“Can I help you?” she asked through the screen.
The smaller man frowned. “Emma Thompson?”
Her heart raced, thumping into her chest wall. “And who’s asking?”
“We’re with Child Protective Services. We’d like to come in and see your son.”
Her fingers gripped the edge of the doorjamb. “Do you have badges?”
He looked at his partner, then back at her. “We don’t carry badges, ma’am.”
“Then do you have any kind of papers or name tags?”
He hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Emma to realize he was about to do something.
She slammed the door shut, barely closing and locking it before his hand pushed through the screen. Running to her room, she pulled her laundry hamper in front of the shelf in her closet, climbing up and pulling down the box with her gun. The container was locked and the gun was unloaded. She’d never have it ready in time.
Grabbing the phone, she dialed 911 and ran into the kitchen to grab a knife. Through the living room window, she saw the two men dart around the corner of the house. Toward Jake’s room.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
Jake still lay on the bed, unresponsive. Emma tried to control her rising panic.
“What’s your emergency?”
“Uh…” She took several breaths. “There’s two men. They’re trying to break into my house.”
“What’s your address, ma’am?”
“Thirty-twenty-two Forest Road. Please hurry. They want my son.” Her voice broke as she sat on the bed, putting herself between Jake and the window. The men’s silhouettes appeared against the drawn curtains.
“We’re sending someone now. Just stay on the line until the officers get there.”
“Please hurry. Please.” She’d never felt more helpless or terrified in her life.
Soon sirens whined in the distance, and the figures darted away from the window. Within a few minutes, there was more pounding on the front door. “Police. Open up!”
Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. “There’s someone at the door saying they’re the police.”
“That’s our officers, miss. Go let them in.”
She glanced down at Jake. “I don’t want to leave my son.”
“You can take him with you, but stay on the line until you let them in.”
Cradling Jake in her arms, she held the knife as she moved to the front door. Two men stood on the porch, wearing police uniforms. She opened the door and let them in.
Her legs buckled and one of the officers grabbed her arm and held her up, taking the knife with his free hand. He led her to the sofa and set it down. Jake roused from his trance-stare, staring at the policemen with wide eyes. She tried to calm herself down for Jake’s sake. Her two-year-old son didn’t need to see his mother freak out anymore. Finally, she stopped shaking enough for officer to take her statement. The way he watched her made her uneasy.
He’s a police officer, for God’s sake, Emma. Stop the paranoia.
He gave her a tight smile then announced he was going to look around the outside of the house. Returning several minutes later, he tucked the notebook in his shirt pocket. “We didn’t find anything, ma’am.”
She titled her head, confused. “That’s because they left. You were hardly out there.”
“We’ll file the report and see what happens.”
“Don’t you want to know what they looked like?”
He looked at his partner then down at her. “Ma’am, we’ve been told that you’re prone to exaggeration and that CPS has been notified to investigate.”
She stood, her anger rising. “Who told you that?”
“We have confidential sources, but this incident combined with your call the other night…”
“You’re telling me you’re not going to do anything?
“We’ll file the report, ma’am.”
“You’ll file the report? You’ll file the report?” She flung her hand toward the front door. “Meanwhile, there are men out there who want my son! My son is in danger and you’re doing nothing to help him!”
The officer leaned his face down to hers. “Honestly ma’am, the only danger we see to your son right now is you. CPS will be in touch.”
“What about the screen? They ripped the screen to get in.”
“You have a little boy, Ms. Thompson. My kids are always busting my screen door.” His voice lowered. “I understand that you’re a single mother and under a lot of stress. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to get some counseling.”
“Excuse me?”
He flashed her a tight smile. “We’ll let ourselves out.”
“Yeah. Why don’t you do that?”
Emma followed and locked the door behind them, wanting to burst into tears. But Jake was watching and he needed her to be strong. She needed to keep it together.
His face relaxed. “The bad men are gone.”
She pulled him into a hug. “Yes, they’re gone.”
“They’re coming back.”
His announcement didn’t surprise her, yet fear coursed through her veins.
“Why are they coming back?”
He leaned away and looked at her in confusion. “They want me.”
“Because you can see things?”
He nodded. “But later they’ll want you. And you’ll leave me.”
She pulled his head to her chest. “I’ll never leave you. Never.”
“You’ll be with a man. He’ll keep you safe.”
“No, Jake. There’s only you.”
“The bad men are coming back.”
With a sigh, she pondered her choices. One, she could ignore his warning, in spite of the fact that he’d been right about the men who tried to break in. Or two, she could listen to him and be ready the next time they came.
“Do you know when they are coming back?”
“No.”
“Will you tell me when you do?”
“Yes.”
She was jumpy the rest of the afternoon, uncertain what to do. If the police wouldn’t listen to her, what could she do? Her only option was to take matters into her own hands.
