Locked (The Heaven's Gate Trilogy) (11 page)

“Hey, guys, let’s get
these girls something to drink. What d’ya say?”

They began jostling each
other around, trying to get into some big coolers, when I realized that almost
everyone here was a boy.  Someone pressed a plastic tumbler into my hands.  I
took a cautious sip and nearly choked on the bitter taste of liquor.  I spat it
out behind my back, being careful that nobody could see.  For a split second, I
thought I heard a familiar harsh laughter – Lucas.  I whirled around to
confront him, but there was no one there.

Tabitha was holding her
tumbler, laughing and flirting with Tony.  As soon as I could interrupt, I
pulled her away.

“Tabitha, where are all
the other girls?” I whispered, a note of anxiety creeping into my voice.

“I’m sure they are around
here somewhere,” she said, her voice trailing off as she looked around and came
to the same realization.

“Tabitha,” I said urgently,
trying to pull her away from the fire, “how well do you know these people?”

“I know Tony well
enough!” she snapped, pulling her arm away from me.  “It’s fine.  Everything is
fine.”

“But they gave us
alcohol…”

“So don’t drink it!” she
spat through her clenched jaw.  She sighed, exasperated.  Over her shoulder she
saw Tony watching us intently.  She dragged me a little ways further, lowering
her voice to a whisper. “Listen, if you don’t want to stay here, go hike up the
rest of the way,” she said, her head inclining back to the trail.  “I’ll be
here when you realize how silly you’re being.”

I didn’t like the idea of
leaving her alone here, and told her so.

She gave my hand a firm
squeeze.  “Tony’s dad and my dad go way back.  He won’t let anything happen to
me.  And it will take you twenty, thirty minutes tops to hike up and back.  You
can go up and see the famous view of Atlanta.  I’ll be here when you get back
and I promise, we can go then.”

I looked at her
doubtfully, prompting her to cross her hands over her heart in an exaggerated
X.

“Scout’s honor,” she
declared, leaving her hands to rest on her hips.

I looked down at the tops
of my sneakers.  “You think I’m being ridiculous, don’t you?”

“I think it’s sweet that
you are so careful – not just with yourself, but with me, too,” she said
firmly.  I lifted my eyes to hers, and saw that she was telling me the truth.
“You are a bit sheltered, Hope; not everything or everyone is what they look
like on the outside.  God knows I’m living proof of that.  But trust me, I
don’t mind having a friend who is willing to speak up to look out for me.”  Her
eyes were fierce with pride and I felt a surge of pleasure as I realized she
already considered me a friend. “It may be misplaced this time, but it’s
something I value.  Now, go.  I’ll see you in half an hour.”

I shuffled over to the
last leg of the trail, grasping the metal railing. 
Was I being too
cautious? 
I asked myself. 
It doesn’t matter
, I realized. 
Whether
you are right or not, she doesn’t want you to spoil her fun.
  Out of
respect for my new friend, then, I’d have to give her some space.  I reached
for the flashlight and then my heart sank – my pocket was empty; Tabitha had
been the last one to carry it.   I looked back to where she stood, hoping to
catch her eye, but she was engrossed, flirting and laughing with Tony.

Oh, well,
I thought. 
Off I go.

The climb was a lot
steeper than the earlier parts of the trail, but even so, it took me only about
fifteen minutes to make it to the top.  As I crested the mountain, the bitter
wind whipped around me and I hugged my sides, willing my fleece to keep me
warm.

Careful now
, my inner voice cautioned me as I
stepped forward onto the bare rock.

The top of the mountain
was dark, but it didn’t matter.  The entire crazy quilt of lights that
comprised the Atlanta skyline at night spread out before me, twinkling and
sparkling as if against a backdrop of black velvet, giving the entire surface
of the mountain a shimmery glow.

“It’s beautiful,” I
murmured to no one, entranced by the dancing lights.

