Southend

16.

by MistThing, published on January 13, 2001

- "Don't move too much, Gabriel...Lie down... I got you..."

Gabriel stirred and opened his eyes, but still couldn't see anything. The blackness gradually faded into a lighter shade. His mind cleared slowly, the mists drifting away, the noise in his head growing fainter. The unfortunate side effect of lucidness was an intensifying cold piercing through his wet clothes down to his bones. He also felt the warmth of a familiar touch, and a slight, sweet, familiar scent - - -

- "Grace..." - he said.

Grace lowered her head worriedly over Gabriel's face, listening to his breathing. For the lack of any furniture, she was sitting on the icy stone floor, Gabriel's head in her lap.

- "How are you feeling, Gabriel?" - she whispered softly.

- "Ya're supposed to be dead, Gracie..." - he mumbled - "Are you dead? Am I dead?"

Grace chuckled, relieved. "Sorry to disappoint you, Gabriel...we are not dead...yet, anyway."

- "I'm so damn stupid, Gracie..."

- "Yes, you are a jerk sometimes."

- "Help me up - " He moved with difficulty, straining to sit, and Grace supported his weight, helping him sit upright with his back against the wall. "Damn..." - He pressed his hands against his forehead - "Dizzy..."

- "So where is the cavalry, Gabriel?" - asked Grace.

- "You're lookin' at it...damn..."

- "Tried to do everything by yourself again?" - She embraced his arm affectionately - "Almost got yourself killed... again?"

- "Stupid... stupid!..." - he banged his head backwards against the wall - "Ouch...that hurt..."

Grace couldn't stand seeing him like this. "Gabriel... don't be so hard on yourself. You found me, didn't you?"

Gabriel shoved his hand into his jacket and jeans pockets - his tape recorder and Gracie's notebook were gone...lost to Morgan or the sea. With a sudden sting of fear he fumbled his chest, under his shirt - the talisman was still with him. He gazed around their dark prison room; it looked like a badly maintained dungeon of an old castle, with damp stone walls and large, crude stone tiles as its floor. It was freezing cold, too... Gabriel noticed Grace's slight shivering, and he put his arm around her. "I f*cked up, Gracie...big time..."

About everything... about everything, Gracie...

Grace somehow understood the words he didn't say... "It doesn't matter now, Gabriel... Before I got on the flight to Scotland I decided to put Rennes-le-Château behind me...and so should you." She leaned her head against his chest, and held tight his embracing hand. He hugged her lovingly, gently... She wasn't his lover, but she was his dearest friend, his life-partner. "We'll come out with some plan, Gracie... One of us always does."

- "Oh, Gabriel..." - her voice was stifled.

- "Don't go crying on me now, Gracie...If there's one thing I can't handle..."

- "Crying? On you? Don't get your hopes up, Einstein."

Gabriel smiled at her. "Now that's the Gracie I know..." He looked around him again. "Someone has a peculiar decor flavor...a little too gothic for my taste. Tell me, Gracie, do you have any idea where we are? And how the hell did you end up in here?"

Grace lifted her head a bit. "It was... Tuesday, I think... I don't really know how long ago, I lost sense of time here... I left Southend for the Campbeltown airport in my car - don't give me that look! For some reason, I didn't feel like hiring a bike!"

- "I wasn't lookin', Gracie..."

- "...Anyway, I was gonna board a local flight over the West Isles. Never made it to the airport, though... I was forced off the road by a large pick-up truck while I was manoeuvring to avoid bashing into some biker. As it turned out to be, the biker was in on it, too - " she spoke angrily "In fact, the biker was kinda in charge of the operation. Damn red head... should've run her over when I had the chance..."

- "I see you met Morgan, too..." - said Gabriel - "she kinda brings on those feelings in people."

- "You...met her? I bet she's the one who found you , Gabriel."

- "She wrecked her bike on purpose so I'd take her with me."

- "What did you two...do together?"

- "You want all the specific details?" - he laughed - "We drove all over the Kintyre peninsula and the island of Islay, going through all the Megalithic stone circles and alignments. She was - uh - dowsing, with a pendulum and chart, mapping the ley lines and getting' quite pissed at them, really... sayin' the math isn't right..."

Grace sat up, her eyes lighting with excitement. "Megalithic stones? Ley lines? That's where I was going when I was trying to analyze those weird, unexplained accidents over the Mull of Kintyre!"

- "Speaking of which, Gracie, you could say Morgan actually saved your butt...that plane of yours crashed... Weird - you wrote the flight was leavin' at five p.m., and one detective Saunders informed me it crashed at eleven p.m. ..."

- "Crashed?" - Grace looked pale - "Uh...God...the time-gap, you asked...well, I wrote you about the 'devil's graveyards' - time-space distortions are known to happen at these locations."

Gabriel stirred uncomfortably, adjusting his posture again. "Look, Grace...Lets spill it all out quickly before our nice hosts drop by for a visit... I'll go first, tell ya some Scottish clan history stuff..."

Last update: October 24, 2007

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Southend

16.