A Beautiful Fate (33 page)

August stared at me for a long while in disbelief.

“It’s either that, or Nora will find our dead bodies on Monday.”

“Sick,” he said with a scrunched-up nose.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” I agreed. “So you’re in?”

August agreed, and at ten, I arrived at the café, in full costume, and took my place at a table near No. 4. His jacket was hanging from his chair and I could spy the vial of clear poison in the inner breast pocket. A few short minutes later, he stood up and walked to the restroom. As soon as I heard the door click shut, I got to work, grabbing the vial out of his pocket, and dumping the liquid into his coffee. I worked fast, careful not to be noticed by any of the patrons, most of whom were sipping hot coffee and checking the morning
Times
. I took my vial, shoved it into his pocket, slid the empty one into my own coat pocket and headed out to the street to make my fake phone call. My heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty. If we messed up this plan, August and I were both goners.

When No. 4 returned to his table, August walked in and placed our regular order of drinks. He eased onto a stool to wait. No. 4 came up to the counter and asked for a morning paper, palming the fake bottle to the cashier at the same time and then went back to his seat. The cashier handed August our drinks and told him that this time the drinks were on the house. A very kind sort of fellow...giving us coffee that he had just doctored up.

August did as I had told him to and went straight back to the flat while I waited for No. 4 to take a drink of his coffee.

Seconds passed. I watched him read the paper.

Minutes passed.

Drink.

Drink.

Drink, damn it, drink.

My heart pounded, my breathing hitched in my chest as No. 4 put the cup up to his lips. A few tense moments passed and then suddenly he grabbed his chest in shock and pain. His eyes slid closed and he slumped lifeless, out of his chair and onto the floor. Screams and panic broke out in the café. Questions about the Heimlich maneuver and about who would call the paramedics flew in the air and one customer tried to start CPR. I took the chaos as my cue to walk away.

The next day, August and I went back to Camden Bar & Kitchen and I walked up to the cashier. His nametag told me his name was Keith.

“Hi Keith, you remember me? I am supposed to be dead, right? Well as you can see I’m not, no thanks to you.” I lowered my voice to a near whisper and gave him an evil smile. “I’m watching you, and someday, when you least expect it, I will give you what you deserve.”

Keith said not a word nor did he blink an eye as August and I walked away. I didn’t really plan to seek any revenge on him, though. I do think that sometimes silence-induced paranoia is enough torture on its own.

August and I made our way down the street towards Jake’s. August had a grumpy look on his face.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” he pouted. “It’s just, this stinks. Now we’re going to have to find a new place to get coffee.”

I laughed, “I know. Bummer, right?”

After a fourth tally mark was tattooed on my left wrist, I stayed home again, wrapped in Ari’s sweatshirt, sick and shaky. The news shows reported No. 4’s death and, detailed another horrible rap sheet. But even though these men had been monsters, the knowledge that I had taken lives that weren’t already on the edge of ending unnerved me. I tried to justify my actions by reminding myself over and over again that, if I had not acted, I would certainly be dead myself. But still I obsessed over what I had done to the point of sickness.

Killing the Kakos was much different from cutting the threads in my dream. For the most part, my dream involved people who were dying and just needed help making it to the other side. For them, death was a part of life, something neither I nor they could avoid. Killing the Kakos was a cold-blooded act, born of a conscious mind and it took a toll on me, even though I knew it had to be either them or me. August suggested I take my matter up in a church.

“I’ll go with you, Ava, if you want.”

“Fine.” Couldn’t hurt, I guessed. We went to a small church on a quiet corner and I made a silent confession and begged for forgiveness. When we left, I was shaking and could not stop the tears from flowing. August had to help me back to the flat.

“Ok, maybe church was too much. Perhaps you should just go get drunk. I would be more than willing to do that with you.”

“I don’t drink, August.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but I am a complete control freak. I cannot lose control, ever. Drinking is a horrible idea.”

“Well, I still think you should try it,” he responded.

Margaux called me to check in shortly after the news reported the death of No. 4. The last time we had spoken was by text, just after No. 3 was found. I let her know that I was fine and on track to graduate. Neither of us actually spoke about No. 4’s death, but we both knew that was why she was calling.

With time, I recovered from the emotions the death of No. 4 had brought on and I felt good enough to go to the Virgin Marathon, the rather prestigious marathon Nora had been training for. August and I met Adler at the race so the three of us could cheer Nora on together. The area around the starting line was filled with friends and families of the runners and several news stations were represented.

Nora had asked me to find sponsors and run with her, but I knew my body wouldn’t be able to handle the race. Besides, the thought of running a marathon without my mother with me made me sad. So we cheered for Nora all day long at various spots throughout the race, and when we met her at the finish line, she ran straight into Adler’s arms.

Adler promptly went down on one knee and pulled from his pocket a little black box that he opened to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. Looking very serious and a little overwhelmed, he asked Nora to marry him. With tears in her eyes, she happily agreed and we all cried and hugged. She even hugged complete strangers - she was so excited.

The four of us met a while later for a celebration drink and were delighted, as we sat at our table, to see that a local news station covering the marathon had caught the proposal on tape. Since the Virgin London Marathon was a pretty big deal, the proposal was played on the news all throughout the evening.

August kept me busy the whole month of May with schoolwork. I worked on lessons and reading assignments from the time I woke up until late into the evening. My schedule seemed to have finally readjusted itself so that I was again sleeping at night, rather than not at all. I missed Ari. A lot. And I had another near breakdown one night when August gave in to temptation and agreed to a date with Claude. I sent Ari a tiny “x” text and he quickly shot me back a tiny “o.” I wanted desperately to call him and tell him I loved him. I yearned for his voice, his smile, and his touch, but I knew one phone call would break me and I would be on the next flight to L.A.

