Date: Sun, 27 Jun 2010 12:19:19 -0500
From: Jason Gordon <jaygordon_1981@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Devil's Gambit Ch. 1

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction which will include t/t and
m/m relationships, and probably some sex too.  If it is illegal in your
area to read this, or if you are not old enough to read this (you know who
you are), stop here.  Otherwise, please enjoy.



		       The Devil's Gambit, Chapter 1
			 "The Boy in the Shadows"



   Tom Corman stepped onto his porch, and felt cooling autumn air rush over
his body as a gentle breeze picked up.  Next door, a slightly annoying wind
chime was rattling out a discordant tune.  The setting sun at his back, he
stared down the street.  He'd been out every evening around this time with
a feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong.  Always, he looked east
up the street, expecting ... what?  There was evil in the air and he could
feel it on his skin, like an oily film.  Today, the feeling was so strong
that he stepped off his porch and started walking in that direction.  Just
in the distance, a dark figure rested in the shadows of a big shade tree.
As he drew closer, his feelings of apprehension increased.  Definitely
here.  But as he came closer, he became perplexed.  The young man who sat
at the base of the tree, leaning back and cradling his head in his hands
couldn't be....

    He stepped on a twig and the young man -- well, perhaps that was a
stretch -- looked over at him, his head snapping up with painful speed.
His eyes were a pale grey, and he could barely keep them open, and they
stared blankly from beneath honey blond hair.  He had the body of a runner
and looked as if he might stand 5'6" -- maybe weighing in at 120, wet.  If
he was 17, Tom would have been surprised.  The blank look was getting to
him, and he finally came close enough to realize that the young man was not
resting, he was bleeding to death.  Tom was at his side in an instant,
pulling a phone from his pocket.

    "911..."

    "Yes, a boy's been stabbed...."

    "Thank you for holding, all of our operators are currently busy...."

    "Fuck!  Fucking shit," he declared as he put the phone on speaker and
sat it next to the boy.  There was a stab wound in his chest that was
bubbling air -- looked as if it had penetrated the lung.  Tom took off his
sweatshirt and pressed it into the wound, trying to slow the blood flow.
The young man just moaned and his head lolled.

    "Stay with me," Tom pleaded.

    "911 Call Center, Mary speaking, what is your emergency?"

    "I found a teenager stabbed down the street from my house...."  Tom
rattled off a rough address.  "He was stabbed in the chest, I think he has
a perforated lung...."

    "Police and medics are en route, sir....  Please stay on the line until
they arrive...."  But a siren was already blaring in the distance.  Soon a
police car pulled up on the curb and the officers rushed to help, but there
was nothing to be done until the medics arrived, which they did two minutes
later, just as the boy lost consciousness.

    "Sir!  Sir!  Thank you....  Let us take over...."  The medic grabbed
his arm and moved him away, letting his partner get to work.  In around a
minute, they were putting him in the back and getting ready to drive off.

    In a daze, Tom snapped back to reality.  "Where are you taking him?"

    "Saint John's," the man said, as he hopped in the passenger side.

    One of the cops suggested Tom follow them to the hospital and they'd
get his statement there, so he ran down to his car and followed the police
to the hospital.  They got there fast because they rode with sirens.  The
two cops led Tom into the ER, and gave them a statement describing how he
found the boy and all that he knew, which wasn't much.  The older cop, the
gruff but kindly sort, went to enter his statement into the system and
check in with crews on the scene, while the younger cop would remain at the
hospital, in case someone tried to finish the job.

    He was handsome in his uniform, looking like a rookie of about
twenty-five but he was no rookie, Tom could see, as he had a few bars
pinned to his uniform.  His black hair was carefully maintained, and his
green eyes sparkled with energy.  And even in his state, Tom couldn't help
but notice how the uniform tightly molded to his athletic frame.  Perhaps
Tom let his eyes wander too extensively, because the cop put a hand on his
shoulder and smiled.

    "You alright, Mr. Corman?"

    "It's Dr. Corman, but you can call me Tom, please....  No, no I'm not
alright....  I...."  Suddenly the young cop looked concerned and helped the
man into his seat.

    "I'm sorry, I ...  doctor?  You look a little young...."

    "I am....  I'm twenty-six, but I got my Ph.D. two years ago," Tom said,
smiling in a far-off way.

    "That's damn impressive," the man said, and his face said he meant it.

    "Well, you don't seem to be doing so bad yourself....  You can't be
twenty-five, and you seem to have a few commendations...."

    "Call me Aiden, if Officer Reynolds isn't around....  I am
twenty-five....  Yeah, I went to the University of Tennessee Knoxville and
studied sociology -- criminology -- and joined the force immediately....  I
had a string of lucky breaks, got partnered with a few good cops....  Plus,
I'm doing some graduate work part time at Peterson -- profiling, advanced
criminological techniques, that sort of thing...."

