The Sound

by James Sperl

  She turned toward Valentina in anticipation of similar compliments, but Valentina only stuck out her bottom lip and nodded reluctantly.

  Clarissa escorted Rachel over to a couch positioned in front of a massive stone fireplace and sat her down.

  “Seriously. This place is amazing.”

  “Thank you,” he said. He crossed to the kitchen, got out four glasses, and set them on the counter.

  “It’s nice,” Valentina said tersely. “Where do you keep your torture room?”

  “Downstairs. But it's being painted.”

  Valentina’s eyes bulged. Clarissa exploded with laughter.

  “Jesus, Val,” she said, walking over to the fireplace. “He’s kidding!”

  Valentina’s wide eyes shot from Andrew to Clarissa and back.

  “Sorry,” Andrew said. “Too soon for jokes, I guess.” He pointed down a hallway off the kitchen. “There’s a bathroom through there on the right, if anyone needs it. Please, everyone, make yourselves at home.”

  “I guess we should take your advice,” Valentina sneered. “Since, according to you, this is our home now.”

  Clarissa, who had just picked up a framed photo off the mantel, looked over at Valentina.

  “Come on, Val, don’t be like that. We said we were going to listen to what he had to say, remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Andrew filled the glasses with ice and tap water.

  “And I’m a man of my word. If you still want to go back to town after you’ve heard what I have to say, I’ll take you.”

  “No one’s doubting your sincerity, Andrew.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Valentina snarked.

  Clarissa leveled her eyes at Valentina then turned her attention to the picture in her hand. It was of a younger Andrew. He leaned over a naturally pretty young woman sitting on a tire swing. Both smiled, the photo seemingly taken years ago, before Andrew’s hair would lose some of its fullness and gain some of its grayness. Clarissa zeroed in on the woman. She was rather fetching and radiated infectious joy. It was strange to think there had been someone in Andrew’s life, someone with whom he had shared hearth and home and who had made him smile. Clarissa felt a pang of sorrow when she realized that, in looking at the photograph, it was the first time she had ever seen Andrew express genuine happiness. Equally sad was the fact that this woman was clearly no longer around. Andrew had a story, and it didn’t have a good ending. Now, however, was not the time to ask about it. She set the frame back on the mantel.

  Andrew motioned to the glasses on the counter. “Please, help yourselves to some water,” he said, passing Clarissa on his way to the living room. “I’m sorry I don’t have more to offer you at the moment. I wasn’t expecting to have company.”

  “What a coincidence,” Valentina said. “We weren’t expecting to get abducted.”

  “Val!” Clarissa snapped. “Seriously. Enough.”

  Valentina rolled her eyes then helped herself to a glass.

  “I’m sorry, Andrew,” Clarissa said, as she took two of the glasses and headed over to the couch. “Val can be a bit crass sometimes.” She set one down in front of Rachel.

  Andrew moved to the fireplace. “It’s all right. Honestly, I think she’s handling it better than most people would in this situation.” He picked up the same photograph Clarissa had just set down. “Is anyone hungry? Can I make you all something?”

  Clarissa eyed Andrew curiously before shaking her head. She looked over at Valentina, who didn’t acknowledge his offer.

  “No,” she said. “I think we’re all fine for now.”

  “Okay.” He looked at the photo for a moment then placed it back on the mantel. He set it down much farther forward on the ledge than where Clarissa had returned it. Happy with its position, he turned and faced the room. “Then won’t you all come with me?”

  CHAPTER 16

  Valentina wrinkled her face. “What's all this?”

  “It’s my shack,” Andrew said, stepping into a cozy little office space. A comfortable chair sat in front of a sprawling desk, above which rested an assortment of electrical components and monitors arranged on two long, sturdy shelves.

  “It looks like an airplane cockpit,” Clarissa said.

  Andrew bobbed his head and grinned. “I suppose it does.”

  Valentina snarled a lip. “What’s it all for?”

