Breakdown - 36. 34 Where The Road Meets

The call had come very early in the morning. Cam had slapped at his alarm clock ineffectively for at least fifteen seconds before he realized that it was 5:02AM, about two hours before his alarm was set to go off.

Gabriel grumbled beside him, something about Cam needing to take less time in the shower so they could snuggle longer in the morning. This comment caused the side of Cam’s mouth to tilt up just a little. Finally, his morning-numb fingers closed over his cell phone.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hello, Cameron.”

Cam’s body stiffened at the sound of the voice. Two days. He said he would come back in two days. Cam glanced at his phone, wondering if he had somehow picked up the red plastic phone by mistake, but no, this was his personal phone.

In fact, he hadn’t seen the red phone since Aziel left. Had he taken it with him?

Cameron could not reply, save for a soft croak. Gabriel was alerted to Cam’s reaction, and slowly sat up from the bed, hugging his knees and keeping his peace. He watched the conversation intently, lacking his glasses.

“I want you to take the car that is left for you downstairs. The keys have been left in your mailbox,” he said quietly. “Head down to the Greyhound bus depot. There, you will find a row of lockers, some large and some small. Use the small key on the key ring.”

“Wait, what?“

“The bus depot checks the lockers every twenty-four hours to make sure that items are not left for more than a day,” Aziel continued, ignoring Cam’s interruption. “You have until tonight to reach the locker.”

The line went dead.

Cam stared at the phone, as if expecting it to give him answers. He swallowed thickly; unsure of what game Aziel was playing now.

Dressed and washed with Gabriel at his side, Cam ventured downstairs and checked his mailbox. True to Aziel’s word, there was an envelope with a set of keys inside. There was no description of the car on the keys, but Cam recognized them immediately. They belonged to the car that Aziel had given him while he was in Chicago.

As Cam proceeded towards the car, Gabriel thought to address the obvious.

“Do you really think this is a good idea? What if it’s a car bomb?” he asked.

Cam shot him a look, pulling his green coat closer around himself. “If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it personally,” Cam said his voice low. “A car bomb… isn’t involved enough for him.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t like this, Cam,” he said.

“I don’t either, but…” he trailed off, looking down the street, his arm resting on the roof of the car. There weren’t many people on the street yet; the sky was still mostly dark. Cam lost himself for a moment, returning to earth at Gabriel’s prodding.

“Cam?”

“I have to finish this,” he said, unlocking the car. “I have to make sure that he means it, that he’s never coming back.”

Gabriel glanced down the street to where Cam had been looking, and then nodded. He climbed into the passenger seat. The car had been completely overhauled; it looked like Aziel took it in to get detailed. Cam was sure that Aziel wouldn’t have been in the car since the detailing, not risking leaving a telltale sign of his presence. The foresight gave Cam the shivers.

Taking things slowly, Cam drove his twisted way down to the Greyhound bus depot. The depot appeared to have opened at 5AM, and Cam couldn’t help but wonder if Aziel was somewhere in the station, watching for him. He thought that was probably ridiculous, why would Aziel care if he picked up the package that was waiting for him?

Hands shaking, Cam parked the car and entered the large brick building. People were moving their slow and sleepy way from one end to the other, their bags draped over their shoulders. Dull, muffled announcements proclaimed what buses were arriving and departing at the large station. With Gabriel trailing behind him, Cam found the signs that guided him to the lockers.

A wall of large and small blue lockers greeted him at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Some of the lockers were dented, others were sprayed over with graffiti. There was a long, wooden bench down the middle of the room, as if this were some kind of locker room. Cam could almost seen Aziel down here, wearing his trench coat with his blue bag at his side. His gaze determined and focused, he would lance through the crowds like a shark among minnow. Cam shook his head and the image disappeared.

Checking his key ring, he found a small key with a plastic end with the number “36” melted in. Trembling with anticipation, he found locker number 36. It was a medium-sized locker, devoid of any marks save for a small scuff near the bottom edge. Cam looked back at Gabriel.

“The worst part is,” Cam said his voice hoarse and thick, “Is that I’m already wanting another dose of his drugs.”

Gabriel put a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. Cam clasped his hand over top of Gabriel’s.

“I feel horrible,” he said. “I don’t want to know what’s in here. I’m afraid he’s left something I won’t be able to deal with.” Cam swallowed. “What if he’s left me some of those drugs? I can’t have those… I can’t take them. I have to quit this, I have to quit him.”

Whether Cam was aware of what he had said or not was unclear. Gabriel just squeezed again, hoping against hope that Cam was strong enough to beat Aziel’s poison a second time. If what was in the locker was what Cam feared, Gabriel would take it away and remove the temptation.

Cam put the key in the lock in a sudden leap of determination, his heart in his throat. He turned the key forcefully, nearly tearing the plastic head from the key. With a cry, he pulled open the door.

Inside was an envelope tacked to the back wall and a blue duffle bag.

Fingers shaking and white, Cam opened the envelope first. He forced his bloodless lips to read aloud.

Cameron,

Congratulations. You have been the first to come this far.

In the bag is what I owe you. Use it wisely.

