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Chapter or Story
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Rescue
Undisclosed vicinity
She was dreaming and she was aware that she was dreaming. Her dreams were becoming her reality, the only way to keep her thoughts closed to the hidden camera she had spotted in the ceiling. In her dreams her mother came, sometimes to give advice, sometimes to just hold her.
She would also imagine his hands holding her; she would imagine another outcome to that time at Ocee’s. She would dream of coming closer, the distance between her and Jarod shrinking until she touched his lips in a kiss so chaste it reminded her of her innocence and their shared kiss in the lab. Her dream would then stray to their moment in the Centre’s limo, his hands reaching towards her pleading for a turning point. But this time she would hold on to his, and not slip them out of his grasp.
Her actions would be different each time she dreamt, but the ending always turned out to be the same. The dream would evolve into a nightmare that always returned to the same recycled words. She kept turning away from him, telling him that he needed to forget her moment of weakness and pulling her hands from his grip. Digging deeper into her buried memories, she would know that this is a dream; that in reality Jarod would always be her constant, her compass. She wanted to hold on to that elusive glimmer of hope, to take the courage to love again. However, the doors always slammed shut around her heart with the key disappearing into the distance and a hand closing around it. She would follow the key to the hand, her eyes moving past the wrist, to the elbow towards the shoulder and neck. Following the throbbing main artery, ever upwards, she could see the face of the one who held the key. And this was to be the true realisation of her nightmare. The face that looked back at her was none other then her own.
But this is a dream and in dreams, reality is your own fears realised.
**********
The Centre
J was staring at his hands. Turning them left, and then right, he took in his the blue crisscross of arteries, his fingernails jagged and broken, his palms grazed. His gaze re-centred on the bars that held him in place and the unblinking eye of the camera. Slowly, aware that every move was recorded, he pulled the blanket around his shoulders, his face turning away from the intrusive black iris. Fully hidden underneath the coarse material, he allowed the sobs to come.
**********
Thirty miles outside Blue Cove
Jarod sat between Lyle and Willie. Leaning his head back, he allowed the turn of the wheels to drift him towards sleep. He was emotionally tired; the added stress of J’s capture and the uncertainty regarding his father’s fate taking its toll. He had asked Lyle about his father and had only received a sinister smile, increasing the feeling of dread, his brain working overtime on possible reasons for the smile. His escape plans now discarded, he had yet to see a way out for both him and J. At least Miss Parker would be rescued, though why Lyle wanted to be one to do it was a mystery.
His hands were cuffed in front, his clothes changed to black jeans, T-shirt and brown jacket. They had given him a brace for his leg; it sat tight around his lower leg, bringing some relief from the pain. There was nothing more to do than wait until they entered Maryland. His head drifted sideways, his cheek resting against the back seat of the car, his breathing deepening before a deep slumber finally took its hold.
**********
Safe House – 21: 00
He watched from a distance as the lights went out in the top room. His focus moved down towards the left window, the curtains partially drawn but enough for him to see the room’s interior. Seated on one of the couches was the daughter with paper strewn around her. The paramedic entered his sight, talking to the girl before moving off again. A small smile settled when Major Charles and his wife moved in view, seating themselves in the other couch. The Major stretched forward, his hand coming back into view - the Glock 17 firmly held in it. Reassured by checking the clip and chambering the first round, he holstered the gun. His wife said something, to which the Major replied. Giving her a small kiss, he stood. Checking his watch, the other two rose from their seats.
He watched them move from his sight. The front door opened, light spilling outward onto the porch. He saw the tearful goodbye before the Major and paramedic moved off. The car drove past his position, his smile widening ever so slightly at the thought of the two women left behind, alone.
**********
The Centre – Monitor room
Broots entered the room, checking its occupants before proceeding. His eyes traced across the multitude of screens to the one that displayed Jarod’s cell. Sydney had asked him to make sure that Jarod was there before he went home.
“Oh, no.”
The cell was empty, no occupant noticeable. Walking closer, he noticed one of the techs he knew.
“James, uh, where is the guy who’s supposed to be here.” His finger pointing to the guilty monitor.
“Oh, Mr Lyle has transfer papers for him. He will be back by tomorrow.”
“Um, ok. Thanks.”
Turning, Broots walked out the room, hoping he would be in time to phone Sydney with this new piece of information. Just outside the door, he collided with someone. Not really noticing whom, he tried to step around the person, his thoughts flooded with the implications if Sydney tried a rescue attempt without Jarod present.
It was only when he heard the wheezing that he finally took note of the person he had collided with.
“Going somewhere…Mr Broots?”
