Stillness

by Eldon Farrell

  Stillness is in for its first taste of winter.

  Hearing the front door close and the sound of approaching footsteps he turns away from the window. Wincing in pain he hobbles over to his desk.

  It could be Jaime, he thinks. He’s ignored a few of her calls today so he supposes it could be her coming to check on him.

  As the footsteps get closer he discards this idea. They’re too heavy to be Jaime’s. That son of a bitch! Cursing under his breath he pulls open the bottom right drawer of his desk only to remember that his gun is still lying in the foyer.

  Shit!

  Rifling through each drawer he tries to find something—anything he can use as a weapon. Finding nothing he throws back a large gulp of his brandy and waits nervously to confront his adversary.

  The knob of his office door begins to turn slowly before the door is pushed open. The man standing in the doorway is backlit by the corridor lights. The clouds outside obscure any daylight through the window as the snow picks up intensity.

  Gritting his teeth Donald spits “You shouldn’t have come back in here Alex.” Picking up the phone on his desk he says, “I’m going to let the police deal with you now.”

  He stands statuesque with the phone to his ear for a few seconds before the confused expression creeps across his face. “What the…?” he mumbles as he realizes that there is no dial tone.

  Looking at Alex he watches him confidently close the door behind him. The click of the lock echoes around the quiet room.

  “What have you done Alex?” Donald’s voice quavers ever so slightly as he asks, “What do you think you’re doing? I’m the mayor of this town!”

  As the man steps out of the shadows Donald’s breath catches in his throat. His face is…wrong.

  “You’re not Alex,” he says as he unsteadily downs the rest of his drink. This action brings a smile to the stranger’s lips.

  Standing in front of the sideboard, the stranger lifts the bottle of brandy up while continuing to smile sickeningly at Donald.

  The room starts to swirl a little as Donald’s vision blurs. The glass slips from his fingers smashing on the floor as he sways treacherously on his feet.

  “What?” he asks, “What did you…what did you do to me?” His tongue feels heavy and too large for his mouth as he struggles to speak.

  Falling forward he lands awkwardly on his injured knee, letting out a cry of pain. Feeling beads of sweat dotting his forehead he looks at the blurry image of the stranger asking, “Who…who are you?”

  The stranger sets the bottle of brandy back on the sideboard—making sure that it’s perpendicular to the silver serving tray—before turning his attention to Donald.

  He opens his mouth to reveal crooked teeth set in a ravenous grin—ever widening until it swallows the world. As his eyes roll back in their sockets to expose the hideous whites underneath, he steps forward.

  Blood splatters the wood paneled walls. Screams rend the air.

  Darkness falls.

  A monster rises.

  Chapter 50

  Giant flakes of snow fall from the heavens dusting the shoulders and hair of the men around her as Lynne listens to Caleb detailing the situation.

  She’s having an overwhelming sense of Deja-vu from being back at the Crater Lake caves. This is where the whole epidemic started.

  “Consider Walt Anjou to be armed, dangerous and unstable in the extreme.” Caleb says as he lays a map out on the hood of a police car. “I want El Said returned to custody unharmed. So nobody takes a shot without my expressed consent. Clear?”

  He looks at the ashen faces circling him before continuing. “We received an anonymous tip that the Sheriff is here in one of these caves. With this map I hope we can narrow the search somewhat.”

  “How are we supposed to find him?” Gord Smith asks, “There are countless numbers of caves down there that aren’t even on the map. He could be anywhere.”

  “Gord’s right,” Dodson agrees “Without knowing where he is, we’ll never find him.”

  Placing his hands on his hips Caleb rises up squinting from the cold and the knowledge that they’re right. The cave system is too massive to search aimlessly and hope we get lucky.

  “I know where he is.”

  All eyes turn towards Lynne who clarifies her comment. “I mean, I think I know where he is.”

  “How would you know?” Homeland Security agent Lance Covington, asks.

  Glancing at him, she turns to Caleb asking “Why is he here? Why would he stop running?” When no one offers an answer she explains “He’s meeting someone here. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. And if he has to meet someone they have to be able to find him.”

  “So ‘ow do they find ‘im” FBI agent Frank O’Malley asks in his Irish lilt.

  “The cave where Markov was found is not on the maps, but would be known to whoever he’s meeting.”

  Caleb smiles at her before looking to his assembled backup. “Any better ideas gentlemen?” The four men shrug their shoulders in unison. “Then we go with it. Everyone suit up in full body armor and be ready in five minutes.”

  Touching Lynne’s cheek with his fingers Caleb whispers “I don’t suppose I can convince you to stay out here?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he replies “Stay behind me and stay close.”

  “Agent Fine,” Dodson calls out “Walt’s wife is on her way here.”

  “What about his son?”

  Dodson shakes his head. “We haven’t found him yet.”

  “Well find him!” Caleb barks as he slides a fresh magazine into his Glock. “If we’re going to talk Walt out of there we’re going to need all the leverage we can get!”

  His wrists ache dully as he watches Walt Anjou pace nervously around the damp space.

