by Orson B Wolf
Morse nodded. “Suits me just fine. Let’s be brief. You claim that you have a connection to the prophet.”
Jackie corrected him. “I don’t need to claim anything. I already proved it to you tonight.”
“And I believe you. I believed you even when you first called me.”
Jackie looked at Morse with a smile. “Actually, it’s true. You took a chance. I liked that.”
“We’re both men who know how to take chances,” the older man said confidently.
He smiled at Jackie as if they were old friends and Jackie guessed this was how he gained his followers’ sympathies.
“What chance did I take?” he asked Morse defiantly.
“Hmm… I’m sure whoever you spoke with just now could easily answer that question.”
Jackie opened his mouth to answer, but this time it was Morse’s turn to silence him with a flick of his hand.
“There’s one question I need to ask you, Jackie.”
“Just one?”
Morse laughed appreciatively. This time his laughter even sounded genuine. “There are lots of things about you that I’m very curious about.” He turned serious and leaned forward. “But there’s one question that I’m particularly interested in right now.”
Jackie sat back and leaned on his elbows. He was almost lying on the table now. “All right, shoot.”
“Why are you here?” Morse motioned at the window. The sounds of the chaos outside could still be heard through the closed shutters. “You’re the only one who doesn’t seem scared out of his wits. Everyone is sure that the end of the world is coming and run about like mice in a trap, but you, you act as if this whole business is someone else’s problem.”
Jackie looked at him with a blank expression. That was true—he did not believe the end of the world was coming, but why? He had been asking himself the same question and was unable to come up with an answer.
Morse sat in front of him, waiting. This irritated Jackie. He raised his chin and replied, “What do you think?”
It appeared as if Morse had been waiting for that question. “I think you simply know something that others do not.”
Jackie flashed a little smile and knew that Morse interpreted his smile as a confession. But what did he care. That was even better. The more power Morse believed he had, the more power he would actually possess.
A phone rang. It was Morse’s device this time. “Yes,” he answered and listened silently. A minute later he said, “Thanks for the update. I appreciate it.”
He looked at Jackie thoughtfully. “So far, I wasn’t sure you had a real connection with the prophet. I thought you might be pulling my leg.”
Jackie had to get out of there. He coolly shrugged. “Meaning?”
“That was a friend of mine, a lieutenant colonel. He updated me that this was a false alarm. The Russians had turned on the sirens on their end, that’s it.”
“Good for us,” Jackie nodded lethargically, rose from the sofa, and pulled on his coat.
Before leaving, he turned around, looked at Morse from head to toe. He simply couldn’t stop himself—Morse was asking for it.
“I told you I’m in league with the prophet. How else would I know that no one would attack?”
65
A New Toy
Three taps, two taps, a single tap.
David kept his eyes closed. He had never felt so cold. He couldn’t feel his arms and legs. He guessed they were still attached to him somewhere—it was the sensible thing to assume.
He asked himself whether he would even succeed in opening his eyes. Not that he particularly wanted to—it would only allow the chill to infiltrate his eyes. He felt the cold wind threatening to break through his eyelids.
His teeth chattered uncontrollably, and his tongue rested in his mouth like a frozen ball. A faint snore suddenly sounded, just beside his ear. It sounded like Max. David dimly recalled that once—minutes, hours, or days ago—he had lay on the ground hugging Max. It was odd. How did Max get there? Were they still in the same position? He wasn’t sure, because he couldn’t feel anything other than the bitter cold.
He drifted off into unconsciousness again.
Three taps, two taps, a single tap.
His eyes popped opened—and immediately regretted it. The cold pierced its way into his eyes like icy nails. He hurried to close them and tried to decipher what he had seen. A cocoon of frigid limbs, dark fur, and large eyes looking back at him. Max’s eyes.
“Max, you’re here!” His hoarse voice sounded alien to his own ears.
He coughed with a sore throat and it weakened him. He felt dizzy and his head drooped to the ground. Several seconds passed before he realized something was wrong. Max wasn’t responding. David forced himself to gulp and tried to speak again.
“Maxxx, Maxie. Maxxx!” He rolled the name on his tongue and carefully opened his eyes again.
The dog looked at him with a frozen face, his brown eyes twinkled without moving.
“Max? Are you all right?” he asked with a trembling voice. A terrible fear suddenly washed over him, and he closed his eyes tightly.
David gritted his teeth, refusing to allow the terrible thought trickle into his conscious mind.
His amazing, heroic dog, his best friend, had come there to give him his warmth, thus saving his life. Now those wise, beautiful eyes simply stared at him, unmoving.
David refused to open his eyes and shook his head with disbelief. He whispered, “Please Max, just move a little. Act… normal.”
Tears erupted from his eyes as he opened them and looked again into the face of his dog.
Max blinked, opened his maw for a giant yawn, and raised one of his hind legs toward his ear. He began to scratch vigorously, his face demonstrating his pure delight.
David thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He wheezed with relief.
