Sandi stopped and watched Isaac outside. “He’s so happy. I’m glad you two are doing well in San Diego, with your job and church and friends.”
Paige smiled.
Sandi cleared her throat. She smiled and turned to Paige, “Any nice men down over there?”
Paige said playfully, “Yeah, they’re good tippers.”
“Oh, you know that’s not what I mean.”
“That’s why I said it, mom.” Paige tried to busy herself with some plates.
“I’m sure there’s got to be some nice men. How about in your church?”
“Yeah, lots of them. Many married. The single ones are very nice…very helpful, but not so interested, when they find out there’s a son in my life.”
Just then, a white four-door car pulled up into the driveway. With its trunk sticking out into the street, it stopped behind Paige’s car. Isaac and his cousins slowed their play and waved at the passengers inside.
“Well,” Sandi continued, as she watched the car outside come to a stop, “you’ll probably find someone when you’re not looking. Or he’ll find you when he’s not looking.”
“Well, mom,” Paige replied with resolve, “I’m not lookin’. And it’s probably best that I give my full attention to Isaac to make sure he grows up to be a responsible young man.”
Brooke was Paige’s identical twin. She opened the passenger door of the car, and Isaac ran to her. Joyful and excited, Brooke knelt down and gave him a long hug and a kiss.
Paige gazed up from the dishes. She saw her mother focus her attention at the car outside. She moved her eyes to look through the kitchen window, and with surprise in her voice she said, “Brooke? Hey, Brooke finally made it!”
Brooke’s husband exited the car and their seven-year-old daughter and five-year-old son leapt out of the back.
Paige quickly set the dishes down, dried her hands, and followed her mother out the front door. Outpacing her mother, Paige reached her sister first. Excited, the twins hugged each other tightly. Paige exclaimed, “Hey! You’re here! I feel complete!”
“Yeah, me too!” Brooke responded with twinkling eyes. “Look, mom. Don’t we look the same again, with our old hair style?” The two turned and posed for their mother.
Sandi walked up to greet and hug her daughter, “Oh, you’re both so beautiful! And I can barely tell you apart.”
Brooke glanced back and saw her husband take a suitcase from the trunk of the car. “Hey, mom?” she asked. “We booked a hotel room. But the kids were pleading so much to spend the night here and play with Isaac and the rest of the kids. Do you think we can all fit in the house?” She asked the question loud enough for her daughter and son, who stood nearby, to hear. But then, she leaned into her mother’s ear, and as she whispered, Paige moved in to listen. Brooke said, “Just say there’s not enough room, mom.”
But Paige said, “Oh sure. There’s a lot of room! You two can take the room we used to share, our brothers can each take their old rooms, and I can sleep on the couch in the living room, with the kids on the floor. We’ll have a party, come on!”
Brooke was happy that her sister volunteered for couch duty, but she showed her concern nonetheless, “Are you sure?”
Paige reassured, “Yeah, no problem. This way, we can all be together for Thanksgiving.”
Sandi approved and laughed, “Oh! That would just make my decade!”
Brooke announced, “Alright kids, we’re spending the night!”
All the children cheered.
After more hugs and smiles and greetings, the kids ran off to play in the yard, and the adults made their way into the house.
* * * * * * *
Later, the sun was setting.
The frame of scene could have been straight from a “50s movie. At the left half of the frame was the chromed bumper and front grill of his Mustang, with its red hood, shining grill and white-walled tires. At the center of the frame, he stood and leaned against the driver’s side door, with his foot raised and his black shoe up against the car. His arms wrapped snugly around Dancy’s waist, pulling her close.
Dancy leaned against him with her arms around his neck. Then, she rested her head on his chest, facing toward the front of the Mustang.
Both wore white t-shirts and faded blue jeans. His shirt was tucked out. Her shirt was petite and cut short, revealing her slender waist.
Across the street was Dancy’s apartment complex. They were saying their good-byes, before he headed back home.
