Locked (The Heaven's Gate Trilogy) (19 page)

I pressed the off button
and closed my cell phone.

“See!” Tabitha was
already crowing with triumph.  “She wouldn’t allow it.  We’re going to have to
go down there after all.”

“No, that’s not it,” I
said slowly, still absorbing the news as the pit of foreboding in my stomach
began to grow. “We can’t talk to Maria, even if we go in person.  She isn’t
there.  She’s disappeared from the Center.”

Chapter 7 – Lucas’s Discovery

“We can’t do nothing,” I
pleaded again, trying ineffectually to block Michael’s access to his locker. 
“Please, hear me out.”

It had been three days
since we’d learned the news of Maria’s disappearance.  Tabitha had given up
hope, developing a new strategy for completing our paper.  But I was still
focused on finding Maria.

Michael sighed.  Gently,
he picked me up by the shoulders and moved me aside, depositing me gingerly
next to his locker.

Ignoring the flush I
could feel forming on my skin under the thin tissue of my t-shirt – the flush
that always came when he touched me – I pressed on as he slowly opened the door
and started stacking his books on the shelf.

“She told me she was
going to find her sister.  You know that means she is somewhere out on the
street.  Or worse.”

“I know, Hope.  But we
have no way of finding her.”

“We can go look for her!”
Tears welled in my eyes.  I couldn’t stand feeling so helpless.

Michael turned and tilted
my chin in his hand.  I closed my eyes, trying to blink away the tears, but one
lonely drop managed to trickle down my cheek.  He wiped it away, his rough, hot
fingertip leaving its own trail.

“I already have one
errant girl to look after,” he said gruffly, his voice low.  “How could I
possibly take on another?”

His words stung.  The
last thing I wanted to be was a burden to him.  My eyes flew open as I began to
protest, but before I could say anything, we were interrupted.

 “Trouble in paradise?”

We both swung our heads
to find Lucas strolling down the locker bay.  Usually, Michael’s watchful eyes
kept Lucas far away from me, but today he’d taken advantage of our
distraction.  My cheeks were still burning with shame and anger at Michael’s
words.  I pushed him away, wiping my face against my sleeve, hoping Lucas
hadn’t seen me cry.

“Why is it whenever I see
you two, there always seems to be some drama?”  Lucas purred smoothly, moving
closer.  “I have to say, Michael, things always seemed much better for Hope
when you were away.  Wouldn’t you agree, Hope?”

I stared silently at him,
willing him to shut up.

“Has he been bothering
you when I’m not here, Hope?” Michael addressed his question to me, but his
black look was meant only for Lucas.  Anyone else would have withered under its
intensity, but Lucas just laughed it off.

“We just had some fun,
didn’t we Hopie?” I winced to hear my family’s pet name for me on his lips.

“What’s this?” he asked. 
I followed his gaze down to where I still clutched my scrawled notes – everything
I knew about Maria and her disappearance.  Swiftly, he snatched it from my
hands.

“Interesting,” he
drawled, artfully dodging my attempt to grab the paper back as he flipped
through the pages, reading my notes.  “A missing person.  And not just any person
– a lost little girl.” 

He shot Michael a
speculative look.

“Sorry I can’t help you
on this one,” he said coolly, never taking his eyes off of Michael as he handed
me back my precious information.  “I can tell it has upset you.”

Confused by his kindness,
I mumbled a hasty thank you and quickly put the pages back safely in my book
bag.  Unconsciously, I shrunk away from him, my hand drifting in its
nervousness to cover my neck.

He laughed again. 
“Didn’t think I had any emotions in me, eh, Hope?  Even I can muster up some sympathy
on occasion.”  He twirled on his heel.  “Good luck.  I hope you find her,” he
offered over his shoulder as he walked away.

I stared after him,
baffled by our exchange.

“Why does he always just
turn up like that?” I muttered.

Michael’s eyes were full
of suspicion.  “What do you mean, always?”