  His face is intermittently in light and darkness as he passes the few candles burning in the otherwise dark cave. When in the light, Kazim can see the anxiety spread across Walt’s fleshy features.

  “What’s the problem Sheriff?” he points out “Your meeting delayed?”

  “Shut up.”

  “You really thought he was going to come…here?”

  Whirling around on him Walt levels his gun at him. “I told you to shut up. He’ll be here.”

  Lowering his gaze, Kazim says nothing. Turning away from him Walt checks his cell phone for any messages. The readout is the same as it was twenty minutes ago—no signal.

  Where the hell are you?

  “You know your police buddies are probably already here.” When Walt says nothing Kazim adds “You have to admit, Cummings is pretty clever.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Walt snarls.

  “You really haven’t figured it out yet?”

  “Figured what out?”

  “When you broke me out of custody you became a wanted man.” Smiling thinly Kazim says, “That’s how Cummings eliminates his problems. He did it to Sullivan; he did it to me; now he’s done it to you. I warned you that he’d betray you.”

  “That’s not true,” Walt replies with little conviction.

  Snickering under his breath Kazim asks, “I have to know; what did you do to piss him off?”

  My file…?

  Shaking his head Walt glances at him. “Why am I listening to you? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “That’s right,” Kazim taunts “I don’t know what I’m talking about. The General is coming to this cave to meet you because he wants to talk to me—after he’s already thrown me to the wolves mind you.

  “Someone’s coming here Sheriff, but it isn’t Cummings. Alex isn’t the type to get his own hands dirty tying up loose ends. After all if he wanted to I’m sure he could’ve got to me himself when I was locked up; he didn’t need to involve you in it.

  “But then again, I’m not the only loose end here that he wants tied up.”

  Walt says nothing but slowly turns around to stare at Kazim face to
face. “That’s right,” Kazim smiles “You see it now don’t you? What do you want to bet that your pal Cummings has already told the police exactly where to find us?”

  “Shut up,” Walt steps towards his shackled prisoner “Or I’ll wipe that smirk right off your face.”

  “You better do it quick,” Kazim says defiantly “Before your friends get here. If I know Cummings he’s got some poor sap that’s willing to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Walt turns away once again to check his phone. In a fit of rage he throws it against the rock wall of the cave. Where the hell are you?

  “Weston,” Clark appears over the EMT as he’s kneeling on the kitchen floor. “How’s she doing?”

  “She should be okay,” he answers “She’s most likely got a concussion from this nasty bump on her head. But other than that, I’d say she’ll be fine. What happened here?”

  “Wish I knew all the details,” Clark says as he looks towards the living room where Will Sullivan is sitting. “Whatever happened here,” he adds looking back at Weston “It was bad.”

  “Any idea who the stiff is?”

  “Sullivan says his name is Eric Lydekker. He says he came here to kill him for some file he gave to the FBI.”

  Weston looks skeptically towards Will before replying “That guy? He doesn’t look like the secret agent type to me.”

  “How’s Jacob?”

  “Already in the ambulance,” Weston answers “He’ll be all right. You didn’t hit any arteries and the bullet went clean through. I’d say it was a good shot—Jacob would probably disagree with me though,” he jokes before saying, “He’ll probably walk with a limp from now on but he’ll live.”

  “Post a guard outside his room at the hospital.”

  As a stretcher is wheeled into the room Weston stands up asking, “You’re not coming to the hospital?”

  “Not right away. I’ve got somewhere to go first.”

  “What about him?” Weston asks indicating Will.

  Looking at his watch before answering Clark says, “Since it doesn’t look like any back-up is coming, I guess he’s coming with me.”

  Stepping out of the way of the stretcher Clark heads into the living room to gather up Will. As he approaches him he sees him quickly pocket a cell phone that he was studying.

  “Let’s go,” he says.

  “Where are we going?” Will asks.

  “Crater Lake.”

  As they approach Crater Lake through the swirling snow Gaetano sits back solemnly in the back seat of the squad car.

  This is the last place in the world he wants to be after what his father has done. But neither can he allow him to hurt anyone else and so here he is.

  He was by Scott’s side when they found him and told him only that his father was involved in a potential hostage situation and that he needed to come with them. Somehow, he doesn’t imagine that his father is the potential hostage.

  Pulling into the parking lot, he can hear the tires crunching over the gravel and the dusting of snow that blankets the space.

  “Alright kid,” his FBI escort Lee Myers says leaning over the back seat “We’re here. I’ll take you to the man in charge.”

  Nodding Gaetano turns the collar on his coat up before exiting the vehicle. The air outside has a bite to it as it blows snowflakes against his skin.

  Following the Agent through the intensifying blizzard he’s led towards the crowd of vehicles and police officers hunched beneath the overhanging rock at the mouth of a cave.

  Once out of the wind he blinks twice to adjust to the darker interior. Brushing the snow from his shoulders he hears his name being called.

  “Gaetano!”

  Turning all around he quickly sees his mother rushing towards him from out of the gloom. “Mom?” he asks confusedly “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

  As she reaches him she wraps her arms around his neck while kissing his cheek in one swift motion. Wrapping his own arms around her he can feel her trembling beneath her wool coat and holds her tighter.