“M…Mr Raines, I…I didn’t…I…uh, I mean….yes.” Stammering, he tried to get out from under the scrutiny of the bald man. He tried to scuttle around the other man, without appearing guilty, and not really succeeding when he felt Raines’s clammy hand on his arm. Looking into the watery eyes of the half-dead man, he shivered.
“What were…you…doing…in the ….monitor room?”
“N…nothing, I…just wanted…James…” breathing deep, he started again, his thoughts as jumbled as his words. “I saw a g…glitch in o…one of the search p…patterns Jarod…had me programme, I, uh…wanted to s…see where he….” fading, his words came to a halt. His heart sank when Gar took his arm, pulling him past Raines.
“I…think we …should have…a talk…about your…future, don’t you…Mr Broots?”
Nodding, Broots gave one last look at the hallway, towards where Sydney’s office was one floor up. Allowing Gar to lead him, he followed the squeak of his perceived doom.
**********
Safe house – 21:30
Margaret put the last of the dishes away. She never before had such a positive belief that she could finally see her family get back together again. Soon she would see Jarod again. She knew about J and it angered her to think what the Centre was capable of in its incessant greed for power and money. That they would create another human being for no other reason than to exploit his abilities. She promised herself that J would come to understand a mother’s love, that he would be safe in her arms.
Walking towards one of the backrooms they have decided to set up for J, she joined her daughter.
“Is everything set up, the bandages and medical supplies?”
Her daughter smiled, rolling her eyes before acknowledging a question she must have asked three times already. If not for Emily, they would not have come here. After Emily had met up with her in Washington, they had decided that they needed some rest from the Centre and their search. Her daughter remembered this place and they came here, not expecting to meet her husband. That moment when she saw him still lingered in her mind. He looked so much like the young man she had fallen in love with, the same love-struck look on his face. A small smile played on her face, her eyes twinkling as she remembered the kiss.
A knock on the door ended the thought. No one else was supposed to know about this place. Motioning to her daughter, they dosed the room light, although it was too late. Whoever it was would have seen the light. Silently, they waited. A second knock came, more insistent. All the years of running had honed her instincts and something about this situation did not sit right. Quietly, she grabbed her daughter. They crept to the back window. Drawing the curtains back, an involuntarily scream left her. The white visage of a face looked back at her, grinning. Running, they sped from the room. Looking around her, she tried to think were to go as the tinkle of glass being broken reached her ears. The front door was vibrating as whoever it was, kicked at it. She grabbed the fire stoke, her grip tight around the shaft. She waited as Emily pulled a pan from one of the fasteners in the kitchen. Having made her decision, she pulled the backdoor open, Emily swinging. The gong as the pan connected sounded loud in the silence, vibrating around the clearing in front of the back door. Not stopping, they ran into the woods, the sounds of shouts and pursuit coming behind them.
**********
Safe house – 21:40
For the third time in a couple of days, he lost his temper. The man that was supposed to have guarded the back door was trying to rise to a sitting position. The other two men he had brought with standing next to him. They had lost the women in the initial hunt, a more detailed search needed now. Calmly, he took out his gun. Without any hint, he pointed it at the struggling man and pulled the trigger. He only received slight satisfaction from killing the incompetent man, his eyes searching the surrounding area. With one last look at the body, his eyes travelled to the other two, their eyes cold and portraying no remorse over the death of their teammate.
“Find them.”
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
The nightmare had been so real; she could still smell the gunpowder in the air. The blanket was tangled around her body, increasing her feeling of claustrophobia, her thrashing not helping. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her hands fighting the suffocating hold of the blanket before she became fully aware of her surroundings. Sinking into the softness of the pillow, she wiped at the wetness on her face. She had managed to twist the blanket around and in between her legs and the chain, turning her body so that she faced the cupboard. Memories assaulted her body again, the bullet-ridden body of Tommy smiling at her. Shuddering, she firmly pushed it back. She stubbornly ignored the hole of hell, not wanting any other reminders of her past or possible future. Pulling at the warm cloth, she finally escaped from its embrace. It was only then that she registered that the door was open. She was drawn to the inside, her hands shaking.
Shaking her head in denial, she looked in on darkness. Something chipped away on her defences, gaping holes starting to appear. She couldn’t focus, her hands falling over her ears. Falling on her knees, she curled tight, her forehead touching the ground as if in worship.
Whispers entered her mind, swirling inside. The sound hissed and spat untruths that wanted to be heard. She couldn’t concentrate, could do nothing under the barrage. They came from everywhere, her soul immersed in the vortex. She tried to fight it, to stand firm. Phantoms laughed in her face, taunting her weakness. Ghosts of the past reared up, adding their voices to the clamour. Too late she realised what was happening and why. Tattered, bruised, and mortally wounded, she took her stand and fought for her sanity.