  “For talking to people around the world,” replied Andrew. “It’s my ham radio rig.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of those,” said Clarissa, stepping into the room. “I’d no idea it was so involved.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, I guess,” Andrew said. “All you need are the basic elements: antenna, microphone, power supply, transceiver, antenna rotators, and switchers. But some people like to take it to the next level and incorporate isolators and downward expanders to clean up signals, maybe some audio filters and compressors too.”

  “Yeah,” Valentina said. “I have no idea what you just said.”

  Andrew chuckled. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

  Clarissa pointed to a pair of seventeen-inch monitors mounted to the left and right of the desk’s center. “And those? What do you need them for?”

  “It seems excessive, I know, but I use them more than I thought I would. Both connect to my computer, so I can pull up the Web or productivity software when I want to, but I find that I use the one on the left primarily to mirror the LCD on my transceiver, so I’m not constantly hunching over to look at it. The eyes aren’t what they used to be. The other I use to monitor my log and record signals I’ve found, people I’ve talked to. I find that I rather like having that info up and handy.”

  “It looks complicated.”

  “There was a bit of a learning curve when I got started to be sure. I eased into all of this when I got my Technician class license, but after awhile I realized I wanted to learn more, so I stepped it up and got a General class license. That’s about the time I started adding more gear, eventually ending up with what you see before you.”

  “Okay,” Valentina said, growing impatient. “We get it. You’ve got a lot of equipment. Great. Why are you showing it to us? What’s it got to do with what you’re going to tell us?”

  Clarissa shot Valentina a look. Valentina pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

  “I’m showing you this,” Andrew began, “because I wanted you to see how I came about my information. Do either of you know what a ham radio does?”

  “It lets you talk to people, right?” Clarissa said. “Like, from all over the world.”

  “That’s exactly what it does. Ham radio allows amateur enthusiasts to utilize certain frequencies and bandwidths for the purpose of communicating with other folks around the globe. Most people do it strictly as a hobby. But there are others out there who use it as a tool to get a, uh…more accurate account of things.

  Clarissa’s face went slack. She stepped farther into the office.

  “You heard something about the Sound from someone on your radio. Something that doesn’t jibe with what we’re being told.”

  “Yes. But not just from someone,” Andrew corrected. “Lots of someones. And what they’re saying is not only in conflict with what we’re being told, it's running counter to what the entire world is being led to believe.”

  Valentina stepped into the room and took Clarissa’s arm.

  “Now understand, I’m not claiming that world governments are intentionally deceiving us. There may not be enough evidence yet for them or the media to come out publicly and report this, but if what I’m about to tell you is true, it’s a game changer in every sense of the word. If it’s true, hopefully, you’ll understand why I think it’s in all of our best interests that you stay.”

  Clarissa swallowed and placed her hand over Valentina’s. “What are you hearing, Andrew?”

  Andrew spun the chair around and sat down. “At first, lots of things. There was a ton of chatter. Government conspiracy plots, alien invasion the
ories. Some even trotted out ideas as far-reaching as colliding timelines or interdimensional shifts.”

  Clarissa and Valentina scowled.

  “I know. I thought the same thing. But one theory’s been consistent, particularly since the leaders of the world and the scientific community acknowledged that being alone seems to be a prime factor in a disappearance. It’s something I’ve heard since the beginning, but it’s been getting even more radio play as of late. It’s what I’ve brought you here to tell you.”

  Clarissa’s eyes bulged in anticipation; Valentina’s grip tightened on her arm.

  Andrew inhaled and scooted forward in his seat.

  “Last night, when the mayor told everyone that being alone seemed to be the time when people disappeared, he was right. And the ninetieth percentile statistics he cited for the missing in cities around the world appear to be accurate. People are in fact disappearing when they are alone. But he was only half right.”

  Clarissa swallowed. “What’s the other half?”

  Andrew looked intently at each woman.

  “They’re disappearing in their sleep.”

  “What?”

