by David Boiani
He awoke in a cold sweat, confused and horrified. Slowly, the real world returned and instead of relieving him of his horrors, it just traded one for another. His real children were out there somewhere, their fate held in the hands of a psychotic lunatic. John rolled off the couch and for the first time realized Julie wasn’t with him. He stood and walked upstairs to the bedroom, stopping at the doorway. She was on the bed, asleep with an empty wine bottle in her hand. John walked over and took the bottle from her. He then emptied the house of whatever alcohol it contained. When done, he headed out the door for the station, the residue of his horrific dream still on his mind.
15:58:03, 15:58:02, 15:58:01…
Captain Johnson returned to Ricky with the majority of the list slashed.
“Most of these sights are either still in operation or don’t fit the physical properties of the scene in the video. The ones I’ve left are all possible sites, however, there is a something that may throw a wrench in your search.”
“What’s that?” Ricky asked.
“Have you ever heard of the Seattle Underground?”
“The Seattle Underground? No, what the hell is that?”
“Seattle’s original buildings were all built using wood. In 1889, a cabinet maker accidentally overturned and ignited a glue pot. The attempt to extinguish the fire spread the burning grease over thirty-one blocks. Instead of rebuilding the city as before, all the new buildings were made of stone and brick. They also re-graded the streets one to two stories higher than the original street grade, creating a series of underground passageways and catacombs. In 1907, the city condemned the Underground for fear of the Bubonic Plague. It was left to deteriorate and rot, often being used as illegal flophouses for the homeless. A small portion has been restored and is now used for guided tours, but there’s a whole network down there that’s uninhabited and empty. There’s a possibility that’s where John’s children are being held. There’re other possibilities out there, but that’s where we’ll start.”
“This city gets creepier and creepier with every day that goes by,” Ricky said.
“As well as its inhabitants. I’m going to get access down there and send a search party to scour the whole place. I know it isn’t safe, so we’ll have to take precautions that’ll slow down the hunt. I’ll get the feds on board also.” Captain Johnson left the papers on Ricky’s desk and headed for the room used as the FBI’s headquarters.
Ricky typed “Seattle Underground” into his computer’s search engine. An assortment of eerie pictures and stories came up. He let out a deep breath and clicked on the first one.
15:22:03, 15:22:02, 15:22:01…
Alexis walked her father down the steps of Harbor View Hospital and into the passenger seat of her waiting car.
“Before you drop me off at my place, take me to a liquor store. I need to stock up on some spirits if I’m going to be immobile for a while.”
Alexis hopped into the driver’s seat, smirked, and said, “Dad, no way. You’re staying with me until I feel you’re strong enough to be alone again. Also, the booze binges are over. I’ll help you break your dependency and get clean. Together, you and I will defeat it, if you promise me your full effort.”
Brian Simmons looked at his daughter with love in his eyes. He would rather die than let her down again. “Alexis, I promise you my full effort.”
Alexis smiled, pulled into the flow of the traffic and headed home.
15:09:03, 15:09:02, 15:09:01…
The dark figure watched the two children as they stood on the platform, back to back, waiting to have their necks snapped. His mind turned as he contemplated the scene. Must be such a terrifying, morbid existence for children, not yet really understanding the world and its intricacies and complications. Left there to hang, with only each other for comfort, so sad.
He threw his head back and laughed. Not a chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh that started in his eyes and ended in his stomach. The fit of enjoyment made him realize his belly was empty. He headed to the kitchen to make himself a peanut butter sandwich. The dark figure didn’t eat meat, as he thought it barbaric and inhumane. He finished making his meal and sat down in front of the computer to enjoy the entertainment, as he filled his empty stomach.
14:40:03, 14:40:02, 14:40:01…
John sat in Captain Johnson’s chair watching his children who looked frightened, exhausted, and hopeless. Ricky walked in the office and put his hand on John’s shoulder before sitting down next to him.
“We have some leads we’re working on.”
“What are they?”
“First, the Seattle Underground. Have you ever been down there?”
“No, how did you come up with that?”
“The captain said it makes sense. It’s pretty abandoned and dark, and it fits the video feed scenario.”
“I don’t know, it looks more like an enclosed tunnel of some sort.”
“There’s a network of catacombs and passages down there,” Ricky said as John’s stare left the screen and was now focused on Ricky. “I did some research.” Ricky shrugged his shoulders. “The captain’s organizing a unit of feds, swat, and detectives to search it as we speak. We should be ready to go live anytime.”
“What other theories?”
“Stampede Pass, Fort Lawton Tunnel… there are also quite a few sewer tunnels. We’re still researching all of the railroad tunnels and finding out which ones aren’t in operation anymore.”
“I want to be in on every search. I want to be there to save them when we find them.”
“John… I’m not sure—”
John kicked back in the chair and turned to look at his partner. “Ricky, don’t. This is my life. This is everything Julie and I live for. Without them, we’re finished — as a couple, and as individuals. If you’re my partner and friend, I’d like you to take me there. If you refuse, I’ll go myself.”
