He began to demand to speak with his grandmother when he saw the guns lined up beneath the window. Six AK-47s, four with bump stocks. Two large black bags sat before the guns, obviously used to carry the weapons into the motel room. The man had a pistol on his waist, as did the woman with the bandana, who walked over to continue watching from the other side of the window.
William knew nothing about his grandmother’s work or who was ever on the other end of those secretive phone calls in Grandpa Tom’s office, who sent the mail that arrived for her with no return address, and who she thought of when she silently watched the trees behind her home.
But this? These people? No. Not his grandmother.
He looked over to Lily. Then again, nothing made sense.
“Are you Researchers?” he asked.
The man raised an eyebrow. “Do we look like academics?”
“Then who are you?”
“Neve, keep watching for Kevin. He should have found a place to stash the van. We got lucky that no one was outside when we snuck ‘em in. I know Kevin’s trying to be cautious.”
The woman nodded, fingering her pistol to take off the safety.
The man came to kneel in front of William. “What do you know about this girl?”
“Maybe you could start by explaining who you are—”
“We were dispatched by an organization to which your grandmother, shall we say, belongs. When word surfaced of your appearance, we were sent to keep you safe. And given what we saw, it’s a good thing we came.”
William narrowed his eyes. “You knew something would happen?”
“Keep your voice down. Let’s just say we had reason to be concerned. Let me ask you: Has Lynn Roseworth ever mentioned the SSA? Anything about them?”
The thick packages that arrived with “URGENT,” usually in red marker, arriving at his parent’s house. Swells of people that surrounded him in public bathrooms, asking for just a minute of his time to answer some questions. The social media pages run full-time by strangers that stole his picture and sent out warnings about government conspiracies. All part of the hysteria he’d hated his whole life.
The man before him reeked of it.
“What you’ve just seen should let you know that there’s a whole lot more going on than what you’ve ever known of. I can also see that you don’t believe me. Well, you tell me, then—you tell me why those federal agents were trying to take you. Why they had two helicopters filled with agents ready to bring you in at gunpoint, both at that trailer and then the airport. Agents who all wore black suits. All at the same time a little girl shows up with the ability to kill on the spot. You tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have a damn clue.”
“I think you do, Mr. Chance. I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you need to explain to me what you know about this girl and how Quincy Martin is involved.”
William did not miss the fact that the man continued to keep his finger on the trigger.
Stay calm. Keep everyone calm.
“Listen. I don’t know who she is. She somehow ended up in my trailer with an agent from the federal park service. I don’t really understand why they came. The agent said the girl insisted on finding me. I have no idea how those men died at the airport and the field—”
“What do you mean the field?” Rudd asked. “You mean it didn’t just happen at the airport?”
“I don’t know what happened. And then that guy—Quincy—who drove the Porsche, was there. He wanted to run, and I couldn’t just leave her there. So we took off.”
The man pointed angrily. “Why was Quincy Martin there?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know who he is. All he said was something about wanting to make some kind of deal.”
“Are you kidding? Swooping in on all this trying to make a buck? Not that he needs it. You really don’t know who he is? I don’t think it’s by chance he showed up at the same moment those agents moved in. He needs to be removed from this scenario. And fast.”
“Listen. No one gets hurt, understand?” William said. “I understand you think you’re keep me safe, but you have to let us go—”
“You don’t get it. We let you go, and the government gets you, and you disappear forever—”
The sound of a pistol resounded from outside, followed by another.
“Rudd!” Neve said, peering out the window. “It’s Kevin, he’s running!”
“What’s going on…” Quincy muttered from his bed. Lily too began to stir.
The bald man turned his eyes, streaked with reddening vessels, back to William. “Stay away from the windows. Can you keep the girl calm?”
“I don’t know—”
“I suggest you try,” the man said, running to the door.
William hurried over to the bed while keeping an eye on the man. Those bloodshot eyes were now peering through the peephole, his finger was on the trigger of the gun. Neve, too, had her pistol raised in preparation.
William gently brushed the girl’s forehead and face. “Lily, can you wake up…”
Her eyes popped open in panic, her voice raspy. “There’s a monster in the mountain.”
“It’s OK, Lily—”
“There’s a monster in the mountain,” she frantically repeated. “She’s there. We have to go!”
“It’s OK, it’s OK,” he whispered. “Don’t talk right now, OK?”
Quincy began to groan and tried to sit up. “You’ve got to keep quiet, too. These people are heavily armed. Something’s happened outside—”
Rudd pulled open the door, and William recognized the man who injected Lily. His thick shock of black hair was flattened somewhat by the Nixon mask he’d worn before.
“What happened?” Rudd asked, quickly shutting the door.
“Drone. I had to shoot it down. Hovering over the other end of the parking lot. Couldn’t take a chance on it getting video of us,” the man said, holstering his pistol and picking up one of the semiautomatics.
“Every man in a midlife crisis has one of those,” Quincy said, holding his head. “What the hell is wrong with you people—?”
