by Orson B Wolf
Buffy sat in her lap, eyes closed, enjoying the warm gust of wind. The dog appeared to be smiling.
“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Rachel said, reaching for her safety belt.
“That’s right.” Paul looked in the rearview mirror. His decision to leave the car at the outer edges of the lot had proven useful. The rioting had spread to the parking lot, and numerous cars in the area next to the tent were damaged: two were upturned and a third one was on fire.
Paul saw the green bus belonging to the hunters association. Its windows were smashed and dark smoke billowed out of it.
The radio was on and Rachel tuned into the local station. Reports of what had actually happened at the event were partial, but the picture began to come clear: the local hospital had admitted most of the casualties; three people had been killed and dozens more were wounded.
Some of the more severe injuries were caused by police horses. The hospital director promised that medical emergency staff would be working around the clock. He praised his staff for rising to the occasion despite the fear of an impending nuclear attack.
Paul lowered the volume. “They keep repeating the same things. But at least we now know no missiles were actually fired.”
Rachel nodded. “Right. That siren was scary.”
She looked at the emergency vehicles’ flickering lights, “I guess everyone were scared. But the Russians’ sirens sounded off too. They’re just as afraid as we are. And maybe that’s a good thing.”
He looked at Rachel. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” She froze. “You really don’t need to put yourself in more danger. You’ve done enough.” He genuinely meant that.
Rachel shook her head, refusing to answer. Paul continued with a soft voice. “Listen, I understand that you feel responsible for what happened to David, but it really wasn’t your fault.”
Her mouth contorted and tears welled in her eyes at the sound of his voice. “You have to listen to me. They took your dog. You couldn’t have known what they’d do to David. You couldn’t have guessed what they’re capable of. Anyone would have acted the same.”
Her lips trembled and she turned her face to the window.
“Rachel, what’s important is what you did next. You told me everything; you helped me search for David. You ran in the rain with me, you risked yourself. Your intelligence, the courage you’ve demonstrated.” He emitted an appreciative whistle. “The way you jumped into the freezing water to rescue his dog. Listen to me, and I say this from experience—there aren’t many people who would be willing to do what you’ve done for David.”
He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. She turned her face back at him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. David and Max will be fine, thanks to you.”
She looked up, sniffled, and tried to smile. “He must hate me so much.”
“I’m pretty sure that you’re wrong about that.” He smiled and looked in the rearview mirror while carefully reversing the car. Seeing her questioning look, he shifted into drive and winked. “Trust me, I know how boys think.”
They drove toward the exit and slowed down next to a police officer wearing a yellow vest. He gave them an inquisitive look.
Paul showed him his detective ID and the officer motioned for them to drive on. The car slowly slid on to the main road.
“Where do you live?”
“I already told you, it doesn’t matter. I live with my aunt.” Her words were tinged with anger, but Paul sensed that it wasn’t directed at him.
“Look, Rachel. This is no laughing matter. Another siren could go off at any moment. A real one this time. I, for one, know that the only reason I can still function is because I know that my wife and daughters are safe right now. This is what’s keeping me sane. I’m sure your aunt would also be much calmer if she knows that you are somewhere safe, I mean—”
She cut him off. “My aunt couldn’t care less where I am. She’s not even home. She’s probably in a shelter with her boyfriend.”
Her tone was sharp and to the point, as if reciting well-known facts. “When this whole mess started, and people began to talk about the missiles and all that, she told me she had no idea where she’d be when the sirens go off. All she said was that I had to go to the school shelter.” She hissed defiantly, crossed her arms, and turned silent.
Paul was silent as well. Things were clearer now. A moment later, he said, “There’s room at our place. I’m taking you with me. Just wait until you taste my wife’s famous soup.” He smiled at her.
“But—” She started answering just as his cell phone beeped to indicate a new incoming message. Paul raised his hand with a sharp movement and she fell silent as he picked up the device to read the message.
“Wow!” he exclaimed and stopped the car with a screech of tires. That sudden stop shook them hard and Buffy nearly flew out of Rachel’s lap. She started at him, fearful. “What happened?”
“I just got an update from my bosses.” He hit the gas pedal and made a quick U-turn.
“What happened?” she repeated.
Without taking his eyes off the road, he handed her the cell phone.
She read the message and her eyes widened in disbelief.
“David Robertson is one mile away from you, in the Little Lake Complex utility warehouse.”
67
Anubis
David heard a growl and opened his eyes. Max was sitting erect on the cold ground staring at the door.
David recalled the encouraging message projected on the plate: “Help is on the way.”
He opened his right hand. It was empty. Strange, he distinctly remembered holding the plate. Maybe it was in his other hand? He tried moving his left hand and the pain that throbbed through it was so strong it made tears well in his eyes. That had been a mistake. He forgot he mustn’t move his hand. For a moment, he continued to sit motionless, gritting his teeth, waiting for the pain to pass.
