It was dark and it was really cold. “Oh, God, this is it,” Roger said quietly and it was clear from the tremble in his voice that he was scared. He stepped up next to me in the dark doorway.
“Yes. absolutely, it is,” Jamie replied, stepping further into the gloom.
Whispering over his shoulder to us, Mike said, “Okay, let’s find them.” He looked left then right into the dimness and then, pointing straight ahead, he began walking. Following close behind, we were led away from the sounds of the highway and the yellow light from the open door. The cement floor, which is all I could see, was extremely clean. Through the darkness, I could see something in front of us: there were some metal tracks running from left to right about three feet off the floor. They looked like the tracks of a miniature roller coaster. Turning right at the track and following it into the darkness, we tried not to run into the ceiling support columns, which materialized suddenly in front of our faces. There were new noises now, too—not loud, but faint, off in the distance, soft tapping and scratching noises. It sounded something like the branches of a tree against a window—but not quite.
“Oh, God, what is that noise?” Roger whispered from off to my right. I was trying to figure it out myself when, all of a sudden, I knew where my parents and Milton were. Looking up and scanning the ceiling for any signs of light, I reached out and touched Roger and Jamie to stop them.
“Mike,” I whispered to keep him from getting too far away from us. “I know where they are! They’re being held in an office up near the ceiling. I don’t know how to get there, but that’s where they are.”
We all glanced up and around, not seeing anything like what I was describing. “Well, we probably need to find some stairs, right?” Mike whispered back in the dark, and then off we went further into the building, still following alongside the metal track. After a few more yards, the track turned to the left and began to rise upward. Walking on, we came to a cinder block wall, which the track must have sailed over. “Okay, Philip, which way now?” Jamie asked.
“I don’t have a clue, Jamie,” I snapped, a little upset and feeling defensive. “I’ve never been here before, remember?”
“None of us have been here before!” she responded. “But you’re the one with the Knowledge. Who else should I ask?”
“She’s right, Philip, you do have a clue,” Mike said, calmly. “Just let yourself know. Get out of the way and allow the Knowledge to just be.” I knew he was right in front of me and staring into my face, but I could barely see him. “Take a deep breath,” he assured me, “And you’ll know.”
Right? Left? Back where we’d come from? I didn’t know anything, I started to turn around, then back around, looking for anything that might give me even the slightest hint. I couldn’t even see the open door where we’d come in and figured we must have gone around something that blocked it.
Just then, a loud noise rang out from somewhere over the cinder block wall in front of us. It was a shrill, metallic clang reverberating through the empty space, followed by a clatter of something hollow falling onto the cement floor.
“I’m sorry guys. I have to go,” Roger practically sobbed. “I thought I could do this, but I just can’t. I—I— I’m going back to the car.” And then he was gone. He walked into the darkness and was gone. I could hear his shoes scuff the cement for a few steps and then that, too, was gone.
I turned toward Mike and reached out a hand to him, hoping to grasp the one that wasn’t holding onto the hatchet. “What the heck?” I said. “What are we supposed to do now?” I asked the slightly-less-dark area hovering nearby in the darkness that I knew was Mike. I could feel the panic rising in me, my breathing getting shorter and ragged. I was about to bolt myself.
“Hold it together, Philip,” he cautioned.
“I don’t know that I can.” I said
Then he was there. Mike was there, wrapping his arms around me, rubbing his cheek against mine, and whispering in my ear, “I’m here. We’re together, and no one is going anywhere. I love you, Phil. I’ve always loved you, and this psycho can’t take that away from us.” Then he kissed me. He started kissing me next to my ear, then his lips moved closer to my mouth. One kiss was on the corner of my mouth, which sent a shock into me. The next kiss was right on target and the shock turned into a flood. We opened our mouths to each other, exploring, tasting, and feeling each other. Somehow, my free hand had gotten to the back of his head and my fingers were first raking through his hair, then grabbing a handful and forcing his face more firmly against me. My hand—the one holding the bat—wrapped around his waist, while one of his hands was planted firmly in the middle of my back as I was arching back to keep kissing him. The panic I’d felt moments ago turned into something else entirely. I wanted to stay there forever, but eventually I felt a little overwhelmed by the mix of emotions, so I stepped back and broke our body contact.
“Wow,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I’ll say,” said Jamie. I’d forgotten anyone else was there. “I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the heat from over here.”
Mike was so close that when he spoke I could feel his breath on my face. “I could tell that you were about to freak out, and that’s all I could think of to shake you out of it. Did it work?” He asked.
My hand was still on the back of his head when I pointed over his shoulder, “That way.”
“Huh?” he asked.
“That way,” I repeated. “I think it’s that way. Scratch that. I know it’s that way.” I took his hand and led the way into the darkness.
“That’s my boy,” Jamie said as she fell in step right behind us.
As we walked, I was aware of a drop ceiling hovering over us and a narrowing of the walls. The sound of our shoes on the cement had changed. Then, there it was. I almost tripped over the first step of a large staircase rising up in front of us. Climbing the stairs, about halfway up, we saw light coming over the top. About twenty steps further got us to the top where we could see there were windows in the distance—just as I’d known there would be. The light was from a walled-off office area with windows that looked out over the warehouse. My eyes had adjusted pretty well to the darkness by then, so I could actually see what was around us. We stopped at the top of the stairs to look around.
