The Warning

by Saul, Jonas

  Annoying as hell, but that’s life. Annoying as shit.

  He knocked for the third time.

  Through the front door he heard footsteps approaching, a curtain pulled back a little, Caleb’s face peered out and then the deadbolt unlatched, the door swinging open.

  “Parkman?”

  “I came by to see how Sarah’s doing. It’s my day off and I wanted to talk to her about a couple details that still seem foggy to me.”

  “Come on in.”

  Caleb stepped aside to allow him entrance. The foyer was wide and allowed ample room for both men to stand a few feet apart. Caleb didn’t move for the stairs or call up to Sarah. He just stared at Parkman.

  “Can you get her for me, or should I just go up to her room?”

  Caleb gestured for the living room behind Parkman. “Please, come in, sit down and let me get you a drink. What’ll you have?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine. I would just like to talk to Sarah.”

  They moved into the living room. The seating was set up with the couch facing the smaller love seat. He sat on the love seat and waited for Caleb to sit too.

  “What’s going on Caleb? Why aren’t you getting her? Sarah and I have talked a couple of times since the accident. I’m one of the only cops she’ll talk to. The FBI couldn’t get anything out of her. She trusts me.”

  Caleb nodded. “I know. That’s why I let you in.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This will explain everything.”

  “What do you mean everything? Where’s Sarah?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Parkman asked, shocked. “Gone where?”

  Caleb shrugged his shoulders.

  “Caleb, what are you saying? Her wrist just had the cast removed. She’s not physically ready to be going anywhere. Armond is still out there.”

  “I know. That’s who she’s after.”

  “What? Have you all gone crazy? That guy is a sociopath! He’s a master at this. Sarah can’t do it alone.” Parkman sat back, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head, trying to get the information that just entered it to jumble around and make sense.

  “What have the police ever done for Sarah? Huh? You tell me?” Caleb asked.

  “If it wasn’t for me, Sarah would be dead. I shot Armond.”

  “She told me what happened. I know how she hid the pepper spray. I also know Armond took one shot at her and then ran for some hiding place. I respect that you were on his tail, but seriously, Sarah has always dealt her own cards. Sarah and Vivian can handle this.” Caleb sat back and smiled. “I have faith in my girls.”

  “Caleb. Seriously. You need to let me in on this. The FBI didn’t press any charges, but I can tell you, if Sarah gets out there and people start dying again, they may incarcerate her, not just to keep her safe, but to keep others safe from her.”

  Caleb leaned forward and clasped his hands together on his legs. “Are you threatening me or Sarah?”

  “Come on, Caleb. You know I’m not. But you can’t sanction this.”

  “Already did. She’s gone to ground. No one will find her. Consider her disappeared.”

  Parkman looked away.

  Caleb started talking again. “Vivian was taken from us in a shopping mall. She was raped and murdered. No one found the asshole that did it. It almost tore my family apart. Then Sarah grows up and she begins acting weird. Four years ago she starts writing prophecies and helping people survive where, without her, they wouldn’t have. But the same people who killed Vivian take Sarah and almost kill her. Now, to save us all, she goes after them and again, it almost killed her.” He stopped and looked into Parkman’s eyes. “Vivian and Sarah have a plan. I’ve heard parts of it. I like it. So I backed it.”

  “What do you mean, backed it?”

  “I withdrew enough money yesterday so Sarah could do what she needs to do to find Armond. She’s gone into hiding in case he’s looking for her. She has an idea of where he might be in a few months’ time, but Armond has already met with a plastic surgeon. He’s changed his appearance. That’s why you guys will never find him. Besides, as far as I know, Armond is heading to Europe. That’s a little out of your jurisdiction.”

  Parkman blew the air out of his mouth. This is crazy, this is insane, he thought.

  “Okay, supposing you’re right…”

  “I am right.”

  “Okay, you should know this is going to piss off a lot of people who want to keep close tabs on a girl like Sarah.”

  “We all know that. That’s one of the main reasons she’s doing it this way. And what do we care who we piss off? Excuse my language, but fuck that! I had a daughter who was raped and murdered and the only person doing anything about it is Sarah. And damn it, she almost got the fucker! What are you doing about it? Walking around and asking questions, that’s what.”

  Parkman was stunned. He was sure his face stated that fact.

  “Look, I’m sorry. That’s not fair in light of how you were there at the end of this thing. All I’m trying to say is, you have to play by the rules. Cops have rules. The bad guys don’t. Sarah doesn’t play by the rules. She’s the only chance for justice.”

  Parkman looked down at the paper in his hand. He unfolded it and read the few words Sarah had written for him;

  Don’t try to find me. I’m gone.

