Gabriel Watson

Ian finally meets the man he's been searching for, but the meeting didn't go the way he had expected.

Rachel lay still on the floor. After everything I'd seen her do in the short time I'd been with her, I didn't expect her to laugh. But then again, how could I expect anything with Rachel? She was one of the very few people whose actions I couldn't predict.

The bullet had struck her back and she lay on the floor, laughing. "I'm such an idiot!" she chuckled, tears welling up in her eyes and the puddle of blood beneath her growing rapidly. "I should have cared for myself. But no! I had to make sure Toby got his perfect life and everyone who hurt him got what they deserved. And to think, after all I did to give him a wonderful life, I was just going to end it. Well I am an idiot!" She looked past me, speaking to the person who'd shot her. "I never thought you...would kill me...before I could kill you!" She laughed again, her face contorted with pain, and said, "Good...game..." She gave one more laugh, then let out her last sigh.

I gawked at her dead body, unable to move. Her eyes were still open wide and her face was twisted into a disturbing smile. Suddenly, her soul came back from hell and tried to cling onto her body, but her body rejected it with a twitch of every muscle and a last, cold laugh.

I tore my eyes away from the body and up to the couch. Ruthie was out cold, but Toby was still sobbing and muttering "Ellie Nor... Ellie Nor..." as if he hadn't even noticed what was going on right in front of him.

I could not bring myself to turn around. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even cry. I heard heavy steps behind me and hoped the shooter wouldn't kill me too. I had thought I wanted to die, to save the world from another Rachel. But I wasn't that heroic. I was selfish. When it came down to it, I didn't care about the world. I just cared about me.

I felt the barrel of a gun on the back of my head. Not that I knew what the barrel of a gun felt like, I just knew what it was. "Don't move," a voice said from behind me. I imagined a masked serial killer. "Are you with that woman?"

"..." Speak, goddamn it! Speak if you want to live! It's not that f*****g hard, just spit it out! "No! I'm not with her! I just met her today!"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Ian Smith!"

"Ian Smith? Didn't you buy a house from me?"

I almost turned around to look at the man who was threatening my life, but I had to remind myself not to move. "Gabe?" I choked. The tears finally came. You're late! I told them.

"Yes. I'm Gabe."

"I've been looking for you for a long time! I wasn't trying to hurt you or...whatever Rachel was trying to do. I just wanted to ask you some things."

"How about this? While I'm holding the gun, I'll ask the questions. You can ask me when I'm done."

"Sounds like a plan!" It came out barely above a whisper. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me or not, but he knew what my answer was either way.

"Who's that on the couch? Is she dead?"

"No, she's just fainted. That's Ruthie. Tommy Hancock's wife. Or...widow."

"Tommy's dead?"

"He died this morning, sir."

He paused to take in what I'd said. "And the man? The one who's...sobbing? What's he saying?"

"He's saying... 'Eleanor'."

"Why? Who is he?"

"Toby Emerson." Gabe was silent. After a long couple of seconds, I heard the loud bang of the gun being fired. I fell to my knees, waiting for the pain to hit me. It didn't. I turned slowly around to see Gabe in person for the first time, dead on the floor with the barrel in his mouth.