Off to the right, I could see where the metal track had risen to this level and then split into several tracks, which disappeared into the far wall beneath the office. To the left was a mountain of cardboard boxes. It was colder on this level, and damp. I could hear water dripping here and there and that odd scratching noise had gotten louder. Just as I took a step away from Mike and toward the boxes to get a closer look, a gunshot exploded from over by the office. At the same time, I felt Mike flick my ear like he wanted to get my attention, which he definitely had. I turned quickly to find out what was so urgent and realized he was standing too far away to have done it. Then it hit me—literally. It was a bullet that had grazed my ear! Reaching up to touch it, my fingers came away wet with blood. Somebody was shooting at us! We had to move!
“Run!” I shouted before dashing toward the boxes. One of them was on the floor, right in front of me, but I didn’t see it and instead stumbled into it setting off a noisy chain reaction. The box went sailing into the precarious cardboard mountain, causing a mini avalanche. Tripping over the box did have its benefits as it made me stumble just as another shot rang out, missing me completely. I landed at the base of the crumbling mountain with Mike crouching next to me. I couldn’t see Jamie anywhere, but I could see my crash landing had caused more boxes to cascade down toward us. These were not the usual type of cardboard boxes, these were heavy duty, water resistant waxed boxes, and several of them were partly filled with crushed ice, which showered down on us like a quick hail storm along with the heavy boxes themselves. Several pieces of ice ended up down the back of my shirt, causing me to foolishly jump up considering someone was shooting at us. Either way, we had to go, so I grabbed Mike�
��s hand, and together we quickly ran around to the side of the boxes and further away from the office windows where the gunman seemed to be stationed.
“We’ll never survive just running around and waiting for him to pick us off one by one,” I whispered frantically to Mike. “I say we rush him.” I was making it up as I went along. “You could go left around the boxes and I’ll go right. Then we try to find him before he finds us.”
“That’s a terrible plan,” Mike replied just as we heard machinery start up somewhere in the warehouse. Suddenly, the boxes were flying toward us and across the floor, driven by a massive hose that was spewing ice. The mountain of boxes, which had already begun collapsing, was now in the process of a full-blown avalanche. Ice was flying every which way so we had to cover our faces to avoid being hit with the stinging pellets.
“We can’t stay here!” Mike shouted over the noise. “Let’s go!” He started running back in the direction we’d come from when all of the lights in the warehouse suddenly burst into full glare. That’s when I saw Jamie sitting on the floor with her back to a neatly stacked pallet of boxes. Then we heard a shout from over by the office. Still running, I looked over my shoulder and saw an older man, apparently this was the Hunter we’d been hunting. He was a fit man with evident muscles for a man of his age wearing a black tee shirt and jeans.
The Hunter dropped his pistol at his feet so he could remove a helmet from his head. The helmet must have been some sort of night vision device and he’d been blinded by the sudden bright lights. I changed course and ran right at him, although he was still about fifty yards away. I was running at full speed with the bat in my hand by the time he got the helmet off and was able to see what was happening. Without the helmet I could see he was a tall man with a fringe of greying blond hair on his balding head. His large nose cut the air like a knife, and his blue eyes turned to me. When he saw me, he began looking around for his gun. I was trying to avoid the piles of ice, which were scattered all over the floor, so I had to adjust my speed or slip and fall. When I was still about ten yards away, the man found his pistol and raised it at the same time that I lifted the bat over my head and threw it at him as forcefully as I could. At that moment, I saw the look on his face: I’d never seen such naked hatred on another person’s face. It was clear that he hated me, although I still had no idea why. I watched the bat sail end over end toward him but he didn’t notice. He was completely consumed by his rage. Reaching out his arm, gun in hand, eyes fixed on me, he squeezed the trigger just as the bat connected with his forehead.
◆◆◆
His head snapped back and the gun flew up and out of his hand. He stood like that for just a split second and then he collapsed in a heap on the floor. After he fell, I turned and saw Mike running toward me. Just before he reached me, I stumbled sideways, took a few lurching, off-balance steps, and fell into his arms just as my knees gave out. The two of us fell together onto the icy, box-strewn warehouse floor. I think that’s when I noticed I’d been shot—not just a little nick on the ear like before, but really shot. I looked down and saw the red spreading across my shirt. It seemed to be coming from the left side of my chest. I didn’t feel any pain, although I couldn’t breathe easily. My heart was pounding but I couldn’t fill my lungs with air. Mike held me. We were on our knees in the ice at first. Then, he laid me down gently. He was talking the entire time but I didn’t really understand what he was saying. The next time I looked up, Roger and Jamie were standing beside us.
“Guys, I’m so sorry I ran out on you,” Roger apologized. “When I heard the first gunshot, I came back in. I must have gotten turned around, but I found the electrical panel and tried to turn the lights on—I thought it might help. I guess I turned everything else on, too,” he shook his head remorsefully. I noticed that the ice machine was still grinding away behind us, waiting to be turned off. Thankfully it had run out of ice by then. It’s strange what you notice when you’re in shock.