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
He smiled and then laughed. Parker had finally succumbed, although admittedly he had to help her a little by opening the cupboard to force her to look in on her destiny. Turning from the screen, his step was light as he walked from the room and away from the silent, cowering figure.
**********
Safe house – 22:00
The snap of a branch swung her head to the side. Breathing shallow, she waited. The shadows changed, the dark blue morphing to the black moving shape of the stalker. Her hand slipped slightly on the fire stoke. Increasing her grip, she waited. They had no choice. They couldn’t leave the area; she had no way of letting her husband know what happened. They had left everything back at the house.
She eyed the distance, waiting. The step that took the man closer, also brought with it a swinging arm full of determination and a mother’s fight for her family. He never knew what hit him, his body crashing into the undergrowth, deadly still.
‘One down, two to go.’
**********
The Centre – 23:10
Broots had no idea where his luck came from, but he had a fair idea just to thank her for his share. He might have been in a meeting for two hours, but all Mr Raines wanted was to tell him how appreciative the Centre was of his skills and that a raise might be in order. He hurried, nearly running in his haste to get to a secure phone. He needed to speak to Sydney and tell him about Jarod.
**********
Route 425 – 23:30
The surrounding area was sheaved in darkness, the moon not enough to bring light. The two-lane secondary road was quiet, the stillness rudely broken by the twin lights slicing across the road. A bend in the road finally allowed the occupants to see their destination. An old, broken-down church waited in front of them. The roof was gone, one wall broken in half. The windows gaped open over the unkempt grounds, gravestones chipped and long forgotten.
The interior was silent, all of them taking in the surroundings, the headlights creating surreal shadows that crept from the broken crevices in the walls down towards the full grown weeds, discarded equipment and dusty ground. A command from Lyle and the driver cut the lights. Nothing moved, no night sounds from birds to lighten the mood, no wind rustling the leaves in playful banter.
“Lyle, I need my hands.” Holding them for the blond man, Jarod waited for the arguments from Lyle. He was slightly surprised when Lyle took out the key and unlocked the cuffs, but considering Lyle’s earlier threats and the boy waiting back at the Centre he knew there was nowhere for him to run.
Jarod followed Willie as they stepped from the car. The brace helped a lot and he managed to make his way into the churchyard without any help. Turning on the spot, he took a more careful look of the surroundings till he finally found what he was looking for. Just in front of where the main entry used to be, was the sundial. It was set in the centre of the path leading to the arch of the main doors. He approached the edifice reluctantly, aware of Lyle’s eyes on him. A nest of spiders had settled there, the face covered in the silk strands of their web. Peering closely, he could just make out the faded carvings on the blue-grey stone, the middle stand long since broken and discarded. He looked back at the car with Lyle leaning against it. Taking a deep breath, he followed his dream he had the previous day, walking to where the numerical ten pointed.
The old storm shelter was only that in name, the wood rotten and the door hanging on one hinge. Entering the darkness, he stopped when a command from Willie was whispered harshly. The flashlight nearly blinded him, killing his night vision. Grabbing the one the dark man offered, he inspected the stairs in front of him. They were worn down from countless feet that must have traversed them. The church had used this as a storing place for their garden tools at one stage, the remnants of some of the tools still lying around. The room was stifling, the air coming from the broken door mixing with the mustiness of disuse. His flashlight created a pool of light from which things rustled and escaped as he swept it around the room. His sharp gaze finally settled on what he needed. To the back, tucked away in the corner was an old shovel, the handle broken three quarters up. Even in its state, it didn’t seem to fit in with the rest. Stepping closer, he removed the tool, taking note of the wall. The boards were tucked in too tight, too new to be part of the rest of the room. His fingers followed the boards, the roughened wood digging splinters into the tips. The latch was cleverly disguised, made to look like a darker age spot that marred the plank. Pushing, he heard the click, the whole section swinging inward on oiled hinges. Taking one last look around him, they descended into the darkness that had opened before them.
**********
Turn-off just south of the Centre
The lights dimmed, the car crawling to a standstill. The driver door opened, feet crunching on gravel. A loud whisper followed, the person squinting into the darkness. It was answered, the rustle of leaves being parted followed by a pair of feet quietly pressing on gravel before doors silently opened and shut with barely a whisper. Turning, the engine started. The rescue mission was underway.
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
This is a dream. And in this dream, darkness ruled. She called in her broken defences, cradling them close her breast, her heart pumping away her lifeblood. The sky was black; there were no stars to bring light. She was seated against an old, dead, acorn tree. The bark was rough against her tender skin, the stark branches reaching for the sky, empty of any green. The grass cut into her feet, their stalks brown and dead. She could barely see the black shadows of the land around her. A lone tear slipped down her cheek, her only emotion to the death around her. Another excruciating stab of pain from her wound made her gasp, bending her body in half; her hands holding tight to the tendril of life that seemed to be slipping like a golden thread of light from between her fingers. She continued her hold, tightening her fingers even more on the elusive thread.