I cursed myself for the
gaffe.  Michael didn’t need to know the kind of attention Lucas paid to me when
Michael wasn’t around.  He had enough on his mind.

“Nothing,” I said,
hastily, looking for some way to turn the conversation to my advantage.  “At
least he seemed to understand how important this is to me.”  The accusing tone
in my voice was unmistakable.

Michael’s jaw tightened. 
Barely controlling himself, he slammed his fist into his locker.  When he
pulled away, I could see the imprint of his knuckles in the buckled metal.

Knees trembling, I
stepped backwards. Hastily, I pulled my fleece over my head.    “I think I’ll
walk home.”

Before he could respond,
I darted toward the exit.

*****

The March wind had turned
biting.  I pulled the collar of my fleece closer to me and eyed the sun,
hanging low on the horizon, as I turned onto the dirty sidewalk.

It was a mere five miles
home.  I could easily cover that distance before sunset if I ran.  Luckily, I
didn’t have many books to carry home tonight.

My books.

I groaned.  In my haste
to get away from Michael, I’d dropped my backpack in the locker bay.  I looked
at my watch, and again at the sky.  The wind surged about me, whipping my hair
around my head like a whirlwind, as if it were daring me to test my luck.

I thought of my homework,
and my phone, deserted in the school.  Grudgingly, I turned back toward the
school and began walking.

It seemed to take twice
as long to cover the distance back to the school.  The wind continued to fight
me, seemingly coming from every direction, my hair becoming a nuisance as it
flew into my face. 

Of course, I’d have left
my hat in the bag.  Grimacing, I rummaged in my jacket pockets for anything to
keep my hair out of my way but came up empty handed.  The wind shrieked and I
dug my hands deeper into the pockets, trying to hurry myself along.

As the school came in
view, a lone grey car with tinted windows slinked up to the stop sign in front
of me and waited.  It didn’t signal. Nor did it pull away, even though there
were no cars to stop its progress.  As I came closer, the passenger window
rolled down.

“I bet you came back for
this,” a smooth voice called out from inside the car.

Cautiously, I bent over
and peered inside.  There on the passenger seat sat my backpack.  In the
driver’s seat was Lucas.

“Let me give you a ride
home,” he said, straining to be heard over the rumble of his engine and the
roar of the wind.  “You don’t want to be walking home in this weather.”

As if on cue, a crack of
lightening shook the sky.

I looked over my shoulder
at the massive gray clouds closing in the sky.  Resigned, I reached for the
door handle and eased myself into the car, asking, “How did you get my bag?”

Lucas slid my backpack
down to the floor, at my feet.  He smiled, showing a row of perfectly straight,
white teeth, which somehow seemed predatory.

“Would you believe me if
you said I saw it when I went back to apologize to Michael?”

My eyes narrowed.  “You
did no such thing.”

Lucas laughed and
shrugged.  “So, there’s no love lost between me and Michael.  That doesn’t mean
you and I can’t be friends.”  He pushed a button and the window next to me
quietly closed back up.

Then, his eyes never
leaving mine, he reached across my chest and pulled the seatbelt forward,
clicking it firmly into place.  His hand trailed up the belt to where it had
trapped my wayward hair.  He fingered it appreciatively.

I froze.

“I have to make sure
you’re safe, and comfortable, if I’m to see you home,” he said softly,
loosening my hair from under the belt.  He let the hair cascade through his
fingers, brushing my collar away to expose my neck. 

My heart was thudding so
loud, I was certain he could hear it.

“When the wind caught
your hair out there, it was like a corona, you know.  The sun caught it for
just a moment and it shone.  Beautiful.”

With a steady, practiced
hand, he deftly tucked my hair behind my ear and slid his hand down the back of
my neck.

Instinctively, I pulled
away, but not before I saw and heard the sharp intake of his breath.  His hand
stopped right over my Mark, tightening his hold.

“What’s this?” he asked
sharply.       