Dancy breathed a deep sigh. She could hear the strong steady beat of his heart against her ear. “Sweetie pie,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” he whispered back.
“I hope you’re not too sad about the game.”
“That’s ok. I guess I’ve come to expect it…the disappointment. It’s all part of being a fan in this city. I love this team. The players wanna win. We all wanna win. But sometimes, when it really counts, it just doesn’t happen.” He continued, “There’s always next week. Right?”
She moved her arms from around his neck then down to his waist and hugged him tightly. “Baby cakes,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” he whispered back.
“Remember when I told you I was trying to make a big decision about what I wanted to do?”
“Yeah…”
She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “I’ve got some bad news…”
He smiled warmly and whispered, “That’s ok. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
Dancy lowered her head and rested it on his chest once again. She closed her eyes and said softly, “I’ve decided to take a chance and move…take those classes in New York.”
He breathed in deep and kissed her head. Then, he thought about how Dancy was his first relationship after the death of his wife. He had believed that taking the first step away from the past would be so difficult, but with Dancy it was so fast and so natural. However, he was willing to let her go, and it was something in Dancy that gave him this strength and confidence to do so. “That’s good. That’s a good move to make,” he assured her. “This is gonna pave the way for a better future for ya.”
With her eyes still closed, she asked, “Ya think so?”
“Of course I do.”
Dancy sighed again, and then opened her eyes. With another whisper, she said, “I don’t know what this means for us.”
He leaned back to see her face. She felt him move and responded by lifting her head to look up at him.
Softly he said, “Why don’t we just roll with it and see what happens?”
Dancy closed her eyes and kissed him. Then, she leaned her head back down on his chest, hugged him tightly, and sighed deeply once more. She knew it was better for her to take this step in her life, but she wasn’t sure if she actually had the resolve to move in that direction. With him reassuring her, it began to give her the confidence she needed to go.
For him, he felt at peace, believing that no matter what the future entailed, things would work out for the better, for both of them, either separately or together. Lightheartedly, he thought, Whoa, my rebound girl is about to take off, but I’m not clingy, and instead I’m cool with it. That’s gotta be some milestone, huh? Then, he gave her a quiet laugh, saying, “Chargers lose on a nation-wide televised game and now this?” He kissed the top of her forehead again and whispered, with a grin, “I’m dyin’ here, babe.”
Dancy smiled. Then with one remaining question, she said quietly, “Baby love…”
“Yeah?”
She paused and fell momentarily silent. Then, she asked with hidden concern, “Are you still under my spell?”
He smiled and pulled her in tightly. “I’m powerless over it.”
The following morning, he put on a pair of jeans and a dark pullover. He felt like taking a walk, on the beach at Powerhouse Park.
The sky was overcast.
It was the day after Thanksgiving and he wanted to take some time to clear his mind, for just a little while, of the eve
nts happening in his life, and from the news Dancy had given him. He kept his music player at home and just wanted to hear the ocean and the wind.
He realized he had come a long way, being able to handle having Dancy move away. He was also able to keep his head above water, both with his new abilities and with the harrowing trials that the strange and mysterious hooded man was making him go through.
When his walk was done, his thoughts had cleared, and he felt content. Going back to his Mustang, he opened the door to enter it. As he did, a vision quickly came to him, appearing as if it were being projected upon the very surface of his eyes:
The sun was hot.
The dry dirt echoed a thud with each frantic stride of someone’s boots. The shrubs and trees of the mountainside did not move; the wind did not blow.
Gul’s lungs heaved, as they struggled to try to take in, as much as possible, of the rarified dry air. His arms quickly pushed aside the bushes and tree branches that blocked his hectic path.
Far behind him was the opening of the cave, and he dashed away from it in fear.
Panting and stumbling, Omar Malshar Gul ran for his life to evade capture.