He followed the slightly slanted shaft, down into the depths of Hades. His feet shuffling, the limp noticeable. Now and again, he looked behind him, where Willie was following to make sure he didn’t disappear. As if he could, seeing that no openings or turnoffs greeted their small circles of light that their flashlights created. It ended abruptly, his light greeted by a closed wall. To the left of him was a ladder, stashed neatly against the wall. Small slivers of light escaped between the square blocks of steel set into floor in front of him. Looking at Willie, he silently asked the dark man to help him. One kick was all it took.
This is a dream. And in dreams, there has to be hope. Fighting, she stubbornly held on, her fingers dripping with blood.
The clatter of the grate sounded loud to Jarod. Pulling at the ladder, he lowered it into the room.
A stairway to heaven opened. The darkness parted before her - a thin sliver of light descending. She almost believed it could be true, the light no more than a pinstripe.
Swinging his body over the gap, he took the steps carefully, descending slowly. He was halfway down when he took a quick look around him. The room wasn’t that big, about the size of his cell back at the Centre. Through the steps of the ladder, his gaze settled on the toilet. Tucked into a corner on the same side was a box full of tins and water bottles. The other side held bedding. A small open cupboard door met his gaze, the angle preventing him from seeing the inside. What made him start down faster was the body that lay close to the bed.
She looked in wonder as an angel appeared, somehow looking familiar. Her wound ached; ignoring it, she continued to follow the angel’s decent.
Jarod wanted to cry. Parker was curled in a protective position; her eyes open but not seeing. From her left ankle snaked a chain, set securely into the wall by the bed. He could see the inflamed skin poking from behind the cold steel. Her hands were bandaged, the reason behind that not something he wanted to speculate on. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he approached her in the same manner you would a frightened deer.
You’re not real. This is my nightmare… You’re not real; you’re only my dream…
Kneeling painfully, he reached for her. Gingerly, his fingers brushed her hair from her face.
This is a dre…
Softly, his voice full of compassion and love, he uttered her name, “Parker.”
The angel’s voice sounded so full of compassion, it relieved the ache in her heart. It hurt less and she wondered if this is what happens when you die…And then she wondered, if this is a dream…can I die?
Carefully he sat down beside her body, aware of the time constraint.
The angel knelt by her side, his closeness bringing comfort. She wanted to let go, a sob escaping before she drew her broken defences close again.
Jarod did the only thing he could. Gently, incredibly soft, he started to sing the nursery rhyme that had always drawn him back from his brink of the precipice of insanity.
His voice sang a song so beautiful she never wanted to forget it. Tilting her head, she closed her eyes to listen. The words started to heal, closing the gaping death wound that had punctured her heart. She wanted to float on their love, but then she remembered, this is only…
She responded, shifting a little closer to his body. Her eyes still staring inward, but there was hope. Aware of Willie waiting above, his hand slowly started a comforting rub on her back, continuing the song.
Somehow, this was different. She tried to ignore the hidden messages; enjoying the touch…she frowned. Is this a dream? Looking around her, the sky was changing; dark, roiling clouds making way for pastel colours of sunrise. The hurricane turning into an invigorating breeze, bringing with it strength. The grass, dead and dying under her feet, sprouting green shoots of life. Her sight returned, and with it, the hope she had been searching for.
“Jarod?”
Looking into the murky eyes, he quietly nodded. Pulling her into his arms, he held her fast, her head over his beating heart. Her arms forming a protective barrier between them before she slowly unfolded them. They encircled his body tentatively, her heartbeat and his beating in unison. Holding her like that for a minute, his throat constricting. He could feel a wetness starting to creep into his shirt, Miss Parker silently crying into his chest. Ignoring the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, he finally allowed the present to bring them back to their danger.
“Parker, I’m sorry, but we have to leave. It’s not safe.”
She didn’t want to let go. He was the thread that stopped her fabric of reality from unravelling completely. Holding tight, she slowed the tears, nodding slightly into his chest. She lessened her hold on him only slightly, aware of every move he made through the thin T-shirt he had on. He stretched past her, pulling her legs closer. She could feel him work on the shackle, the slight scraping from the tool he used sounding harsh in the stillness. The click vibrated around the room, her left leg suddenly free of the heavy constraint it had been stuck with since she had been here. She felt his muscles tense, a gasp escaping his body. She knew that her leg wouldn’t be pretty, she had been aware of the scabbing and inflammation that the friction of the chain had left on her skin. She was suddenly, irrationally afraid that Jarod would be so disgusted that he would leave her here. She increased her grip, her face burrowing into his chest; not wanting to look into his face and see his revulsion. She felt his fingers light on the area, tracing the pain. She heard his murmurs as he apologised for what had been done to her. Again, he gently told her that they had to leave. She really wished for that to be true.