-A

Cam let the letter fall from his fingers to the floor, and pulled out the duffle bag. It was fairly heavy. He set it on the wooden bench in the middle of the empty locker room, glancing around furtively before dragging open the blue zipper.

“Holy shit,” Gabriel breathed, looking over Cam’s shoulder.

Cam quickly shut the bag, looking around the small room again before taking a better look at what lay inside.

Cash. Bricks of it. Cam didn’t have any idea how much would be in there, but it was much more than he had brought with him on his initial flight to Minneapolis. Why was Aziel giving him this? Was it because he had passed his crazy test and won the grand prize?

Later, Cam would find out that Aziel had given him $500,000 in cash, unmarked non-sequential bills. It felt surreal. Combined with the car that Aziel had returned to him, Cam was left with an oddly queasy feeling in his stomach. Use it wisely? Did that mean that Aziel was going to check up on him? Cam spent a lot of time trying to figure out what to do with the money.

His initial response was to throw the bag and its contents over a bridge somewhere and forget about it. Let some lucky bum find a bag full of money and make himself a happy little home out of whiskey bottles. But the warning on the message, the note of using the money wisely… it gave Cam pause. Would Aziel be furious if he did something like that?

Instead, with Gabriel’s help, he would set up a retirement fund and paid his tuition for college. He was left with the dilemma of wondering if Aziel’s actions had done more harm or help. Would he ever be able to make that decision?

Would Jared’s death ever be worth whatever Cam achieved?

Cam looked down at the duffle bag, his eyes watery. Everything had happened so fast that he had barely comprehended his grief. It suddenly overwhelmed him, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

No, whatever Aziel had done to change him for the good was not worth the death of a friend. It was a nightmare, a vicious waking nightmare that he would spend the rest of his life recovering from. What was money in the face of terror, addiction, and death? It had resulted in Cam’s breakdown; he had seen rock bottom, felt it against his flesh and in his veins. Now, he had the hard climb back up to sunlight.

Gabriel’s hand on his shoulder reminded him that he was not alone in his struggle, and he offered his lover a watery, unsure smile.

“This is the end,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and wet.

The end of the experiment left Aziel with a vague sense of satisfaction. Cam’s evolution had been entirely unexpected and keenly welcomed. Aziel loved watching response to pressure; it was what made him such a clever killer. Understanding which way someone would run, knowing the result of fear… It was only fair that he reward someone that had so surpassed his expectations.

It was time to return to his life with Mark, and for a while live the illusion of a well-adjusted member of society. Aziel rarely thought of himself as a social aberration; instead he believed that he was outside the box of social interaction. A silent observer of the rats running the maze.

Only with the acquisition of Mark had he realized that he was as much a victim of the maze as his subjects. The only thing he could do was make sure that his corner of the maze was as comfortable as to be expected. Was there more to life than this? If there was, Aziel didn’t care anymore. His experiments furthered his desire for distance, allowing these moments of peace and tranquility to seep through his cold exterior.

Aziel returned home and scooped up the waiting Mark into his arms. Mark nuzzled into his neck, holding him tightly. Aziel kicked the door shut with his heel, dropping his blue bag on the floor of the entryway. Mark smelled soft, as if he had been lying in bed just waiting for Aziel to come home.

“I missed you,” Mark said, stroking his fingers through Aziel’s long hair.

“And I you,” he said sincerely, wrapping his arms tightly around Mark’s waist. It felt good to be home. The last few days had been a whirlwind of travel. He felt incredibly tired, despite his brief sleep on the flight home.

“I wish you didn’t have to go away so much,” Mark pouted, kissing Aziel’s ear.

“Then I have some good news for you,” he replied.

Mark perked up. “What’s that?”

“The task I had to complete is done,” he answered. “While I’ll still have to leave occasionally, I should be able to spend more time at home.”

Mark’s delight was evident in the furious hug that Aziel received. This drew a soft chuckle from the assassin.

“Let me unpack my things,” he said.

Mark parted from him with reluctance. “Did you bring me anything?”

Aziel gave him a sly look. “From Minneapolis? What could you possibly want?” he asked.

Mark rolled his shoulders, putting his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I dunno,” he said. “Maybe a fridge magnet or something.”

“A fridge magnet.”

“Or something.”

“You want a fridge magnet from Minneapolis.”

“I’m not saying it has to be a fridge magnet…”

“From Minneapolis.”

“Well…”

“Have you ever been to Minneapolis?”

“No…” Mark was furiously pouting now, hanging his head.

“How about I take you to Cancun next week instead?” Aziel asked, picking up his blue bag. “Or do you still want the fridge magnet?”

“Cancun!” Mark exclaimed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Aziel said, starting down the hallway to their bedroom. Mark scurried in his wake, hopping from one foot to the other.

“Really? Cancun? What if I can’t get the time off work?” he asked.

“I already spoke with your boss,” Aziel replied, throwing his bag on the bed.

Mark stood in the doorway, one finger at his lips, his eyes on the carpet. He moved over to the bed and stood beside Aziel, looking up at him with dark, wide eyes. With his finger at his lip, he severely asked:

“Can I still get a fridge magnet?”

Aziel shot him a playfully irritated glare and shoved him onto the bed, where Mark giggled until Aziel silenced him with a hearty kiss.