He didn’t yet have the control and the concentration to keep separate the vision itself from what he truly saw in front of him. The vision contended and conflicted with his real sight of the vehicles on the road, and of the people making their way to the beach.
He staggered back half a step, and then, holding onto the car door, regained his balance. As swiftly as he could, he slid onto the front seat and closed the door.
Again he saw Gul, but this time two other men were in pursuit.
He had to question it, “So, is this happening right now? Or not?”
Leaning his head onto the steering wheel, he put his palms over his eyes and concentrated. The vision was the same, only this time, the two men were closing in.
Raising his head, he took his hands from his eyes. “I can’t take chances.”
As quickly as he could with no one watching, he disappeared, and then reappeared on the mountain far above the path upon which Gul was running in the vision. Crouching down among some bushes, he hid himself.
The sun was coming down at this side of the earth.
His mind scanned the terrain and found there was no one on the mountain.
Quickly, he focused his attention inside the cave. In the same area he had previously seen Malik Khel being beaten, Gul was there.
His mind saw Jalel cocking back his fist, and then landing it on Gul’s mouth.
As Gul reeled from the shock and pain, blood from the jagged tear in his lip spayed and splattered on the dark earth.
* * * * * * *
On the ride back from the Ghetri Museum, Stevens drove. The two agents were pleased about the fruitful trip. But it was a double-edge sword.
On one hand, it was motivating to learn the history and mythology of the symbol.
On the other, there still wasn’t a clear tie from ancient times into modern day. The gap of centuries between appearances of the symbol was not yet explained and there was no apparent reason yet for its rebirth and renewed usage.
Moreover, they still needed to formulate a theory of any significance to the two ancient and, in the director’s word, “godlike” warriors.
Stevens remarked, “Maybe Kessian is using this symbol because he just wants to imbue that godlike characteristic upon himself to meet some need for self-aggrandizement.”
With a grin, Etelson joked, “Too many big words, Rye. I’m not following.”
They decided to branch their investigation to a global perspective, hoping that it would provide more insight. It was due to one thing Dr. Skramstad said. It was when Agent Etelson asked if the director could speculate on why someone would resurrect and use the symbol in modern times. She had responded saying that the symbol was associated with great kings and great leaders during their eras of wars and global conquests. But Dr. Skramstad would be quite concerned if that context truly carried into current times.
Etelson commented, “Maybe Mr. Jarhead is merely a pawn. Remember the witnesses at the Montreme hotel who saw the hooded guy up on the roof of the opposite building?”
“Yeah, I was leaning a bit there myself,” Stevens replied. “Because I’m just not convinced that a guy like Kessian has the mind or ability to somehow create the biological and chemical complexity of the red pearl that we’ve been finding on the victims.”
Etelson’s phone rang and she picked it up, saying, “Special Agent Etelson.”
The voice on the line spoke.
Talking to Stevens, from the side of her phone, she said, “LAPD.” Then, she said to the person on the line, “Whoa. What happened to the two LAPD men guarding the door to Ms. Kaneko’s room?”
The voice explained.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she replied. After pausing, she asked, “Did you search the body? In particular, did you find in Ms. Kaneko’s ear a small glassy red object, something shaped like a red pearl?”
Stevens took his eyes briefly off the road and glanced at her.
“Ok, good,” Etelson responded, and then she added in haste, “Send the object…no, have someone fly the object ASAP - like right now - to our lab in Quantico. Alright? It’s imperative that the object gets flown quickly because an analysis on it will tell us where the next victim is going to be.”
After Etelson hung up, Stevens asked, “Gonna call Marty to be ready for it?”
Etelson began dialing her phone, “Yeah, doing that right now.” She put the phone to her ear. As she shook her head, she added, “And why the hell does he keep draining their blood?”
