“I’m glad things are going well out there,” Paul said.
“It sounds like you have something on your mind,” Samantha said.
“No, not really. I mean you get a weekend in Denver, and I get, you know, a weekend here.”
“Did you remember to pick up Julie?”
“I’m about to do that now,” Paul said grabbing his jacket.
“Better hurry, you don’t want to keep her waiting too long. She’ll never let you live it down.”
“That’s not funny, Sam, because that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
“Just take it easy and I’ll be back on Monday,” Samantha said. A coworker signaled to her from in front of their expo booth. She straightened her company polo shirt and took a quick look at her Motorola employee badge that hung around her neck.
Paul held the entrance door open, ready to lock up.
“I was just thinking earlier, you know, about what we had talked about.” Paul paused.
He didn’t hear anything on the other line.
“You still there?” he asked.
“Sorry, I’m still here,” Samantha said, distracted. “They’re just calling me back to our booth.”
“I was just saying that I’ve been thinking about it, and if it’s something you want to do--if it’s something you’re ready for--then I’m ready for it too.”
A bright smile came to Samantha’s face. “Do you mean it?” she asked.
“Of course I mean it,” Paul said.
“I’m so glad to hear that. You have no idea how relieved I am.”
“I mean, it’s a big step, but you’re right, it’s now or never.”
A man at the Motorola booth waved Samantha over again.
“Listen, honey, I’ve got to go.”
“That’s fine. I know you’re busy. Don’t worry about us this weekend, we’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Gotta go, I love you.”
“Love you too,” Paul said.
Samantha hung up and strolled back to her expo booth. A small team of college kids in their twenties wearing Motorola shirts gathered around her.
“Alright everyone,” she said. “We have an hour remaining. Let’s give it our best. Don’t forget about the contact information.”
The team, all holding clipboards, nodded and listened attentively.
“After we’re done, we can all grab a drink afterwards.”
The team smiled.
“You buying?” a boy who looked to be a freshman in college asked.
“The first round, sure,” Samantha said.
The group dispersed in different directions in their quest to spread the benefits of Motorola’s latest technology. Samantha brushed her dark shoulder-length hair back behind her ears. She had recently gotten it cut and wasn’t used to the shorter length. Her hair was a dark brown, nearly black. Her Japanese-American features were alluring to the casual eye, and it was hard for some to place a specific ethnicity by her appearance alone.
Paul said that she was beautiful, though he had said it less and less as the years went by. He insisted that the compliment wasn’t hyperbole, but scientific fact. The first time was on their date, and it was evident through the times that she caught Paul staring at her in wonder, even after their marriage. Throughout the years, she had to admit that he constantly made her feel special. Now there was the notion of having another child, a thought both exalting and terrifying.
“He’s okay with it,” she said with a breath of relief.
Paul locked the front door to the shop from the outside. He zipped his jacket up. Though sunny, it was chilly for September. The other neighboring shops were closing for the day, as they generally did on Friday afternoons. While shop owners closed their doors, local pubs opened theirs. It was the time of day when they set up tables and chairs on the patio areas outside in anticipation of happy hour. The roads through town were moderately busy, full of tired commuters trying to get home. Paul’s four-door Volkswagen Passat was parked in a nearby lot designated for the local shops. He walked down the sidewalk feeling oddly content with the day, as if a good mood had momentarily passed through him. Maybe it was because it was the weekend. Of course, he would be working tomorrow, probably the busiest day of the week, but he could never feel bad about a Saturday--working or not. It was just a good day of the week.
For the past year, the old town had meant doom to him. He hated having to come back here. To live here. To raise a family here. But this weekend, he thought, all of those thoughts were going to go away. It could have had something to do with the interview he had earlier in the week with an out-of-state IT firm, or it could have had something to do with his and Samantha’s decision to have another child. Their first child. True, there was Julie, but she was Samantha’s daughter from her last relationship. Their next child would be his own, if everything worked out okay. He worried about the complications Samantha had told him she had with Julie.
From across the street, two men dressed in dark, three-piece suits sat on the front patio of a coffee shop sipping lattes. They appeared glaringly out-of-state to any resident of Beech Creek. One of the men had a silver goatee, sunglasses, and a fedora hat. He watched Paul walk down the sidewalk to his car. He then signaled his associate--a built and stocky man wearing a similar suit, minus the hat.
“I think that’s our boy,” he said, nodding his head towards Paul’s direction.
“Ready whenever you are,” the big associate said back.
“Just remember, it’s a tightly-knit town. Everyone knows everyone around here.”
With that, the two men sipped their lattes, set their cups down, and stood up. Goatee man tossed a few bucks on the table and they were off.
Paul pushed the button on his key to remotely unlock the driver’s side door. He heard the “click” of the automatic locks. As he opened the door, he sensed someone standing behind him and turned to be met by the goatee man and his large associate standing by. Paul jumped.
“Wow, you scared the crap out of me. Can I help you?” Paul asked, with a tinge of annoyance to his tone.