“Quiet!” Rudd commanded, pointing the rifle at Quincy. “I am not screwing around here!” He then held up his hand at Lily, cautiously. “We’re here to protect you too, honey.”
The girl scooted towards William on the bed.
“It’s just a matter of time now. Neve, how much longer on that SUV?” Rudd asked.
“I only dared to make one call on that landline. I don’t want to call again. They said it could be any moment. Might not be soon enough if the cops respond to a shot-up drone.”
“I’ll keep watch. Turn on CNN. See what they’re reporting. Hopefully they still don’t have a clue where we are. And the Memphis TV stations surely won’t respond to the shooting of a drone.” Rudd peered out again through the peephole.
Memphis, William thought. Halfway home to Nashville. Is that where we’re ultimately headed?
The TV flared on. Neve flipped till she found CNN, with the banner at the bottom reading, in bold red letters, “THE ABDUCTION OF WILLIAM CHANCE.”
“That should read ‘Part Two,’” Quincy muttered.
William frowned at him, watching the anchorwoman, who sported a hairstyle that could be seen on networks across the country, share the screen with video of both his trailer and of the Clinton National Airport.
“… it is still unclear the connection, but here’s what we know at the top of this hour. Following reports of gunshots being fired in a field surrounding the mobile home where it is believed that William Chance was living in central Arkansas, there were also calls of gunfire near Clinton National Airport. We are hearing from federal agents on the scene that there is growing concern that Mr. Chance has been taken hostage by armed abductors and is now missing.”
“And the spin begins,” Rudd said.
The anchor continued breathlessly. “We have team coverage of this breaking story, beginning with Maurice Mulle
r at the mobile home just south of Little Rock.”
A reporter who looked like he had just graduated middle school but with a jawline straight out of a J. Crew catalog pointed to the trailer cordoned off by crime scene tape. “Kit, this continues to be a very active scene. At some point early this morning, many of the reporters here trying to get a comment from William Chance heard what sounded like bullets being fired on the other end of this cotton field. I can show you video of what our photographer captured before police moved us all back.”
The screen cut to shaky video taken from a distance down the road, quickly zooming in on William’s sunken Jeep. “This Jeep is believed to belong to William Chance, and the tires have been shot out. A short while ago, a spokesman from Little Rock police gave us a brief update. Take a listen.”
A tired-looking officer in glasses came onto the screen. “We can confirm that a Jeep parked not far from the trailer was fired upon. We are working in conjunction with federal investigators on the scene to determine what happened. But there is no evidence of anyone being hurt.”
Rudd shook his head. “Bastards. Moved the bodies before the cops arrived.”
The reporter was back on camera. “We can also tell you that two helicopters took off not long after the gunshots, and it’s believed those are federal agents.”
“Maurice, do we have any idea at this point why William Chance was even living in Little Rock? How long he had been here?” the anchorwoman asked.
“We don’t. But I can tell you, minute by minute, the crowd here continues to grow. One group of women tell me they drove all night from Idaho to see if it was true that Chance had finally surfaced.”
The anchor tossed her ever-so-perfectly curled hair slightly. “Thank you Maurice. The answer to why federal agents are on the scene of what appears to be a random shooting may be answered by what happened at Clinton National Airport. We continue our team coverage now with Susan Strandon outside the airport with the latest there. Susan?”
The reporter, whose version of the anchor hairstyle was growing limper by the second due to the humidity, motioned to the airport.
“It’s still unclear, Kit, why William Chance ended up here. All we can tell you is the FBI has released a photograph of a van that they say Chance was forced into.”
A photograph, clearly taken from the video mounted on one of the helicopters, showed the gray van as William, Lily, and Quincy were entering. Rudd, in his ski mask, was waving them in.
“Federal agents say men wearing masks seized Chance and forced him into the van. A FBI spokesman said they fear Mr. Chance is in real danger. And there is another astonishing element to this. If you look closely at that photograph, it appears that’s Quincy Martin. If his name sounds familiar, it’s because he’s the billionaire creator of all those new hologram functions on smartphones, and more recently, the ‘Beam Me Up’ app. The video shows he’s being forced into the van along with a little girl. And we’ve confirmed his private plane was parked nearby.”
Video then came up showing Quincy at the New York Stock Exchange, ringing the bell among cheering investors. For a brief moment, the video included images of a green hologram of Quincy beaming from the light of a smartphone.
“Susan, do we have any idea why Quincy Martin is there? And who this little girl is?” the anchor asked.
“We don’t.”
“Alright, thank you Susan. We want to bring in now Stephanie Stiller with Hollywoodextra.com, who broke the news of William Chance living in Arkansas, to talk about this whirlwind twenty-four hours—”
Neve muted the TV. “Well, the narrative is set.”
“Kevin, tell me you parked the van far away from here. Everyone and their brother is looking for it now,” Rudd said.
“I did. We need that SUV. Like an hour ago.”
“Keep your eyes up. The second somebody sees that SUV, we’re out of here.”
As the three continued to look out the window, Quincy moved closer behind William, whispering. “This might be a good time for little thing here to summon the dark side and kill them before they kill us.”