Maybe she should hide. She had no ties to Little Rock. She’d planned to get a new job anyway. She could sell her house, get a new car. They could move anywhere. Get a fresh start where no one knew them. No one knew about Jake.
This was crazy. She was giving up the life she’d worked so hard for. The life she’d always wanted as a kid and she vowed to give to Jake, and here she was, throwing it all away.
But when she looked at Jake, and studied his angelic face, she knew she’d give up everything she owned. She’d give her life for him.
As it got dark, she knew she couldn’t let him sleep in his room. Every time she thought about putting him in there, she saw the men lurking outside his window.
While he sat on her bed and watched cartoons, she packed several suitcases of clothes, constantly checking on him. She had no idea when the Bad Men would return, but she suspected it would be sooner rather than later. She planned to be prepared.
Jake brushed his teeth, watching with eyes too serious to belong to a child so young. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she told herself things would be better when they moved. They’d lose the Bad Men, and Jake would become the happy little boy he was only weeks before.
Before he went to sleep, they curled up on her king-sized bed and she read him his favorite stories. She sat with him until he fell asleep, then tucked his books into a bag as well as his favorite toys.
They’d leave in the morning. Why sit around and wait for something bad to happen? She could call a realtor to list her house. She could send movers to pack up her house.
There was enough money in her bank account to last them several months, maybe more if she was careful. She assured herself this was a one-time move. She’d lose the people after them, maybe even change her name and start again. They could think of it as an adventure. Heaven
knew she’d never done anything impulsive in her life. If she was going for impetuousness, she might as well go big.
She went to bed, curling around her sleeping son, breathing in the last of his baby scent. He was growing up, faster than she wanted. Faster than a normal two-year-old should. She’d always thought she could protect him from the bad things in the world. That’s what mothers did. They put plugs in the electric outlets and stored the cleaning chemicals on high shelves. They purchased overpriced, highly rated car seats and cut grapes into small pieces.
But how could she—vanilla, mundane Emmanuella Thompson—save Jake from this?
Maybe she couldn’t stop the bad things he saw in his head, but she’d do her damnedest to make sure the bad people didn’t hurt him.
When she finally drifted off several hours later, she wondered where she’d sleep the next night. The last thing she wanted was to live her life on the run.
Chapter Five
Emma woke to Jake sitting up in bed, his body stiff. The room was dark except for the streetlight shining though crack in the drapes.
“Jake?”
“They’re coming.”
She threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “How much time do we have?”
The doorbell rang.
Shit. She should have left earlier. After a moment of hesitation, she picked Jake up and crept through the dark house and into the garage.
“They’re here, Mommy.”
“I know baby. We’ll be okay.” Sliding the van door open as quietly as possible, she placed Jake in his car seat and strapped him in, kissing his forehead. “I have to get the rest of our things. I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t leave me!” he cried.
“I’ll be right back, baby. I promise.”
Running into the house, she grabbed the bags by the door, glad she’d had the foresight to pack but wishing she’d taken it a step farther and packed the car. While she’d made the decision to flee hours earlier, it had seemed over reactionary. Somewhere in the back of her brain, she’d hoped to come to her senses in the light of day.
Instead, she came to her senses in the dark of night. The boogeyman was at her door.
Grabbing the last two bags, she froze when the pounding grew louder.
“Police! Open up!”
The police?
She sagged into the back of the overstuffed chair next to her and stared at the TV, realizing that the clock on the DVD player wasn’t flashing. She’d meant to reset the clock after a power surge last week, but she’d never gotten around to it. She shook her head. Why was she thinking about the clock on the DVD player? And more importantly, what the hell was she doing? The police stood on her doorstep, threatening to have CPS investigate her parenting skills, and she was about to run off like a fugitive, proving herself even more unfit.
Emma stood at the precipice of a life-changing decision. Deep in her soul, she knew what she did at this very moment could change the course of everything.
There was more banging on the door. “Ms. Thompson, we have information on the men who were at your house today. Please open the door so we can talk to you.”
She set the suitcases down by the chair and walked to the door, peering through a gap between the curtains and the window. Sure enough, three men in police uniforms stood on her porch, their badges shining in the glow of the porch light. Exhaling in relief, she reached for the doorknob. Then stopped.
Why would the police bang on her door in the middle of the night to tell her about the suspects? Why wouldn’t they call?
She studied the men again and her breath caught in her chest. The man on the right, whose hand rested on the handle of his gun, had been the man who’d stopped her on the sidewalk and stood on the street corner two nights ago. The man on the left, the one closest to her, was the man who’d claimed to be from CPS. But the third, the one who stood in the back, twisting his neck to look around, was the policeman who’d taken her statement that afternoon.
They were here for Jake.
The man in front of her looked down at the window and smiled. She dropped her hold on the curtain and covered her mouth with her hands to soften her gasps of fear.
