The Mind’s Eye

by Perry Prete

  *****

  Carl slept at his desk as he had done many times. Still seated, his head resting on nested arms, a small amount of drool dripped to the blotter. His right leg cramped, twitched, sending his chair rolling backwards. He slowly slipped off the edge of the desk, waking him just as he was about to fall to the floor. He stretched, felt the muscle cramps in his back, yawned loudly then looked around. The entire room was dark, no sound, nobody around to make any noise. He coiled his arms under his head, as he was closing his eyes, he noticed some scribbling across his story he had written earlier.

  He pulled the paper from the top of the pile, turned it sideways so he could read it with his head still resting on his one arm. Carl read it, sat upright, shocked at what was on the paper. Standing, he knew who he was looking for but saw no one. He waited, hoping someone would stir, make a noise, but nothing happened.

  Carl stuffed the paper into his pocket, grabbed his suit jacket and raced to his car.

  Sam watched Carl leave from the far corner of the room, hiding behind a bank of unused filing cabinets. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach and immediately regretted giving Carl that information and knew it would be the last time he would see him.

  *****

  A low dense mist hung across the country road as Carl checked his phone for directions. He wasn't familiar with the road or this area outside of town. The mist left a small amount of moisture on the asphalt that glistened under the glare of the car's headlights. The moonlight barely broke through the young leaves on the trees and offered little help to brighten the area. The roads were tree-lined, almost to the edge of the pavement. His eyes seldom left the base of the trees, he was concerned a raccoon, or a deer would jump out at any time.

  Raising his phone to eye level, he checked his location in relation to the destination. The arrow indicated his direction; he was only a few miles from where he wanted to be. His eyes never left the road as he let the phone fall to the passenger seat.

  A chill went through him as he drove along the road. He knew it wouldn't be long before he arrived at the address. Up ahead, the road went into a slow meandering curve that disappeared beyond the trees. He slowed the car, followed the bend until it was straight again. Carl could see a break in the tree line along the right side, he slowed, picked up his phone and saw that this was the driveway he was looking for.

  He turned off his headlights, hoping the moon would illuminate enough of the road to help him make his way to the house undetected. Carl was wrong; the overhead growth canopy was so thick; the moonlight couldn't penetrate to help guide him. He pulled his car to the side of the driveway, put the car in park and killed the engine.

  He pocketed the phone and exited the car. He gulped, unsure what he was getting himself into, he slowly walked up the gravel driveway. Carl stepped softly heal to toe, attempting to limit the noise he made as he approached the house. Eventually, the trees opened to a clearing, the moonlight casting an eerie glow around a modern home set up high on the rise, surrounded by the woods on all sides. He stopped in his tracks, wondering if this was such a good idea after all.

  He checked his watch; it was almost four, the sun would be up before six. He debated waiting for daylight or going in now. There wasn't much of a choice. He hurried his pace to the house scanning the area for security cameras or motion sensor lights. Two cars were parked in the driveway, he carefully moved in, placed his hand on the car's hood that was at the base of the driveway, cold and moist. It hadn't moved in hours. He cupped his hands on the driver's window and looked inside: the interior was clean, a single Starbucks cup in the holder, dangling from a USB slot in the radio, it is hard to see in the dim light, but Carl thought it was either a pink or purple mobile phone power cord. "A girl's car," he thought.

  He did the same to the second car, parked closest to the house. Inside he saw another clean interior. There wasn't anything inside the car, no loose receipts, no papers, no CDs. It was immaculately clean. "No clue. Damn," he thought.

  He turned his attention to the house, and as he was about to walk around the back, he noticed a four-foot-high chain link fence. "Small dog?" He stopped, strained to see beyond the fence for anything that would give away what was on the other side. Carl followed the fence to the east; it disappeared into the darkness of the night. He had no idea how far the fence went. Looking west, most of the fence was obscured by the house. He took in a deep breath, feeling the cooling night air, he debated whether or not to continue. If it was a dog beyond the fence, it couldn't be too large. The fence couldn't hold back a large dog. If it were a small dog, it would probably still be inside the house. His mind raced with options. None of the options involved leaving and coming back during daylight, so he decided to press forward.

