by Ho, Jo
To fill in the silence, Mom had tuned onto a radio station. The music played now, a pop number that was really familiar, but for some reason, I couldn't think what it was. I had a photographic memory so forgetting song lyrics happened to me literally never. I frowned, trying to concentrate.
What the heck was this song?
I leaned back into my seat when I noticed that I was feeling drowsy, which was weird as I had only recently got up. My head started feeling heavy like it was too big for my neck. I glanced behind me to see that Bandit was nodding off too.
And suddenly I felt a cold feeling in my stomach.
Sweat broke across my brow as the fear hit. I looked at my mom and saw the way her hands gripped the wheel. Her shoulders were tense, and she kept her eyes on the road ahead as if she was determined not to look at me.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had drugged us.
"What did you put in the food?" I managed to exclaim, even as my tongue felt like it was pinned to the roof of my mouth.
She looked at me then, guilt all over her face.
"I'm sorry. I had to do it."
Anything else she said I couldn’t hear.
Blackness took over and I felt myself sinking into oblivion.
54
The Scientist
The call came right on cue.
The woman, Tracey Blueman phoned to say the girl and dog were leaving with her as planned. She would drug them and meet us at the arranged location. The Scientist felt his excitement build as he waited for her car to arrive. For more than six months he had carefully set out his chess pieces, planning for this moment, and now that it was almost here, a warm feeling spread through his body.
"This is so exciting, Xavier!” Dick said.
He tried to hide his flicker of annoyance. Dick was Xavier’s assistant, a student he had picked up in his science class. There was one like him every year. Quiet, shy, and lonely, he sat at the back of the class, never raised his hand, ate alone in the canteen, and had no friends to speak of. He had noticed him straight away. Every time he had seen him in passing, the boy had had a nose in a textbook. It was his armor against a world that had yet to notice him.
But notice him it hadn't.
And that wasn't really surprising. Of medium height, he had a slim build. His hair was not quite blonde yet not dark enough to be brown. He wore thick glasses to correct heavy short-sightedness, but the lenses enlarged his eyes to comical effect making him seem like an owl in appearance.
It hadn't taken much to turn him. All Xavier had to do was notice him and toss out a kind word here or there. Within a few months of Xavier implementing his plan, Dick had become his willing accomplice.
Raised by a family who didn't understand him, Dick wasn't close to his parents who seemed happy that their son was now across the country at college. They were so far away that it made no economic sense for Dick to go home even for the holiday season. It was during the summer vacation when Xavier began his plan in earnest. Throughout the semester, he had invited Dick into his home under the guise of helping with his science experiments, but the reality was, Xavier was grooming him, but Dick was too stupid, too desperate for approval to notice. He started lightly, using hypothetical questions to see how far he could push the boy and Dick had lapped it up like a dog, never suspecting a thing.
It was Dick who had sent Sullivan that message on his phone using an application that made it look as if it had come from his dead wife’s phone, and Dick who had disturbed the grave. This part of the plan was actually Dick’s idea, and Xavier had found it quite devious and brilliant. He would never tell him that, however. To keep Dick under his control, Xavier only ever complimented him when absolutely necessary; it was part of the brainwashing process. Dick was so starving for approval he would do all that Xavier wanted without complaint.
Dick smiled at Xavier now, causing splotches of red to appear across his neck and cheeks which only made his acne seem ten times worse. Xavier tried not to let the sight of them disgust him as they always did. Had the boy never heard of Proactiv? He nodded. "Let’s not get too excited until she actually gets here."
They waited in his Prius, in the car park of a Walmart, as Xavier thought back to his first visit with Tracey Blueman.
He had initially learned of her identity through the reports Forbes’ mercenary had compiled. Though Hector wasn't someone he liked or ever had dealings with himself, he had to admit the man excelled at his job — up until the very end, anyway.
In Hector's files, Xavier had learned who the girl Chase was, who her parents were and what kind of life she had lived. Her mother was a person of low moral fiber. Reading about her relationship with the alcoholic and seeing how cheaply they lived, Xavier knew she could be bought, so he wasn't at all surprised when she had agreed to his deal so willingly… Some people just didn't make good parents. He himself knew that better than most. His own had never wanted a child. They were partygoers, selfish to the core and only ever wheeled him out as a freak to be admired or feared. They couldn't wait to send him away to boarding school where they no longer had to deal with the inconvenience of his being there.
Xavier hated them with a vengeance.
The plan had come together quite simply with the only hiccup appearing when Tracey Blueman had called, worrying over how she would be able to separate the girl and the dog away from the rest of the family. Again, it was Dick who had come up with the idea for the fake robbery. He felt that for Chase to help her mother — who she was clearly resentful of — something bad would need to happen to her. There was too much history between them, but having studied footage of the girl at home, Dick had seen that the girl was inherently kind, and they had quickly used that failing against her. If Xavier actually cared one bit for the Dick, he would have encouraged him into the field of psychology as science was very clearly wasted on him. As it was, Xavier didn’t waste energy on simple emotions such as like or dislike.