When I didn’t answer, he
firmly gripped the base of my skull and gently pushed my face away, exposing
the back of my head.  With his other hand, he pushed down the collar of my
fleece, giving him a full view of my neck.

Instinct took over and I
lunged back, pushing him away and swinging for his face.  “Get your hands off
of me, Lucas.”

He leaned back in his
seat, arms and palms up in a declaration of innocence, a bemused expression on
his face as he easily deflected my useless blows.  But there was a dark glint
in his eye and his voice was rough when he next spoke.

“I can see what Michael
sees in you now, Hope.”  He laughed, a cold, hard sound that made me shudder. 

I scrabbled at the
seatbelt, then the door handle, desperate to get out.  I fumbled out, grabbing
for my backpack at the last minute.  But he made no move to stop me, leaving me
to run into the falling darkness as the first rain began to fall.

Chapter 8 – Heaven’s Gate

My cell phone rang,
jarring me awake from a fitful sleep.

I looked at the clock
glowing beside my bed.  Two a.m.  I groaned.  It was probably a prank call or a
wrong number, but with my mother overseas, it just might be her.

I swatted around my
nightstand, trying to find the phone amid the tangle of teenage detritus.  I
knocked over the clock and a vase of flowers my mother’s cleaning lady had
placed in a vain effort to “prettify” my room.

There, under a book, I
spied the phone, quivering with energy as it rang and rang.

I scrambled to answer
it.  “Hello?” I croaked into the phone. But all I heard was silence.  It had
rolled to voicemail.

Annoyed, I looked for the
number, but it showed the number was not available.  At least I knew it was not
my Mom.

The phone jumped to life
in my hand.  Quickly, I pressed the tiny green button.  “Hello?” I demanded
again, this time more awake as I sat up, pushing the hair out of my eyes.

“Hope?”  The voice on the
other end sounded tinny and far away.  “Hope, is that you?”

“Who is this?” I stifled
a yawn.

There was a long pause. 
“It’s me.  Maria.”

I jolted awake with a
rush of adrenaline, words and relief pouring out of me.  “Maria? Are you okay?
I’ve been so worried.  Where are you?”

“I went for my sister,
like I told you.”

“Did you find her?”

“I did, but I need your
help.”

“What kind of help?”

There was another pause. 
“She has a broken leg and broken ribs.  She cannot walk.  I need you to come
and get us.”

My heart seemed lodged in
my throat.  “Where?”

“I’m not sure,” she
whispered.  “I was by a big…how do you call it?
Camposanto
? You know,
with the dead people?”

“A cemetery?”

“
Si
, a cemetery. 
Very old.  And we are hiding in a big neighborhood, lots of old houses.  But
the building we are in, it is not a house. It is like a factory.  It is
broken.  Everything in it, dirty and broken. Other broken houses, too.”

I wracked my brain, but
being new to Atlanta myself, nothing rang a bell.

“Is there anything else
nearby? Any landmark?”

The silence on the other
end grew as she thought.  In the background, I began to hear the distinct
rumbling of a train.

“Maria, is that the
MARTA?”

“I don’t know what is
MARTA,” she answered.

“The noise – that machine
that I am hearing – is there a train nearby?”

“
Si,”
she said,
lapsing into Spanish in her excitement. 
“
Multitudo de trens a cada hora
.”

I heard a scuffle behind
her.  “I have to go, Hope,” she whispered, a note of panic creeping into her
voice.  “You will come tonight?”

“I…yes.  I will find you
tonight.  Watch for me.  I will have my phone on.”

“You will find us, Hope,
I know it.”  Her whispered confidence heartened me.

I threw down the phone
and went to my computer.  A quick search turned up Oakland Cemetery.  I scanned
the link – it was one of the largest cemeteries in Atlanta and extremely old,
dating from before the Civil War.  But the neighborhood next to it – Oakland –
was far too small to be the place Maria had mentioned.  Buried deeper in the
text was a mention of a tornado that had ripped through Atlanta and damaged the
cemetery.  I clicked on that link.