  Following the right side of the house, he moved slowly, hoping there wasn't any motion sensors to activate the lights. The moon overhead only provided enough light to maneuver to the house. Rounding the corner, he scanned the surrounding backyard which was a solid blanket of darkness. He assumed the trees must be blocking any light from above. He decided to move forward, heard something, paused then heard it again. Footfalls on the grass moved closer to the fence, soft, steadily advancing from beyond the other side of the fence. His heart stopped, blood froze in his veins, Carl heard the growl of a large dog in the darkness. The snarling continued and grew closer. Slowly emerging from the night, he made out white fangs surrounded by curled lips. The full head of a Shephard appeared and pressed its muzzle against the fence. Saliva dripped from the dog's fangs onto the fence links, hung for a moment then trickled to the ground. The growling intensified and echoed in the night as Carl realized there was now a second dog emerging behind the fence. Something came up in the back of his throat that didn't taste very good. He forced it back down. "That's no small dog," he thought.

  Carl slowly backed up along the wall, the dogs followed him along the fence. He needed a distraction. Moving at a snail's pace, he pulled his cell phone from his jacket, opened the camera app and pointed it at the dog and pressed the shutter. The camera clicked, the flash failed to go off. "Fuck." He set the flash, pointed it at the dogs and pressed the shutter. The bright light temporarily blinded the dogs; they turned away from him giving Carl an escape. He bounded down the driveway, sliding on the loose gravel, not daring to look behind him. He figured the dogs would give chase and be on his tail. Running as if the dogs would pounce on him any moment, he slid and continuously lost his footing.

  Ahead of him, the end of the driveway was completely shrouded in darkness. The upper part of the driveway was partially lit in the moonlight. A different type of fear overtook him. He couldn't remember from which direction he came; does he turn left or right? Ahead of him was nothing but the darkness. His heart raced, so many thoughts ran through his mind in a split second: Why did he go? Why didn't he wait for daylight? Why didn't he research the address before going out? Which way should he go, left or right? Carl made up his mind, he went right, for better or worse. He still couldn't make himself look back to see if the dogs were following. That's when the person being chased always stumbles and falls and the person or thing giving chase catches up. He was frightened, scared for his life, adrenaline coursed through his body. His legs found new energy to propel him faster. He entered the tree-covered section of the driveway, felt his head snap back, and fell to the driveway unconscious.

  Will stood over Carl holding a large branch he had picked up when he first woke up when Carl set off his alarm. He had watched Carl from the window and made his way to the end of the driveway knowing the house was secure and Carl would eventually have to leave when he couldn't gain access to the house.

  Blood flowed freely from Carl's nose and upper lip and dripped onto the gravel driveway. Will stood over the unconscious body, looking down on the man he had just attacked. He knew the man, recognized him from the day before at the hospital. He raised the large tree branch over his head to deliver another blow to Carl's head when a light came on in the
house. Katy was up. He lowered the branch, tossed it into the woods, then stood there and waited for the light to go out. Waiting another few minutes, he grabbed Carl by the hair and dragged him off up to the house.

  Will entered the combination and unlocked the outside door to the basement. He dragged Carl down the stairs, through the basement to the back, opened the freezer where he kept his prize and rolled him inside. Carl moaned, moved his hand up to his face to check his injury. Will casually stepped closer, raised his foot and stomped on Carl's head. His head bounced off the frozen concrete floor with a dull thud. Carl was now unconscious.

  Upstairs in the bedroom, Will placed his hand on Katy's shoulder, rocking it gently, rousing her. She stretched, turned over and smiled when she saw him.

  "What time is it?" she asked as she covered her mouth with her hand. "My breath must be horrid."

  He smiled, "Nonsense. I want to show you something." He took her hand softly. "Come on."