He muscles stretched underneath her hold, and she felt Jarod pull the slippers tenderly onto her feet. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, her legs weak but holding. When he tried to loosen her hands a little, she nearly panicked. He was going to leave her here; maybe this was just part of her continuing nightmare. Shaking her head, she whimpered into his shirt. His tender voice finally registered. Changing her grip so that she tuck underneath his arm, she allowed him to steer her towards the ladder. Her heart clenched in pain, not wanting to loose her one real thread when she had to let go of him in order to climb. He seemed to realise what she wanted for he kept close to her, climbing behind her, touching her occasionally to let her know he was there.
Reaching the darkness, she nearly lost her grip in fright when a hand pulled her through. Squinting, she waited as Jarod was helped through. She tried to think, tried to imagine why Willie was here, but her thoughts scattered again, her only thought again to hold on to Jarod. Grabbing his hand, she followed his directions, happy that she didn’t need to make decisions, not caring why Jarod had a brace around his leg or where he was leading her too.
This might be part of a dream, but in this dream, she was free.
**********
Happy to hear your thoughts, might just lead to an influx of Muse.
Thanks for all the great reviews; it keeps my fingers typing…
Rescue
Undisclosed vicinity
She was dreaming and she was aware that she was dreaming. Her dreams were becoming her reality, the only way to keep her thoughts closed to the hidden camera she had spotted in the ceiling. In her dreams her mother came, sometimes to give advice, sometimes to just hold her.
She would also imagine his hands holding her; she would imagine another outcome to that time at Ocee’s. She would dream of coming closer, the distance between her and Jarod shrinking until she touched his lips in a kiss so chaste it reminded her of her innocence and their shared kiss in the lab. Her dream would then stray to their moment in the Centre’s limo, his hands reaching towards her pleading for a turning point. But this time she would hold on to his, and not slip them out of his grasp.
Her actions would be different each time she dreamt, but the ending always turned out to be the same. The dream would evolve into a nightmare that always returned to the same recycled words. She kept turning away from him, telling him that he needed to forget her moment of weakness and pulling her hands from his grip. Digging deeper into her buried memories, she would know that this is a dream; that in reality Jarod would always be her constant, her compass. She wanted to hold on to that elusive glimmer of hope, to take the courage to love again. However, the doors always slammed shut around her heart with the key disappearing into the distance and a hand closing around it. She would follow the key to the hand, her eyes moving past the wrist, to the elbow towards the shoulder and neck. Following the throbbing main artery, ever upwards, she could see the face of the one who held the key. And this was to be the true realisation of her nightmare. The face that looked back at her was none other then her own.
But this is a dream and in dreams, reality is your own fears realised.
**********
The Centre
J was staring at his hands. Turning them left, and then right, he took in his the blue crisscross of arteries, his fingernails jagged and broken, his palms grazed. His gaze re-centred on the bars that held him in place and the unblinking eye of the camera. Slowly, aware that every move was recorded, he pulled the blanket around his shoulders, his face turning away from the intrusive black iris. Fully hidden underneath the coarse material, he allowed the sobs to come.
**********
Thirty miles outside Blue Cove
Jarod sat between Lyle and Willie. Leaning his head back, he allowed the turn of the wheels to drift him towards sleep. He was emotionally tired; the added stress of J’s capture and the uncertainty regarding his father’s fate taking its toll. He had asked Lyle about his father and had only received a sinister smile, increasing the feeling of dread, his brain working overtime on possible reasons for the smile. His escape plans now discarded, he had yet to see a way out for both him and J. At least Miss Parker would be rescued, though why Lyle wanted to be one to do it was a mystery.
His hands were cuffed in front, his clothes changed to black jeans, T-shirt and brown jacket. They had given him a brace for his leg; it sat tight around his lower leg, bringing some relief from the pain. There was nothing more to do than wait until they entered Maryland. His head drifted sideways, his cheek resting against the back seat of the car, his breathing deepening before a deep slumber finally took its hold.
**********
Safe House – 21: 00
He watched from a distance as the lights went out in the top room. His focus moved down towards the left window, the curtains partially drawn but enough for him to see the room’s interior. Seated on one of the couches was the daughter with paper strewn around her. The paramedic entered his sight, talking to the girl before moving off again. A small smile settled when Major Charles and his wife moved in view, seating themselves in the other couch. The Major stretched forward, his hand coming back into view - the Glock 17 firmly held in it. Reassured by checking the clip and chambering the first round, he holstered the gun. His wife said something, to which the Major replied. Giving her a small kiss, he stood. Checking his watch, the other two rose from their seats.
