by Dave Buschi
“What about food? I’m out of milk. What happens when we run out of food?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Shut up! Listen to Frank.”
Someone else yelled and Sue led her girls away. The voices died down behind them. Walking alongside her, Katie and Hannah were quiet. Sue realized she should have driven to the meeting. This was too long of a walk for the girls.
“Mommy, can you carry me?”
“Sure, baby.”
Sue picked up Hannah. She was still thinking of a conversation she’d overhead at the meeting.
“This has been coming for a while.”
“What do you mean?”
“Two statistics about our city: $185,000 and $6,000. Do you know what those two numbers are?
“No? I’ll tell you. The top twenty percent of households and the bottom twenty percent. That’s what they earn.”
“Really?”
“Really. What does that tell you?”
“That a lot of people make a lot more money than me.”
“Me too. But that’s not the point.”
“I see your point. Are you sure about that bottom twenty percent? You can’t live on $6,000.”
“Less than six thousand. And I’m sure.”
“That’s crazy. Twenty percent—that’s...”
“One hundred thousand people,” they said together at the same time.
Each neighbor looked at the other in surprise. “That’s good. So you see the numbers I’m talking about.”
SUE checked her cell phone again to make sure the ringer was on.
“Mommy, you okay?” Hannah said.
“Why do you ask, baby?”
“‘Cause, I’m scared.”
“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Katie said.
“He hasn’t gotten home from work, yet. Baby, can I set you down for a moment?”
Hannah gripped her harder. “No!”
“Okay, okay.” Sue felt like crying, but held it in. She knew she needed to be strong. Where was James?
14
“CAN you hear me?” The voice sounded distant.
It was a man, older. Behind him, sky.
James pushed himself up. He was on grass, not asphalt now. Confused, he looked around. There were vehicles and people off to the side. A stone’s throw away was the car that had exploded. It was still burning, petering out black smoke.
“What happened?”
“You hit your head. How do you feel?”
James rubbed the back of his head and felt something sticky. It was blood. Whatever he’d hit had cut him.
“I looked at it. I think you’re okay.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“No, but I was a medic once… I’d get that checked.”
James looked around. He felt out of it. Disoriented. “Is the girl okay?”
“She’s fine. You did a very brave thing.”
“Where is she?”
“Over there.” He pointed towards a group of people near some cars.
“I checked on her. She’s alright, but I should probably get back to her.”
James nodded. The man walked away with a limp. James looked at himself. His pants were grimy with dirt and what looked to be grease. He pushed himself to a stand and winced. A sharp pain came from his ankle.
He took his weight off it and sat back down. He checked to see what it was. His ankle was swollen, but didn’t seem to be cut. He realized when the escaped con had pulled him from his car his ankle must have twisted when it got caught.
He stood up again and tested it. It appeared to be a sprain. It could take his weight, but hurt.
James stood there. The scene was surreal. The car was a burning shell and no one was trying to put it out. People were just staring at the smoke. Cars were in a long line, one after the other. No one was trying to drive past the wreck.
James looked up the road. It was mostly empty. He could see a few people walking, but that was it. Up a ways, not far off, was a car that was sitting in the middle of the road. It was white. It took him a second until he realized that was his car.
He stood there and looked around again.
Then he started limping.
WHEN he reached his car, he found it empty. The driver’s door was wide open. His ankle hurt.
He took a seat and surveyed inside. The man hadn’t taken anything from it. Even his Blackberry was still there, plugged to its charging cord.
James picked it up and powered it on. The battery icon showed a very small charge. He had messages. Seven of them.
James looked at the numbers that had called. He didn’t waste power listening to the messages. His wife had called three times. Enrique, from work, had called twice? The other two numbers he didn’t recognize.
James pushed ‘talk’ to call his wife back. The phone began to ring. As it rang, James looked around trying to figure out where he was.
15
SUE heard the phone ringing inside. She fumbled with the keys, got the girls in, and closed the door. By the time she got to the phone, she was too late. The person had gone into voicemail.
She pulled up caller ID. It said ‘Wireless number’. Hope surged. That could be James!
“Mommy,” said Hannah.
“In a minute, honey.” Sue touched speed dial to retrieve the messages.
“Mommy, the door’s open,” said Katie.
“Hold on.” Sue cradled the phone to her ear. You have three messages, said voicemail.
“Mommy.” Hannah pulled at Sue’s shirt.
Katie screamed from the other room.
Sue paused and took the phone from her ear. She looked down at Hannah, the usual source for Katie to scream. Her eyes swept the kitchen and noticed the back pantry door was wide open.
“Katie?” Sue said.
“Mommy!” Hannah grabbed Sue’s leg.
Sue picked her up. “Katie answer me.” Sue walked into the next room.
Her heart dropped. There were three men standing there. Three men she didn’t know.
16
JAMES cursed his stupidity. He’d just left Sue a worthless message. He should have checked where he was before dialing.