  Valentina recoiled. “So, what, we can’t sleep now, or we’ll vanish?”

  “No, no,” Andrew said, rising. “That’s not it. I’ve talked to people from all over the globe. From major cities to Podunk little towns in countries you’ve forgotten about. All are reporting the same thing. It’s not just sleeping. It’s sleeping alone, or at least outside the presence of someone else.”

  “That’s stupid,” Valentina scoffed. “How would whatever’s taking people know when a person's asleep? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  A light went off in Clarissa’s mind. “But it does,” she said, turning to her friend. “Think about it. That’s why no one’s ever seen a person disappear right in front of their eyes. Because it’s happening when a person is asleep and alone. That’s how someone can vanish from a room in a home even though a family member may be one room away.”

  “Exactly,” Andrew said. “It’s the very reason that first theory never held water for me. Some folks are alone most of the time, but they haven’t disappeared. Take me for instance. I’m out here by myself, but I’m still here.”

  “That's right,” Valentina interjected. “Which means your theory’s got holes in it.”

  “How so?”

  “You sleep alone, right?”

  Andrew hesitated before he answered, “Yes.”

  “So then why haven’t you vanished? If your theory's right, you should be gone.”

  Andrew nodded ahead of his response. “Believe me, I have given this considerable thought. You’re right. If the theory is correct, then by all rationale, I shouldn’t be here talking to you right now. I think the only reason I haven’t disappeared is due to something that’s not very scientific, I’m afraid.”

  Clarissa cocked her head. “Which is?”

  “Luck.”

  “Luck?”

  “I think so. I think that whatever’s going on is so random we’ll never know the rhyme or reason behind it.”

  “I don’t know, Andrew,” Clarissa said. “That sounds like a stretch.”

  “Maybe. But don’t you live alone?”

  Clarissa’s blood went cold.

  “And you?” he said to Valentina, who shrank away from his words. “You two may have gotten wise and joined forces now, but I’d be willing to wager that in the days after the first Sound event—by all accounts the moment when the disappearances began—you were both probably still sleeping solo. Why didn’t either of you disappear when others clearly did?”

  Clarissa tried to think about what Andrew was telling her, but the idea was just too frightening for her mind to consider.

  “Think about Pastora,” he went on. “As of this morning, nearly fifty people have been reported missing from it, and it’s a town of over 15,000. Now, fifty people is no small number when it comes to the unaccounted, but there are certainly more than fifty people who tuck themselves in alone every night. Why haven’t they disappeared?” Andrew walked over to a narrow window beside his desk and peered outside. “I think it’s got to do with chance. Luck. Whatever you want to call it. I think there’s some random process of selection that we don’t understand yet. Like a giant raffle or something.”

  “Okay,” said Clarissa. She struggled to wrap her head around what Andrew was telling her. “So where does that leave us?”

  “This is the part where we can help each other out. Whatever’s going on out there, whatever otherworldly…shit has decided to muck with our lives, I believe it can be prevented—as long as we do what’s necessary.”

  “What’re you suggesting?” Valentina said. “That we sleep in shifts and take turns watching over each other or something?”

  “Yes.”

  Valentina pulled her arm away from Clarissa and flung it disapprovingly. “Oh, hell with this,” she said. “I’m going to check on Rachel.”

  “Val, wait,” Clarissa said, reaching for her.

  “Wait for what? This? This is crazy. You hear me? Fucking. Crazy. If you think for a minute I’m going to have some strange dude who lives alone in the woods watch over me while I sleep, Clarissa, you’re crazier than the horseshit he’s spewing.”

  “But what if he’s right?” Clarissa said, her words stopping Valentina in the doorway. “What if everything he’s saying—as insane and nonsensical as it sounds—is exactly the way it is? We’re in uncharted waters here, Val. Everyone is scrambling to make sense of what’s going on. If we discover something that could potentially help us, why wouldn’t we do it? One thing we know for sure is that people are still disappearing. And even though the number of missing has slowed, it hasn’t stopped. Why wouldn’t we try everything we could to stay safe?”

