The Real Michael Swann

by Bryan Reardon

  “Michael,” she said, her voice weak from the epidural.

  “I’m here,” he whispered.

  She opened her eyes and looked up. His face hovered above hers. She felt his hand gently stroke the hair from her forehead.

  “Is he okay?” she whispered.

  His smile pushed away her fear, the pain, everything. It called his happiness out to the world. It embraced her, protected her, and let her know that their baby was more than fine. He was perfect, and loved, always.

  “He’s awesome,” Michael said.

  Julia barely heard a conversation about her incision and the minimal scar it would leave. For as the doctor spoke to her, a nurse spoke to Michael.

  “Do you want to hold him?”

  Michael paused, looking at her. The C-section had not been planned. Evan had been a natural birth. Immediately after the birth, they had put him on her bare skin. It was like his pink little fingers had reached in and held her soul. They were one from that moment on. No matter what.

  Her husband paused because it wouldn’t be that way with Thomas. She could not hold him yet. And with his eyes, Michael was asking if it was okay. Could he do it? Should he do it? And she had never loved him more than that moment.

  With barely a nod and a smile that could never match his, Julia gave him that gift. He turned, and the nurse put Thomas in his arms. The screaming stopped, and four wide-open eyes looked down at her. And she cried that day, but those tears were so different from the ones that owned her as she raced toward the ocean.

  6

  I was shaking when I got out of the car. I couldn’t put the phone down. I couldn’t stop looking at the screen. It was like a lifeline, keeping me awake and alive. In that moment, her words felt like the only reality. Like everything else was a dream. But Julia was real. She was everything.

  Off in the distance, I heard silence. I moved toward the tree line. The pressure surrounded me. Even then, I could feel it. But I couldn’t turn off the screen. I knew the light might draw them to me, but I just couldn’t.

  The ground under my feet grew softer, damper, as I moved toward the forest. It smelled of evergreen the closer I came to the trees. But every few steps, a hint of sulfur touched the air, swampy and humid.

  I could still hear the sirens. They moved closer and closer, it seemed. At the same time, the low thumping of a helicopter caught my ear. I looked up and saw dim lights flashing in the distance. Then I stepped into the woods, into the darkness. And disappeared.

  7

  Why doesn’t he text back?

  The question gnawed at Julia as she raced eastward. She was sure that he read them. Why would he not answer? It made no sense.

  As that thought rolled through her mind for the millionth time, her phone rang. Julia’s heart missed a beat. She hit the answer button on her steering wheel before the caller ID could appear on her dash display screen.

  “Michael?”

  “It’s me,” her mother said. “Where are you?”

  “In Jersey, heading toward Atlantic City. Are the kids okay?”

  “Yes,” her mom said. “But they know you’re gone.”

  “The kids?”

  “No, the police. That weird agent guy was here. Looking for you. I told him I didn’t know anything. He threatened me. Can you believe that? Said if I lied—”

  “The Middle Eastern one?”

  “No, that quiet one. He—”

  Julia interrupted, her voice shrill. “Don’t worry about it. It won’t matter. I’ll find him and it just won’t matter.”

  “Maybe this is a bad idea,” her mother said, tentatively.

  “No, Mom. I have to.”

  “But . . . the kids. You can’t let anything happen to you.”

  Her palm slammed the steering wheel. “I can’t let anything happen to Michael.”

  “But . . .”

  “No,” Julia snapped. “I won’t. Tell the boys I love them . . . And I’ll be home soon.”

  She hung up.

  8

  I walked in the darkness among the trees. Everything around me felt old, timeless, like it had existed before us and would long after we were all forgotten. And the silence. It clung like the damp briny air, feeling heavy and foreign. The ground beneath my feet felt soft, almost like sand. But I pushed on, deeper and deeper. Further away from everything.

  Every few minutes, I would check the phone. Nothing new would be there, so I would reread the others over and over again. She was coming to me. She was getting nearer every moment.

  I heard the first creek before I came upon it. The soft rumble of water over rocks echoed through the night until the forest floor dropped off ahead of me. I stopped on the bank, looking down at the stream as it moved without thought, ever forward. I understood that. I was that. And it held me for a minute, entranced.

  Then the thump of the helicopter rose above the babble of water. It got louder, quickly. As it neared, I heard the sirens, too. It sounded as if they surrounded me. But that might have been a trick of the forest, the high-pitched wail bouncing through the trunks like a pinball.

  I jumped down, my feet splashing in the water. And I climbed up the far side. Ever forward. Like the water.

  9

  Julia’s phone rang again, just as she passed a sign for Williamstown Township. Thinking it was her mother, she almost didn’t answer. But it could have been about her boys, so she hit the button.

  “Yes,” she said, coolly.

  “Mrs. Swann?”

  The voice grabbed her. She instantly felt sick to her stomach. It was Agent Bakhash.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “I understand,” he said, softly. Not, she thought, out of caring, but out of calculation.