He looked at his car. It was crumpled at the point of impact and the bumper was shorn off, leaving exposed Styrofoam. He tried to open the trunk, but it was bent too much to budge.
His options weren’t good. He considered trying to push his car off the road, but with his ankle swollen and back aching, he didn’t see how he’d get that done. Just walking this short distance to his car was hard enough. His ankle was obviously sprained. He needed to elevate and ice it.
James made sure he had everything he needed from his car, left a note, and gingerly limped down the road. He didn’t like leaving his car, but didn’t have a choice in the matter. There was no one around to help push it to the side.
The bathroom urge came over him again; it was a wonder his bladder hadn’t exploded. He saw an abandoned gas station and went behind it. That taken care of, he took stock of his situation.
His car was wrecked and abandoned. He was filthy, alone, lost, and with no easy means to get back to his family or to find out if they were even okay. With the exception of the few dollars in his pocket, he was flat broke. Every penny of his filched in some identity theft nightmare.
He looked up into the sky and could see planes circling, ominously, as if he was carrion and they were the vultures. He had no idea what was going on, but from the look of things it wasn’t good. It could be a terrorist attack or something just as bad.
He questioned his decision to walk away from the accident. He still couldn’t believe he’d gone into a burning car. Gingerly, he touched the back of his head. He looked for signs and saw one ahead, but it lacked a cross-street.
Great.
That’s all he had to go on. He found a spot to sit down and took out his Blackberry. He couldn’t walk anymore.
17
THE men moved through t
he house. They locked the doors. They were dressed in dark clothes and wore gloves. The one with tattoos up his neck stopped in front of the fireplace and picked a framed photo off the mantle. He asked where her husband was. He had a heavy Slavic accent and broad features with deep-set eyes. Sue said he would be home soon. She told him to take anything he wanted, but just to please go.
The man ignored her and left the room. Sue’s focus was on her girls and keeping them safe. But she also feared what might happen to James if he came home.
“Mommy, I’m scared,” Katie whispered.
Sue hugged her. “I know honey, but it’s going to be okay. This will all be okay.”
The tattooed man came back into the room. “Artem, upstairs. Vasily, get started. You know what to do.”
Hannah whimpered and Katie dug her face into Sue’s side. “Please,” Sue said. “My purse is in the kitchen. I have some money in there. Take it and please go.”
The man ignored her. He had some clothes in his hand. He walked past them and into the kitchen. Sue glanced at the mirror above the mantle and could see his reflection. He stopped in the kitchen and looked around. If he was looking for her purse, it should be right in front of him on the counter. What was he doing?
He didn’t reach for her purse, but instead pulled off his shirt. His back was heavily muscled and tattooed like his neck. He undid his pants and let them drop to the floor. His bare behind was stark white. Sue caught a hideous pointy glimpse as he turned around. At that exact moment, the man looked up and saw Sue in the mirror. He flashed a lupine smile and Sue quickly looked away.
A moment later the man walked in wearing James’s khakis and one of his button-down shirts. The clothes were loose on him, but otherwise fit. He plopped himself down on the recliner. He looked over and grinned.
Sue’s stomach curdled. The man snorted a laugh, turned on the TV and began to flip through channels.
18
ENRIQUE, impatient to tell him something, had gone on as James’s phone started to beep. What he was saying didn’t make any sense. Something about AngelGuard and how this could come back to them.
James shook his head, not making sense of it. He checked his watch. He wondered if he’d given the right address for the used car dealership across the street. Looking at the digits from here, he realized the 3 might be a 5. It looked like a three, but he couldn’t be sure.
Great, what if he gave the wrong address?
A man came out of the dealership. James hadn’t thought it was open. Two more men came out and the three of them had a discussion and went over to an older model sedan.
One of the men pulled something out. The other two backed away and then took off running. The man that remained just watched. As they peeled from sight, he looked at the ground as if looking for something and then turned and…
Blam!
James stared, alarmed by what he was seeing. Blam! Blam!
The man had just shot the windows out of an unoccupied car? What the hell was this, the Wild West? First there was the shooting at the gas station, the grocery store being looted, then Taneesha, the teens who were shot at his car, the jail break…
Jesus. The whole world seemed to be going crazy. With a new rising fear, James noticed that the man with the gun was looking across the street at him.
At that moment there was the sound of crunching gravel. James turned to see a sports car coming towards him. It was Enrique! He was in his old Mazda RX-8. The car pulled alongside him and James opened the passenger door and got in. “Let’s go.”
“Everything cool?”
“I’m fine, but you may want to go.”
“What was that noise? Sounded like gunshots.”
“That’s why you may want to go.”
19
RUNNING on adrenaline and fear, Sue rummaged through her purse quickly. She barely slipped the key in her pocket when the man walked in to check on her.
“What’s taking so long?” the man said with a caustic tone. Accusation and anger was in his eyes.
“I had to run the water for it to get cold.”