  I will call you when I have something. Keep your phone on.

  I want you and only you to get the bust.

  You are the only cop I will trust. Don’t let me down.

  If you don’t hear from me within six months, consider me dead and gone to live with my sister.

  Sarah

  Oh, and, thanks for being there…

  “So that’s it? I’m just supposed to walk away?”

  “Yup. Let it go. Sarah will handle it and contact you, if and when she needs you. Sorry it has to be so brutal, but this is a family matter now.”

  “Fuck!” Parkman said. He pocketed the paper, got up and walked to the foyer. Then he turned around, strode back to Caleb and asked, “Do you have any toothpicks?”

  The Crypt

  An excerpt from The Crypt, Book Three of the Sarah Roberts series.

  Chapter 1

  Sarah Roberts stood on the darkened street in the eighth district of Budapest and waited to be attacked. This was her third time venturing out in the middle of the night in search of a would-be attacker.

  She’d been in Budapest now for over four weeks and her sister Vivian hadn’t said anything since her arrival. All she had was the final note her dead sister made her write telling her that Armond Stuart had fled to Hungary. Sarah had no specific idea where Armond was either.

  At war with herself and out of communication with her parents and the few people she had grown to trust, Sarah felt truly alone.

  It was just after two in the morning. She hoped that the dress would attract the wrong kind of attention. She wasn’t trying to look like a prostitute, just vulnerable. The knee-length dress was decorated with a pretty floral pattern. This was the shortest dress she would ever wear. No miniskirts. Not even for this. Her top wasn’t revealing at all. The red angora sweater gave nothing away. Jeans were her norm, but sacrifices had to be made when one wants to be attacked.

  Weapons were easy to come by: knives could be had at any corner store; forks were nice to jab into an opponent’s skin or eye; but a gun was what Sarah needed. She had trained with them over the last four years at various firing ranges. She had done well a few months back staying alive while dealing with Armond.

  Now it was all about hunting him down and killing him.

  That was it.

  Cold blooded murder.

  Armond Stuart had raped and killed her sister Vivian when Sarah was still a child. Since then he had developed a kidnapping ring and a human trafficking business that spanned the world. How many girls had been harmed, and how brutal that harm had been, Sarah could only wonder.

  Killing Armond i
n cold blood was the only answer.

  That was what started the internal war she had with her conscience. How could she just walk up and shoot him in the face? That’s not what she was about. Sarah was about helping others. She began saving people almost five years ago. In that time she couldn’t count how many had walked away from death or worse.

  Breaking up Armond’s organization in America a few months back had set many young girls free. What Armond had done was unacceptable. He had to be stopped. A man like that cannot be rehabilitated. Death is the only way.

  Yet she didn’t know if she could do it. When the time came, would she pull the trigger? Or did she have to wait until she caught him in a compromising situation to justify the kill?

  And why wasn’t Vivian giving her any messages? The last one was in the States. Was it because she was overseas?

  Sarah shook her head at that notion. No way. Couldn’t be. Vivian’s dead. She’s on the Other Side. My sister can travel wherever she wants to be with me.

  A soft scuffling sound interrupted her thoughts. She looked around but couldn’t see anything or anyone close. She leaned back against the wall where she’d loitered for the past hour.

  Why had there been no communication? Could it be because in the States when Vivian gave her direction it was more about saving those girls while here it’s all about killing Armond? Is that it? If she’s just hunting the man then she’s no better than a mercenary or an assassin hired to execute another? Would Vivian sanction that? Or were there others involved on the Other Side, directing Vivian now?

  Sarah looked up at the dark summer sky and asked out loud, “After all the evil Armond has done, isn’t this still righteous? How come it was okay to kill him while he was in the act of harming someone but now when walking through the park it isn’t?”

  She had come to Hungary because of Vivian. She took the money from her father for the ticket. He believed in her. And now, after a month, she was no further ahead despite taking a crash course in Hungarian, which seemed to be the hardest language in the world to understand. At least they had North American restaurants and the hotels were quite similar.

  But that introduced another problem. She could be found here. In the States she could use motels that took cash. Here she had to use her credit card and show her passport routinely. Anyone who wanted to find her, could. She felt too exposed. Maybe Armond was watching her right now while she hunted him.

  How crazy my life has become.

  Sarah stepped out of the shadows and edged closer to the street. Online she had read that the eighth district was the most dangerous part of Budapest. She was sadly disappointed. Nothing at all had happened each of the nights she had come here looking to be mugged or attacked.