“Sorry there, friend, didn’t mean to startle you,” goatee man said with a smile. His eyes were concealed by the dark lenses of his sunglasses. “Maybe you can help us. Are you William Hoffman?”
Paul examined the two men carefully. Maybe they were friends of Bill’s. Maybe even family. They looked to Paul as if they were going to a funeral. Regardless, he didn’t like the air of shadiness they exuded.
“Who wants to know?” he asked.
Goatee man offered Paul a handshake, which he mildly reciprocated.
“Where are my manners?” the man asked. “I’m Edwin, this is my associate, Greg.”
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” Paul asked.
“We’re looking for William Hoffman,” Edwin answered.
Paul rested his arm against the driver’s side door, ready to enter the car. “Bill Hoffman? That’s my boss. He’s not here right now.”
Edwin looked at Paul, surprised, even with his eyes carefully concealed. “And what’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking,” he asked.
Paul looked back to the large associate, Greg, standing behind Edwin not saying a word. “My name’s Paul. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have to get going.”
“Where can we find your boss?”
“Did you try his house?” Paul asked, growing more anxious to leave the scene by the minute.
“Yes, we did. The place looks about as vacant as the Bates Motel.”
Paul laughed slightly. “I haven’t seen Bill for a good month, so there’s not much I can do to help.”
“He’s a hard man to find,” Edwin said as he held Paul’s door open, preventing him from shutting it. Paul felt his flight instincts kick in with the uncomfortable tension in the air.
“I told you that I need to be going now,” Paul said as he bypassed Edwin’s arms to enter the car. Once inside, he slammed the door shut. Paul felt nervous and shook up. Fo
r a moment he didn’t even know how to start the car. “What the fuck?” he said to himself, feeling dazed.
Edwin and Greg remained outside the car looking in. Edwin tapped on the driver’s side window. Paul lowered the window a crack after starting the car.
“It’s very important that we find your boss today,” Edwin said.
“What is this about?” Paul asked. He placed one hand on the steering wheel and clutched the gearshift in the middle console with his other hand.
“We’re old friends from out of town, dropping by for the weekend,” Edwin said.
“I would suggest trying his cell phone. I honestly have no idea where he is,” Paul said.
“How about a lucky guess?” Edwin asked.
“Best of luck to you gentlemen,” Paul answered with a quick nod in Edwin’s direction. The window went up; Paul put the car in reverse and backed out.
“Don’t let him leave,” Edwin said to Greg.
Greg nodded and reached into his pocket. Suddenly, right outside the parking lot, a police car drove by, slowing down as it passed the parking lot.
“Wait,” Edwin said. They took keen notice of the car.
“Just follow me,” Edwin said. The two men walked away and moved in the opposite direction. Paul felt relieved as they left. The confrontation had rattled him. He steered the Passat towards the parking lot exit and onto the main road.
“We need to follow that little prick,” Edwin said, looking back as they fled to a nearby alley. “He’s lying to us about something. I just know it. Remember, Mr. Bennett said to bring back the money or his head.”
“You think he was serious about the head part?” Greg asked.
“You ever knew the man to tell a joke?” Edwin asked.
“No. I guess I haven’t.”
“He’s not the joking type. Trust me.”
Paul drove through downtown still shaken. He didn’t know where the two men had come from, but he was sure that they weren’t locals. He looked at his phone. It was 4:10 p.m. Julie’s practice had ended at 3:30. He hoped that she wouldn’t be upset. He needed some calmness after his confrontation with the two seemingly menacing men from out of town. It was a miracle that Julie hadn’t called him yet. Normally she wouldn’t have let five minutes go by without reminding him. He didn’t want to start the entire weekend off on a bad note. It would be just the two of them, that is, if she didn’t go to a friend’s house or something.
“Does she even have friends?” Paul thought. “Of course she does. What twelve-year-old girl doesn’t have a couple of friends? Plus, she’s on the soccer team.”
Paul picked up his phone to call her. It would at least soften the blow. The call went to voicemail. Paul hung up.
“I tried,” he said.
He neared Providence Street, only a few miles away from her middle school. Traffic had thinned out and, for the most part, it was smooth sailing to the school. Paul glanced in his rearview mirror and noticed a dark blue Lincoln Town Car trailing him. It had been following him for miles. He hated when a car followed him for too long. It was annoying in the way that he always thought it was a cop at first, or the way he didn’t know whether to slow down or speed up. He’d pull over to the side of the road and let them pass if he didn’t have to get to the school so quickly. As an experiment, Paul increased his speed from forty to fifty miles per hour. The car remained steadily on his tail. The Lincoln trailed him at such a distance as not to be obvious. It remained two or three car lengths behind. Paul slowed down, nearing the school zone. To his right was Discovery Cove Middle School, an unfenced area of one-story brick buildings.
From the main gate, Julie usually met him at a nearby curb where there was a shaded bench area. It was nice because Paul didn’t even have to enter the school to get her. Today was no exception. Paul saw her seated on the bench, in her soccer uniform, clutching a burgundy-colored book bag. She was talking to three other girls.