The man frowned and surveyed the running faucet and rest of the kitchen. His eyes settled on the chopping block and kitchen knives. Sue had considered those, but with the three of them she knew that would just get her and the girls killed.
One way or another, however, she was getting her girls through this. She focused on that goal and put everything else aside. These men were not going to harm them.
“Hurry up.” The man stood there and watched her fill the cups. She finished and turned off the faucet.
She glanced at his clothes on the floor; the ones he’d had on before he took her husband’s. The man noticed her glance.
“Hold it,” he said.
Sue froze.
“Put down the cups.”
She did.
His eyes bored into her. “Lift up the shirt.”
“No.” She looked at him defiantly.
He grabbed her. It was so sudden and fast that she didn’t have time to react or resist. He got her by the wrists. His grip was like a steel vise. With one hand he yanked up her shirt.
He gave a long leering look, taking in her slim waist, bra, and full breasts. He smirked lasciviously and let go.
Sue sucked in a breath and pulled her shirt back down. With dismay, she realized she’d been powerless in his grip—like a rag doll. He was so strong it was frightening.
He sneered. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
She picked up the cups. He looked at her cravenly. She squeezed by him to get to the other room. He didn’t let her pass easily, but forced her to brush up against him. The fleeting contact with him almost made her vomit.
He laughed.
She rejoined her girls in the den. They were being watched by the man named Vasily. He looked at her with only coldness. No help was coming from him, she realized.
“Mommy,” Hannah said. Her face was red and puffy from crying.
“What is it baby?”
“I need to pee pee.”
Sue nodded and girdled herself. She looked at their captors. “I need to take my girls to the bathroom.”
She expected the man with tattoos to refuse her request, but instead he just shrugged. “Vasily, go with them.”
The man nodded. Sue led her girls down the hallway and the man followed.
At the end of the hallway were two doors. One was the bathroom. The other opened to the garage. She knew it was locked, but the key in her pocket would open its deadbolt. They were so close, yet so far. Her mind churned, trying to think how she could create an opportunity to unlock that door.
Not wanting to delay and telecast her intentions, she opened the bathroom door and let her girls in.
“I’ve got to close the door.”
The man frowned and shook his head.
“They need privacy.”
The man just stood there.
“Please?” she said.
The man grunted and took a step back. Sue closed the door and nodded to Hannah. “It’s okay, honey.”
“I can’t.”
It took coaxing to get Hannah onto the potty. She reminded her daughter of the time on the plane and how she was such a big girl then. “It’s just like that time. You can do this, baby.”
Hannah’s eyes were wet and she bravely looked up.
“I love you, baby. You can do this.”
Inwardly, Sue was crying. With relief, Hannah finally went.
“Baby, I’m so proud of you.”
Sue looked at Katie. “Do you need to go?”
Katie shook her head.
“You sure?”
“I’m okay, Mommy.” Katie’s bottom lip trembled.
Sue made a decision. She made it then. She felt the key in her pocket and glanced towards the door.
She might not get another chance like this. “Girls,” she said softly, “I want you to keep close. Do you understand?”
Her girls nodded. They looke
d so adult. She was so proud of them.
She quietly locked the bathroom door and opened the cabinet beneath the sink. Inside was extra toilet paper, tissues, a plastic plunger and a scented candle. The plunger was the flimsy kind, whose handle was just hollow plastic. None of it could help her.
She bit her lip and closed the cabinet. She looked around quickly. Her eyes settled on the mirror on the wall. It was mounted with screws; she remembered the hassle of putting it up. She glanced at her reflection. The face that looked back at her was full of determination.
At that moment, the door handle moved.
The man was trying to get in.
20
BEYOND the barricades, police were struggling to maintain order. A man with a megaphone was urging everyone to remain calm.
“I know,” Enrique said, as he drove at a crawl. He’d taken off his baseball cap. His black hair was matted down into a Caesar coif. With the exception of his faint European accent, he came across as your typical twenty-something-year-old you’d see at a bus stop with iPod plugs reading a gaming magazine.
“How else do you explain it?” Enrique said.
The crowd outside the bank was getting worse. They drove past a news van. Enrique had filled him in on what was happening. Throughout the city were other demonstrations. The Governor had declared a State of Emergency and called in the National Guard. The President was scheduled to make an address in the next hour or so.
“Payment servers,” Enrique said. “And from there it rippled.”
James was absorbing it all. This crisis that ballooned in less than a day began with payment servers. Payment servers. Most people didn’t even know what they were. But people knew credit cards. Without payment servers credit cards were just plastic. Useless plastic. Payment servers were the workhorses that did the heavy lifting.
James’s job made him more informed than most when it came to such things. He was familiar with the POS process. When a credit card was swiped, the data that routed over public telephone networks utilized payment servers to decode a portion of encoded information. The process parsed numbers into manageable buckets. Those buckets were encrypted and only when they linked appropriately and were unlocked with the right value, or ‘cryptographic key’, would money flow in and out of accounts.