Invisible Dawn

by Weston Kincade

  Looks like it goes both ways.

  Before long his mind drifted back to his goddaughter, caught at the top of that decrepit building. Concerned, he finished and threw on another set of clothes. Jedd gathered the blood-stained clothes and threw them into the trash bin. Tying up the plastic bag, he hefted it and his duffel bag in one hand, while pocketing his cell phone with the other. Jedd slipped a few bills into the rent collector and slipped out of the room.

  He headed down the stairs and over to his waiting sedan. Throwing his bags in the trunk, he leapt into the driver’s seat. Seconds later, the car was speeding out of the parking lot. The north-eastern side of town was no more than twenty minutes away. If he was going to find her, he had to find her transference point. Jedd pulled out his phone and checked the records he had discovered years before.

  Yep, thought so. There’s always a transference point. The report called it a temporary finger print. He growled when he saw the name scrawled at the bottom of the digital file … Father Leodenin.

  The car rocketed over small hills of roadway and past a variety of digital billboards. Passing under the many stoplights, Jedd’s thoughts returned to his search. I hope no one’s patrolling these streets. The last thing I need is to get pulled over by a rooky cop, let alone have to explain the stolen car and lack of ID.

  As luck would have it, the patrolmen must have been busy elsewhere. Jedd rolled to a stop at a graffitied stop sign, not far from where he last saw Madelin in this world. Each road was as good as the next. This section of town housed one dilapidated building after another.

  “Dammit!” Jedd shouted, slamming his palm down on the steering wheel. I should have paid attention to where she went. I hope that friend of hers found some way out ’cause this could take a while.

  Choosing the road straight ahead, Jedd stepped on the gas and motored forward.

  An hour later, he was still searching. He passed store signs that seemed familiar but by this point he might have passed the same stores four times or more. Every place looked familiar and his frustration was growing. Glancing down each alleyway, he allowed the car to coast along the road. His nerves were frayed. There had to be a better way to find where she crossed.

  Then something unexpected caught his attention down a darkened alley. Jedd slammed on the brakes and stared into the shadowed passage. A dark shape lay huddled on the ground. Questions flew through his head, attempting to make a connection to Madelin.

  Could she have attacked someone before slipping through the rip? he wondered.

  He could not shake the possibility. As he sat there, the car idling in the street, a collection of vehicles honked from behind. Some were accompanied by verbal pleasantries of a more undesirable nature. Spinning the wheel, he pulled to the side and jumped out of the car. He flew across the street as fast as his feet could take him, ignoring the vulgar insults shouted out car windows.

  As he approached, subtle differences stood out between the prone man and the agents that had been here before. This man wore blue jeans and a brown, leather jacket. He shivered uncontrollably, but Jedd stood transfixed, hesitant to waste time on a stranger.

  What if Madelin’s portal is around the next corner?He almost chuckled out of aggravation. He had been saying that for the last hour. It was already too late. He would have to find another way.

  Peering down at the man lying before him, his thoughts turned to the crumpled form. Although the sun had dropped behind the mountains, the cool desert winds had not picked up yet. He was sweating, yet in the blessed shade of the alley this man was quivering.

  It certainly isn’t an agent.

  Jedd stepped around him and took a good look at the man’s blood-coated face. He had a bulbous, crooked nose, and his eyes were swollen shut. His hands were bloated from countless broken bones. Jedd could not tell how bad the man’s injuries were, but they were gruesome enough to distort his features. It was hard to gauge through the dried blood and swelling, but he guessed mid thirties. Jedd glanced down at his watch and grimaced at the reminder. It was almost eight o’clock.

  “Dammit!” he cursed under his breath, the reality of the situation setting in.

  “H..Hello,” came a muffled voice from the mound of flesh lying at his feet. In a thick Cajun drawl he asked, “Is someone there?”

  After a few silent minutes, Jedd cursed his luck and answered the man. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, but I don’t have a lot of time. Can I do anything for you?” The flat, uncaring tone of his voice scared him.

