Page 52 of In Every Lifetime
Fai took a deep breath, and then another. He ran his tongue along his teeth before he finally spoke. “I don’t know who he is, but I don’t think he’s Gabriel. I don’t think Gabriel exists. It’s just a character he used to get closer to us…”
“What?” I asked in shock.
He reached his hand out, and I took it readily. He pulled me down to the ground with him; my legs were grateful for the break, my muscles burning from exertion.
“I went to get us coffee, and the barista told me the cabin is a rental—he doesn’t own it. When I got back, I went through the office. I don’t even know what I found… but he’s not who he claims to be. I don’t know what he wants, but I know it’s bad. I can’t explain why, but I can feel it.” Fai looked at me, real fear in his eyes. “I think he wants you.”
I jerked back, trying to process it all. “What was in the office?”
“Folders—at least a dozen of them. He has one on each of us, all the people we know. Our friends, our family. They’re filled with details, documents, pictures—everything he needs to know about us,” Fai explained.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Why do you think he wants me?”
“Yours was different.” Fai turned to me fully, cupping my face in the palm of his hand. “I don’t even know how to explain it, besides that it’s crazy. It’s like he found every bit of information he could on you and filed it away. He must have figured out what I saw. I don’t know why else he would have fucking shot at us.”
I stood again, despite my aching legs, and began pacing. “Why would he want me? Why invite us out here?”
Fai shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I just knew I needed to get you out of that house… and fast.”
“Oh my God…” I muttered, whipping to face Fai again. “The money in the Bible—or Book of Mormon, whatever that was. You see those in hotels.”
Fai nodded. “Think about all the different genres of books he had. They weren’t his favorites; they were picked to cater to guests.”
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Yeah,” Fai agreed.
Our reality came crashing in. We were in the middle of the woods—woods we didn’t know—with only the clothes on our backs, hiding from a madman with no way out. The tires on the truck were slashed; there was no service, no neighbors. We didn’t even have shoes on.
We were totally and royally fucked.