  She brought no weapons of any kind. Her hands were fast enough. She had learned a few pressure points on the human body to know exactly where to touch a two hundred pound man. With her thumb alone she could have a man on the ground choking on his collapsed trachea after having applied the proper pressure.

  Yet no one challenged her.

  Nearing the street Sarah saw a little Lada Sputnik go by. She watched its taillights disappear down the road, leaving her alone again.

  She started the quiet walk back to the Best Western hotel. The stupid heels she wore were getting caught on the uneven pavement and making her stumble. She stopped, reached down and took them both off. Barefoot, she continued walking the empty streets of Budapest.

  What about saving people?

  Why wouldn’t Vivian send her something so that she could do a few tasks, something to make her feel useful? After all, she was an Automatic Writer. Her sister had been using this talent for many years, saving so many people…and then as soon as she landed in Budapest the well went dry.

  Something had changed. It was different now. Maybe the rules on the Other Side had been altered? There was no way for Sarah to know. She would just have to wait. Eventually Vivian would use her again. She’d make contact or Sarah would be forced to fly back to the States. What a waste of time this trip would be if she ended up at home having accomplished nothing.

  She turned a corner and slowed up. Three men were whispering to each other on the opposite side of the street. They stood in the shadows under an awning.

  Could this be a waste of time? Would any of them have a weapon?

  She continued walking. But this time she acted afraid that they might see her. She stayed on her side of the street and even added a little skip in her step. As she passed the three men they turned as one and began walking on their side of the street.

  Got their attention. Good.

  She kept going, walking so fast now that she was almost doing a slow jog. Up ahead she saw a busier street. It had to be around three in the morning and yet every few seconds another car would pass by.

  With the aid of a window in the side of the building she was passing Sarah could see the threesome were crossing the street behind her. They were closing the distance quickly, hoping to stop her before she got to the busier intersection.

  Something else caught her eye. A man was leaning against a light post across the street. From the reflection in the window it appeared he was watching her.

  She spun around and stared at him. She couldn’t see his face in the dark. He wore a hat with a small brim. After a moment of staring at each other he lowered his head a little and raised his right hand to tip the corner of his hat.

  The three men were almost upon her now. She had to move.

  One thing she really hated was being followed. By now she would normally have turned around and allowed them the chance to run, but she needed them close.

  “Hey baby,” one of them yelled.

  She turned to look at them. They were about ten feet behind her. Two of them were of a darker skin color.

  Gypsies.

  She’d been warned about them. These gypsies were getting a bad name for themselves in Hungary. There was a small group of men who hunted gypsies. They committed horrible crimes, even killing gypsies. All that perpetuated was more violence and then they got themselves arrested. Who was better with that rationale?

  Sarah faced the trio as she started to walk backwards. The busier street was just over a block away now. Even if she ran, they’d catch her.

  The time had come.

  “Do any of you three speak English?”

  The white guy in the middle nodded and smiled. “I speak fluent British English. My two friends here don’t but they can basically understand you. Now tell us, what would you be doing in a neighborhood like this, dressed like that? Are you for hire?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Oh, a feisty bitch. I like that.”

  She was still walking backwards. She looked for the man in the hat who had been leaning on the light post but he had disappeared. A quick look over her shoulder revealed a drop off in the sidewalk coming. Sarah hopped over a little to her right and used the street. In that second the trio moved as one to close the gap even more. Now they were four feet from her.

  “You wanna have some fun with us?”

  “Sure, but not tonight. Maybe some other time. Leave me your number. Maybe I’ll call.”

  “No. You don’t come down here dressed like that and expect us not to notice. You came looking for some action. We’ve seen you around a couple nights in a row. What else would you be here for if you’re not hooking?”

  Even though she knew he was right because she knew how men thought, dressing the way she did was never an open invitation. That was the part of men she hated.

  “Hey, asshole. No still means no. It doesn’t matter how a girl dresses.”

  One of the gypsies smirked.

  “Do that again and I will break your fucking nose,” Sarah said.

  The gypsy turned to the leader. It was evident to Sarah that the guy in the middle who’d been doing all the talking was the one they looked up to.

  She held both her shoes in her left hand. Without looking down she adjusted the heel
of one of the shoes to angle outward and the strap of the other to dangle loosely off her last two fingers.

  She had stepped back a few more times. One fast look over her shoulder told her they were running out of time if these boys wanted to dance without being seen by the numerous drivers racing by. Maybe fifteen feet separated her from the sidewalk of the busy street.

  She stared at the leader. He was smiling like he knew they had her. He looked confident and filled with attitude. He had to play the part for his boys. She’d seen this all too often.