He watched them move from his sight. The front door opened, light spilling outward onto the porch. He saw the tearful goodbye before the Major and paramedic moved off. The car drove past his position, his smile widening ever so slightly at the thought of the two women left behind, alone.
**********
The Centre – Monitor room
Broots entered the room, checking its occupants before proceeding. His eyes traced across the multitude of screens to the one that displayed Jarod’s cell. Sydney had asked him to make sure that Jarod was there before he went home.
“Oh, no.”
The cell was empty, no occupant noticeable. Walking closer, he noticed one of the techs he knew.
“James, uh, where is the guy who’s supposed to be here.” His finger pointing to the guilty monitor.
“Oh, Mr Lyle has transfer papers for him. He will be back by tomorrow.”
“Um, ok. Thanks.”
Turning, Broots walked out the room, hoping he would be in time to phone Sydney with this new piece of information. Just outside the door, he collided with someone. Not really noticing whom, he tried to step around the person, his thoughts flooded with the implications if Sydney tried a rescue attempt without Jarod present.
It was only when he heard the wheezing that he finally took note of the person he had collided with.
“Going somewhere…Mr Broots?”
“M…Mr Raines, I…I didn’t…I…uh, I mean….yes.” Stammering, he tried to get out from under the scrutiny of the bald man. He tried to scuttle around the other man, without appearing guilty, and not really succeeding when he felt Raines’s clammy hand on his arm. Looking into the watery eyes of the half-dead man, he shivered.
“What were…you…doing…in the ….monitor room?”
“N…nothing, I…just wanted…James…” breathing deep, he started again, his thoughts as jumbled as his words. “I saw a g…glitch in o…one of the search p…patterns Jarod…had me programme, I, uh…wanted to s…see where he….” fading, his words came to a halt. His heart sank when Gar took his arm, pulling him past Raines.
“I…think we …should have…a talk…about your…future, don’t you…Mr Broots?”
Nodding, Broots gave one last look at the hallway, towards where Sydney’s office was one floor up. Allowing Gar to lead him, he followed the squeak of his perceived doom.
**********
Safe house – 21:30
Margaret put the last of the dishes away. She never before had such a positive belief that she could finally see her family get back together again. Soon she would see Jarod again. She knew about J and it angered her to think what the Centre was capable of in its incessant greed for power and money. That they would create another human being for no other reason than to exploit his abilities. She promised herself that J would come to understand a mother’s love, that he would be safe in her arms.
Walking towards one of the backrooms they have decided to set up for J, she joined her daughter.
“Is everything set up, the bandages and medical supplies?”
Her daughter smiled, rolling her eyes before acknowledging a question she must have asked three times already. If not for Emily, they would not have come here. After Emily had met up with her in Washington, they had decided that they needed some rest from the Centre and their search. Her daughter remembered this place and they came here, not expecting to meet her husband. That moment when she saw him still lingered in her mind. He looked so much like the young man she had fallen in love with, the same love-struck look on his face. A small smile played on her face, her eyes twinkling as she remembered the kiss.
A knock on the door ended the thought. No one else was supposed to know about this place. Motioning to her daughter, they dosed the room light, although it was too late. Whoever it was would have seen the light. Silently, they waited. A second knock came, more insistent. All the years of running had honed her instincts and something about this situation did not sit right. Quietly, she grabbed her daughter. They crept to the back window. Drawing the curtains back, an involuntarily scream left her. The white visage of a face looked back at her, grinning. Running, they sped from the room. Looking around her, she tried to think were to go as the tinkle of glass being broken reached her ears. The front door was vibrating as whoever it was, kicked at it. She grabbed the fire stoke, her grip tight around the shaft. She waited as Emily pulled a pan from one of the fasteners in the kitchen. Having made her decision, she pulled the backdoor open, Emily swinging. The gong as the pan connected sounded loud in the silence, vibrating around the clearing in front of the back door. Not stopping, they ran into the woods, the sounds of shouts and pursuit coming behind them.
**********
Safe house – 21:40
For the third time in a couple of days, he lost his temper. The man that was supposed to have guarded the back door was trying to rise to a sitting position. The other two men he had brought with standing next to him. They had lost the women in the initial hunt, a more detailed search needed now. Calmly, he took out his gun. Without any hint, he pointed it at the struggling man and pulled the trigger. He only received slight satisfaction from killing the incompetent man, his eyes searching the surrounding area. With one last look at the body, his eyes travelled to the other two, their eyes cold and portraying no remorse over the death of their teammate.
“Find them.”