I was all alone, the
massive expanse of stone laid out before me.  I felt insignificant compared to
the mountain and the sky, overcome by a rush of wonder.  Giggling, I stuffed my
hands in my pockets and began to skip across the surface, sliding effortlessly
around the pits and cracks that pocked its surface, spinning and twirling past
the cable car station and concession stand.  All my earlier concerns melted
away.  I walked over to the edge, the caution area marked off by a low-slung cable,
and let a gulp of brisk air chill my lungs.

In the distance, a crack
of lightning lit up the sky, a distant rumbling of thunder following on its
heels.  Then another, and another.  All around me, the lightning seemed to
dance, snaking vines and sheets of fire, alternating as they circled the city. 
I had never seen so many storms and if I closed my eyes, I could almost feel
the electricity throbbing through the sky, leaving the smell of sulfur in its
wake.  Soon, a soft rain enveloped me.

I was alone with nature’s
majesty, the party and my argument with Tabitha forgotten.  Up on that mountain
with only the weather as my companion, I had nothing to fear, nothing to hide. 
I let the wind rush about me, my hair swirling about me, for once not worrying
who could see. 

Then, a solitary hawk
swooped into my view, following the wind as it twirled and glided through the
night sky.  For a moment, it almost seemed as if our eyes met.

“Beautiful,” I whispered
again, watching it trace an arc against the flashing skies.  In the back of my
mind, I wondered,
don’t hawks hunt during the day?
But the thought
quickly passed as I became entranced with its flight.

The hawk swooped lower
and lower, and then rose up to make a lazy circle high above me.  I turned
around to watch its progress, admiring the ease with which it cut through the
winds.  Closer and closer it came, now in a straight line.  And then, as I
heard its eerie screech, I realized it was flying right at me, diving toward my
head.

Shocked, I started
backing away, stumbling over the forgotten cable and landing with a thump.  The
bird kept coming, sending me scrambling backwards on my hands and heels over
the hard rock and scrabble to avoid the attack.

It swerved right in front
of me, disappearing from my vision. But I could hear its angry shrieking as it
circled back for another try.

“Get away!” I cried out,
looking blindly into the night to find it. Too late, I heard it screaming from
above.  Instinctively, I jumped to my feet and tried to bat it away from my
head, but I lost my footing on the slippery rock.

I was rolling down the
cliff face, bouncing off of rocks.  I tried to slow my fall, grabbing wildly
about me for anything, anything at all, but I was falling too fast and my hands
came up empty.  I hit something sharp and then, suddenly, I was free falling,
no longer touching the rock, the white mass of the mountain shrinking away from
me as I fell into the night sky. 

I always thought it was a
cliché when people said that your life flashes before your eyes in the moments
before your death, but there mine was, playing out like a movie in reverse
right before me.  I saw my night with Tabitha and the Franklins; the anonymity
of my new school; the thrill of my first time running outdoors.  The years of
loneliness and repeated embarrassments at the hands of my father in Alabama. My
Mom and Dad, fighting about what they should do with me. And looming in front
of me, a stranger in a motel room.  Not the one who’d kidnapped me, but the one
who’d saved me.  He faced away, his broad shoulders squared, every muscle
tensed, a stark presence that flamed bright against the dingy walls of the room
that my memory had almost erased. 

When he turned to face
me, I gasped in recognition.

“Michael!”

Suddenly, the force of
what felt like a brick wall knocked the wind out of me.  Stunned, everything in
my body seemed to shut down.  Everything was dark.  I was conscious only of the
fact that the rush of wind had slowed to a rhythmic breeze and a slow warmth
seemed to suffuse my body.

My brain struggled to
make sense of what was happening.
  So this is what it feels like to die
, I thought, waiting for the pain.

But the pain didn’t
come.  Instead, my mind drifted away into nothingness.  I felt a gentle
tickling against my nose and face as I seemed to bob in a current of air, going
up and down in steady rhythm.  I turned away from the chill wind, burrowing my
face deeper into the warmth, and sighed.