Finally, he took a deep breath and reached forward to feel the ground. His trembling fingers felt nothing but cold concrete. Had he imagined it? He gasped in panic. He couldn’t stay there. He’d freeze to death. He had to get out of there, especially now, when he finally realized what he had to do to prevent a global catastrophe. He just had to get to a computer with internet access.
Assuming it wasn’t too late. One siren had already sounded. The smell of smoke and the chaotic sounds coming from outside did not bode well.
He leaned toward the ground and urgently brushed the cold concrete with his healthy hand. Suddenly his fingers felt a flat object. He sighed with relief, lifting the plate in front of his eyes.
The strain made his head spin. The plate showed nothing. No thin letters, no greenish light. Nothing but a piece of dark plastic. He pressed the little protrusion with the picture of the bone.
Nothing.
Where had he seen that little illustration before? He had to focus. That plate was sewn into Max’s collar when his grandma had given it to him. It had lasted many days for this sort of situation. No wonder the collar was so thick. It must contain a durable battery designed to remain in standby mode.
He felt a weakness overtaking him again, and the room spun about him.
What had grandma told him about the collar? “The man in the store had it made especially for me, it was custom-ordered,” or something like that. But who was that man in the store? David was confused. He was angry with himself. He had a dim feeling that the answer to all the questions was right before his eyes, but his current condition made it impossible for him to think straight, or to join the pieces of the puzzle into a satisfactory answer. If only he could rest a little, gather his strength… He closed his eyes.
Max growled at the door again, louder than before. He bared his teeth. David opened his eyes. Someone must be approaching. He placed a weak hand on the large dog’s neck to calm him. “
Shh… Max. It’s probably Jackie. You don’t want him to know you’re here. Wait until he gets inside.” He stroked Max. Something was missing. The collar.
He really didn’t want Jackie to somehow guess that he had been able to call for help. The chances of that were slim, but Jackie had already proven his ability to understand what was going on by using nothing but faint clues. He spotted the collar tossed on the ground.
He reached his legs toward it. With a great effort, he pulled it to him and picked it up. Max stopped growling for a moment and lowered his head to sniff the collar.
“That’s right, Max. It’s yours,” David told him and fastened the collar back on his dog’s neck. The wet and cold fabric had made it difficult for him to properly fasten it, but it would have to do for now. David was hoping whoever approached them wasn’t Jackie, although it would be nice to see Max bringing that sadist down.
He looked at the dog, who rose to his feet now and stared at the door. His ears were erect and his body stretched forward. If looks could burn, Max would have drilled a hole in the door. David knew he had no chance of stopping that powerful mass of muscle. His dog had a personal score to settle with Jackie, and was already sniffing vengeance.
And Jackie undoubtedly deserved it. Damn it, David would have strangled him with his own hands if he could. He felt the huge bruise that bulged behind his head. An angry shiver passed through his body. Max seemed to have read his thoughts and menacingly bared his teeth at the door.
David stared at Max again, who towered over him. The dog looked beautiful. Under the faint illumination of the street light, he appeared like an impressive sculpture of Anubis, the Egyptian god of death. Last week, they showed them the image in school during a lesson about ancient Egypt.
Max growled again. David wanted to tell him to settle down but simply couldn’t. Instead of words, another coughing fit burst from his throat, painful and hollow. He closed his eyes and prayed for it to pass.
Then he heard a faint yet clear rustle: someone was pulling on the handle of the door. Max bared his teeth and began to walk forward. David felt that his hand would be torn off his shoulder unless he released his grip. He had to let go of the collar and Max quickly went to the door.
David’s heart pounded wildly. He breathed heavily, trying to hang on to consciousness and stay awake.
Someone was pounding at the door and he heard the loud sound of breakage. The door opened suddenly, and the room filled with faint light. A moment before reality slipped from his grip, he saw his dog leaping forward and heard someone shouting with surprise.
Then he fainted.
68
Gabriel
“David, are you all right?”
A deep voice woke David up. He strained to open his eyes but was blinded by a bright light and immediately shut them again. Through his closed eyelids, he felt that the source of the light was diverted aside. This allowed him to open his eyes again.
A worried face loomed close to his. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
David recognized the man. That scar on his cheek was unmistakable. It was that giant cop from the park, Paul’s friend. He had the name of an angel.
“How are you feeling?”
That was a good question. Actually, he felt great. He was no longer cold. There was a blanket wrapped around his body and his head rested on a soft surface.
“Where’s my grandma?” David asked hoarsely, and the words turned into a cough that burned his lungs. After he stopped coughing, he lay with his eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.
A bottle was pressed to his lips. David tried to drink but found it hard to lift his head. The man supported his neck and gasped with surprise. “The bastards busted your head open!” He clucked his tongue angrily.
David sipped some water. It was tiring. The man gently let his head press back against the soft and pleasant surface. David closed his eyes and a moment later felt a large, warm tongue licking his face. He opened them again and saw Max’s large face. The man grabbed the collar, pulling the dog back. “Enough, let him get some rest.”