    "Sounds like you have some ambition," Tom said with a smile.  The man
shrugged and smiled, embarrassed.

    "You must have had a little yourself...."

    "Not really....  Sad to say, I just had too much time on my hands....
I was a scared, lonely little boy who threw himself into school, finished
high school at fifteen, college at nineteen, and grad school at
twenty-three...."  His smile as he said it was sad and a little weary, and
the officer's face looked empathetic.  "But things got better, I got a
life, so to speak, and got ... less afraid of the world.  Thanks to someone
... special.  But then....  And today....  today brings all that back...."

    "What happened?"

    "Well, we met after I moved here, and it was wonderful.  I'd never
trusted anyone completely before and, well, I really came out of my shell,
you know?  But one day ... we went on a long weekend to Memphis, just for
fun, you know....  There was a mugging, and I don't know why they decided
to stab," Tom had started crying already, but here a sob ripped through his
throat.  Aiden put his hand on Tom's forearm and squeezed.  "I've got a
scar here," Tom finally added, indicating a long scar in his abdomen
through his shirt.  "I almost didn't make it; Jamie didn't....  It's been
nine months and this morning was the first time I left my porch, except to
go to campus and teach, or to get groceries....  And I find a boy with
a...."

    At that point a doctor came out of the emergency room and walked up to
the officer.  "Are you here about the John Doe with a stab wound?"  They
both nodded.  "Are you family," the doctor asked Tom.

    "No, I found him and called the police...."

    "I'm sorry, but I can only talk to the officer, unless you're
family...."  Aiden looked sadly at Tom, who walked away.  When the doctor
was gone, Aiden walked over to him and said, "There's nothing they can do,
he says, except wait.  They've done what they can...."  Tom grimaced and
punched the wall, and Aiden put a hand on his shoulder, a bit too
familiarly.

    Tom closed his eyes and cried through the lids.  Then he looked at
Aiden desperately.  "Can you get me in to see him?  I only need ... a few
minutes...."

    Aiden looked at the ceiling and sighed.  "Five minutes, and I can't let
you alone with him...."

    Nervously, Tom nodded, and Aiden led the way past the nurse's station,
waving off protests.  The boy was clearly in bad shape, and his vital signs
were weak.  Tom put his hand on the boy's chest without any pressure and
closed his eyes, dredging the words up from deep memory.  He had found them
in a medieval Hebrew text of an ancient prayer.  Slowly, he began to recite
the Hebrew melodically, almost like a song: "Oh Lord of mercy, if it
pleases your will, send forth your healing power from the endless font of
life.  The powers of the air tremble at a single word, the earth shrinks
before you.  This mortal of flesh and blood awaits your decision.  Let your
Hesed, your loving mercies, shine forth upon this innocent boy...."  If his
eyes had been open, he would have seen the fear and awe on Aiden's face, as
his voice unnaturally magnified in the room, and a glowing light between
his hands and the boy's body.  But he did hear the other voice, the
screeching angry voice, cry out, "THE BOY IS NOT INNOCENT!"  But Tom
persisted, "this innocent boy created in the image of the ALMIGHTY, whose
light still shines within his breast.  Oh Lord, overlook the sins of thy
servant.  You desire repentance, not death....  Oh Lord, show mercy, oh
Lord, show mercy, oh Lord, show mercy...."  The light intensified, and the
room felt heavy, but slowly, as the light faded, the boy's heartbeat and
pulse, as well as his respiratory numbers, increased.  At last, Tom opened
his eyes and retracted his hands.  Slowly, gently, he leaned over and
kissed the boy's forehead.

    He turned to Aiden to find the young officer standing slack jawed,
looking at him with an expression mixing awe and terror.  As Tom stepped
toward him, Aiden took a step back and held out a hand.  "What ... what did
you do?"

    Sadly, Tom took a step away.  He had liked the young man, who was now
terrified of him.  "I'm sorry you had to see that....  I did what I had to
do...."

    The doctor arrived and asked, "What are you two doing in here?"

    "I ... came to see how he was and give him a prayer, a kind of last
rights....  It seems he has turned a corner, doctor," Tom said, "if you'd
like to take a look...."

    "So you're clergy," the doctor stated as much as asked, as he checked
the boy's vitals.  "That makes a difference....  Amazing...."

    "I can wait outside for updates...."

    "No, no, its fine," the doctor mumbled.  Aiden stood silently by as the
doctor examined the patient, who, miraculously, seemed to be surfacing.  He
moaned and groaned, but his eyes flickered open.  Looking around the room,
he lifted an arm toward Tom, but it quickly fell.  Tom closed the distance
and took the boy's hand and felt a weak squeeze.  The boy smiled ever so
weakly, before whispering, "... not innocent...."  Tom shivered a little
and Aiden, who was clueless, took a step forward.  He'd heard the angry
voice as well, and he knew the boy must have.