Ricky glanced back at the screen. “I understand, I’ll take you wherever this leads us.”
“Thank you.”
“I can’t imagine what you two are going through, John. I’m sorry.”
“This is what you sign on for, as a cop and as a parent. Having children is accepting a vulnerability that just isn’t there otherwise. It’s sacrificing your right to be happy, if it turns out that way. The fear, the constant worry of something hurting them, never goes away, remember that. If you choose to father a child someday, it could be you sitting in this chair watching him or her on a video. You could be the one comforting your wife as she drinks herself into oblivion because she can’t face the reality of what’s happening.”
Ricky just watched the video and remained silent until the captain called on his radio.
“Ricky, we got clearance, we’re going in. Meet me there in twenty minutes.”
“Got it,” Ricky answered as he looked at John. “You ready for this?”
John stood up and turned off the monitor.
“Let’s go.”
14:10:03, 14:10:02, 14:10:01…
Ricky glanced over at John as he drove them on the short trip from police headquarters to Pioneer Square. He noticed how fatigued he looked. John had always looked young and spry for his age, but now Ricky could easily make out the dark circles under his eyes, the stress lines that had become more defined overnight, and his disheveled hair which hadn’t been brushed in over a day. A feeling of despair struck his heart knowing his friend was in such pain. He turned his attention back to the road as he pulled onto Yesler Way in Pioneer Square. Moments later he turned onto 1st Ave and pulled up to the edge of the curb in front of the building used as the entrance to the underground tour. A mix of detectives, uniformed officers, and feds were already present and heading in two at a time to join the search. The partners got out and walked up to the captain who was standing by the door leading underground.
“John, how’s Julie?”
“Terrible, how many do we have searching?”
“All I had available and some feds. T
hat’s about forty, total. We estimate it’ll take an hour for a thorough search, maybe a bit longer depending on how they can move down there. Some parts haven’t seen a human in years.”
The sun set, enveloping the Seattle landscape in a dark, haunting hue, somewhere between dusk and the pitch-black darkness of midnight. John stepped outside and took a deep breath as he glanced up at the brilliant full moon and said a prayer in his mind to no one in particular. If this search failed, would he be able to rekindle his hope, or would he be emotionally crushed? He watched the final members of the force file into the underground. These were his brethren, his brothers, and they all knew what the stakes were in this case. They worked with an intensity and vigor that John respected and appreciated. The goal was always to save the innocent, but the rare times their profession touched their personal lives, the rest of the force would give that little extra to achieve their desired result.
“Doing okay out here?” Ricky asked as he walked outside.
“Just getting some air, anything yet?”
“No, most have just entered. I’ll be going in with Officer Connor shortly. The captain is organizing the map so we cover all of the areas as efficiently as possible. If your children are under there, we’ll find them, partner.”
“If they’re found, I want to be the first to know. I want to be there to escort them out.”
“Understood.”
Ricky patted John on the back and headed inside to begin his search. John’s eyes wandered back to the glowing round orb overlooking Western Seattle.
13:02:03, 13:02:02, 13:02:01…
John stood inside a makeshift office just outside the entrance to the underground and waited for a report, any report, of a rescue. Countless teams had checked in by radio with negative results. The captain stood over a map of the underground marking each portion that was vacant with a red X. With ever report returned to them, the chances of this being the site decreased. Captain Johnson glanced at John with a slight frown on his face.
“How many sections are left?” John asked.
“Four. It’s not looking good, John.”
As John heard the last four search parties report in, he got up and walked outside. He turned to find the beautiful, glowing moon high in the night sky, but a cloud cover had moved in and left a lonely, overcast, gloomy cover. A small tear fell from his eye as he walked to Ricky’s car, got in and laid his head back on the rest. Moments later, Ricky entered and drove them back to the station. No words were spoken. None were needed.
12:24:03, 12:24:02, 12:24:01…
Back at the station, the mood was somber. Captain Johnson sent out search parties to other possible sights, but with little confidence of success. John had spent ten minutes alone in the bathroom vomiting. When he came out he looked as pale and withdrawn as a ghost, an unhealthy one at that. After John informed Ricky of his wife’s wine binge, Ricky sent an officer by John’s house to check on her. He reported back confirming that her car was still in the driveway, and the house was dark other than the foyer light on the first floor, so Ricky assumed she was still in bed, passed out. Captain Johnson stepped in with the feds to work on a map of Seattle containing possible areas that matched whatever clues the video displayed.
“Hang in there, a few more minutes and we’ll have something to work on, hopefully containing a missing link,” Ricky said as John sat next to him with his head in his hands. John nodded his head and Ricky noticed a tremble in his movements that he’d never seen from John before. At that moment, he understood the depth of love that people feel for their children. He felt an ache start in the base of his skull and he leaned back to release some strain and pressure.
