Gabriel’s death would not go unavenged, he vowed to the empty air around him.
With the backs of his hands, Sam wiped the tears from his face and rose slowly to his feet. Knowing the police might still be outside, he knew he had to maintain his appearance, particularly in the light of Sheriff Wilson’s obvious suspicions. He went to his locker and spun the combination, intending on removing the extra coat he kept there to support the story he’d told the sheriff and Deputy Collins. When the lock clicked he yanked open the thin metal door and froze, staring at what lay inside.
A thick package wrapped in brown paper rested on the top shelf inside the locker. Sam’s name was scrawled across the front in Gabriel’s script.
The package hadn’t been there the day before yesterday.
It was just a simple package, no bigger than a couple of paperback books.
Yet something about it sent chills racing up and down Sam’s spine.
He had the distinct impression that it had been waiting there for him; waiting there in the darkness of his locker, quietly, patiently, like a spider hanging suspended in its web.
He stared at it for several long moments, his heart beating painfully in his chest.
Very slowly he reached in and picked it up. He held it gingerly, half-expecting it to scuttle swiftly out of his hands.
It did not.
It merely sat there, its very presence seeming to mock him, daring him to open it.
A voice in the back of his mind told him to toss it back into his locker. Better yet, straight into the nearest trash can.It’s probably nothing important anyway, the voice said.Get rid of it. Forget you ever set eyes on the damn thing. Let it sit there and rot until there’s nothing left but a thin film of fuzzy mold growing in its place.
Ignoring the voice, Sam took a deep breath, ripped the package open, and peered inside.
The black face of a videotape stared back at him.
26
REVELATIONS
Jake awoke.
He lay flat on his back in bed, his eyes straining to see in the darkness. His muscles tensed, and he was surprised when, a second or two after awakening, he realized he was holding his breath.
For several long moments, there was silence.
Just when he’d convinced himself that he was imagining things, the loud pounding that had awoken him resumed.
The front door, Jake realized distantly.
He glanced at the glowing hands of his watch.
Who the hell was banging on his door at midnight?
Finding his jeans where he’d dropped them beside the bed, Jake swung his legs out from under the sheets and pulled the jeans up over them.
The knocking continued.
“Hold your damn horses. I said I was coming!” he called in the direction of the front door.
The pounding had awoken Loki, and the dog added his barking to the din.
“Quiet, boy!” Jake said as he rounded the corner and snapped on the foyer light. Loki stood in front of the door, barking furiously, but when he saw Jake, he backed off and settled down.
The sudden quiet left in the wake of Loki’s silence was interrupted a second later as the pounding resumed for a third time.
Jake lost his patience. He turned the lock, disengaged the bolt, and threw the door open violently.
“Look you stupid son of a…”
He got no further.
The flood of words leaving his mouth trickled to a stop the moment Jake realized who it was standing on his front steps.
It was Sam, and his friend was a mess.
The knees of his jeans were stained with mud and grass. His shirt was buttoned improperly and on its front was a long streak of drying vomit.
Sam looked up and Jake knew something terrible had happened.
At last he found his voice. “Sam! What the hell happened?”
Travers smiled sadly. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.
His chin dropped, his shoulders slumped, and without uttering a sound he collapsed directly into Jake’s arms, unconscious. The beer can he’d been holding behind his back clattered to the floor.
“Aw shit, Sam,” Caruso muttered as he manhandled his friend into the apartment and out into the living room.
As they passed through the foyer something slipped out of Sam’s half-tucked shirt and fell to the floor. Loki scooted in and retrieved it as Jake dumped Sam unceremoniously onto the couch.
Jake struggled with his friend’s limp body for a few moments until he’d managed to get the soiled clothes off him. He tossed them into the wash and got a spare blanket out of the hall closet to cover him up. He retrieved the beer can from the floor, then went outside and looked in the window of Sam’s car. The other five cans of the six-pack were on the front seat, still in their plastic binding. Satisfied that Sam wasn’t going to die of alcohol poisoning in the middle of the night, Jake went back inside.
Loki was lying on the floor, gnawing on his newfound toy, whatever it was. His own hangover forgotten in the excitement, Jake reached in and pried whatever it was from between the dog’s jaws, ignoring the low growls that he got in return.
“Shut up, boy,” he replied distractedly as he turned the object over in his hands.
It was a videotape. There was no jacket and no writing on the label; nothing to identify what it might contain.
Jake’s curiosity meter rose a notch.
He walked into the kitchen, the dog trailing eagerly at his heels. “See what you did, Loki?” Jake said as he held the tape in front of the dog’s nose and indicated the saliva hanging from it. “You got slime all over the tape. How am I supposed to watch it now, huh?”
The Akita whined as if in apology.
“Yeah, I know. You just couldn’t help it, right?” The banter with his pet helped take his mind off Sam’s condition and he relaxed a little as he cleaned the outside of the videotape.
Jake returned to the living room, slipped the tape into his VCR, and switched on the television. Settling comfortably onto the floor with his head against the cushion of the couch behind him, he sat back to watch the show.
The face of an old man filled the screen as the tape began to roll, and without having to be told, Jake knew this was Sam’s friend from the nursing home, Gabriel. The man smiled and began speaking.
“Well, Sammy. If you’re watching this we both know it’s too late to do anything for me.” He smiled grimly. “Don’t worry, my friend. I’ve waited a long time for this day. Longer than you could ever know. My time is up, but I’m afraid that yours has just begun.”
Jake leaned closer to the television, his interest aroused. The old man was talking as if he’d passed away.Could that be why Sam was so upset? Because Gabriel had died?
He glanced over his shoulder. Sam looked half-dead himself. His head was thrown back at a strange angle, his mouth agape. If it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest, the illusion would’ve been perfect.
Shaking his head in sympathy, Jake turned back to the screen as the old man resumed his speech.
“I know you didn’t ask for this, and I know if you had your choice that you wouldn’t want it either. But there is no choice here. You must do as I ask. You must! You’re the only one who might possibly understand, the only one who won’t dismiss the entire story as pure nonsense.”
Say what?
“You’ve got to believe what I’m about to tell you. I know it’ll be hard. It’ll seem strange, even unbelievable at first. But it is true. On that, you’ve just got to trust me.”
The old man paused. He was staring straight at the camera, and from Jake’s viewpoint it seemed as if Gabriel was staring straight out of the screen, directly at him. Though it was completely irrational, Jake had the odd feeling that even now Gabriel could in some way actually see him.
It gave him the creeps.
But what Gabriel said next was even more frightening.