    "Doctor, I'd like to make sure he has what he needs, can I give you my
number for someone to call me if he asks for, or if he needs, something
special?"  The man nodded and took his number, and put it on the chart.
    Officer Reynolds returned and Aiden shakily reported on the boy's
improved status.  "Wonderful, wonderful....  We found a knife nearby, so
hopefully we'll find prints....  Are you okay sitting on the room, Officer
O'Connel?"

    He looked at Tom warily, and Tom was surprised at how much it hurt.  He
really liked the young man, but who was he kidding?  There wasn't anything
there....  The man was cute and probably straight....  But even if he
wasn't, he was scared shitless.  At last, Aiden replied, "Yeah, yeah I'm
fine...."

    Soon, the three -- patient, policeman, and the witness -- were left
alone, Tom sitting beside the bed and Aiden carefully avoiding his gaze in
the corner.  "I'll leave if it'll make you more comfortable.... I'll leave,
Officer O'Connel, if you'll call me if there's any change...."  Aiden
looked at him and visibly flinched at the way Tom said O'Connel with a
little bitterness.  Maybe the man did care....  When Aiden didn't answer,
Tom stood and walked past the curtain and down the hall.  He knew the man
couldn't, and wouldn't, follow him beyond the doors as he exited the
hospital into the dark night.  He was on duty.

    Tom got home and took off his t-shirt and pants; discovering blood on
both, he put a stain remover on them and tossed them in with a load of
laundry.  It was now nearly nine and he was desperately hungry.  He thought
of cooking but he was tired, both emotionally and physically.  Channeling
divine energy will do that to you....

    Picking up a stack of menus, he called his favorite Chinese place and
ordered enough food to guarantee leftovers, then went to the bedroom and
pulled on some sweatpants and a white undershirt.  Tom looked down at
himself.  Ever since he had met Jamie, he had learned to appreciate
himself.  He had started working out as a teenager in college.  He thought
he would look less out of place among the older students if he bulked up a
little, so he started running and lifting.  Now he was nearly six feet tall
and had the body of a gymnast.  But he never thought he looked good until
Jamie.  Jamie appreciating him helped him appreciate himself.  He was a
tall, strong, handsome man, his light brown hair and blue eyes accenting a
perfect face.  His abs were flat, and showed a six pack after he exercised,
and his pecs were, well, impressive.

    He tossed himself on the couch and turned the television on to wait.
The news was on, but he couldn't bear it -- too depressing, so he turned to
some comedy in progress and went to pour himself a glass of wine.  The
doorbell rang, and he opened the door to find a young delivery man, a cute
20 year old hunky blond guy who looked vaguely familiar.  Tom could feel
the boy's eyes raking over his body and felt a little boost.

    "Uhm, uh," the boy said, cutely, as he got caught gawking, "here's your
order, Dr. Corman...."  Tom smiled and took the food.

    "Come on in, let me get my wallet...."  Hesitantly, the boy did follow
him inside, not afraid, but just very nervous.  "I'm embarrassed, I know I
know you, but I'm blanking...."

    "Billy Thompson....  I was in your introduction to philosophy class
your first semester -- mine too."

    Of course, Billy -- he'd always thought the kid was cute.  Cuter now,
he said, smiling to himself as he fished through his wallet.  He caught the
boy surreptitiously checking him out and smiled even more brightly.  "I
remember...."

    "I really enjoyed it," the boy added with a shy smile.

    Tom walked up close to him and put a twenty in his hands, letting his
fingers linger on the boy's soft skin.  "Thank you for saying....  Keep the
change....'

    "Thank you, sir," he said, walking to the door.

    As Tom stood at the door him, he called, "See you around!"  The boy
smiled and waved and Tom closed the door.  What are you doing flirting with
a twenty-year-old, he asked himself, smiling.  But then he reminded himself
that he was only twenty-six and not exactly a dirty old man.  Billy was
cute and in another context....  Hell, maybe in this context....  But his
mind wandered back to the raven-haired O'Connel.  When the man smiled, he
was soooo damn hot....

    Tom ate his dinner and sat down to watch the television, but soon, the
wine and tiredness lulled him to sleep.  He was awakened after eleven by a
knock at the door.  Strange.  Maybe Billy's come back, he thought to
himself with a laugh.  But he opened the door and his breath caught in his
throat....


****************************

More to come soon.  If you enjoyed this story, you might consider my other
on-going stories at Nifty, Fantasy/SciFi, Things that Go Bump and A Light
in the Darkness.

Or, better, send me a note and join my Yahoo!Group,
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/jaygordon_1981/

jaygordon_1981@hotmail.com