Red-Line: The Shift (Volume One)

by J. T. Bishop

  “Better talk fast, ’cause I’m about to find the exit, my friend.”

  He noticed she bunched her napkin in her hand and prayed she’d sit still long enough to hear him out. “Let me try again.” He took a breath, and started. “Sarah, this may sound strange, and I know we just met, but bear with me, please.” He tried to convey his sincerity. He paused a moment to think about where to start and then decided there was no easy way to explain it, so he just started from the top. He met her eyes and focused on her and his next words. “There are many people who experience a profound transformation at a certain point in their lives. For most, when it starts, it manifests as discomfort or dissatisfaction and not knowing why, unhappiness with their circumstances, their job, their marriage, or just a general questioning of who they are and why they’re here. Some have insomnia, others headaches, some get both. There are those who leave their spouse, leave their job, and change everything, because they can do nothing less. Others get physically ill. They get aches, pains, skin problems, lethargy, depression, you name it. There are numerous illnesses that anyone can manifest as they transition through this period. They question everything, and as a result, create experiences for themselves that help them ask the questions they’ve been avoiding. Most get through it as best they can. They come to terms with where they are or they change their lives and do something new. Either way, they usually find ways to cope with it or to feel better.”

  He stopped for a second before continuing, and she didn’t interrupt. Taking that as a cue, he kept going. “But there are others, Sarah, who have a much harder time. They lose family members, significant others, lose their homes, jobs, and frequently find themselves somewhere they never thought they’d be. They are usually alone or on their own. They question everything, suffer intense depression, get sick, sometimes very sick. They know there is something more, something yet to discover, something just within their grasp. Sometimes they find it, and sometimes they don’t.” He watched her, waiting for her reaction.

  She just looked at him. “Are you telling me that I’m sick? That I’m part of the latter group?” she asked.

  “Actually, no,” he said, trying hard to figure out what to say next. “That latter group, despite all their struggles, will usually find their way on their own. Some won’t make it, but most will. They’ll find the answers they need to move forward. What I’m saying, Sarah, is that you’re part of the group that comes after that.” He hesitated in order to give her some time.

  “And what group is that, Ramsey?” she asked.

  He noticed that she used his last name, and he found it interesting that she chose now to use it. Her energy was coiled, like she was preparing to flee, and he proceeded slowly. “There is another group, for reasons I won’t go into now, that go through an even more profound change. They experience all of what the first two groups go through, but they…uh, how shall I say it? They change.”

  “Change?” She had no idea how to interpret this.

  “Yes, change. And that’s where I come in.”

  “Whoa, let’s go back to that change part. What do you mean, change?”

  Her skepticism was intensifying, and he knew it, but he couldn’t back down now. He pushed forward, trusting he would find the right words. “There’s an actual physical change which can result in some…uh…unusual manifestations, for lack of a better word.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “What, are you saying that I’m going to turn into a monkey or something? Or no, wait; I’m going to get taller or shorter, fatter or thinner? Oh, how about this, am I going to turn green whenever I get mad?”

  He tried to explain. “Sarah, I know this sounds strange, but—”

  “No, you’ve had your shot, and I’m leaving now.” She stood up. She had listened and decided she’d heard enough. “I don’t know who you are or why you showed up, but I want you to leave me alone. You go help whoever you need to help, but I will be just fine without you rushing in to save me.”

  “Sarah, please, just let me finish. This will make perfect sense if you’ll just sit and...”

  “Ramsey, I’m tired and I want to go home. Thank you for the food, but not the company.” She turned away and headed for the door.

  “Damn it.” Ramsey reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed some cash. He threw it on the table and went to follow her out. The hostess stopped him, though, as he tried to leave.

  “Troubles with your lady friend?” she asked as she blocked his exit.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, trying to move around her. She was persistent, though.

  “If you’re available, I’d love it if you’d call me.” She smiled and slipped a matchbook into his hand.

  He looked at it. She had written her phone number on the inside cover.

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Excuse me.” He finally dodged around her and headed out the door.