Lily turned her head into William’s shoulder and buried it.
“We don’t have much time,” Quincy said. “This cannot end well. Who are these nut jobs?”
William tilted his head and whispered back. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. I know plenty of them. Not all true believers are as stable as yours truly. I just didn’t know they came in a Fast and Furious version.”
“All that matters now is we remain calm and get out of here,” William responded.
“Hey, angel. Can you just make ’em collapse or something?”
“Knock it off,” William said. “Nobody’s killing anybody—”
Lily pulled back. “There’s a monster in the mountain!”
“What did she say?” Quincy asked.
“Lily, shh…” William reached out for her shoulder.
“There’s a monster in the mountain!” she pleaded.
“Screw this,” Quincy said, standing up. “Hey, whatever you shot us up with has really messed up this kid. She needs a doctor.”
“Sit down,” Rudd said, pointing the gun at Quincy.
“Rudd.” The woman motioned to the window. “Cops.”
The word sucked the oxygen from the room. Rudd made a slicing motion with his hand.
Minutes passed in silence, the three at the windows nervously fingering their weapons.
“Shit, here he comes,” Neve said.
Rush the door. Yell for help. William took a step forward when Rudd turned back to him, his palm raised in yet another angry, silent order.
A firm, loud knock rattled the door. “Memphis police. Please open the door.”
Rudd exhaled loudly, waiting a few moments. He then leaned on the door. “Hi officer, what’s going on?”
“You can’t shoot down drones. You’ve ruined a kid’s birthday. Open up.”
“Nicely done,” Quincy muttered.
“Just getting on my shoes, sorry,” Rudd said, flashing Kevin an angry look. “I’m really sorry about that. Drones aren’t supposed to fly over people. I am just a stickler for rules, don’t think it’s fair when they’re broken. But I promise it won’t happen again.”
They could hear the high-pitched beep of the officer opening up his radio. Once he was done talking, his voice was considerably calmer.
“You could have hurt someone seriously. We need to talk about that. I understand you’re not alone in there. The boy said it looked like some people were being carried in. Have you got a little girl with you?”
Rudd’s eyes grew wide. “Like I said—I’m really sorry. I will pay for a new drone once I find my wallet. It’s just me and my family. My daughter’s actually in the bathtub right now.”
Rudd pointed his finger at Neve and then to the bathroom. She nodded and hurried to the back of the room, motioning with her gun for William and Quincy to bring Lily.
“Never a good idea to shoot a loaded gun around a kid,” the cop said through the door. “You need to open up right now.”
The woman rushed the three into the bathroom. The uncomfortable tightness of the room was revealed in the dim light from a single bulb in a double socket, and a window with a frosted pane.
Neve slid back the shower curtain and kneeled in front of Lily. “Listen, honey. I know this seems really strange. But we’re doing all this to protect you and William from getting hurt.”
“Including drugging you,” Quincy said.
“You,” Neve said, again displaying her pistol. “See if you can quietly get that window open.”
“That’s your exit strategy? I couldn’t begin to get my fat ass through there.”
“Wouldn’t that be a loss. Now move,” she said.
As Quincy grumbled something about bleach while inspecting the window, Neve leaned on the counter, tapping the countertop and trying to listen through the door.
“You can end this right now, you k
now,” William said. “You have no proof that my grandmother sent you. Just let us leave and go with that officer. He’s just a local cop; he’s here on a nuisance call. No one has to get hurt.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” she said. “Even after everything you’ve seen. You go with that cop, and eventually you and this extraordinary girl would end up in federal custody, which means no one will ever see you again. They’ve seen what she can do. They’ll take her away forever, get it? We’re trying to keep that from happening.”
“All I’m worried about now is that no one gets hurt, and you have filled this room with guns. I swear to you that I will make it clear we were not harmed by you—”
“Just shut up,” she said, and then forced herself to calm, looking at Lily. “I shouldn’t have said that honey, we’re all just a bit stressed right now. I need everyone to stay quiet. Please. No more talking. And get that window open.”
For several minutes, they watched Quincy struggle. The window, coated in years of grime, clearly hadn’t been opened for some time.
“It’s stuck,” Quincy said.
“Help him,” Neve said, motioning with her chin.
William slid by the woman. “Take that corner, and I’ll do this one. On the count of three.”
As they both pushed, the window slammed open so roughly that the glass cracked.
“Nice place you chose here,” Quincy said, peering outside. “Even nicer view of the alley. Is this where your ride is coming?”
“Is it big enough for us all to get through?”
“If I really sucked in my gut,” Quincy said.
“You’re the least of my concerns. Now we wait.”
Lily moved over to where William sat on the edge of the bathtub. Quincy unrolled a ridiculous amount of tissue and spread it out on the toilet lid, wincing as he sat.
“How much you guys going to ask in your ransom?” Quincy asked.
“I’m serious about shutting the hell up.” Neve came to lean on the door frame. “I need to hear—”
The sound of splintered wood came from outside, and then the breaking of glass. Heavy footsteps rushed across the room.
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