“Ms. Thompson, this will go much easier on you if you just open the door and cooperate.”
Fear surged through her body, exploding in her brain. What should she do? Backing away from the door, Emma tried to make her brain function. She couldn’t stand here doing nothing.
Do something!
She spun around, stumbling as she ran for the door to the garage and grabbing the last two bags.
“Mommy!” Jake sobbed in his seat as she tossed the suitcases in the car. “Mommy! They’re here!”
“I know baby, I know. It’s going to be okay.”
She ran back inside and grabbed her purse, running her hand through her hair as she tried to figure out if she’d forgotten anything. She looked down and spotted a picture of Jake as a tiny baby. It was nothing, but it was everything. She hadn’t packed any other pictures and she had the feeling she wouldn’t be back to get the rest.
The glass in the window next to the front door shattered and a hand reached in to unlock the deadbolt. She was running out of time.
Jake had stopped crying when she returned to the garage, and his silence frightened her more than his tears. With shaky fingers, she locked the deadbolt on the door. It would temporarily keep them safe, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think it would keep the Bad Men out for long.
Climbing into the van, she started the engine and pushed the garage door opener. The door didn’t open, and she jammed the button repeatedly, crying out in frustration. The windowless garage was pitch black. The only light came from the van’s headlights upon the wall.
Banging her fists into the steering wheel, she cursed her stupidity. The DVD clock was off because the power to the house had been cut off. The garage door wouldn’t open without electricity.
Instead of protecting Jake, she’d trapped him in the garage. Any minute now, those men were going to take her baby and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
The hell there wasn’t. She grabbed the gun from her purse and laid it on her open palm. She could shoot them. Biting her lip so hard she tasted blood, she tried to steady the gun in her trembling hand. Even if she could bring herself to pull the trigger, the men in her house had guns of their own, and Emma bet they were far more experienced with firearms than she was.
So this was it? She was just going to give up?
Glancing up, she caught Jake’s reflection in the rear view mirror, his cheeks wet with tears. His eyes were vacant, focusing on monsters inside his head.
The men in her house wanted to take her child and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. Men with power and position would give anything and do anything to have the knowledge Jake had. He was only two years old, but if she let them take him now, his life would be forever ruined.
Her resolve returned. Other than the door to the kitchen, there was one way out of the garage.
Fastening her seat belt, she put the car into reverse and stomped on the brake while lifting the emergency brake. Things were about to get messy. She floored the gas pedal, then when the engine revved to an uncomfortable shriek, she released both brakes. The car shot backward and slammed into the garage door. The sound of splintering wood let her know she’d made a dent, but she wasn’t out yet, and the men would figure out what she was doing. She drove forward, nearly crashing into the wall and repeated the reverse procedure.
This time there was a hole, but not big enough to drive through. She tried it again, still not breaking through. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a man in the opening with a gun pointed at the van.
A crashing sound drew her attention to the kitchen door. A small hole splintered the wood by the doorknob. Another crash followed.
She was out of time.
Pulling forward, the front of the van hit the wall and she pushed the gas pedal to the floor, the engine revving so
high that she worried she’d destroy the engine. Just as the house door opened, she released the brake, the gas pedal still floored.
The van slammed into the wood garage door, not quite breaking through.
“God damn it!” Hysteria bubbled through her mind, threatening to steal her remaining senses. No! Keep it together, Emma. You can fall apart later.
One of the men had crawled through the opening behind her and stood next to her door.
She screamed.
He held his hands out at his sides. “Emma, no one needs to get hurt. Just get out of the van and let’s sort this out.”
She hiccupped sobs, his face blurring in her tears. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t give them her baby.
Jerking down on the gearshift, she flew forward, then slammed it up in reverse, flooring the pedal. The van broke free of the garage door, hurtling down the driveway and into the street. She hit the brakes and the van swerved, hitting a parked car.
She’d done it.
The men ran out of the house, guns in hand. She pressed the gas, the van tires squealing in protest as she tore down the road. Looking back, she saw the men get into an SUV parked at the curb.
Hurtling around a corner, the van fishtailed, and she momentarily lost control. What the hell was she doing? She didn’t know anything about car chases.
A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that Jake was still in his trance. At least he might be spared the trauma of this nightmare.
She swerved around another corner, losing control again and driving through a neighbor’s yard. If she continued driving like a maniac, she’d crash and never escape the men behind her. Somehow she had to lose them, but this obviously wasn’t the way to do it.
First, she had to get control of the van. She suddenly remembered watching her high school boyfriend doing donuts in a church lot late at night. He’d told her that most people relied on the brakes, but the real control was in the gas. Of course, she’d broken up with him that night. She couldn’t waste her time with someone so irresponsible.
0.05 Emergence Page 3