by Orson B Wolf
“What do you mean? Was she or wasn’t she abducted?”
“You bet she was. The door was broken and there were clear signs of a struggle.” He tapped his cell phone screen and showed Paul the picture of the bound and gagged Edna. “That’s what they sent her grandson. Shocking, isn’t it?”
Paul nodded. He could understand why David had been so terrified. Receiving such news, that your grandmother had been kidnapped—David’s parents must be scared out of their wits as well. He got straight to the point. “I’m looking for the grandson, David. Know where he might be?”
Gabrielle shook his head. “No one has seen him. We still have a small team inside, checking the apartment, but we’ve just received instructions to finish up and get going. There’s some serious mess on the streets, as you have probably heard.”
Paul knew. At such a time of emergency, the police needed every officer it had out there on the streets to keep the peace. If the instruction to get here had not come from the prophet himself, he doubted they would have sent even a single patrol car.
Gabriel touched the scar on his cheek, same as he always did when lost in thought. “I don’t get it. With all due respect to the kidnapped grannie, is this what’s on the prophet’s mind right now? We could be seeing that big mushroom in the sky any moment now, then it’s bye-bye grannie and everyone else in this city.” He shrugged and put his hat back on.
“If I were the prophet, I’d try to stop this. I’d use connections, intimidate some people, make promises to other people. You know what? I’d take over their computers and neutralize their missiles. Everyone says he can do anything.”
Paul said nothing and allowed his friend to go on.
“Then you have those psychos from the Order of the Prophet threatening to set public buildings on fire unless the prophet will go live today. Can you believe it?” He snorted with contempt. “Making a god for themselves, then trying to dictate to him what to do.”
Paul wanted to ask about the Order, but his friend glanced at his watch.
“Anyway, my department doesn’t handle this. From what I heard, there’s some pretty tight surveillance over their leader, Moses Morse.”
He opened the vehicle door. “Well, gotta run.” He started to step out of the car, then paused, pulled the door almost close, and gave his friend a worried look. “Most importantly, I hope Kate and the girls are in a safe place.”
Paul was moved by his friend’s concern. He clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, they’re on their way to my apartment.” Then he added, suddenly embarrassed for not having thought of it before. “I can check if there’s room for guests in our shelter. If you and Lizzie want to join us…”
Gabriel’s smile was warm and genuine. He waved off Paul’s offer with a quick gesture. “That’s all right, we’re good. The police shelter is built to standard.”
Paul insisted. “I’ll check anyway, it might get crowded in there with all the other cops.”
For a few seconds, Gabriel said nothing, just looked into the face of his old friend. Paul’s expression was grim and worried. Gabriel pushed the door all the way open and slid out of the car.
He lowered his head and told Paul, “I understand that you’re still looking for that kid. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too. You won’t be able to help him if you’re dead.”
A riot began outside: two officers were struggling with a man wearing a red raincoat. He screamed and raged as they pinned him to the hood of a patrol car. Gabriel slammed the vehicle door shut and Paul watched as he hurried to the aid of his friends.
Paul started the vehicle and began to drive away. When he approached the officers cuffing the hands of the rioter, he slowed down next to them just as the man screamed at the top of his lungs: “The end of the world, it’s the end of the world!”
Paul stepped on the gas pedal.
50
A Mother’s Instinct
“Eric still doesn’t know where David is. He promised to update me as soon as he hears anything.”
Emily ended the call and looked at her husband with a pale face.
He walked through the door, hung his coat at the entrance, and slammed the newspaper on the table.
The front page boasted a red headline: “Hours before an all-out conflict.”
The television was muted, silently showing the distressing images. The sight of the Russian missiles rising before a possible launch was spine-tingling.
The headline switched: “Five thousand missiles directed at the west. Public shelters now open.”
Benjamin tried to preserve an appearance of calmness, but he knew that his wife could easily read the concern on his face. He arrived back home earlier than usual.
“Is David with you?” she asked him the second he got inside. Emily was nervous, on the verge of being hysterical. She had left the house early to buy equipment and groceries for a possible prolonged stay in the shelter.
She was among the first to arrive in the supermarket and finished her shopping in less than an hour. Her original plan had involved taking David to the doctor, then putting him to bed without any argument. Before going out, she had quietly gone into his room and placed a hand on his forehead. She was startled, he was burning with fever.
Emily recalled what Dr. Stone had told her a year before, when David had contracted the flu. She wagged a finger at her: “Your son has a tendency to catch colds. You have to take care of him.”
At the time, Emily had thought it extremely rude of the doctor to scold a patient’s mother like that, but the point had certainly gotten through. This time, she intended to keep her eye on David like a hawk: make sure he did nothing but drink plenty of fluids, rest, and take whatever medicine Dr. Stone prescribed. No games, no walks in the rain with Max, no computer even.