Where am I?
My brain suddenly demanded.

It doesn’t matter. 
Just sleep,
a
different voice came back, just as insistently.

I was starting to get
hot.  I turned over in languorous ease, trying to push away from the heat, and
felt strong hands tighten their grip on me.  Startled awake by the sudden
movement, I opened my eyes.

Below me, I could see the
rooftops of Atlanta. 

And they were moving. 

With my feet dangling
over them.

The wind was rushing by
me, whipping my hair around so that I could barely see.  But out of the corner
of my eye, I could see that the great rhythmic beating was coming from a pair
of gigantic, snowy wings.  Confused, I tried to turn around but muscle-bound
arms squeezed me even tighter.

“Quit wiggling or I may
drop you,” a voice warned, and I looked up.

For the second time that
night, I gasped in recognition.  And then, mercifully, everything went dark.

Chapter 4 – Return and Revelation

I was groggy.  I pushed
my face deeper into my pillow, my mind already slipping back to the bliss of
sleep.  Something tickled at my lip, and I reached my fingers up to rub at my
face.

Hmmm.  Feathers
, I thought, plucking them away
absently.

Feathers
!

My eyes flew open and I
bolted up. I was in my own bed. At home. Safe.

It didn’t really
happen.

But then I spun around
and pressed my back against the headboard.

There, sitting in the
corner, was Michael.

He was hunched over,
holding his head in his hands, but even as self-contained as he was, he seemed
to dwarf everything in my room.  I sucked in my breath and he stirred.

“Good.  You’re awake,” he
said, lifting his head to eye me warily.  “I was beginning to get worried.” 

He uncoiled his body,
rising to his feet without effort.  Every muscle rippled and I felt my breath
catch in my throat as I scanned his body, looking for evidence of what I’d seen
the night before.  The only thing unusual I could find was his hair, which had
seemed to somehow grow overnight so that his bangs now fell rakishly into his
face.  The shadow of a beard was emerging on his jaw, and dark shadows under
his eyes bore witness to his sleepless vigil.  He looked like a man – an
incredibly handsome, incredibly tired man.  But I knew what I had seen.

I clutched at the hem of
my comforter, unable to stop staring.

“You…” I began, but I
couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

“Yes?” he said,
carefully, as if testing the waters.  He stood, unmoving in the corner, waiting
for me to continue.

“You saved me,” I stated
quietly.  It was the simplest way to put it.  I dropped my eyes and plucked at
some imaginary lint.

“You shouldn’t have been
up there,” he said softly.

I raised my eyes, defiant. 
“You shouldn’t have – I mean – couldn’t have been, either.  But you were.”

A shadow of worry clouded
his eyes so that the sparkling blue turned to stormy grey.  He moved toward me
and I shrank back against the headboard, my body betraying my fear and
confusion. 

He stopped short, looking
as if I’d slapped him in the face.  Quickly, his face became a mask and he
shrugged.

“Well, it was a good
thing I was, or you would have fallen off the mountain.  As it was you almost
got hypothermia,” he blustered.  “You were barely conscious when I found you.”

A rush of anger swept
through me.  I leaned forward, accusing him.  “I didn’t
almost
fall off
the mountain.  I
did
fall.  And you didn’t
find
me.  You caught
me.
In the air
.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he
scoffed, his voice full of bravado.  But in his eyes, I could see fear -- fear
of being known.  His eyes searched mine, questioning.

“Don’t lie to me,” I
whispered, unable to sustain his gaze.  I picked at the hem of my comforter
nervously.  “I can take almost anything, but not that.”

When I looked up again,
he was rooted in the same place.  He looked torn.  Lost.

“I know,” he said, his
jaw taut.  He balled his giant hands into fists.  As he saw my eyes wander over
them, he willed himself to relax and slowly unfurled his fingers.  “I shouldn’t
even be here now.  But I can’t help myself.”