“How’s Alexis?” John asked, and Ricky’s head shot straight up, startled to hear him speak.
“She’s great, John. We are great.”
“Ricky, I can’t stress this enough; the people, the monsters we deal with doing this job are evil and we put our loved ones at risk every time we investigate a case. Don’t follow in my footsteps. If you want to have a family, move on to a different career. I tried but then I got weak and fucked it up.”
“I’m a detective, just like you are. The passion to do this job is anchored to our souls. We can’t just change. Partner, none of this is your fault—”
John stuck his hand up to stop Ricky mid-sentence. “It is. You know it and I know it. My choices led to this. Different choices, different outcome, meaning my children should be at home in bed right now instead of in some cold dark place, waiting to be hung.”
“Stay with me, partner, don’t lose hope. We’ll find them. I’ll find them if I have to search every possible area myself.” For a moment their gazes met and there was an understanding reached that they would always have each other’s back when the need arose. John gave a slight nod to confirm he understood, and Ricky went back to work.
12:00:03, 12:00:02, 12:00:01…
Captain Johnson sat in front of the computer, waiting for the expected email containing a clue to the children’s whereabouts to appear. Ricky sat next to him in anticipation while John sat on the floor, his back to the wall and his head in his hands. Suddenly, right on cue at twelve hours remaining, the email arrived:
আর t I s یﻙ N ای A س O g M L O د R t A O n U টি A O انا E i R ایل f L I n O N a تی
Two rows of assorted text appeared all in the color of blood red. The trio sat and absorbed the text before any dared to speak. They all had learned over the years that reacting too quickly usually leads to mistakes and wasted time. Patience and an analytical, organized thought process led to success. Captain Johnson was the first to speak.
“My God, what the fuck is that?”
“I don’t think God has been around these parts for quite some time,” John replied.
“It must be scrambled letters, like the word scramble games they have in the back of the newspapers. Some are obviously in foreign languages.”
“Must be, but there are nine lowercase letters,” Ricky observed.
John had gotten up and was now studying the text over Ricky’s shoulder. “There is software that can unscramble letters to make any words that are possible from the group of letters. This seems to be a combination with quite a few possibilities. Also, all the characters are red.”
“I’m forwarding it to the feds. We’ll need an interpreter. Looks like a few different languages,” Captain Johnson said, then headed for their office across the hall.
“I’m going to download the software we need to unscramble this mess,” Ricky said. John got up and paced the room, burning off some nervous energy. Suddenly, John was overwhelmed with the reality of what was happening. His thoughts turned in his mind like clothes in a dryer; his children, his wife, who was the man turning his life upside down, his responsibility in all of this… and why? He felt a wave of bile erupt from his esophagus and enter his mouth. He rushed to the bathroom and spit the rancid juices into the sink as the beginning symptoms of a migraine started to surface. A dull ache had started in his neck and he became lightheaded and dizzy. His vision blurred, and the light hurt his eyes. A sharp pain took over the base of his head and started to work its way up his skull. John flipped off the light and sat on the bathroom tile with his back against the wall.
Moments later he was unconscious.
11:36:03, 11:36:02, 11:36:01…
Julie awoke to a dull ache in her head and a mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert. She opened her eyes and for a moment, she was free of the tragedy in her life. Suddenly, reality returned like a brick to the back of her head and a knife into her heart. Her children were gone. She let out a small shriek and collapsed onto the bed again. She remained prone for another ten minutes before acquiring the courage to rise. She went to the bathroom to wash up. She then picked up her cell and called John. She needed to know where her children were. She needed to know if she could help in any way. There was no answer, so Julie threw the phone on the bed in disgust. She grabbed a jacket and made her way downsta
irs and out the front door toward her car, noticing the patrol car parked in front of her house. The driver’s side door opened, and an officer approached her.
“Ma’am, I have instructions to keep you here, safe.”
“I’m going to the station. You can stand in my way and get run over, or you can escort me there.”
The officer nodded then entered his vehicle and pushed the passenger’s side door open for her to join him.
“Thank you,” she said as she got in and they pulled onto the road.
11:00:03, 11:00:02, 11:00:01…
Gianna licked her lips to moisten them with the small amount of saliva she had left in her mouth. Dehydration had started to set in and she started to feel light headed and nauseous. She imagined a tall glass of ice water and how good it would taste and feel going down her parched throat. She turned to look at her brother’s face illuminated by the glow of the camera recording them. Ryann was in a deep sleep, which Gianna was thankful for. She wanted her little brother’s suffering to be as limited as possible. She prayed her father was on his way to save them. As she looked toward the camera, a small tear escaped her eye. She had been holding in her sobs to appear strong for her brother, but now that he was asleep, she had to let go for a bit. She was scared of dying. She was frightened of being hung like she saw in the movies. What if dad doesn’t make it in time? What if we die of thirst? What if the platform opens and our necks snap? What if…?