Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Fuck. The security guy. I hoped he’d be asleep. I could get away with going for a nighttime walk, but not outside the gates. Fuck fuck fuck.” Gabriel’s breathing sped up, alerting Abaddon.
The guard was a man in his late thirties, bald, with a short beard. Were he focused on the road, their presence might have been noticed already, but he seemed engrossed in the thick book he was reading.
Gabriel tugged on Abaddon’s arm and lowered his voice. “I’m considered a danger to myself and others, if left unsupervised, remember? We now both know I’m not the danger here, but legally, Father John is within his rights to keep me here, and if he thinks I’ve broken the rules, he might take away the privileges I have.”
Abaddon’s heart thudded like a war drum, but he kept his anger in check, because there was no need to lose his temper over a maggot like Father John. The bastard’s time would come soon enough. “Not for long now,” he said, stopping by a thick tree. “Hide behind it. I’ll deal with this.”
Gabriel’s eyes settled on him for what felt like an eternity. “Don’t kill him. He’s a nice person.”
Taken aback, Abaddon stared at him. “I’m not going to kill him. Why would you think that?”
Gabriel covered his face with a soft moan. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure. You seem to find it so easy,” he mumbled, already moving to where he’d been told to wait.
“Because evil people don’t deserve to be alive. I’m not a serial killer,” Abaddon muttered even though, by definition, he absolutely was.
The guard turned the page in his book, oblivious to the predator approaching him in the dark despite the woods whispering in warning. Were this any other place, Abaddon would have to worry about cameras or other equipment designed to keep away intruders, but without them, this break-in would be a piece of cake.
With cold rain soaking his hair, Abaddon sank to his haunches before creeping toward the bright window and the door located right beside it. From up close, he could see both the gate and the edge of the wall high above, but there was no point in considering how to scale it when the simplest solutions were almost always best. With one more look behind him to make sure Gabriel couldn’t be spotted, he backed away toward the wall of the booth. A shard of ice got stuck in his heart when his heel touched something movable, but when he remained still, so did the item.
With a sense of relief, he reached for whatever it was and found a bottle, which must have been left here by the guard. It was his lucky day.
He tossed the glass container at the road and went still when it broke, making enough noise to alarm a man in the dead of night.
Inside the booth, the guard must have risen from the chair, because its legs dragged over the floor with a screech. Moments later, the door unlocked and opened so rapidly it would have hit Abaddon if he’d stood just an inch closer.
“Who’s there? Do you think this is funny? I’ll make sure your parents find out what you’re up to,” the guard hollered, stepping outside with a flashlight already on. Its glow seeped through the trees, casting enough shadows to create a gothic atmosphere. The glass scattered over the asphalt gleamed like crystal when Abaddon stepped forward and grabbed the man from behind, pressing on a spot that would knock him out.
The thick nape of a heavy-set, tattooed man is right in front of his eyes. Then, Abaddon hooks one arm around the guy’s neck while the other grabs a spot on his sweaty throat.
The guard went limp, dropping the flashlight as he sank back into Abaddon’s arms, the same way the tattooed guy had.
Weird. It felt as if he’d done this before. But there was no time for self-analyzing. This method would give them a couple of minutes at best, so he called out Gabriel’s name, already dragging the body back into the booth.
Like a good little lamb, Gabriel ran over without question, but the terrified expression on his face made Abaddon roll his eyes.
“He’s alive, just fainted,” he said. “We’ll arrange things so he thinks he fell asleep.”
Gabriel nodded and grabbed the flashlight on his way to join Abaddon. They placed the man back in the chair with his hand over the gate-opening button, as if he’d just fallen forward and pressed it in the process. The whole thing took them less than a minute, and by the time the poor bastard awoke, they’d be long out of his sight.
“God really did gift you all the skills you might need,” Gabriel said, watching Abaddon in awe.
“They don’t call Him all-knowing for nothing.” Abaddon smiled and squeezed Gabriel’s hand, guided by the glow of the stolen flashlight. They were still quite far from the main building, but when, around twenty minutes into their march, he spotted a massive oak at the crossroads, he knew where the site of his birth was.