  “Gaetano Anjou?”

  Looking over his mother’s shoulder he sees an impressive man watching him. He has the flat nose of a boxer and the knowing eyes of an owl. Gaetano’s gaze pauses only briefly on the scar on his left cheek before the man flips open his wallet to show his identification.

  “FBI Special Agent Caleb Fine, I’m running this operation.”

  With one arm still wrapped protectively around his mother Guy asks again, “What’s going on?”

  “Your father,” Caleb pauses to look at Olivia, “Your husband has broken the law.” Caleb looks pointedly back at Guy adding “And not for the first time.”

  “Why are we here?” Guy asks, “What has he done now? I was told there was a hostage situation.”

  “Potentially…there could be.” Caleb purses his lips as he struggles to find the right words to explain the situation.

  “Walt,” he begins “Has kidnapped someone from police custody and brought them here, we think to rendezvous with an accomplice. What they intend to do from there we don’t know and we don’t want to know.

  “You both are here because I want this situation to end peacefully.” Reaching out he places a comforting hand on Olivia’s shoulder saying, “Trust me when I tell you Mrs. Anjou that I intend to capture your husband unharmed.”

  “This is too much,” she says shrugging off his hand and turning to look at Guy. “Your father is a good man.” She reaches up and places her hands on Guy’s cheeks making him look at her. “You believe me don’t you Gaetano?”

  Her eyes are pleading with him to believe her but knowing what he does he cannot answer her truthfully without breaking her heart. Offering her a weak smile he takes her hands in his own and looks at Caleb. “My mother doesn’t need to be here for this.”

  “I’m sorry Gaetano, but she does. Walt may listen to her and give himself up.”

  “He’ll listen to me—I’m his son,” Gaetano protests.

  Shaking his head Caleb replies “I can’t be sure that he will and I think you know why.”

  Swallowing hard Guy closes his eyes as he realizes that Caleb is right. He wants to say that he isn’t, but he can’t.

  “What?” Olivia asks “What is it Gaetano?”

  Turning away from them Caleb directs Agent Myers “Get these two in vests and ready to go. Keep them with you and in the rear until I call for them.”

  Looking again at the huddled shapes of the Anjou’s Caleb sees them for what they are—a broken family—and once again faces the injustice of the world. Not for the first time in his career he’s bearing witness to the havoc one man’s mistakes can reap upon those he professes to love.

  Nodding at them he says, “Stay close to Agent Myers. He’ll keep you safe.”

  Walking away he overhears Olivia asking her son again what he knows and Gaetano answering “It’s all right mom, everything will be okay.”

  At the utterance of those words Caleb feels a shudder making its way up his spine. Like someone walking on his grave.

  The world appears and vanishes in time with the static rhythm of the wipers scraping across the windshield.

  Behind the wheel Clark Starling chances a look away from the snow covered and icy road towards Will in the passenger seat. “What are you playing with there?”

  Lifting it up for him to see Will answers “Jacob’s cell phone.”

  Squinting back through the windshield at the blizzard outside, Clark admonishes “You took that from the scene? That’s police evidence.”

  “And you’re the police,” Will points out.

  With an exasperated and exaggerated sigh Clark asks, “What did you take it for?”

  “He said something about having another appointment he had to get to. I was hoping I could find out where he was going.”

  “And?” Clark prompts him “Did you?”

  Concentrating on the phone Will mumbles “Not yet…Wait a minute, I think I’ve got i
t.”

  Passing Fall Street they cruise out of town on their way towards Crater Lake. The vehicle fishtails slightly as Clark attempts to accelerate before he slows back down again.

  “What have you got?”

  “Check it out,” Will shows him the phone “The last text message he received.”

  Taking the phone in his hand Clark quickly looks at the screen before refocusing on the dangerous road ahead. In the few seconds he’s looking at the screen he reads:

  QH FY HWFYJW QFPJ

  PNQQNL BFQY FSI XFNI

  MJ RZXY STY XZWANAJ

  “What does it mean?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” Will answers “You’re the cop remember?”

  Clark shoots him a sideways glance before running the message through his head again. Thinking aloud he says, “It just looks like gibberish to me. Maybe the phone got scrambled in the struggle.”

  Will simply shrugs his shoulders so Clark continues “Or…maybe it’s encoded so no one other than Jacob could read it.”

  “A code?” Will muses to himself.

  “Who sent the message?” Clark asks giving the phone back to Will.

  “No name, but it’s a 301 area code.”

  Thinking a moment first, Clark says, “That’s Maryland.”

  “Cummings,” Will slaps the dash with his hand saying, “It has to be from Cummings.”

  From the corner of his eye Clark sees Will rapidly tapping buttons on the phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Yes,” Will exclaims “We’re in luck; Jacob’s phone has internet access.”

  “And that’s lucky for us because?”

  “Something Lydekker said before he died,” Will explains “His last words were ‘Caesar shift five.’ I didn’t know what he meant by them until now.”

  Glancing over at Clark Will innocently admits “Well, maybe. I’m thinking it might have something to do with decoding this message.”