“I’m glad you came back,” Mike said to him. “Can you and Jamie go check the office up there and see if our people are okay?”
“Of course,” they said, staring at the blood spreading across my chest and soaking my t-shirt. Then, they took off.
We were left alone on the ice, Mike was kneeling and my head was propped on a pile of ice. He was stroking my hair and my eyes were locked on his. I suddenly coughed and a deep searing pain filled my chest, followed by the metallic taste of blood. I tried to spit it out, but only managed to drip it out of my mouth and down my cheek. I coughed again and the pain was so sharp I didn’t think I’d be able to inhale again. For a moment I was stuck, not breathing at all, just looking at Mike and trying to say goodbye. When the breath finally came, it was so painful I had to close my eyes.
“This isn’t fair,” Mike said. “We just got started. Why did I wait all year? I should have just come right up to you and let you know who I was! We could have had more time.” He paused to wipe away tears blurring his eyes. “Philip! Please don’t leave me here.” He held one hand and gently pushed the hair out of my eyes with his other as he looked down at me. His knees—buried in the ice—were wet from the melting and he shifted his weight to make me more comfortable. Then, he went on softly, “I only feel like me when I’m with you. Please, Phil, stay.” I couldn’t talk, so I tried to tell him I loved him with my eyes, and by squeezing his hand.
I heard voices behind us and tried to turn and see who it was but found I couldn’t move anything but my arms. Instead, I laid there on the melting ice and waited for them to come closer. First Mom and Dad appeared, then Milton showed up, following close behind them. Mom saw me then dropped to her knees next to Mike and took hold of my other hand. She looked a wreck: her hair was a disaster and I could tell she’d been crying by the smudged make-up under her eyes and on her cheeks. My dad was standing behind her and looked pretty bad himself. He had quite a shiner blossoming under one eye. Milton looked the worst, though. Blood had dried thick and dark in his hair and had dripped down the side of his face and into his ear. He was cradling one arm protectively against his ribcage.
“Where is he?” Milton was the first to speak. “Where’s the psycho?” He demanded breathlessly. “Roger said he thinks maybe you killed him?”
Wordlessly, Mike pointed over my head to the spot where we’d seen him fall, then Milton ran over to investigate. He returned quickly and said, “You guys, he’s gone! There’s some blood on the floor and a baseball bat, but there’s no one over there.”
Mike looked from Milton to me and then said, “I’ll find him, Phil. I’ll finish what we started. I promise.” I closed my eyes and slipped away, just as my father had foretold many years ago, just as Roger had seen last night. My parents and Milton had been saved but the Hunter had gotten away.
Of course, I don’t remember any of this last part. My last memory was of that kiss in the dark. Oh, that kiss. The memory of the kiss we shared holding one another in the dark that night would bring me comfort in the years and lives ahead, but, of course, that’s another story. Everything that happened after the kiss I pieced together later based on accounts from the people who were there and didn’t die. I think we did a great thing that night, especially for a little group of clueless teenagers who were not in full possession of their Knowledge.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It is said that the Knowers have always been.
The Knowers are reborn, age after age. They return to serve mankind in ways both large and small, always remaining in the shadows and largely out of sight. Their goal is to help where and when they can without acknowledgment or discovery.
Southampton Free Press 1975 (Excerpt)
We’re walking up a stairway in a dimly lit building. I can smell cabbage cooking. He begins speaking over his shoulder, “I want to share everything with you. Our histories are so tangled up together, it’s more like one shared history instead of two,” he explains as he leads me down a corridor. “I want to share our future together as well. I want
to be with you, to be there for you.” We come to a halt in front of a door with a small metallic label with 839 painted on it. I notice that he has a key in his hand. “Right now, though, I want you to share this moment with me.” Ingmar is wearing deeply pleated grey trousers, a white long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up, and a tightly knotted silk tie. I’m in my uniform, hat in my hands. He opens the hotel door, and we go in together.
◆◆◆
Then I woke up in the hospital. Apparently it had been two days since the shooting, and Mom and Dad were standing over my bed looking anxiously down at me.
That’s right: I didn’t die after all. Well, strictly speaking, I did. You see, what none of us in the building that night knew was that someone had called the police to report a break-in at the warehouse. The police arrived just in time to see Roger dash into the building, which he’d done when he heard the gunshot. They followed him to the upper landing and got there just as I lost consciousness. Like I said, I did die at one point—apparently, my heart stopped in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Obviously, they brought me back, but to be clear, I did die that day. But just, you know, for a moment.
Two weeks after that terrible night, I left the hospital. The Hunter’s bullet had fractured a few ribs and punctured a lung. I had a few other minor injuries including that nicked ear, but nothing that wouldn’t heal over time. I was definitely sore. It hurt to cough and sneeze and laugh, but my time in the hospital is best skipped over. It was painful and boring, and they gave me a lot of drugs. I was happy to finally leave.
DEAD AT SIXTEEN (THE KNOWERS Book 1) Page 8