A hoarse and uncontrollable laughter rose from deep in his chest and turned into something else. He pressed his head against the large dog’s, and tears erupted from his eyes and absorbed into the thick fur.
Max stopped moving and tilted his head, looking at him curiously. His hind leg remained in the air next to his ear when David grasped him and cried loudly. The weeping transformed into a sharp cough and David felt as if his lungs were on fire. He coughed for many long moments, unable to stop. He could feel it draining what little strength he had remaining. David was exhausted. He breathed heavily and looked at Max, who returned to scratching his ear.
The boy sighed, allowed his head to drop back and simply lay on the cold ground. He closed his eyes and patted Max’s head. He took a deep breath and a strange wheezing sound rose from his lungs. He forced himself to restrain another outburst of coughing.
The commotion outside intensified. The cacophony of voices that reached his ears was much louder this time. Screams, loud explosions, sirens, and the rattling of vehicle engines. He also heard the sound of helicopters. A disturbing smell of smoke came to his nostrils.
Max flicked his ears and sniffed the air. He got to his feet, shook himself, and splashed David with freezing rainwater. He went to the puddle that had collected under the opening in the roof and drank thirstily from it.
Other than a slight limp, Max appeared to be perfectly healthy. He also didn’t seem to be too bothered by the cold, which made David happy.
“The vet did tell me that you might have a little Husky in you,” he said through clenched teeth.
The sky above him suddenly illuminated and he heard nearby blasts. Gunshots? David wasn’t sure. No wonder he had been awoken by the noise. But was it really the commotion outside that had roused him? Something was bothering him, an event that had happened in the past few minutes. The memory fluttered somewhere at the edge of his consciousness, unreachable, yet significant. David realized through the haziness obscur
ing his mind that he had to remember what it was.
And then, suddenly, he understood what had bothered him. This was the reason he had woken up in the first place. It wasn’t the noise coming from outside, or the smell of smoke. He opened his eyes because he had heard a special sound, right next to him. What was it?
Suddenly, as if directly replying to his question, it sounded again. Even though it was faint, David was convinced that it had originated from somewhere close. Perhaps even inside the room. He strained his ears and held his breath.
Three taps, two taps, a single tap.
David’s heart began to beat wildly. It was the secret code that belonged to him and… “Grandma?” he uttered, astonished. It couldn’t be. He tried to rise a little to a sitting position and failed. He was too weak, too thirsty. Max noticed his plight and drew closer. He sat next to David.
“Thanks, buddy.” This time he grabbed the collar and was able to pull himself to a sitting position. He waited for the sound to return. Now, with his head higher, perhaps he would be able to identify the direction from which the sound was coming.
But how? Only two people in the world were familiar with the secret code: his grandma and himself. Where was that sound coming from? Could it be that grandma was on the other side of the door right now? He shook his head and sighed. No chance. Jackie was holding grandma and had no intention of letting her go. Besides, no one knew where he was being kept.
He looked at Max. If anyone came near, the dog would have stormed the door with loud barking. The fact that Max did not budge from his place indicated that there was no movement toward them in a radius of at least a hundred feet.
David sighed, disappointed. He must have imagined the sound, like some sort of fata morgana, a mirage appearing on the horizon before the eyes of people lost in the desert. Perhaps echoes of the noises coming from outside vibrated off the walls and made him hear what his heart longed for.
He grabbed his left elbow with his right hand. Currents of paralyzing pain pounded across his arm. He gulped. His mouth was dry. He could not recall the last time he had drank water. He glanced around, seeking the bottle he had seen on the ground earlier. He located it, tried to raise himself on his knees, but instantly fell back. It’s hard to stand when you can’t feel your legs. Max stood, looked at him, then began to wag his tail.
An idea came into David’s mind. “Max, ball!” His cracked voice sounded terrifying. The stinging irritation in his lungs threatened to become another cough, but he held it back. Max stretched, and his expectant body gave him hope. David knew that the word was less important for the dog than the tone with which it was said.
He repeated the instruction. “Max, ball!” This time he tried to sound more cheerful and assured. He wasn’t entirely successful, but it was enough for Max to spring to his feet, lower his head to the ground and playfully stretch up his tail.
“Get the ball, Max!” David covered his mouth and stifled a cough. The dog jumped back and began to cheerfully run across the room, searching for the ball, or any other object David might have meant. He ran past the plastic bottle and with a flowing movement grabbed it in his mouth and happily ran back to David.
He handed the new toy to David and waited. It was David’s turn to toss the object again. David took the bottle from Max’s mouth and patted him gently.
“Thanks, buddy.” He turned silent and took a deep breath. He wanted to add, “Looks like you saved my life again.” But was afraid the words would cause another coughing fit.
He dipped the bottle into the water of the puddle next to him, making sure it was far enough from the wall Jackie had urinated on earlier. The water was shallow, but there was enough for a few sips.