I got out of bed, took my phone, and hid it from myself in the other room. As I was walking back to my room, I heard the front door open and close. It was August and he was in tears. He threw himself on the couch and I sat on the floor next to him. He told me how things had gone with Claude and how he just knew there would be no revival of their former relationship. He was hurting and so was I. We both sat and cried until the sun came through my oval window, reminding us that real life was waiting and there were more pressing issues on the table than heartache.

My finals started the beginning of June and they were tedious and ridiculously difficult. I cussed August out for three days straight. The tests and essays were next to impossible. August spent an entire day grading my exams, but when he finished he reported that I had received all A’s for the semester. He would turn my report into Wheatin Prep where I would officially be receiving my diploma.

“Ava,” he said with a huge grin, “you graduated at the top of your class. Do you have any idea how many people are going to be pissed when they find out that some shut-in they’ve never seen before has beat them to Valedictorian?”

“I am not a shut-in August, and I don’t care what they think about it. And just for the record, I will not be attending any ceremonies.”

“Ugh. Whatever, Ava. Are you never just happy?”

I gave him a mean stare, refusing to answer his stupid question, but allowed myself to be talked into going to Riverside Café for a small celebration and a surprise graduation gift, a gift certificate for one free tattoo at Jake’s.

“Aw shucks, August, you shouldn’t have!” I said with a laugh, already thinking about what fantastic art I might find for my right arm.

It was a very strange feeling knowing that I had graduated from high school and the only thing on my horizon was the fact that I had to kill two more Kakos brothers before one of them killed me. I sent a text to Margaux letting her know that I had graduated, but she didn’t bother to respond.

After my mini-celebration, I fell asleep on my bare, scratchy mattress and that night No. 5 came to me in my dreams. This time the plan was to play with fire.

I had less than twenty hours to decide how to respond to the idea of fire and get my counter plan in order. The attack I had seen in my dream would be awful and I’ll admit I was terrified. I woke August in the morning and told him to pack only the necessities. Taking in the somber tone of my voice, he immediately did as I said. I packed most of my stuff too, tucking Ari’s sweatshirt into a top corner of my bag. Then I gave my things to August and sent him off to Jake’s place with all he could carry of what we both owned. I told him to wait there for me, but I was purposefully vague on the details.

I closed the door to my room, unlatched the oval pane of glass over my little window seat and doused the apartment floor with kerosene. Then I left the flat, pulled the door shut and pushed myself as far as I could into the recessed doorway of the next vacant flat down the hall. I settled down to wait.

The waiting went on well into the late evening hours. My shoulders ached and my knees cramped from time to time with the effort of staying in the doorway’s shadows, but finally I heard the creak of the elevator cables as the car started its journey up from the foyer downstairs. I tensed and watched as No. 5 hesitated in the open car before he headed for my door. In his hand was a can of gasoline.

The moment he disappeared into the front room of my flat, I moved soundlessly forward and used my key to engage the dead bolt, locking him in. I ran lightly down the back steps and left the building. I climbed the three stories of the building’s outside fire escape and peeked carefully into my flat through the oval window I had unlatched. I could see No. 5 standing outside the closed door to my room. Ever so carefully, I pushed the window forward, pulled myself into the room, and perched on my window seat. I watched as he wedged a chair under the doorknob of my room to trap what he thought was me in the bedroom.

I cleared my throat to get his attention. He turned, saw me and let out a gasp. He made an involuntary forward movement, causing gasoline to splash out of his can and run down his knees and ankles – not a lot of gasoline, but enough to get the job done. I lit a matchbook, flicked it at him, and watched as his pant legs caught on fire. He dropped to the kerosene soaked floor in a panic and started to roll around in an attempt to extinguish the flames. The rest of the flat caught quickly. The fire was hot; it ripped through the furniture and peeled the paint off the walls. I watched as the skin on No. 5’s face began to bubble and shrivel, then quickly left back though my window to the fire escape and made my descent to the alleyway below. Not even ten minutes passed before the entire building, engulfed in flames, collapsed.

I walked with my back to my burning building as people hollered on the streets to one another and stared on at the spectacle behind me. I could hear in the distance the wail of fire engines. Without looking back, I made my way to Jake’s and used my gift from August to have a fifth tally mark tattooed on my left wrist. It stretched diagonally across the other four. August and I said goodbye to Jake and made our way to Heathrow.

I bought two one-way tickets to LAX, with no layover, and we boarded the next flight to California. I still had No. 6 in the back of my mind but I missed Ari too much to be able to think about anything else.

The flight was brutal. I was sick and shaky from the shock of what I had done. I had not slept in days and I was so worked up about going home that I could not sleep on the plane. Instead, I clutched the armrest so tight that my knuckles were white and my fingers ached with pain. My eyes were bloodshot, my pulse was racing, my lips trembled, and my feet bounced about. When we finally touched down in L.A, I called Margaux’s car service company, and had a car meet us at the door.

August and I arrived at Ari’s house in the late afternoon. We walked up the back steps on to their magnificent deck. There was a dull red stain on the patio where I had nearly bled to death so many months ago. I suppressed the chill that ran up my back, then entered through the sliding glass doors into the kitchen, with August at my heels. I spied Aggie sitting at the island. Her hair was short and she was thin, but she was looking much better than the last time I had seen her.

“Hi.” My voice was raw and scratchy. Aggie turned around, startled.