The Gateway Through Which They Came (17 page)

Sixth Avenue traffic is killer due to all the roadblocks for the parade, so we maneuver our way from Morrison to Broadway. Parking is impossible to find and we end up somewhere on Taylor Street next to some houses. It’s almost five thirty, leaving us thirty minutes before we have to meet Evan in the square. The time on my phone blares back at me, a reminder that my mom is meeting Father Martin right now. I wonder if Father Raimi told him about my visit yesterday. What if Father Martin tells my mother? God, I hope not.

The cold breeze nips at my ears as we walk. I pull my hood over my head and shove my hands into my jeans for warmth. We find our way to Sixth Avenue and head in the direction of Pioneer Square. People of all sorts crowd the sidewalks along with those who’ve set out blankets, making themselves at home. Someone even brought a mini BBQ, which I’m sure is against regulations. The scent of charcoal and burnt hot dogs fills the air and I’m starting to think I should have eaten more than a bowl of cereal for dinner.

“Do you think Evan’s there already?” Trevor asks, pulling the collar of his white shirt closer to his neck. He’s wearing a dark red tie and black slacks for the occasion. I can’t remember the last time I saw him in jeans and a T-shirt.

“I doubt it. He’s always late.” Knowing Evan, he’s probably too busy trying to look good for the ladies. When it comes to having game, Evan doesn’t really have it.

Trevor laughs. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

We dodge some kids who run full-force in our direction, squealing and screaming at the top of their lungs. Either they’re being chased by a masked murderer or they’re way too excited to see Santa. I’m gonna have to go with the latter. Though the masked murderer thing could have made the parade a bit more interesting.

By the time we reach the plaza, the amount of people occupying the outside venue is overwhelming. Pioneer Courthouse Square is like an outside coliseum. The entire thing is structured out of red bricks that make up the floor, running the length of a half circle in layers upon layers to create steps for seating. Large white-tiled pillars surround the plaza, holding up festive banners in honor of the parade. I always loved the way the pillars reminded me of Sparta. Just standing in the center of the square as a kid made me feel like a gladiator. Everyone enjoys this place and the half circle seating that faces toward the middle of the plaza. It gives the onlookers a perfect view of the festivities that often take place there, and of the passing parade that’ll soon start.

I follow Trevor through the crowd and take it all in. Dozens of vendors with their carts and kiosks set up shop on the outskirts under the protective triangle shaped, glass roofs. Lines of people wait as the vendors sell hot chocolate and sweets, and even the glowing halos of lights that children swing along their wrists. It’s absolute chaos as the crowd grows and the clock nears six. Trevor and I are on the lookout for Evan in case he can’t find us through the swarm of faces.

“He’s never gonna find us.” Trevor sounds worried. He climbs to the top of the square slabs of brick and searches from higher ground. “I think I spot him!”

“Where?” I look in the direction he’s pointing.

Trevor climbs down and Evan’s face surfaces between the families in front of me. He’s flanked by Sam and Dean, two of his three brothers. Sam’s a smart talking ten-year-old who dresses identically to Evan with his plaid shirts, and Dean is a twelve-year-old going through some kind of goth phase.

“Babysitting?” I ask.

Evan
hmphs
. “What? Like you were babysitting Koren in Mass?”

I would have smacked him if we weren’t around a bunch of people. Sometimes his jabs weren’t just jabs, they were straight insults hidden by sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say under my breath.

“We don’t need a babysitter. We just wanted to see what you jerks were up to,” Dean says defensively, pushing his black hair out of his face.

“Calm down there, Marilyn Manson. I was just kidding.” I give him a nudge with my fist.

Sam jumps in, the way he always does when he’s feeling left out. “Is Koren your girlfriend or something?”

“Not exactly.”

Trevor changes the subject. “Let’s head toward the street so we can check things out.”

“Sweet,” Evan exclaims. “I want to get close enough to see their costumes this time.”

We all know who he’s referring to. I roll my eyes and Trevor growls a little in his throat. No one notices but me.

The parade has already begun. Christmas music blares from the speakers clinging to the floats and one by one they pass. Some are led by a marching band and others with dance troops or classic cars decorated with wreaths. I’m not all that interested in the decorations or candy being thrown into the street from the students waving to the crowd as they pass. The children watch, wide-eyed, and the parents gleam back proudly, some singing along to the carols.

I keep glancing over my shoulder to look for my mom. I hope she’s enjoying herself for once. Instead of finding her, I see Julie a few feet away. She catches my eye instantly. Whatever frustration she had toward me earlier this week seems gone as she heads in my direction. We’ve never had an argument before, so keeping our distance felt the only way to handle it. I’m glad it seems to have worked.