When she had arrived home, she saw the glass of juice David had left on the table. It was almost empty, which was good—at least he had gotten some fluids in him. She went up to the second floor and walked into David’s room. He wasn’t there, and neither was Max.
She immediately called him, but found out that the line was dead. She was hoping that his battery had run out, but an uncomfortable feeling began to settle in her gut.
She wrapped herself with a coat and headed outside again, hoping to find him downstairs with Max. Tension grew in her when she couldn’t find him anywhere, not even in the nearby park, where she met a neighbor walking her two dogs. The neighbor hadn’t seen them either.
Emily now sat on the edge of the sofa, squeezing her cell phone in her hand, staring at the television intently.
Moses Morse’s face filled the television screen. The title declared: “Tonight, on the verge of a national catastrophe, the Order of the Prophet gathers. Morse will give a public announcement.”
“Oh, Benjamin, what are we going to do about our child?”
She rose to her feet, trying to hold back her tears. “He’s running a fever and walked out of the shower right into the street, probably with his hair still wet. All his coats are in the closet.”
Benjamin tried to soothe her. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a responsible kid, you know that, don’t you?”
She sighed. He sat down and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “He’s probably just walking the dog, or went to a friend’s house. Surely, he’ll be back any moment.”
“But no one knows where he is. Not even Eric. And his phone is dead.”
“Have you checked with your mom?”
“Obviously. That’s the first thing I did, but she’s not answering either.”
“That won’t be the first time she’s not answering her phone. I wouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
“Benjamin, I have a really bad feeling. Call it a mother’s instinct.”
He kissed her forehead and walked to the door. “He’s probably at your mom’s place right now, s
ipping Grandma Edna’s famous soup.” He picked up his coat from the rack. “I’ll drive up there and check.”
Emily refused to settle down. “It’s dangerous outside. Every weirdo and psycho is out on the streets, crying out that the end of the world is coming.”
Benjamin knew exactly what she meant. He had seen a few such gatherings on his way home from work. People were demonstrating against the prophet, or perhaps for him? A group of angrily screaming men had run past his car. It looked like a street brawl. One thing was certain, roaming the streets on a day like this wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Fear turns people into dangerous creatures.
When he drove into their neighborhood, he was surprised to see a police checkpoint. The officer standing beside it examined Benjamin suspiciously, and asked for his driver’s license.
Benjamin handed it to him and the policeman seemed to be appeased. “You have a good day, sir, drive safely.” He handed him back his driver’s license and motioned for the next vehicle to approach.
Benjamin was concerned. He asked the officer why the checkpoint was there. The answer was surprising.
“We have instructions to prevent infiltrators from getting into the neighborhood shelters,” the officer replied indifferently and motioned for him to move on.
When Benjamin widened his eyes in shock, the officer added, “Yes, you heard me right. We’ve already caught several people trying to break into your shelters.”
When he had hurried home, Benjamin thought how lucky they were to have a fully equipped nuclear shelter in their building; many people weren’t that privileged.
The telephone hanging on the wall started ringing, interrupting his train of thought. Emily jumped to her feet, but Benjamin was first to get to it.
“Hello?” He listened. “Yes, that’s right.” He looked at his wife. “Emily Robertson is here.” He hesitantly handed the phone over to her.
The official voice coming from the other end of the line did not bode well. “It’s a police officer, he wants to talk to you.”
She took the receiver.
“Yes, this is Emily Robertson.”
Benjamin tried to read her expression and prepared for the worst.
Her voice cracked. “That’s right, I’m Edna’s daughter, what happened?” She listened attentively until her eyes suddenly widened. She screamed, “What? No!” She dropped to the floor and let the handset slip from her hand. “I don’t understand,” she said to her husband. “What does it mean, ‘signs of a struggle?’”
Benjamin snatched the phone from the floor. The police officer was still on the line. “Hello? It’s me again. What exactly happened?” He leaned against the wall and listened carefully. His wife sat at his feet, still on the floor, and whispered in terror.
“Benjamin, what is going on? Where’s my mother? And where is our son?”
51
Streetlight
David was floating on a raft. He lay on his back and looked at the sky. The full moon lit up the clouds with milky illumination. They sailed quickly across the skies, blending with each other, then tore apart once more to form strange shapes.
One wore a human form. It was grandma. Her face drifted closer and David noticed she was saying something. Her voice was drowned out by the noise of the water slapping against the sides of the raft. He strained his eyes in an attempt to read her lips, but was unsuccessful. He simply couldn’t decipher her words.
She looked disappointed. He wanted to scream, ask her to speak again—this time he would listen more attentively. He opened his mouth, but not a sound came out.
Meanwhile, the cloud dispersed and her face dissipated into mist. The mist began to move and split into two blurry blotches.
David saw them slowly drawing nearer, a large blotch and a smaller one. They swirled around each other, becoming closer and clearer. He blinked and saw the large blotch transformed into Rachel. The smaller one looked like Buffy. The dog ran behind the girl, who seemed deeply concerned.