  Her rage burst out in words. “What do you understand?”

  “What you’re trying to do? I really do. But you’re putting yourself in danger. You know that, right?”

  She said nothing.

  “Mrs. Swann? You understand that you are putting yourself in danger, right?”

  “I need to do something. I can’t let you hurt him.”

  “It doesn’t have to come to that,” he said. “He could give himself up. You could tell him to do that.”

  “I can’t tell him anything. I don’t even know where he is.”

  “Are you saying you haven’t talked to him?”

  “No, I haven’t.” She shook with a mixture of anger and stress and fear. “Have you? Has anyone?”

  “No, we haven’t. But I need to hear you say it, Mrs. Swann. You understand, right. That you are putting yourself in serious jeopardy by your course of action.”

  “I don’t care,” she said, loudly.

  “But you understand?”

  “Yes! Jesus! Yes, I understand. And I understand that you all want him dead for what you think he did. Everyone does. The whole goddamn country does. So I just don’t fucking care.”

  Bakhash paused. The silence crackled between them, like it might suddenly burst into flame. Julia, overwhelmed but out of tears, looked through her windshield. She saw the sign just as Bakhash said the words.

  “We found the car just outside the Pine Barrens. We think he’s on foot now.”

  Julia never once thought about why he might be telling her that. Why he would help her. She simply hung up and accelerated.

  After a mile, she glanced at her phone, sitting on the passenger seat. The police had found his car. They had to be so close to finding him. She had to try.

  With a quick snatch, she grabbed it off the seat and dialed Michael’s number.

  10

  The helicopter was almost on top of me. Somehow, I knew it would find me. That they would have an infrared camera. Once I was on their screen, my shadow would glow like the sun. They would be on me in seconds. And I couldn’t let that happen.


  I think it was instinct. Or maybe it was some deep, buried memory that was there, but just out of reach for me to really recall it. Whatever it was, I turned and broke into a run. Not fifty yards back, I had crossed another stream, this one bigger and deeper. As I neared it, I looked up. I saw light among the trunks, not far away. It flashed and moved, and the thumping sound grew louder and louder.

  I reached the stream and carefully placed the phone and the case on the ground. Then I jumped from the bank, landing a few feet into the water. Quickly, I waded out until the depth reached my waist. The light was almost on me. I could see the helicopter through the thick patches of needles above and to the west. So I held my breath and dove. The cold water swallowed me, but I could only hope it was cold enough.

  It was an effort, but I clung to the rocky bottom and forced my body to stay under. I swear the spotlight passed directly over me. The water seemed to pulse in time with the whirling blades. Then the sound faded. The light disappeared. I stood, gasping in air.

  That’s when I heard the phone ringing. Lurching up out of the water, I tried to high-step to the bank. A wet rock gave way beneath my foot. As my ankle twisted, I lost balance, falling back into the water. By the time I finally crawled out onto the grassy bank, the ringing had stopped.

  My hand hovered over the phone before I picked it up. When I did, I saw the prompt.

  Julia

  Missed Call

  I stared at it for only a second, knowing that I had to move. With the phone still in my hand, I continued deeper into the forest, a single thought in my head.

  She has to find me first. Julia has to find me first.

  11

  Julia only drove a few miles down County Route 542 before she saw the blockade. Slowly, she pulled to the side of the road and stared as officers dragged a long orange barrier across the road. Police cars sat before it and beyond, and as she watched, a large black van passed her.

  Even with the engine running, she could hear the helicopters. Leaning forward for a better look, she saw three darting across the night sky, spotlights shining down onto what she thought must be the Pine Barrens.

  Julia had no idea what to do. She needed to keep going. To find him.

  A tap on the window startled her. She turned to see an officer standing outside the car. He motioned for her to lower her window, which she did, slowly.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Just trying to get home,” she said.

  “I can’t let you pass. You can—”

  “Okay, thanks,” she said.

  Without rolling the window up, she let go of her brake and rolled slowly past the man. Her hands shaking, she made a three-point turn that felt like it took hours. She tried not to screech her tires as she sped away.

  Julia was so concerned that they’d stop her that she never once looked in the mirror. If she had, she might have seen the black sedan follow her back the way she came.

  * * *

  —

  Julia wasn’t even sure she was out of the officer’s sight when she reached the intersection. A narrow road made a sharp left. Without a thought, she killed her lights and took it. Speeding up, she went maybe a quarter of a mile and stopped, careful to take her foot off the brake once the car stopped so the taillights wouldn’t give her away.

  Im close, she texted.

  Julia stared at the screen, once again waiting for those three dots. Knowing they would not appear. Since she tried to call Michael and there was no answer, she had lost hope that he was even seeing the messages. Yet she sent one, nonetheless, for there was simply nothing else she could do.

  Shaking her head, she opened Google Maps. Using the arrow, she found her location. Immediately, she noticed the road she had just turned onto crossed a road that could take her back to 542 and maybe in behind the blockade. She had to try.

