When a Hitman Gets Haunted by a Ghost
Chapter 81: Runaway

Chapter 81: Runaway

"Lower the gun," Gabriel ground out, stepping towards Elijah.

His voice was so low that Kant almost didn’t recognize it. He scanned Gabriel, trying to understand where the sudden confrontational confidence had come from.

"You’re crossing the line, for heaven’s sake!" Gabriel insisted, gesturing at the boxes with scopolamine. "Opening fire in such a place! Are you out of your mind?"

Kant frowned. That stance. That way of speaking. No— He almost shook his head. No way.

A strange glint flashed in Gabriel’s eyes and his fists clenched. The lights flickered dangerously when he raised his voice.

"YOU DARE DISOBEY ME?!"

The shout echoed in different voices, like a haunted record.

That got Elijah to back off. He cursed, shoved his gun into the waistband of his jeans, and pushed past Kant to the other side of the room. "This is not over."

Kant gaped at the possessed Gabriel, trying to figure out how to approach him. He waited for the flickering to cease and the others to scatter.

Gabriel remained standing there, watching Elijah, then Hunter with reprimanding eyes. But as the tension in the storage room died down, he straightened his sleeve disdainfully and turned away.

But he barely took two steps before his legs wobbled, and he nearly collapsed.

Kant lunged forward, catching his arm just in time. "Hey—"

Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath, shaking him off. "Don’t." His voice was rough, strained, like someone waking from a fever dream.

Kant raised his hands and took a step back. "You okay?"

Gabriel exhaled through his nose, covering his mouth. His hands were trembling again. "No." He swallowed hard, looking green.

That wasn’t good.

Kant looked for something to distract him with, but he didn’t manage to say anything else before the door flew open with a clang. It revealed an empty hallway. It was as if the guards had vanished.

While the others wondered who had opened it, Gabriel lifted his head as if someone had called to him. He moved slowly at first, passing by quietly before breaking into a wild dash out the door, as if he’d been practicing sprints for the past month.

Kant ran after him, but Gabriel was already disappearing down the hall. No way. No one should be that fast.

Hunter didn’t give him the time to think, shoving him towards the exit. "Move it! Go!"

"Huh?" Kant reluctantly moved, quickly checking the empty rooms on the way in case Gabriel was in one of them. "What about the barman?"

"Leave him. He’s too pathetic to kill," Hunter muttered. "I told him to quit this shit. Threatened to track him down if he keeps dealing drugs or shows up anywhere near any Joneses."

Kant raised an eyebrow. "Will you?"

Hunter scoffed. "You think I got nothing better to do?"

And so, they left empty-handed after stirring up a storm.

From one of the bathrooms they passed by came knocks and call-outs of two men being trapped.

Hunter made a joke on the way about how the poltergeist must’ve been on their side. Kant gave a dry chuckle, not really listening.

. . .

Gabriel’s legs barely obeyed as he dove down the hatch. His pulse hammered in his skull, his vision edged with static. Leave. Just leave.

His fingers were clammy and numb as he climbed down the ladder. He jumped the last steps, his feet tingling.

Down the hallways. Left? Right? Which one was the right way?

Whatever. He just ran. He didn’t want to talk to the evil spirit at all anymore. It only brought bad news.

This day was disgusting. Couldn’t it end already?

...No, the sun had just risen. The day was only beginning. And he had work. But how was he going to make it to the office on time? The drive back wasn’t short. He was going to be late. And people were going to judge him for it.

The middle of the escape blurred—one moment, he was running blindly through the underground hallways like a headless chicken, the next, he was standing at the bunker’s exit.

The evil spirit had gotten fed up and taken control again. He had even been kind enough to find Gabriel’s jacket and drape it over him before taking him out through the gnome tunnel.

"Thanks to you, we didn’t get to the safe in the storage room," Hale spat out, leaning on the wall of the bunker, looking as worn-out as Gabriel felt.

Must have gotten a taste of the pounding headache.

"Did you even check if the ledger was there?" Gabriel asked, slumping against the opposite wall. He pulled off his gloves and reached for the second tablet in his pocket.

"I did. It is in there. I’m certain."

Gabriel tilted his head back, swallowing the tablet dry, his throat bobbing in a hard gulp. He sighed and crossed his arms tight around himself. The cold was starting to get to him after the unslept night.

"It was right in our hands." Hale stared back into the deep bunker. "But with you losing your wits, I couldn’t risk pushing you any further."

"Wow, thanks for the care," Gabriel muttered, trudging towards the damned bushes, ready to crawl his way home.

Following the evil spirit to a cult had to be the stupidest, craziest thing he’d ever done. None of this was worth the scraps of incriminating evidence he might have gotten on his uncle.

Screw the corruption, he was going to look the other way and stay away. He wasn’t some fearless hero who was eager to play a spy. No, he wanted to shut the blinds, curl up on his couch and stay there.

As soon as he thought that, memories of the cult members flashed in his mind. Their jaded expressions whenever they were sober...

Against his better judgment, Gabriel glanced back at the bunker. He had seen them. And he knew it wasn’t normal. How could he look the other way?

"We need to plan our return to seize the ledger," Hale called out after him, on his heels.

"No." Gabriel turned away. He wanted to find a way to set the cult members free, but he needed a different approach. One that didn’t involve a mean evil spirit.

"I quit your ’take down Jefferson’ team." Gabriel kicked the bottom of the shrub, trying to create some space for him to get through. "I’m not cut out for this type of thrill."

The evil spirit’s shadow flared. "There is no such thing! It just takes a little," he gestured, "getting used to. You need to experience a few more situations of high pressure to learn to manage yourself."

Gabriel avoided looking at him, fed up. "The doctor told me to stay away from stress. High pressure is the last thing I need."

"If you only stay within your comfort zone, you’ll stay forever weak," Hale harped on. "Will you run away every time something goes mildly wrong?"

"Mildly wrong?" Gabriel’s eyes snapped to him, tearing up in anger. "You possessed me!" His voice cracked. "You should be grateful I’m still talking to you!"

Hale paused, scrutinizing him in offended silence. Then he squared his shoulders, as if rising above it all. "Very well. I will leave you to compose yourself. You know the rest of the way back."

With that, the evil spirit gathered his menacing shadow and exited petulantly.

Gabriel lingered there a minute longer, biting the inside of his lip. Shame followed the anger, nagging him for acting like a weirdo back in the storage room. He even snapped at Kant after all this time of not seeing each other.

"Whatever," Gabriel told the naked branches, rubbing his face in frustration. "He could’ve reached out if he wanted to. Clearly, he has been doing fine."

"Ugh! I don’t care. I’m not clingy. I’m not desperate. In fact, I’ve already moved on!" He pushed into the thick, scratchy bush. "I have my—ouch, it fucking stings!—my pride too!"