She looked around and cried out something, repeatedly. David was unable to hear her. He was about to shout, “Rachel, Buffy is right there, behind you!” But then the dog caught up to her and he realized Rachel was looking for someone else.
She turned her eyes in his direction and seemed to have noticed him. She began to run toward him with Buffy hard on her heels.
Rachel was so close now that David could almost touch her. He dreaded to see that her large eyes were set on him, wide with horror. Suddenly, she lost her footing and fell. She raised her head and started laughing, a wild insane laughter.
A wave smashed against the sides of the raft and shook him. David felt water splashing on his face. He smelled smoke. He coughed and tried to eject the water from his lungs when another wave crashed down on him and shook the raft.
He blinked and the images were gone. The moon had vanished as well, replaced by a streetlight. Far above him, clouds were slowly moving. Something hit David, then shook him again.
“Well, are you up or what?” The loud noise hurt his ears and David realized he had been dreaming.
He was lying on the wet ground and saw a wide opening in the ceiling, through which the streetlight was visible, its yellowish light flickering. Here, where David was lying, the darkness verged on pitch-black.
Pain was throbbing in his head and he could barely swallow. He rose up a little on his healthy elbow and reached for the back of his neck. His fingers felt a large lump at the base of his skull. It had the rough texture of something wet and clotted. He felt dizzy and let his head drop too quickly. He groaned with pain as it hit the ground.
David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His thoughts cleared a little and he recalled his meeting with Rachel. She had led him straight into the trap, carefully planning her steps.
At first she had taken Max’s leash so that Jackie and the others would easily restrain the dog. Then she had asked for his phone so he would not be able to update anyone regarding grandma’s location.
He saw her in his mind and could not decide which was worse: the pain in his head or the pain of her betrayal. His mouth was dry and he suddenly felt terribly thirsty. He licked his lips and coughed.
“Yes. I think you’re up all right.” That hoarse voice hurt his ears again. The smell of smoke got worse. It was cigarette smoke blown in his face.
“That was some sleep. Seven hours, at least.” The unknown person coughed.
David turned his head in the direction of the sound and tried to focus his vision. The dark shape towered over him. David’s head was dripping with water, and he saw the streetlight reflected in a nearby puddle.
He guessed that the stranger had splashed his face with water from the puddle. The shadow rose as the man stood up. A blinding rectangular light was lit and David blinked again. He identified the source of the light: a cell phone screen.
“So it goes like this.” David recognized the speaker now. Jackie.
“I know that you know…” He chuckled and went on as if reciting a song. “That I know that you know… exactly what I want.” He took another drag of his cigarette then tossed it at the wall with his fingers. The cigarette stub hit the wall and sprayed sparks in every direction before landing in the water with a hiss.
Jackie turned the phone screen toward him. The light blinded David, and he tried to organize his thoughts. He had to get out of there. He had never been away from the prophet software for so long. What time was it, anyway?
The skies outside were dark as tar. According to Jackie, he had slept for seven hours, and if that was true, the prophet was scheduled to go live on national television shortly. And what about grandma? His heart began to beat wildly. He had to get out of there and rescue her. She was being forcefully held at some unknown location, frightened and miserable.
He was cold and excruciatingly thirsty. The state of his elbow had worsened too. A dul
l, throbbing pain crawled up and down his arm. He could barely move it. Another memory suddenly rose in him as well. Max! What had that maniac done with his dog? He was afraid to know.
In the darkness, David tried to look at where he guessed Jackie’s face to be and blinked at the blinding light of the cell phone screen. He wanted to say something, but his head was still spinning and it was difficult to hang on to his thoughts. He coughed.
The light of the screen was turned aside as Jackie distanced himself a little. David heard the sound of a zipper opening, followed by a loud trickle. The stench of urine rose to his nose.
“Oh! That’s good,” Jackie sighed.
A wave of nausea crawled up David’s throat. He did not know if he would be able to distance himself from the disgusting puddle spreading on the ground. He was so weak.
“You know, David, I’ve been dreaming about this moment. We’ve been playing this cat-and-mouse game for so long, and actually, I feel kinda tired of it.”
David didn’t answer. He tried to focus on Jackie’s words, as the latter spoke in a tired, bored tone. It wasn’t easy. He could barely keep his eyes open.
“Your dog gave us some trouble, but we got rid of it.”
David tensed. “Max? Where is he? What have you done with him?” His voice was weak and hoarse.
“He’s still alive, I think.” It sounded like Jackie was now standing with his back to him. “Let’s just say he got what he deserved.”
“What?! If you’ve hurt him I’ll…” David sounded weak and insecure and hated himself for that. He was shivering from the cold, his head ached, and he was afraid he’d lose consciousness again.
Jackie continued to urinate. The sound weakened into a thin trickle before finally stopping. He sighed with satisfaction.