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
The nightmare had been so real; she could still smell the gunpowder in the air. The blanket was tangled around her body, increasing her feeling of claustrophobia, her thrashing not helping. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her hands fighting the suffocating hold of the blanket before she became fully aware of her surroundings. Sinking into the softness of the pillow, she wiped at the wetness on her face. She had managed to twist the blanket around and in between her legs and the chain, turning her body so that she faced the cupboard. Memories assaulted her body again, the bullet-ridden body of Tommy smiling at her. Shuddering, she firmly pushed it back. She stubbornly ignored the hole of hell, not wanting any other reminders of her past or possible future. Pulling at the warm cloth, she finally escaped from its embrace. It was only then that she registered that the door was open. She was drawn to the inside, her hands shaking.
Shaking her head in denial, she looked in on darkness. Something chipped away on her defences, gaping holes starting to appear. She couldn’t focus, her hands falling over her ears. Falling on her knees, she curled tight, her forehead touching the ground as if in worship.
Whispers entered her mind, swirling inside. The sound hissed and spat untruths that wanted to be heard. She couldn’t concentrate, could do nothing under the barrage. They came from everywhere, her soul immersed in the vortex. She tried to fight it, to stand firm. Phantoms laughed in her face, taunting her weakness. Ghosts of the past reared up, adding their voices to the clamour. Too late she realised what was happening and why. Tattered, bruised, and mortally wounded, she took her stand and fought for her sanity.
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
He smiled and then laughed. Parker had finally succumbed, although admittedly he had to help her a little by opening the cupboard to force her to look in on her destiny. Turning from the screen, his step was light as he walked from the room and away from the silent, cowering figure.
**********
Safe house – 22:00
The snap of a branch swung her head to the side. Breathing shallow, she waited. The shadows changed, the dark blue morphing to the black moving shape of the stalker. Her hand slipped slightly on the fire stoke. Increasing her grip, she waited. They had no choice. They couldn’t leave the area; she had no way of letting her husband know what happened. They had left everything back at the house.
She eyed the distance, waiting. The step that took the man closer, also brought with it a swinging arm full of determination and a mother’s fight for her family. He never knew what hit him, his body crashing into the undergrowth, deadly still.
‘One down, two to go.’
**********
The Centre – 23:10
Broots had no idea where his luck came from, but he had a fair idea just to thank her for his share. He might have been in a meeting for two hours, but all Mr Raines wanted was to tell him how appreciative the Centre was of his skills and that a raise might be in order. He hurried, nearly running in his haste to get to a secure phone. He needed to speak to Sydney and tell him about Jarod.
**********
Route 425 – 23:30
The surrounding area was sheaved in darkness, the moon not enough to bring light. The two-lane secondary road was quiet, the stillness rudely broken by the twin lights slicing across the road. A bend in the road finally allowed the occupants to see their destination. An old, broken-down church waited in front of them. The roof was gone, one wall broken in half. The windows gaped open over the unkempt grounds, gravestones chipped and long forgotten.
The interior was silent, all of them taking in the surroundings, the headlights creating surreal shadows that crept from the broken crevices in the walls down towards the full grown weeds, discarded equipment and dusty ground. A command from Lyle and the driver cut the lights. Nothing moved, no night sounds from birds to lighten the mood, no wind rustling the leaves in playful banter.
“Lyle, I need my hands.” Holding them for the blond man, Jarod waited for the arguments from Lyle. He was slightly surprised when Lyle took out the key and unlocked the cuffs, but considering Lyle’s earlier threats and the boy waiting back at the Centre he knew there was nowhere for him to run.
Jarod followed Willie as they stepped from the car. The brace helped a lot and he managed to make his way into the churchyard without any help. Turning on the spot, he took a more careful look of the surroundings till he finally found what he was looking for. Just in front of where the main entry used to be, was the sundial. It was set in the centre of the path leading to the arch of the main doors. He approached the edifice reluctantly, aware of Lyle’s eyes on him. A nest of spiders had settled there, the face covered in the silk strands of their web. Peering closely, he could just make out the faded carvings on the blue-grey stone, the middle stand long since broken and discarded. He looked back at the car with Lyle leaning against it. Taking a deep breath, he followed his dream he had the previous day, walking to where the numerical ten pointed.