A car turned into the parking lot. A beaten up Toyota with a woman behind the wheel. Xavier sat up a little taller.
"Is that her?" Dick asked in his nasal voice.
Xavier leaned forward in his seat, straining to get a better look. "I don't know."
The car parked, and the woman got out. Xavier recognized her cheap clothes and desperation immediately. "That's her."
They got out of the car and crossed the parking lot to meet her. She tossed a nervous look in the direction of her car where they could now see the dog and girl sleeping soundly. Wringing her hands, she greeted them. “I did my part, now where’s the money?”
Though this was the agreement, her lack of concern for her own child disgusted him. Xavier’s gaze hardened as he gestured to Dick. "Please hand Ms. Blueman her payment."
Dick went to the trunk of Xavier's car, opened it and took out a large canvas sports bag. Inside, divided into blocks of five hundred, was one hundred thousand dollars in cash; Xavier had counted it all himself. It had taken a lifetime to save up that much money. Despite his parents' wealth, they had never shared any of their fortune with him, neither had Forbes, and Xavier had always been too proud to ask either for help. And now, here was this trailer trash, selling off her child for only one hundred thousand dollars. His mouth curled into a sneer that he didn’t bother to hide.
Tracey Blueman snatched the bag out of Dick's hands. She yanked down the zip to check the contents inside. When she saw the bills, her eyes went wide with greed. "It's all here?" she asked.
"Of course it is," Xavier replied, annoyed. "I do not go back on my word."
She took the hefty bag from them and tossed it into the boot of her car. Then she opened the door to the back seat.
"Dick, if you would be so kind..." Xavier said.
Dick jumped to attention. Leaning in, he slid his arms under the unconscious dog and carried him to Xavier's car where he set him down inside a cage on the backseat. Next Dick went over to the girl and carried her to the car where he positioned her next to t
he cage. The woman looked at her daughter, her guilt, and shame obvious to see.
"She’s going to be okay, right? You said she wouldn't be harmed?"
"Now you are concerned for her well-being?" Xavier asked, one brow arched in question.
"You told me she wouldn't be hurt. You said you just wanted the dog for your science experiment,” she replied.
"And I meant it. The girl will be returned to her family." Xavier put an emphasis on the word “family.”
The woman flinched as Xavier intended for her to. She bit her lip unsure then and looked at the girl again. Her hesitation and mistrust began to grate on him. He’d had enough of this woman now and was itching to get away.
"We had a deal Ms. Blueman. You have your money now, so please leave or we will be forced to take it all back."
The threat worked as expected. She recoiled physically from him, moving quickly to the driver's seat. Climbing in, she put her hand on the key in the ignition.
“I’m sorry, Chase,” she whispered.
Casting one last look at the daughter that she was leaving behind, she turned the key. And as the engine roared into life, she pressed down on the gas and drove away.
55
The Scientist
They headed west, away from this Godforsaken pathetic town.
Xavier had already packed away Erik-the-IT-man’s things, leaving no trace of him behind. For several weeks before his initial “move” here, he had scoped out the town, making copious notes as to the family’s routine. As he had hoped, it was fairly consistent. The Sheriff worked eight to five on weekdays most weeks, doing the occasional weekend shift as and when it was required. The young boy — a new hire to the town’s garage — worked nine to six. Sullivan seemed to spend a majority of his time just doing things around the ranch, or rehabbing his leg under his father’s watchful eye. Which left Chase, who came into the town daily with the dog to pick up the day’s groceries. It was all so mundane, so uninspired, Xavier wondered how they didn’t all kill themselves from boredom.
When the mechanic’s previous tenant moved out during his stakeout, he knew it was a blessing in disguise. While he had no desire to live here, he knew he would never have a better opportunity to get so up close and personal. So, with just a handshake and a few hundred dollars cash deposit, Xavier had found himself living above the mechanic’s garage, where he could observe Chase and Gideon’s daily comings and goings.
It was masterful really. He had been right under their noses but they never suspected a thing. A laugh bubbled up in his mouth which he tried to hide under a cough. He preferred that Dick never knew his true feelings. It kept the boy on edge, which is how he wanted it.
To truly control someone, it was best to keep them on an uneven footing. They should never feel comfortable or be able to predict your reactions. Like chess, this was another game Xavier excelled in.
While Dick drove, Xavier climbed into the back of the car and performed his inspection of the specimen.
Even to his naked eye, he could see the dog was in excellent health. His coat gleamed and his eyes — well, what he could see of them — were bright. Clearly, this dog was not lacking in any physical comforts. The girl and her friends had served him well.
Xavier moved the fur around the dog’s head until he felt the raised scar behind his skull. This was where Forbes' doctor had opened him up. When she had removed the tumor that had originally been placed inside his brain to stimulate trauma.
When Xavier had first learned of this plan, he had thought it ludicrous, but it amused him now that his own breakthrough required the use of this one small dog. He needed what the dog had to complete his own experiment.