  “She’s right, Valentina,” Andrew began. “And what I’m suggesting wouldn’t have to be anything that’d make you uncomfortable. I get that you’d rather not be here. Truth be told, I’d rather you weren’t here either. I prefer my independence, and inviting a group of young women to bunk with me isn’t high on my bucket list. But we are where we are. As for you, you could take shifts with your friends. I wouldn’t have to be anywhere near you if it put you more at ease.”

  “But why do we need you at all!” Valentina screamed. “If what you’re saying is true, then we could get by without you! We could watch over ourselves!” Valentina turned her tear-filled eyes to Clarissa. “Don't you see what he’s doing, Clarissa? Do you really not see that this is a passive kidnapping?”

  Tears raced down Valentina’s cheeks. Clarissa moved to her and held her. Rachel had shut down, and now Valentina was on the verge of an emotional collapse. Of the three of them, Clarissa had long thought Valentina to be the strongest emotionally, but the impossible situation and disorienting reality had worn her down. Clarissa hugged her friend in silent support. Nothing more could be said to convince her. But Andrew still tried.

  “Look, Valentina. I know you’re scared. You don’t know me. You don’t know why I’ve chosen to lock myself away in the woods up here, away from everybody. I can only imagine how I must seem to you. But I’m sincere when I tell you that I think it would be the best for all of us if you remained. Does it benefit me to have you here? Will I rest easier knowing somebody's watching over me? Of course. I can’t and won’t lie about that. But you’re a friend of Clarissa’s, and she…well…”

  Clarissa twitched at the mention of her name.

  “Let’s just say that kindness is a valuable commodity that goes a long way, especially in a world so woefully depleted of it.” Andrew walked over and stood in front of Valentina. “No one knows for sure what’s happening, but the one thing we do know is that people are scared. And the byproduct of that sort of fear is always self-preservation, usually at the cost of others.”

  Andrew stepped past the women into the hallway.

  “There is one more thing I’d like to show you. If after you see it, you
’re still not convinced to stay, I’ll take you home immediately. No questions.”

  Clarissa found Valentina’s waterlogged eyes and searched them until she got the faintest nod. She looked at Andrew.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” Andrew said. “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Clarissa and Valentina collected Rachel. If Andrew was going to reveal something tantalizing to sway their decision, then their broken down friend needed to see it too, regardless of her state.

  They followed Andrew out of the “shack.” He stopped just outside the door and reached for the knob to a different door not three feet away and pulled it open.

  The girls peered inside and froze.

  A set of stairs descended into blackness, at least until Andrew snapped on a light, which illuminated not only the stairwell but also the floor where it led.

  Andrew looked at each woman and read her apprehension.

  “You ladies know I was kidding about the torture room, right?”

  “Of course, Andrew,” Clarissa said, though she suddenly wasn’t so convinced.

  Andrew started down the stairs. The women reluctantly followed, Valentina and Clarissa each taking one of Rachel’s arms to assist her.

  Clarissa didn’t know what she expected to find at the bottom, but it certainly wasn’t what she saw. Most basements she had ever seen were unfinished clutter rooms, spaces where folks piled the things they couldn’t find a place for on the main floors. Andrew’s basement was the exact opposite of those.

  Straight ahead and to the right were a laundry/washroom and a full bathroom, both of which employed a rustic-themed motif. Lightly stained wood paneling covered the walls, and the fixtures and cabinetry for both rooms appeared authentic and gave them a ranch house charm. On the left side of the basement was a surprisingly well-appointed mini library complete with reading area. Uniquely fashioned bookshelves, which ran floor to ceiling, covered two entire walls. In the space adjacent to them sat a settee of modern design and an overstuffed reading chair, both of which Andrew positioned under a wash of warm recessed light. A trio of beautiful darkly stained tables—two ends and one small coffee—rounded out the space. It was, Clarissa thought, rather lovely.