David remembered that there was something he had to do. Something important. He tried to get up. A terrible pain pounded his left elbow. His vision clouded, and he dropped back at once, out of breath.
“Take it easy now. Get some rest. But I don’t want you to fall asleep. I’ll do the talking and you just nod your head. Are we clear?”
David nodded and closed his eyes again. He tended to agree with the man. His presence was comforting, soothing. Even Max felt safe beside him and obeyed him. Everything was all right, then. Max knew how to tell the difference between an enemy and a friend. David allowed himself to drift off into the realms of sweet sleep.
“Hey, are you with me?” the man touched his forehead softly.
David nodded tiredly.
“I have good news about your grandmother,” the man said. “We’ve found her and she’s safe and sound.”
A few seconds passed before the words trickled to David’s consciousness. “What?” he asked with a hoarse voice. He could hardly believe his ears. Grandma was safe. He just wanted to get to her, hug her, ask her forgiveness.
“How?” he whispered. “How did you find her?”
“Someone had sent us her exact location,” the man said thoughtfully. “They say that it’s the prophet himself.”
David tried to find the logic behind the words he was hearing. It wasn’t simple, he was so tired and struggled with his urge to close his eyes. Was grandma truly all right? He longed to know every detail. The man must have seen it in his eyes, because he added with a smile, “She’s at the hospital now, you’ll be reunited soon.” A moment later, he added appreciatively, “That’s some grandma you’ve got. She insists that you were the one who rescued her.”
There was a sharp blast outside and David recoiled in fear. Additional explosions followed, more distant this time. The man had heard the noises too, but did not seem to be too excited by them.
“You rest now, son, but don’t fall asleep.”
The man got to his feet and David opened his eyes slightly to catch a glimpse of him. He was huge. He touched something that was slung over his shoulder, and a bleep sounded as he stepped aside and spoke quietly.
“It’s me, Gabriel. I’m still here, inside the abandoned building. He’s conscious, but is suffering from dehydration, maybe hypothermia as well.” The reply was muffled and disrupted by static noises. David wasn’t able to hear what was being said.
“Where is the medical staff? I need them here now,” Gabriel demanded firmly.
This time the answer could clearly be heard: “The medical staff is on its way, they’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Roger.” Gabriel finished the call, drew closer to David, leaned over him and placed a soft hand on his forehead. “You’re all frozen up. If it wasn’t for your friend here, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” He patted Max’s neck appreciatively. The dog looked at him as if he understood every word and wagged his tail.
“This cutie here jumped me. Wanted to protect you.”
Gabriel took David’s wrist and felt for his pulse. “Good thing I grew up with dogs. I had a dog once, I called him Butch. He was a genius.” He concentrated his attention on taking the pulse. “Weak, but you’ll live,” he finally said and gave David an encouraging smile.
David tried to smile back. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.
“Good thing we got an update about your location,” Gabriel said thoughtfully. “Someone up there loves you very much, and I’m not talking about God. I have no idea how he knew where you were, but that’s a fact.”
David coughed. “Who told you where I was?” he asked again in a whisper.
“Didn’t you get it yet?” Gabriel gathered his equipment and seemed to be preparing to get going. “Looks like the prophet has a personal
interest in you.”
David tried to connect the bits of information he had heard into a single logical explanation, but could barely stay awake. His eyes closed and all he wanted was to rest, enjoy the warmth seeping into his bones, vanish into the dream.
The man seemed to have noticed that.
“You just rest now, you hear? It’s not like you need to save the world or anything. But hey, don’t fall asleep.”
David closed his eyes. The blanket wrapped him like a warm embrace. There was something that still bothered him, some important action he had to perform. Something that had to do with the things Gabriel had said, but he slowly drifted into sweet sleep. The man continued to speak, warning him not to fall asleep.
David was really trying to stay awake.
69
A Sense of Urgency
A sting in his right arm woke David up.
He opened his eyes. The bright lighting hurt his eyes, but a few seconds later, he was able to see clearly enough to inspect his surroundings.
He was outside, beside a row of stone buildings. One of the doors was broken and slanted on its side.
Four or five people moved around him and spoke animatedly. They smiled at him when they noticed he had opened his eyes. He was no longer lying on the ground, but on some elevated surface. A woman wearing a white outfit—a doctor, or a nurse, perhaps—held his right arm, which still ached from that bothersome sting. She smiled at him. “Sorry, sweetie.”
She gently pressed his hand to the side of his body and David lowered his eyes. He was wrapped in blankets and lay on what looked like a stretcher. A strap was tightly pressed to his chest, preventing him from moving. A slender tube coiled up from a needle in his arm all the way to an IV bag hanging above him.
The people surrounding him seemed stressed. Someone said, “Careful with the other arm, nurse, it looks like it’s fractured.”
The woman nodded and leaned toward him worriedly. “Are you with us? I need you to tell me your name.”