I turn back and wait for her to appear beside me, while a baton troupe stomps by. Behind them comes the Joseph High float filled with all the faces I can’t stand, except one. Hidden behind the group of cheerleaders flinging their pom-poms, Koren is being pulled to the front by Justin. My stomach drops at the sight of his hand wrapped around hers. It’s exactly the thing I
didn’t
want to see tonight. He’s barely paying attention, waving his other hand like a jackass to the crowd; meanwhile, Koren looks unimpressed. It’s not until her expression seems to falter that she pushes between the others. She’s not smiling or waving. Her mouth opens as if to shout something, and her eyes go round with terror.

I nudge past the man beside me to get closer, to see what she’s seeing. Fingers graze my arm as I force myself through. Julie’s voice says something behind me, but I ignore it. I can’t explain myself to her just now, or ever. All I can do is watch the unreadable expression on Koren’s face.

I turn back to Julie to make her understand, but how could she? It doesn’t matter. I don’t get a word in before she freezes, her attention suddenly on something else. I turn back to Koren, and discover her eyes trained on me.

“Aiden!” she screams, but the sound stops short under all the cheers. I’m not even sure that’s what she said. It could have been anything over this noise.

A funny feeling twists in my gut and the music drowns out as I focus on my surroundings. Something’s here. Is that what Koren was trying to tell me? It can’t be. How could she know? A gust of cold plows through me, but not in the same way a brush of wind sweeps through the air. This is different. This is the energy of a Bleeder, and somewhere within the rush of emotions, is a hum. Vibrating and low, yet hesitant.

I shake off the familiar thrum of a fellow Gateway and take in the pressure weighing upon me. The cold ache in my skin is strong. Whoever this Bleeder is, they’re packing energy. There are too many faces to pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from, but there’s no denying it. It’s watching me, playing with me. The sensation of it surrounds me, circling over and over just as the shadow did on the track. I search hard for something to give it away. Any hint of its proximity to me.

Across the street, a face stares back at me through the crowd.

He’s a teenager with short cropped hair like a Marine. His clothes are desert camouflage that’s been soiled with blood and dirt. It takes a second for me to notice that there aren’t two eyes staring back at me, just one. There’s a messy red hole where the other one should be. The hollowness of the wound is a blackened pit in the darkness, setting off the features of his young face. I wait for him to make a move. It’s hard to tell under these circumstances if a Bleeder is going to be friendly or not. When their life is taken so abruptly by violence, there’s no telling how they will react.

Another pair of eyes captures my attention only feet away from the soldier. Her disheveled brown hair falls around her face in tight, wet curls. She can’t be much older than five. It doesn’t seem out of place to find her there, except she’s wearing a soaking wet nightgown and her feet are bare. The slight bloating of her skin is similar to a drowning victim.

An old man with yellowed skin, and a hole in his throat the size of a cigarette, stands in the street to the right of me. Behind him, a teenage girl with bright platinum hair and bruising around her throat glares in my direction. Chills streak down each of my limbs as I realize that not one, not two, but four Bleeders are staring back at me through the crowd.

Each of them has a look of hunger in their eye. The kind of hunger that begs for salvation, for a taste of freedom; to rid themselves of their defiled bodies. What could bring so many Bleeders here all at once? They don’t travel in packs, at least not that I’ve ever seen. But my biggest concern isn’t so much that as it is: why are they standing there like they’re waiting for something bad to happen?

Floats continue passing by, Koren now long gone. Every time I blink, the Bleeders close in on me. I swear if I could stop blinking, maybe they wouldn’t move at all. My heart races. My biggest fear has come to realization. Right here, in front of all these people, I’m going to be outed. Not as a Gateway, exactly, but as a kid who clearly has issues. Proving all the old rumors about me to be true.

They don’t even know the half of it.

Before I can process what’s happening, the Gateway I sensed seconds ago crashes through everything else, hitting me like a semi-truck. It’s the strongest connection I’ve ever felt. A hum coming at me from all directions. How many are there—one? Two? I can’t tell. Maybe they’ve come to help. They sure are taking their precious time.

My relief is short-lived. The other Gateway’s presence fades faster than it came, disappearing along with the last of the floats. And just like that, I’m left to fend the Bleeders off on my own. Putting my ass right back to square one.

Wonderful.

The Bleeders are closer than ever. Swarming me with no remorse. I push backward through the crowd, looking for an escape. Everything is spinning so badly, I can’t find which way is up. In front of me, I spot Trevor. He must notice my absence when he turns to me, recognition setting on his face. I try to yell for him to stay but I don’t get the chance. Something grabs me from behind.

on, are you all right?” Father Martin’s comforting voice sweeps over me.

Sweat gathers at my brow and I don’t have to see myself to know what I must look like. My face is tight with shock, and my lips are stretched as if nearing a scream. I can’t gather my words to speak, my breath catching in my throat. Mom peeks over Father Martin’s shoulder, her eyes heavy with concern.

“Aiden,” Mom says. “What’s happened? Are you hurt?” Her black hair brushing against her shoulders looks even blacker at night, and her face is twisted into one of those expressions that makes my stomach hurt. She’s frightened.