“Maybe she’s making plans for a sleepover at their house,” Paul thought. “I could really use the house to myself this weekend.”
Paul pulled up to the curb. The Lincoln slowly passed as Paul felt vindicated. He tried to get a better look into the car, but couldn’t make anything out beyond the dark tint. Julie opened the door and jumped into the passenger’s seat. She slammed it shut as if upset. Paul prepared to apologize for his lateness, but Julie beat him to the punch. His tardiness was the last thing on her mind.
“Turn on the radio, now,” she ordered.
Paul was taken by surprise. “Huh? Why?”
Julie ignored him and turned the radio on herself. She flipped through several channels to a reporter’s voice discussing a terrorist attack. Paul pulled back onto the road, trying to pay attention to what the reporter was saying.
“Multiple casualties…massive injuries…the worst terrorist attack since September 11, 2001.”
“What happened?” he asked Julie.
“Terrorists blew up Wall Street,” Julie said. “It just happened like thirty minutes ago.”
Chapter Three
A Distant Blast
“How do they know it was terrorists?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know, Paul. Bombs don’t blow themselves up, do they?” Julie replied.
“I know that. What exactly did you hear? And why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
Julie rolled her eyes.
“My phone is dead. I forgot to plug it in last night and that’s that. But when I was waiting for you, for like the past ten hours, one of the girls showed me some updates on her phone.”
She glanced to the console below the stereo panel where Paul’s phone sat.
“Let me see yours,” she said, grabbing it.
“Easy there,” Paul said.
“Just listen to the radio,” Julie said waving him off.
Paul turned the dial up on the radio.
“This is ABC News, bringing you an update on the Wall Street Bombing. Officials have now reported that at approximately 3:30 p.m. a premeditated blast occurred on the busy floor of the New York Stock Exchange, thirty minutes prior to the closing bell. Dozens of first responders stormed the scene and did their best to contain and minimize the damage. At this point, there are twenty people confirmed dead and over seventy-five injured. The Stock Exchange has been sealed off from the public and police have blocked the area within a five-mile radius. For the first time in American history, the financial sector of Wall Street has been shut down until further notice. This news puts the financial world and the nation’s economy in deep uncertainty. Officials are instructing residents to stay away from the area until further notice.”
“Absolutely insane,” Paul said.
Julie was busy navigating Paul’s phone, trying to find some more information. Paul looked ahead then glanced into his rearview mirror. There was a familiar-looking car trailing them. The sight was unreal; however, there was no denying what was there. The blue Lincoln was back.
“You see that car?” he said to Julie, as if confiding in her.
“Huh?” Julie asked as she scrolled through different apps on his phone.
“Look behind us,” Paul said. Annoyed, Julie looked out the rear of the car.
“Don’t let them see you,” Paul said quickly. “Just look in your side mirror.”
Julie turned back around and sighed. “What’s your problem? Who cares?”
“Just don’t make it too obvious, okay?”
“Who would want to follow you anyway?” Julie asked. “You’re like the most boring guy on the planet.”
“And that’s exactly how I like it,” Paul said.
Julie ignored him and put her attention back to the phone. At the intersection ahead, the light went from yellow to red. Paul looked around, noticeably distracted by the car idling behind him. He stared into the rearview mirror and tried to identify the passengers. There were two men that looked similar to the ones who had confronted him in the parking lot.
“Son of a bitch,�
�� Paul said.
Julie looked to Paul and shook her head. Her thumbs moved a mile-a-minute across the phone’s touch screen.
“Yep, definitely a terrorist attack. That’s what they’re saying now,” she said.
Paul was noticeably distracted. The light turned green. Julie’s attention was on the phone in the middle of a texting fury with some friends. A light honk from the Lincoln caused her to look up.
“Hey, the light’s green,” she said.
Paul jumped out of his daze. He hit the gas pedal and they raced through the intersection as the Lincoln followed.
“We need to stop at the store,” Julie said.
“Why?” Paul asked.
His feelings about stopping were mixed. If they were being followed, this would bring direct confrontation. But they might also be safer given the large Friday afternoon crowd. Another news update came on the radio. Paul turned the volume knob louder.
“The President is expected to address the situation within the next hour. Officials are scrambling for details as no terrorist groups have claimed responsibility. The Wall Street Bombing occurred around 3:30 p.m. this afternoon. Thirty are now reported dead and over seventy-five injured. The Department of Homeland Security has indefinitely elevated the threat level in the United States through The National Terrorism Advisory System. This could mean several changes to flight travel, border security, street routes, and bridges within major cities. New York City public officials are asking for cooperation and vigilance from its residents during this tragic and trying time.
Paul’s phone vibrated in Julie’s hands.
“You just got a terror alert,” Julie said.
“Took them long enough,” Paul answered.
His mind was everywhere. He tried to make sense of the radio reports but couldn’t shake the thought of the car following him. He felt violated, nearing contempt. Who the hell were those two men to be following him about town? It was time to give them a piece of his mind. And if they persisted, Paul would drive straight to the police station.
End Days Super Boxset Page 115