  Putting the car in drive, she followed her map, turning onto a narrow road. Out her window, she saw moonlight sparkling off the ripples of a pond. To her right, the tall trees of the Pine Barrens rose up toward the stars. She saw a small brick building up ahead. Oddly, a bright light shined behind it, casting the pump house in an otherworldly glow.

  Julia squinted. In the shadow cast by the building, she saw a car. As she got closer, light reflected off blue and red lights atop the hood. Her breath caught, but she kept moving forward. When the door opened and an officer stepped out, she knew it was over. Julia knew she had failed.

  12

  The memories hit like an endless avalanche. They rolled over her with crushing weight and bitter longing. One after another, they struck. She saw his face, with his long chin and wide cheekbones. His red-blond hair and blue eyes. The stubble of a Sunday morning. The strength, the love, the passion.

  They came in snippets, almost meaningless snapshots of her life with him. Michael sitting low on a beach chair, gazing off into the Atlantic as dolphins moved along with the endless horizon. Walking up the ramp at the baseball stadium, a boy’s hand in each of his, Thomas’s Phillies hat on backwards. His silhouette on a dark winter morning as he crept through their room, dressing for work, so careful not to make a sound and wake her. Opening her eyes to find him looking into hers as they kissed.

  Like a ghost, he came to her. They stood facing each other. Gray fog clung to their legs as he reached out and lightly touched her hand. The contact sent a crackle of energy running up her arm and into her body. She reached out to him, cupped his face, and smiled as the stubble tickled her skin.

  “I’m coming,” she whispered.

  * * *

  —

  She opened her eyes and realized the car had stopped. The police officer stood by the side of the road. Although the lighting was dim, she thought he looked directly at her. But he did not move. And for a second, she didn’t, either, other than the shaking. Her head reeled from whatever had just happened, whatever journey had taken her out of that moment. Whatever it was, it sparked something in her. Her eyes narrowed. Slowly, her foot lowered onto the gas pedal again and she started to drive.

  The officer did not move. He only watched. Julia gained speed. Fifty yards away from him, she ground her teeth together. The pedal hit the floorboard and the car lurched forward. She stared at the man in the dark uniform, daring him to stop her. Daring him to try. Yet he did not move. He only watched.

  In a flash, she was past. Julia didn’t slow. Speeding down the narrow road, she almost missed the T-intersection. Her tires screamed as she cut right. Then she was off again, heading for the rising forest ahead. Heading for her husband.

  13

  The spotlight shined down on her car. Julia hissed like a feral animal, caged and left with no option but to strike out. When a one-lane road appeared, she turned onto it and sped up. The helicopter followed above her.

  “Stop!” she screamed.

  It had appeared not a minute after she passed the officer on the road. And no matter how hard she tried, she could not shake it.

  “Leave me alone!”

  Her car continued to speed up. It rattled and shook like the wheels might rip from their axles. Yet the helicopter followed, the sound of its propellers driving her mad.

  “Reports on the ground in New Jersey confirm that the search area for Michael Swann is tightening. At this time, the suspect is believed to be on foot in the Pine Barrens, a one-million-acre forest near the coast of New Jersey. It is believed that all access into the area is blockaded and, once again, authorities are asking that people stay in their homes.”

  Reality hit her then. The car slowed. Julia’s muscles went slack. She realized that she could not even touch a happy ending. The presence of the helicopter. The sirens in the background. The soft baying of dogs she heard through the closed windows of her car. It all painted a grim picture, a visceral reminder of the truth. Michael was gone to her.

  For the first time, she pict
ured their reunion. The first instant that she saw him. Running to him, launching herself into him. All the pain, all the loss, would vanish as they held each other. But then what?

  That question was the final straw. Then what? Her foot came off the accelerator. The car slowed and eventually stopped. Her head lowered, resting on the steering wheel. And then what?

  There was no escape. Every way out of that place was blocked. But that didn’t even matter. This was no action movie. She and Michael couldn’t win their way loose of this stranglehold, run off into the setting sun, live on some beautiful island, millions of dollars stashed in an offshore account. Even if that sort of thing happened, it wouldn’t matter. This was her life, not someone’s made-up story.

  Evan and Thomas waited at home with her mother. No matter what, she couldn’t leave them. She’d never do that. Now she also knew that Michael could never return to her. She pictured a new future, one where the boys drove to some awful prison one Sunday a month to talk to their father through shatterproof glass. Or worse. Julia’s mind almost took her to that unfathomable place, seeing her Michael strapped to a table, an IV drip . . .

  “God,” she moaned. “Please.”

  The sound of the helicopter pounded in her ear. It was so close that her car shook. The spotlight burned her eyes, sending a shock wave from temple to temple. Julia pressed her palms into her eyes, hard.

  “NO!!!” she screamed.

  It was over. There was no hope. There was no way to win, no peace. All she did was lead the helicopter to him. She was powerless, helpless, at the mercy of a world that would have no mercy for her husband.