  What have I become?

  Leaving it up to fate, he gave in and committed himself to the welfare of this injured soul.

  “Look man, you seem to be in a bit of a fix. Is there anything I can do?” Jedd asked, actual concern showing through his words.

  Sniffling a bit, the bloodied man tried to speak louder, as though making a joke. “Well if you’ve got a grand or two you could spare, it would go a long way.”

  The hearty chuckle that escaped his lips turned into a cough that racked his whole body. Then the shivers returned. The prone man let out a slow, pain filled sigh.

  “C-Could you help me up?”

  The man held a swollen hand up to Jedd. One inflamed eyelid opened a slit. It revealed a soul tormented by pain and suffering. Jedd knew that life, the one he saw in the man before him. He knew it all too well. Kneeling down, he placed a gentle arm around the man’s bruised body and lifted him from the ground.

  The limp man anchored his arm around Jedd’s shoulders and whispered through a quiet grimace, “Thank you.”

  The words were sincere and the stench of sweat and dried blood permeated the man’s damp jacket. It occurred to Jedd that this was probably the only help he’d received in a long time.

  After hoisting him upright, Jedd propped him against an aluminum trashcan. He turned to face the unsteady man, leaving a hand on his shoulder for support. Jedd knew it was wrong, but it occurred to him that the man was wavering like a drunken monkey he saw on a comedy clip long ago. The memory brought a brief smile to his face but disappeared as he chided himself for thinking such things. The man had undergone enough abuse to last a lifetime.

  “Look, I’m no doctor, but you must be in some serious pain. Let me help you over to my car, and we can go see a friend of mine.” As he tried to assist the unbalanced man, he was surprised to be pushed away.

  “No, no doctors. They ask too many questions.” The words came out slurred as he attempted to maintain his balance. Somehow he managed to stay upright.

  “Not this one. She’s a friend of mine. No worries.” Jedd let the words sink in before asking, “What’s your name anyways?”

  “Roger.”

  “And how’d you get in this mess?”

  Jedd had a pretty good idea that Roger had a gambling problem and paid the price for it. He was never much of a risk taker but he had been through his share of close scrapes. Some good friends had gone down a disturbing path because of the addiction. Flashes of old friends, long gone due to unfortunate circumstances and a few badly thrown snake-eyes crossed his vision.

  Roger mumbled, “Lady Luck left me high and dry last night.”

  Coaxing Roger with an arm over his shoulders, he eventually leaned into Jedd for support and shuffled across the street to the waiting sedan. After getting the unlucky man situated in the back seat, he started the car and hit the speed dial for Maria. She picked up after the third ring.

  “Hello,” echoed a feminine Spanish accent.

  “Hey, Maria! Long time no hear. It’s Crux,” he replied, as though speaking with a long lost friend.

  He had never liked the nickname, but after the patch-up job she did for him he could not bring himself to dissuade her from using it. There had been nowhere else for him to turn. Besides, it afforded him some anonymity. To this day, she had not asked for his real name.

  “Well hello, stranger,” came the melodious voice with more familiarity.

  “I thought I might stop by. I’ve got something t
hat needs looking at. You got the time?”

  “Now, don’t tell me you went and fell down the stairs again. That bullet was hard to find.” The absurdity of his earlier excuse had not been forgotten.

  “No, not at all. I have a friend I’d like you to meet. He’s anxious to see you.” Earlier in his life, the vagueness of such conversations would have seemed impossible to keep track of, but he had learned.

  “Okay, I get off in a half hour. Meet me there.”

  Hanging up the phone, Jedd turned at the light and sped up the I10 ramp. He would have to push it to get to Maria’s in time. The sedan roared as he floored the pedal. Switching into gear, it settled back into a mechanical rhythm. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Jedd smiled as Roger slid across the back seat, as content as a baby with the engine crooning its sooth lullaby.

  At least he isn’t shivering like before.