He thirstily drank the precious liquid and felt it reviving him. He realized just how thirsty he was and hurried to dip the bottle into the puddle once more. When he started filling the bottle for the third time, he noticed that Max was still looking at him expectantly.
“It’s not a ball,” he told his dog hoarsely.
But Max bounded back and forth, waiting for David to throw this new, transparent toy again. He liked that new toy. It felt nice to crush it between his teeth.
David tried to wear a grim expression and say no with a stern voice, but the sight of his excited dog made him fail miserably. He pressed his lips together to stifle his laughter, but it was already too late: Max leaped forward and snatched the bottle from the hand of the surprised David.
He leaped with joy all over the room, his teeth crushing the bottle with crunching and squishing sounds.
Then David heard the sound again.
“Enough, Max!” he commanded sharply.
The dog realized it was serious this time and stood still. He dropped the bottle from his mouth and silently walked toward David, who held his breath and tried to listen. David heard three faint taps, then, a moment later, two slightly louder ones. Finally, a last tap, loud and clear.
David stared at his dog, surprised. The sound intensified when Max drew nearer!
His heart beat wildly as he grabbed Max’s thick collar and closely inspected it. Max remained still as David passed the tips of his frozen fingers over the ugly piece of bumpy fabric he had received from his grandmother.
In the pitch-black darkness of the room, he was unable to discern anything unusual about it. It was the same collar he had seen dozens of times over the past month. Perhaps something was hidden inside it? In order to check it, David had to take the collar off Max.
This wasn’t an easy task; the wet fabric had thickened and refused to slide off the metal ring and David, whose left hand was paralyzed with pain, could use only his right hand. He used his teeth and nails as well.
He shivered from the cold and struggled with the task. His eyes watered and his vision clouded. He gritted his teeth and strained to detach the piece of cloth from the metal buckle. Finally, he was slowly able to slide it out. With a careful movement, he removed the collar from Max’s neck.
The strain had exacted a heavy toll on him. He was so tired that he felt he was on the verge of losing consciousness.
Max curiously sniffed the thick collar. “That’s right, Max, you’re naked now,” David stated as the dog stared at the present grandma had given him. He turned the collar around, checked its underside and felt across its length.
Near the end, his fingers came across something unusual. A flat, hard object, less than two inches long, sewn into the fabric. He looked at the collar closely and noticed a kind of opening at one end of the fabric, a tiny hole.
He began to force the oblong object toward the opening. His vision clouded again from the effort and weakness overcame him. He stopped, took a few deep breaths and continued. Finally, he was able to remove the object from the tiny opening, and carefully held it between two fingers.
It was a tiny rectangular plate, flat and narrow. One side was completely smooth and the other had a small protrusion. David noticed a picture of a tiny bone. His heart began to beat wildly. Where had he seen that image before?
He placed his finger on the tiny protrusion and pressed. There was a loud click. A moment later, he heard the full sequence of the code: three taps, two taps, a single tap.
David held his breath and immediately tapped the reply: four straight taps. What now?
He turned the plate and nervously looked at the tiny screen. A greenish light flickered, but then a cough burst from his throat. David doubled over on the ground.
He had never felt like that, as if his lungs were burning up and fire rushing through his throat. He coughed and gagged, unable to stop himself. Shivers ran up and down his spine and waves of nausea rose from his stomach. He leaned forward and vomited the water he had drank.
After a long moment, the coughing fit finally subsided. David remained curled up on the ground with his head pressed against his knees. A wheezing sound accompanied his every br
eath and he tried to gather his strength. Finally, he lifted his head and sought the plate with his eyes.
He couldn’t see it anywhere; it must have dropped from his hand. Where was it? He looked around, feeling the wet ground with urgency. His fingers touched nothing but concrete and water.
Max’s snout pressed against his shoulder. The dog snorted. “Not now!” David grunted and continued to feel around the ground impatiently. Where could it be? He had to find it. He hoped the tiny object was water-resistant.
Another touch of the snout. Another snort.
David raised his eyes and saw that his dog was holding something in his mouth, a tiny object spreading a faint, greenish light. The plate!
Max gently held it between his teeth and presented it to David. The boy snatched the tiny object and eagerly inspected it. Something was written on it.
He hurried to wipe his eyes with the edges of his wet shirt and tried to focus. The green letters glittered on the plate’s surface, comprising five words:
“Help is on the way.”
66
U-Turn
“Buckle-up.”
Paul turned the wheel, shifted to reverse and waited for Rachel to comply with his request. They had been sitting in his heated car for the past thirty minutes.
They stared ahead at what remained of the Order of the Prophet’s gathering. The rioting and the stampede were already over, but the results could clearly be seen. Medical and police crews were present. Rescue vehicles were parked next to the tent, their red and blue lights flickering.
From a distance, the sound of additional emergency vehicles making their way to the scene could be heard. The results of the chaotic riot could be seen everywhere.
The heat in the vehicle was working full blast. Rachel took off her coat and hung it to dry on the back seat, in front of the air conditioning vent.