“Well, like I said the last time we talked about it: I’m still a little puzzled,” Stevens replied. “Because we don’t see any use of their blood anywhere, either in the crime scene or in anything we’ve found related to the crime. No blood graffiti. No wacked-out cultish blood symbols. Other than the tattooed symbol on the wrists - nothing.” Stevens shook his head then added, “I just need more data in order to further speculate.”
Wanting to add to what Stevens said, Etelson put the phone down and offered, “Well, there are blood splatters. But just splatters…they’re certainly not symbols. Because we did try to see if there were any regularity to them that could form into some kind of glyph or symbol or shape.” Etelson looked at him briefly and said, “And on another front, the lab guys couldn’t really find anything in common in the victims” blood. I’ll have “em analyze this latest one, and we’ll see if they can discover something.”
Stevens sighed, “I don’t know.” Then, he tried to offer, “Well, what about…what about because of all the vamp movies and vamp books lately…”
Etelson completed his sentence, “…that some weirdoes are just drinking the stuff? It’s possible but not likely, right? One victim’s blood was taken from the tear in the forearm, not through any vamp-like teeth puncture. And Mrs. Ackerman’s puncture wound in the neck led straight down to her heart. You need some kind of tool for that.” Then, Etelson started to giggle, “Because I personally don’t have any tooth that long. And…”
Stevens completed her sentence, “…and mainly because of the sophistication of the red pearl.” As Etelson began to dial once again, Stevens concluded, “I just don’t believe any kook-vamp-blood-sucker even has the brains.”
With the phone on her ear, Etelson replied, “Wow. You’re such a meanie name-caller, Rye. That’s so shameful.” As she started to grin, Martin T.“s voice came through the phone.
* * * * * * *
Again, Jalel cocked back his fist, and then struck Gul’s face.
The jarring blow sent Gul staggering to the side, and falling down on his knees. He momentarily blacked out. As one hand steadied on the ground, Gul tried to regain his senses. But then, the shock overcame him, and he dropped his other hand and teetered on all fours.
Jalel stood and waited, watching in satisfaction of the pain he gave. Beside him was his first lieutenant
. Just behind him on the other side was his second lieutenant. Both of them had their machineguns ready, and they had already severely beaten Gul.
There was a bloodstain on Gul’s left side, just above his waist, that was growing larger, as blood from the wound underneath it oozed out. Gul had taken all the beating and kept on his feet, standing courageously, but the last strike from Jalel had finally put him to his knees.
Of the two lanterns in the oval shaped area the men were in, one was still out from when Khel had died, but the other continued to burn bravely bright.
Gul took two, slow, deep breaths, and then poised himself on his knees. “Murderer!” he pronounced defiantly.
Out on the mountainside, the longhaired man’s anger burned. This time, he would not let fear keep him from acting. This time, there would be no death that would bury him in guilt. This time, those beating his friend and who killed Malik Khel would pay for their wrongs, in the currency of pain and blood.
His breathing quickened.
Determination opened agape the arteries of his pounding heart.
Fury manifested in the form of his iron-like clenched fists.
Unknown to Jalel and his men, someone had appeared around the bend a short distance away.
“I don’t listen to traitorous dogs,” Jalel responded in disdain.
“Murderer!” Gul yelled. “You murdered my brother Malik, and you will murder more.” Gul’s courage gave him strength to lift his head in defiance. He glared at Jalel.
Jalel sneered. Raising his foot, he extended it back and aimed for Gul’s face.
Without warning, the sole lantern providing light was extinguished.
Silence and stillness enveloped them.
For a moment no one moved, and they could only hear the sound of their own breaths.
Gul vanished, heralding the beginning of punishment for the remaining men.
Boom! The silence in their ears was shattered by a sound like loud gunfire. With it came a quick flash of blinding light, exploding the darkness, and forcing their eyes to avert and flinch in pain.
The longhaired man had turned a clump of dirt from the cave wall into pure energy, releasing the power like that of a large igniting bullet.
RB 01 Through Flesh & Bone Page 42