  The half-hour drive across town gave Jedd time to consider his options and what the next step would be. The panic and frustration he felt before had passed and been replaced with hope and determination. If the rugged man she was with was unable to protect her, he was certain the PASTOR agents had been ordered not to harm her. She is of no use to them dead. He wanted to contact her again, but the fact that Leodenin had controlled his focus was troubling and something that would have to be dealt with.

  Besides, driving while asleep probably wouldn’t be the best idea, thought Jedd with a laugh. I’ll deal with it later, when I’ve got the time. He hated to put her off, but now was not the time.

  His thoughts went to the man she befriended. Why is he helping her? What did he stand to gain?

  But before he had come up with any answers, they entered the warehouse district. The sedan came up to an open gate of rusted chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. A faded sign hung off the fence. It read, “No Trespassing”.

  Passing beyond the old gate and into the large expanse of overgrown parking lots, Jedd angled the car toward a small cluster of buildings on the far end of the lot. As they drew closer to a small white building, he saw Maria’s extended SUV parked along side. Jedd pulled up next to the building, behind her vehicle.

  Rounding the car, he helped a drowsy Roger out of the back seat and placed one arm over his shoulders. The disheveled man stumbled over the warehouse’s threshold and with Jedd’s assistance, made it into the building. Stepping into the unlit room felt eerie and the stale air greeted him like a meat locker. A light illuminated an opaque curtain in the corner opposite him. Without a word, Altran cradled the hurt man around the waist and pulled him to the enclosed area. Jedd stepped through the plastic curtains and found a dark haired Maria laying out her instruments on a metal stand.

  “Wow, Maria, you look great. What have you been up to?” The small talk had become normal on the few visits he made to this warehouse, even while she was stitching him up. It helped distract him since she only used mild anesthetics.

  “Thanks,” Maria replied with a grin, but her mind was on the necessity for her services. Business first. “So where’s this friend of yours?” Looking up from her instruments, she found the answer to her question sliding off Jedd’s shoulder.

  The sight of Roger changed her demeanor in an instant. She was all business now. She grabbed his other arm and helped him onto the medical bed. After getting him situated, she reached into a metal bowl and drew out a damp white hand towel. She rinsed his face and arms, careful not to apply too much pressure. Roger winced a couple times, but otherwise looked as though he had drifted off to sleep.

  Jedd almost continued the banter, but then thought better of it as he watched her hands and face. They moved with a diligent and firm certainty. Roger was the patient this time and he noticed a few things he had not before. Maria stood straight and thin, a lab coat housing her slender body. Her black hair was pulled into a pony tail that revealed high check bones and dark eyelashes. They complimented her dark skin tone. She wore very little make up, but glowed with a natural Mexican beauty. She had been out in the sun recently and the deep tan helped to enhance her good looks.

  Before his thoughts could continue, he was interrupted by Maria’s firm, professional voice. “So what’s his name?”

  With reality setting in, Jedd suppressed his desires and focused on the question. “Oh … uhh … Roger.”

  Maria’s dark eyes sought him out with a questioning, sidelong glance. “Roger... What about a last name?”

  Her probing questions were more than she asked any time before, but he had put her reputation on the line by asking her to help someone new. Her motivation occurred to him. He knew what was about to come, but answered honestly.

  “I don’t know.”

  She had no reaction, just continued to poke and prod various spots on his arms and face.

  “What happened to him? Did you push him down the stairs?” The words were a reminder of his previous lies.

  “He got beaten to a pulp, I guess,” Jedd replied, trying to infuse the statement with a bit of uncaring laughter, but it faded at the look she shot him. “From the little he said, I figure he has a gambling debt and couldn’t pay up. He’s a very recent acquaintance.”

  Maria’s anger flared. Her accent made the words almost indistinguishable. “You haven’t known him long enough to figure out more than his first name, yet you felt it was okay to put my neck on the line! Do you even know if it’s his real name? If he owes somebody money, how long do you think it’ll be before my name comes up? I don’t need calls from bookies or other crooks...” In anger, her rapid words transitioned into harsh, inflected Spanish before trailing off.

