Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

last few months, was lazily hanging around my face and onto my shoulders. I determined I would have to do something about that later. Shaving off the beard had further revealed the lined and weathered face of someone who had spent a good portion of their life outside. The only feature the hardened suntanned mug looking back lacked were the smile lines of someone who actually enjoyed their life and the work they were doing.
    Another pang of guilt and sadness enveloped me for a moment before I regained control and pushed my emotions back down into the recesses of my soul. That is where I had been keeping them, and that is where they were going to stay. I had no use for emotions clouding my mind at the moment. Frank’s murder needed to be avenged, and I would not be able to accomplish that acting like a weepy child missing his best friend.
    Shaking it off, I rinsed the excess soap off of my face and wrapped a band around my hair to keep it there. Digging through my belongings, I finally found the small amount of deodorant that I had kept in reserve for special occasions. I applied it liberally to my underarms, noting with some satisfaction that there was still enough left for at least one more application.
    Realizing that there was a little over an hour left of sunlight, I pulled on one of the wet jeans and the oldest shirt, keeping the clothes I would be wearing on the trip out as I packed up the rest of my belongings.
    Putting the pack over my shoulder, I carried the other clothes over my arm and left the showers. Heading back outside, I found a likely spot on the south-west side of the building and laid out my traveling clothes to dry. Finding a tree nearby, I took refuge from the still-hot setting sun and finished off my pop.
    I hated this time of day; the approaching twilight had always tempted me with thoughts of my approaching demons. The nighttime hours with the lack of constructive things to do would sometimes leave my mind too free to wander, the thoughts crowding into my head faster than I could handle. Thoughts of Betty, of our life together, of her death, all crowded in and beat themselves on the side of my brain until I was sure I would perish from sadness.
    I had worked my butt off daily, hoping beyond hope that I would be too tired to lie awake for more than a few minutes once I lay down. Most nights it worked; some very long ones, it didn’t.
    As the sun started to set, I checked my clothes, finding them sufficiently dry enough to wear. Gathering them up, I again headed for the restroom, changing into the dry ones as I stuffed the others into my pack. I still had two hours to kill, but I would find my gate and wait it out in the terminal. Hopefully the passing travelers would keep my attention until it was time to board.
    As I took a seat at the gate, the sadness started creeping up my spine once more. I pulled out my old Marshwood sunglasses, letting them hide the tears forming in my eyes in the dimly lit terminal. I let sad thoughts of Betty wash over me for a few minutes; they were the only kind of memories of her I had at the moment. I normally pushed down the thoughts engulfing me now, but sometimes the loneliness was more powerful than my willpower. After all, even sad thoughts of my Betty were better than no thoughts of her at all.
    I thought about our last time together before she had been shot, holding each other’s hand as we rushed along the backcountry roads on our way to confronting Jasmine. We had both had a feeling, a feeling something was going to change. If I’d only turned around, slowed down, had a flat tire, anything different that may have saved Betty.
    I could still feel the touch of her hand in mine, the love transmitted by a touch that many people never got to experience with another. These were the thoughts crowding my head as a lone tear made its way down my cheek, stopping momentarily on my chin before falling to the floor between my feet.

Chapter 8
    August 20, 1998
     
    May 30,