He was so close to making history he could barely contain himself. All he needed was to see how the dog's brain had reorganized itself, how it had healed itself, and he could get his experiment to do the same. In addition to seeing into his brain, he wanted to investigate the dog’s DNA helix and find what code might be added or missing in order for his body to be as it was.
If what he was proposing worked, he would become the most famous man in history.
Not, that fame was what he was after, of course. He only wanted the world to recognize his genius and treat him accordingly. Once he made history, he knew his parents would come crawling back to him — and he couldn’t wait to tell them where to go.
If it wasn't for their precious cargo, he would instruct the hapless Dick to drive faster. As it was, Xavier willed the boy to drive more carefully than he had done in his entire life.
56
Sully
I don't know how long I stood there under that damn tree.
Sam had said her piece and just like that, she was gone. I was left reeling. Despite my turmoil of the last few days, I was in love with Sam and had planned on our future together. Now, not only had that future vanished in a cloud of dust, it looked like I wouldn't even have her in my life. I couldn't collate what had just happened with my life. Only yesterday we were looking at baby clothes, but Sully Jr was now a distant dream.
I forced my feet to move. In autopilot, I walked back to my car and climbed in. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered my phone had rung during our conversation. I took out my cell to see a missed call from Chase. She had left a voicemail. Numbly, I listened as her voice came over the line. She was saying something about going with her mom to a woman’s shelter. If this was any other day, I would have called right back and said exactly why that might not be a good idea, but I could barely get the fog that was clouding my mind to lift long enough for coherent thoughts to surface. Bandit was with her and I was sure they were fine. All I could think about was getting home. What if Sam were packing right now? Maybe I could persuade her not to leave.
Energized by the thought, I gunned the engine and drove home as fast as I could.
When I got to the ranch, I couldn't see Sam's car, but she parked it around the back at times so it didn't necessarily mean she wasn’t here. I knew my brain was in complete denial of events, but I didn’t care. I was holding onto whatever thought I could to get by. Getting out of the car, I didn't bother shutting the door. I just bolted inside.
The ranch was deathly silent. I listened for signs of any movement but all was suffocatingly still. "Pixie?" I called out. My voice echoed around, sounding strange and desperate to my own ears. I had no idea what I was doing. Even if the dog knew her name, it wasn’t as if she would answer me. She wasn’t Bandit.
With a sinking heart, I turned towards our room. From the corner of my eye, my mind registered a fact that seemed a little odd. I glanced into the living room to find dad’s wheelchair in the corner of the room. Of the man himself, he was nowhere to be seen.
Strange.
Frowning, I changed course and headed into the living room. As I grew closer, I saw the glass on the floor.
The decorative bowl that usually sat on the table had smashed and now lay in several pieces on the scratched floorboards. The coffee table that previously housed the bowl was askew like someone had bumped it. My heart started to race as it suddenly came to me that something was terribly wrong. I fished out my phone, preparing to call the others when I saw a boot sticking out from behind the sofa. Made of a tan leather, it had the mismatched laces that Chase often laughed about.
It was my dad’s boot.
57
Sully
Sprinting forward, I finally saw him. He was lying on the ground. Unconscious.
"Dad!" I cried.
He didn't move.
There was an angry gash on the side of his head where I suspected it had hit the floor. I felt for a pulse and was relieved to find one. Quickly, I ran my hands over his body to see if I could find anything broken or out of alignment. As far as I could tell, the only injury he had was the one to his head.
Unless of course there was something wrong with him on the inside.
The thought filled me with dread.
I was wondering if it would be safe to mo
ve him when I saw there was something gripped in his hand. Prying it open, I found some kind of gadget inside. It took a while before I realized I was looking at a spy cam, the kind people put inside toy bears when they left their child at home with a new babysitter.
What the hell? Where had he gotten that from?
I didn’t have time to worry over the spy cam, however, I needed to get him help.
“Gideon? Sam? Are you here?” I yelled out, hoping desperately that one of them would answer my call. Only silence greeted me.
Carefully, I picked him up and carried him to the back of my truck. I didn’t put him in the passenger seat as I had no idea what damage he might have inside of him. I couldn’t risk there being an issue with his neck or his unconscious body falling forward and hitting the dashboard.
Running back inside, I grabbed several of the quilts my mom had made when I was a kid and ran back out with them. Rolling them into tight rolls, I wedged them securely around him as best I could.
I could call for an ambulance, but the nearest hospital was a forty minute drive away, and I knew I could get him there faster if I drove myself.
Forgetting all about Sam and Chase, I shot off to Memorial Hospital.
58
Sully
I sat in the waiting room anxiously tapping my foot on the ground.
It had been at least an hour since I'd arrived at the hospital and the doctors had taken over. I watched as they placed my dad onto a gurney and wheeled him away. Although I had checked with the front desk multiple times, there was nothing to report. The receptionist, a woman with unruly hair and eyes that looked too big for her face, assured me that as soon as there was any news, I would be given it. I knew that was crap. It was the line they gave people to keep them away. Florence had used it herself back at the clinic to spare me having to deal with concerned parents. There was nothing I could do but wait.