  Sarah hurried out of the restaurant, feeling like a complete idiot. Hot tears burned the back of her eyes. He was a nut job and he’d somehow made it past her radar. He had to be some sort of con artist or something, preying on her in her vulnerable state. He wanted something from her—that was clear. She had no idea what. She had nothing to give him. Why would he say all those odd things to her? Was he trying to be her savior or something? None of it made sense. Her emotions were in total disarray. She felt hot, and she realized she was sweating.

  Great, she thought, now I really am sick. Just what she needed right now.

  She kept walking down the sidewalk, heading home at a fast pace, hoping he wouldn’t follow her or try to stop her. Her vision spun for a moment before it righted itself. She slowed down and put her hand on an outside brick wall to find her balance and let the dizzy spell pass.

  “Are you all right, miss?” An elderly gentleman with a gray beard and kind eyes walked up to her. He placed a gentle hand on her back. “You’re looking a bit pale. Can I help?”

  Sarah struggled to clear her head. Her lunch churned in her stomach. She took a deep breath to settle herself. “I’m fine. Thank you. Just felt a little dizzy for a second.” She stood up straight and took her weight off the wall. “I think I’m all right now.”

  “I insist on helping, madam. You look like you could pass out any moment. Can I call someone?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m just around the corner.”

  “Well, then, let me drive you. My car is right here.”

  She glanced at him. He must have been in his seventies, with gray eyes. He wore an expensive suit and carried a cane made from a dark burnished wood.

  Something in her stirred, and it didn’t feel pleasant. His hand remained on her back, and she wanted him to remove it. “You’re kind to offer, but no, thank you. I’m better now.”

  She moved to walk away, but a sudden burst of heat coursed through her back and inflamed her chest and belly. Grabbing at her midsection, she gasped and doubled over.

  “Of course I’ll help you, Sarah, my dear girl. Let me get you to the car.”

  Before she could object, he had placed an iron grip around her middle, revealing a strength she did not expect, and lifted her off her feet. He began to carry her toward a dark SUV sitting at the curb. The heat on her back was so intense that it hurt to move. She wanted to scream, but her lungs felt closed. Frozen in fear, she could only watch as a complete stranger grabbed her off the street and prepared to put her in his car. The word kidnapping did not compute to her. Why would anyone want to kidnap her?

  The answer to her question never came, as a loud snap sounded in her ears and she felt herself falling. She had no strength to stop her descent, and she braced for the hard hit as the cement ground loomed toward her. She never felt it, though, as her vision blurred, and all went black.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  WHEN RAMSEY LEFT the sandwich shop, he headed down the sidewalk, looking for Sarah. He was surprised he couldn’t see her. She apparently moved fast when she was angry. He knew he had revealed too much informa
tion too fast, but he didn’t have the luxury of time. These were uncharted waters for him, and all he could do was trust his instincts.

  He felt a flare of unease in his stomach. He picked up his pace and started a slow jog as something nagged at him. The streets were more crowded now, since the sun had made its appearance. Joggers trotted by, and mothers with young children pushed their strollers as they headed toward their destinations. People were headed out to lunch, intent on enjoying the now pretty day. He tried to see around them but had little success. He crossed the last street before reaching Sarah’s corner, thinking he should have caught up to her by now.

  He stopped as he felt an odd heat fluctuation on his left. He turned and saw that what he had overlooked as an older man accompanying a young woman to her car was actually Sarah being unwillingly carried toward a parked vehicle. He had nearly walked right by them. A flare of hot emotion lit up inside him. He’d never had to resort to violence to protect someone before, but that was about to change.

  He swiveled to his left and came up behind the man, who had Sarah in his arms and was reaching for the car door. The man never saw Ramsey coming. He’d managed to open the car door partially as Ramsey kicked out hard, slamming the door back shut again. The elderly man looked up just as Ramsey yanked the walking stick out of his hand, snapped it in two and jabbed the sharp end right into the man’s abdomen, not hard enough to penetrate, but enough to make him double over and lose his breath.