  Jedd stared at her blankly. Turning away, she glared at the metallic ceiling high above them and searched for some logical explanation of why he had enlisted her help. After a few minutes, she assumed her professional demeanor and turned back to the patient, unbuttoning his shirt for a closer look.

  Jedd interrupted her thoughts with apologetic words. “I trust him.”

  Her fingers paused at one of Roger’s shirt buttons before mumbling, “How could you? You’ve known him for how long?” All pretenses had disappeared with her outburst, but at least her calm demeanor had returned.

  “I know his kind…,” he began, but trailed off to a whisper.

  He wanted to say more, to tell her that he was just like him, a man suffering through life, unable to get a grip on anything; a tide of unfulfilled expectations and inevitable death buffeting him from all sides, threatening to throw him over the waterfall of mortality at any minute. But that was too much. His secrets were his own, now, as they had been for more years than he could count.

  He left off with downcast eyes and the final word on Roger, “I trust him as I do myself.”

  No more was said. Jedd turned and walked through the fold in the curtain and headed for a dark corner. Now was the time to think about more important matters.

  Where was Madeline?

  Finding a spot on the concrete floor, he sat down and propped his back against a steel column. With legs outstretched, he watched Maria’s shadow work through the drawn curtain before sleep overtook him.

  Jedd found the search for Madelin to be much more difficult than he expected. The most recent attempts had placed him in her vicinity but this time, Jedd appeared in the sky far above the city. Looking down, he could see a multitude of people heading to and from work. The echo of cars honking and people shouting carried on the winds. Concentrating on Madelin did not help. Considering the worst possible outcome, he was left heartbroken.

  If she wasn’t able to escape, will I at least be able to find her body?

  Unwilling to accept the possibility, Jedd flew closer to the city for a better look. He began what might prove to be an endless and futile search by skimming over-top. Coasting over the city, Jedd sought Madelin out. His thoughts combed through the crevices. The more rundown areas of town were closest, so he went to the north-east side first. Searching the crowded streets was tedious but if they had somehow cloaked her signa
l or something had been done to her, he would never forgive himself for not checking every possibility. She could have changed clothes, so basing the search on her attire was not enough. Willing himself down to the streets below, he searched face after face.

  After hours of thorough investigation, and having covered only a fraction of the city, he found himself drained and depressed. Unable to focus, he lifted himself higher, to the tops of the buildings and scanned the rooftops and windows. He now knew this section of town well enough to draw out each block and building in minute detail. However, the effort seemed to have been in vain.

  Jedd gave up and let himself be drawn back into his body. Having adjusted to the trip, he felt nothing of the queasiness that plagued him days before. He awoke on the cold concrete floor, his limbs numbed by the moist refrigerated air filtering into the building. He wished the deadness could spread, encapsulating his heart and freeing him from the decisions that had tormented him for so long. Now he felt nothing but sadness, complete and utter futility. His failure weighed on him. It was as though he were the Greek God Atlas, holding the world on his shoulders.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Jedd glanced at the backlit corner of the building. Maria was nowhere to be seen but he could see Roger stirring on the medical bed. He had no wish to move, just to die where he lay, but his curiosity tugged at him. Pulling himself up off the floor, Jedd attempted to work out the kinks and stiffness that had invaded his back and then made his made his way toward the makeshift operating room.

  Once he stepped into the light, Roger drowsily looked his way, attempting to focus on what Jedd concluded must be three different versions of him.

  Evidently the drugs were in full swing.

  Much of the swelling had abated and the stranger’s face was clear of blood, but a few cuts and a lot of bruises were now visible. The patient’s shirt hung over his shoulders and sprawled across his bedside. Looking Roger over, he noticed that his nose was still bent and crooked. This was not the first time it had been broken. There were a few scars on his arms that the bandages failed to cover but what stood out most was the Navy tattoo on his bicep.