  She slid out from under the covers, slightly embarrassed, still naked from the night before. She pulled the sheet to cover herself, but it fell back to the bed as he guided her out of the bedroom. They walked down the hall towards the back of the house.

  "Where are you taking me?" she asked. "I should put some clothes on." "You don't need clothes. You look perfect."

  He turned right from the hall into a small room with a window that ran the expanse from one wall to the next, floor to ceiling. Two large recliners faced the window, along the back wall, a bookshelf ran from end to end holding hundreds of books. The second-floor window overlooked a vast canopy of treetops and a mountain range far off in the distance. "My father had this put in when my mother was still alive. They used to have their morning coffee and watch the sun come up almost every morning."

  Katy stood in front of the window, her arms spread, palms flat on the glass, looking out onto the forest. The sun hadn't come up yet, but its faint glow of whites and yellows and oranges bounced off the sky and blended with the Spring leaves on the trees.

  "They must've sat up here a lot." Her eyes never left the sky.

  "My mother got bored with it after a while. She stopped coming up. Dad never did though. I would catch him up here all the time when he wasn't working." Will walked over and stood beside Katy, both looking out, waiting for the sun to come up. "Funny thing is, he said this was his favorite place to be. He liked being alone. My mom and dad didn't get along all that great. He tried, he really tried. She just had no, I don't know, zest for life. She was content just being a wife. I always figured dad settled."

  Katy reached down and took his hand, "Never settle. Worse thing you can do. Marriage isn't like a car that you grow tired of then trade it in for a new model. You don't have to keep the car if you don't want to. I wouldn't want to be stuck with someone who doesn't appreciate me. And I wouldn't want to be with the wrong person either."

  The edge of the sun broke over the top of the mountain, the light became brighter, stronger, replacing the colors with pure, crisp white daylight across the sky.

  Katy got excited, "Look," she pointed, "The sun is coming up."

  Will had seen that very moment hundreds, perhaps thousands of times since childhood, instead he stared at Katy as she marveled at something that happens every single morning and few people take the time to witness it. The sun rose a little higher over the mountain, the beam of light cut over the treetops, hitting the house, bathing Katy's naked body in pure white light.

  *****

  The morning light cut through a crack in the curtains of the bedroom window and across Paul's face causing him to shut his eyelids tighter. He moaned, turned away from the window and curled up on the chair under Nicole's bathrobe. His back hurt, his neck ached, his bladder was full. He let the robe fall to the floor, tip-toed across the floor to the washroom. He pulled his underwear down and sat on the toilet. His head bobbed as he tried to stay awake. He had fallen asleep once before and still bears the scar on his forehead where he hit the toilet paper holder on the opposite wall.

  When he finished, he contemplated flushing or not. He closed the door and flushed just as his cell phone began to ring in the living room. He sprung up, ran for the phone, looked at the screen, "Caller ID Blocked", he swiped to answer the call anyway before Nicole woke up.

  "Paul Hammond."

  There was silence on the other end; Paul thought he had missed the call when he heard a faint noise on the other end. "You called me," he told the caller.

  "You're still investigating the missing girls, aren't you?"

  Paul couldn't place the voice, thought long and hard about his response and settled for, "Yes." Was it a tip or the unsub?

  "I saw a picture of the guy you're looking for."

  Paul's mind began to race. The police hadn't released the composite sketch of the suspect or any details of the previous day's events at the hospital. "Yes."

  A long pause, "I know where he lives. I know who he is." The voice was monotone, quiet, painful to hear.

  "Who is he?"

  "What will happen to him?" The voice was still difficult to hear.

  Paul thought carefully before answering, "My job is to make the arrest.

  That's it." Best to keep the answers truthful and short, he thought.

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line, no noise. Paul pulled the phone away and checked to see if the line was still connected. The phone timer continued to run.

  "Did you want to tell me something?"

  Still silence. Breathing could be heard on the other end. Paul decided it was best to wait, not to pressure the caller. Was the caller debating whether to say anything or under pressure to make the call from someone else? Either way, Paul would stay on the phone until the called disconnected.