  “Going somewhere?” asked Ramsey as the man lost his grip on Sarah and she slipped out of his grasp and fell limply forward, apparently losing consciousness. Anger coursed through Ramsey and he grabbed the back of the man’s jacket, pulled him backward, and opened the car door again. The man, still doubled over but recovering much faster than Ramsey expected for a man of his age, reached out and touched Ramsey’s side. Ramsey felt the heat flare immediately. It shocked and surprised him. He lessened his hold on the unexpected attacker and the older man attempted to pull away, but Ramsey recovered and tightened his grip. With his free hand, he sent his own counterattack measures right back into the midsection of the man trying to escape. The man stilled as the heat shock rippled through him.

  “Right back at ya, Grandpa,” he said in the man’s ear. “You’re not the only one who plays with fire.”

  Ramsey managed to swing the car door open and dump the now quieter man on the back seat. He figured it would take the man some time to recover from the zap he’d given him.

  “You rest right there, Granddad,” he said as he noticed this little scuffle on the street was starting to draw attention. “You know you’re not supposed to be overexerting yourself this way. I’m going to have to take you to Dr. Oldman now, and he won’t be happy with you wearing yourself out like this.”

  He closed the car door and dropped next to Sarah, who lay on her side on the sidewalk. He kneeled on one knee and checked her condition. She was pale and unresponsive.

  “How is she? Should I call an ambulance?” A middle-aged woman holding a coffee cup and wearing a jogging suit had stopped to help. A couple of other people stood behind her.

  Ramsey thought fast. He put on his most solemn face. “Actually, no. She’s got the flu. I’m her brother, and I told her to take it easy, but she won’t listen to me. You know how it is with family.” He rolled his eyes to emphasize his point. The bystander continued to look at him with no change in expression.

  He changed tactics when he realized she might call the cops if he picked Sarah up right now and tried to carry her off. He needed to get the woman on his side. He couldn’t afford a parade of law enforcement.

  “Actually,” he said in a whispered tone, moving closer to her as she instinctively leaned in and crouched down to hear him. “It’s kind of embarrassing.” He paused for effect. “She ran off with Granddad in here.” He banged the car door with the flat of his palm, and the lady jumped with the noise. “And, well…” He hesitated, as if deciding whether to share the information he was about to give. “Well, she got pregnant.”

  The bystander’s eyes widened into circles with that information.

  Bull’s-eye, thought Ramsey. He knew he had her now. “He’s got money,” he whispered, looking at the woman with disgust in his eyes. “You know how that is.”

  The woman’s head moved up and down in understanding. “Poor dear. She should have known better.”

  “Exactly,” Ramsey continued, conveying displeasure. “She decided to leave him when he didn’t want the baby.”

  “Oh, no.” The woman was fully invested now as she looked down at Sarah with pity.

  “We encouraged her to do it. He doesn’t love her, just loves, well, you know…” He looked at her with knowingness in his eyes.

  She shook her head. “Unbelievable.” The woman watched Sarah with concern.

  “He’s not taking it too well, as you can see. Thankfully, I got here just in time. I just need to get her back to her room. I’m sure she’s fainted from the stress and pregnancy, and she probably has a bump on her head from the fall.” He moved to pick her up.

  “What about him?” The woman rose from her crouch and looked into the car to see the man slumped over in the back seat.

  “Him?” Ramsey snorted. “Please. He’s fine. Just had too much to drink as usual and tried to pull her into his car. He’s not handling the situation too well.” Ramsey had managed to pick Sarah up at this point. She began to stir, and her fingers found his shirt and held onto him.

  “That’s terrible. I hope she’s okay.”

  “She’ll be fine. She’s already starting to come around. Thank you for your help. You’ve been very kind.” Ramsey looked at her with soft eyes. Funny how easy it was for people to believe the crazy stories and not the boring ones.

  “Are you sure you don’t need to call a doctor? She looks so pale.”