  Several minutes went by with nothing but silence on the phone. Paul kept the phone to his ear until, "1971 East Parkway. It's on the other side of the ravine, way off the main road." The line went dead.

  Having nothing to write on, Paul repeated the address over and over, "1971 East Parkway. 1971 East Parkway. 1971 East Parkway." He found his notepad and jotted down the address. Rushing, he put on yesterday's clothes, silently walked back to the bedroom, kissed Nicole softly on the forehead, left her a note on the kitchen table and left.

  *****

  Carl woke up, confused, unaware of his surroundings. He looked around, seeing nothing but darkness. The room was beyond black; there wasn't a crack of light penetrating the thickness around him. He took in a deep breath, felt the bitterness in the air, his lungs immediately hurt from breathing in the freezing air. He was cold from lying on the concrete floor. The type of cold that digs deep into your body sending shivering tremors through the body. He placed his hand on the frozen floor and pulled his hand back. Unable to see, he wasn't sure at first if he was blind. He slowly swung his arms around himself to gauge the size of the room and what was around him. His right arm hit something hard. He began to pat the air until he found whatever it was he hit and grabbed it. His hand started to burn and pulled away. The metal bar was so cold; he couldn't sense the difference between heat and cold. He brought his hand to his mouth and blew warm air into the closed fist. For the first time, he tasted the blood in his mouth. It must have frozen while he was unconscious on the floor. He spat a small amount of blood out and heard it hit the floor.

  Sitting on the concrete was too cold to bear. He slowly stood, unsure if he would hit his head on something. It was difficult with his stiff leg muscles, but Carl was able to stand. He was still cold, shivering, desperately wanting to feel something warm but getting off the cold floor was a good start he reasoned.

  Now that he was standing, he could feel the cold air being blown in from multiple directions. He lifted his arms and let the breeze cut across his hands. One source from the front, the other from the back. "Good," he said aloud.

  He wasn't sure how he got into, whatever it was he was in, but he knew that he couldn't survive too much longer. He needed light. He pad
ded himself down, looking for his cell phone. Gone. Whoever had brought him here, took it, or it was on the floor. Not knowing where he was, or how large the room was another problem. "Tackle one at a time," he whispered to himself.

  He knew the cold was the first problem. Scared, wondering if he was alone in the room, he had no choice but to create a mental inventory of the items available and try to stem the flow of cold air blowing in the room.

  Carl took one step forward. Nothing. "Good." He stepped back. He took one step to the left. Same result. Back to the starting point. One step to the right. His thigh struck something. He closed his eyes, unsure why, but he wanted to be able to imagine what he was doing. Placing his arms directly in front of him, he felt nothing. He felt the cold metal against his legs and knew it was part of the same device that burnt his hand. He pulled his jacket sleeve down, covered his hands and found the edge. It was a table, metal, tubes or rounded edges. He lifted his leg and swung it forward, nothing beneath it.

  Taking a deep breath of frozen air, he slowly, methodically moved his hands forward on the table. His fingers found something, hard, frozen. Pausing for a few moments, his mind ran the variables and couldn't place what he was touching. He decided against what his better judgment was telling him. He moved his hands forward, over the frozen object then across. His hands were trembling or shivering. Whatever was frozen on the table had curves. He followed one and found something he immediately recognized. He pulled back, falling backwards, crashing into the counter behind him. The items on the counter went flying and came crashing to the concrete floor with a distinctive hollow metal sound he remembered from the day before. He knew what was on the table and what had just been sent crashing to the floor. Carl was no longer cold.

  *****

  Paul tried calling Ken and Dan repeatedly without success as he followed his vehicles navigation system to 1971 East Parkway. Instead, he called dispatch and told them where he was going, asked the dispatcher to continue calling Ken and Dan and send at least two uniformed officers to join him. Satisfied, Paul dropped the phone to the seat and steered his way through the country road guided by the female voice of the nav system.