  “Oh, I will. I’ll get her upstairs and call immediately. I’ll call someone to come pick up Grandpa, too. We’re trying to keep this under the radar, if you understand what I mean. Ambulances and police would upset her even more.”

  “Yes, of course.” She nodded in understanding. By now, the small crowd had begun to disperse. They had left the matter to the concerned citizen who appeared willing to help.

  Ramsey turned toward Sarah’s building, carrying Sarah in his arms. He looked back at the woman. “Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome. Good luck with everything.”

  She watched the kind man nod and walk away. Carrying his sister, he headed up the stairs of the nearby apartments and disappeared into the building.

  She looked at the man slumped over in his car in the back seat. “Jerk,” she said with distaste, and she turned and walked away, eager to tell her new, exciting story to her friends over coffee.

  **

  RAMSEY KICKED SARAH’S apartment door open with his foot after he’d managed some fancy maneuvering to get her keys out of her pocket and unlock the door. He closed the door behind him and carried her to the couch. She was still groggy but apparently aware enough to know she was in safe hands. He tried to get her to lie back on the couch so he could look her over, but she wouldn’t let go of him.

  “Sarah? Hey, let go. I need to get a look at you.” He gently pried her hands loose from his shoulders. She made a moaning sound he didn’t like, but he managed to get her settled back on the couch. He rested her head on the pillows and took a good look at her. Her head had a nice bump on it and she had a scrape on her cheek, but no other outward damage that he could tell. She was hot, likely feverish, but she wasn’t sweating. Not a good sign. Her eyes were open, but unfocused, like she didn’t know where she was or what was happening.

  He got up from her side and headed to the kitchen. He went through the pantry and drawers until he found two dish towels and a sealable plastic bag. He grabbed some ice, put it in the bag, and wrapped a towel around it. He wet the other towel in the sink and wrung out the excess water. He brought both over and wiped her face to cool her,
then placed the ice on the bump on her head. He rested the wet towel on her forehead.

  “Sarah, can you hear me?” He tried to get her to focus. He needed her to be able to respond to him, but she continued with that glazed look and the occasional moan. He didn’t know why she remained dazed and semi-conscious. The bump on her head appeared minor. She should be pissed, scared, upset, something more communicative than this. Despite being grabbed and almost thrown into a car, she had escaped relatively unscathed. What else could cause this? Was she in shock?

  He went to grab his phone, but stopped. He thought for a moment, reviewing the incident in his mind. Stupid that he hadn’t considered it. He looked over her exposed skin and saw nothing on her arms or legs. He lifted her shirt and saw nothing on her stomach. He gently rolled her over so that he could lift her shirt from behind, and that was when his suspicions were confirmed. Angry red lines flared out from a center point on her back.

  “Damn,” he said. Apparently, Grandpa had hit her with a good jolt in order to subdue her. As a result, she couldn’t stay conscious and her other symptoms were escalating as well. He couldn’t keep her here. The danger was evident. He couldn’t be sure, either, if the Good Samaritan on the street wouldn’t change her mind and call the cops anyway. Plus, Grandpa wouldn’t be out of it for much longer.

  He picked up the phone and dialed Leroy’s number.

  “Sherlock? How’s it going? Having fun yet?” said the voice that picked up the line.

  “You have no idea how much. You at the house?”

  “No, why?” asked Leroy.

  “I’ve got a patient, and I need to bring her in. Now.”

  There was a brief pause and Ramsey imagined all the questions likely running through Leroy’s head. “I’m on my way,” said Leroy, apparently opting to wait for answers until later. The line went dead.

  Ramsey put the phone back in his pocket and went to the bed and grabbed a blanket. He wrapped Sarah in it as best he could. Then he inspected the apartment for the items he would need. He found a bag and threw some essentials into it. Anything he thought she would take if she left on a short trip. He went to the bathroom and grabbed some toiletries. He made her bed and took out the trash, being careful not to be noticed in case there were any nosy neighbors. Finding her phone, he turned it off and grabbed her charger. He packed her laptop and the book by the side of her bed. He threw all the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on.