The old storm shelter was only that in name, the wood rotten and the door hanging on one hinge. Entering the darkness, he stopped when a command from Willie was whispered harshly. The flashlight nearly blinded him, killing his night vision. Grabbing the one the dark man offered, he inspected the stairs in front of him. They were worn down from countless feet that must have traversed them. The church had used this as a storing place for their garden tools at one stage, the remnants of some of the tools still lying around. The room was stifling, the air coming from the broken door mixing with the mustiness of disuse. His flashlight created a pool of light from which things rustled and escaped as he swept it around the room. His sharp gaze finally settled on what he needed. To the back, tucked away in the corner was an old shovel, the handle broken three quarters up. Even in its state, it didn’t seem to fit in with the rest. Stepping closer, he removed the tool, taking note of the wall. The boards were tucked in too tight, too new to be part of the rest of the room. His fingers followed the boards, the roughened wood digging splinters into the tips. The latch was cleverly disguised, made to look like a darker age spot that marred the plank. Pushing, he heard the click, the whole section swinging inward on oiled hinges. Taking one last look around him, they descended into the darkness that had opened before them.
**********
Turn-off just south of the Centre
The lights dimmed, the car crawling to a standstill. The driver door opened, feet crunching on gravel. A loud whisper followed, the person squinting into the darkness. It was answered, the rustle of leaves being parted followed by a pair of feet quietly pressing on gravel before doors silently opened and shut with barely a whisper. Turning, the engine started. The rescue mission was underway.
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
This is a dream. And in this dream, darkness ruled. She called in her broken defences, cradling them close her breast, her heart pumping away her lifeblood. The sky was black; there were no stars to bring light. She was seated against an old, dead, acorn tree. The bark was rough against her tender skin, the stark branches reaching for the sky, empty of any green. The grass cut into her feet, their stalks brown and dead. She could barely see the black shadows of the land around her. A lone tear slipped down her cheek, her only emotion to the death around her. Another excruciating stab of pain from her wound made her gasp, bending her body in half; her hands holding tight to the tendril of life that seemed to be slipping like a golden thread of light from between her fingers. She continued her hold, tightening her fingers even more on the elusive thread.
He followed the slightly slanted shaft, down into the depths of Hades. His feet shuffling, the limp noticeable. Now and again, he looked behind him, where Willie was following to make sure he didn’t disappear. As if he could, seeing that no openings or turnoffs greeted their small circles of light that their flashlights created. It ended abruptly, his light greeted by a closed wall. To the left of him was a ladder, stashed neatly against the wall. Small slivers of light escaped between the square blocks of steel set into floor in front of him. Looking at Willie, he silently asked the dark man to help him. One kick was all it took.
This is a dream. And in dreams, there has to be hope. Fighting, she stubbornly held on, her fingers dripping with blood.
The clatter of the grate sounded loud to Jarod. Pulling at the ladder, he lowered it into the room.
A stairway to heaven opened. The darkness parted before her - a thin sliver of light descending. She almost believed it could be true, the light no more than a pinstripe.
Swinging his body over the gap, he took the steps carefully, descending slowly. He was halfway down when he took a quick look around him. The room wasn’t that big, about the size of his cell back at the Centre. Through the steps of the ladder, his gaze settled on the toilet. Tucked into a corner on the same side was a box full of tins and water bottles. The other side held bedding. A small open cupboard door met his gaze, the angle preventing him from seeing the inside. What made him start down faster was the body that lay close to the bed.
She looked in wonder as an angel appeared, somehow looking familiar. Her wound ached; ignoring it, she continued to follow the angel’s decent.
Jarod wanted to cry. Parker was curled in a protective position; her eyes open but not seeing. From her left ankle snaked a chain, set securely into the wall by the bed. He could see the inflamed skin poking from behind the cold steel. Her hands were bandaged, the reason behind that not something he wanted to speculate on. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he approached her in the same manner you would a frightened deer.
You’re not real. This is my nightmare… You’re not real; you’re only my dream…
Kneeling painfully, he reached for her. Gingerly, his fingers brushed her hair from her face.
This is a dre…
Softly, his voice full of compassion and love, he uttered her name, “Parker.”
The angel’s voice sounded so full of compassion, it relieved the ache in her heart. It hurt less and she wondered if this is what happens when you die…And then she wondered, if this is a dream…can I die?
Carefully he sat down beside her body, aware of the time constraint.
The angel knelt by her side, his closeness bringing comfort. She wanted to let go, a sob escaping before she drew her broken defences close again.
Jarod did the only thing he could. Gently, incredibly soft, he started to sing the nursery rhyme that had always drawn him back from his brink of the precipice of insanity.
His voice sang a song so beautiful she never wanted to forget it. Tilting her head, she closed her eyes to listen. The words started to heal, closing the gaping death wound that had punctured her heart. She wanted to float on their love, but then she remembered, this is only…
She responded, shifting a little closer to his body. Her eyes still staring inward, but there was hope. Aware of Willie waiting above, his hand slowly started a comforting rub on her back, continuing the song.
Somehow, this was different. She tried to ignore the hidden messages; enjoying the touch…she frowned. Is this a dream? Looking around her, the sky was changing; dark, roiling clouds making way for pastel colours of sunrise. The hurricane turning into an invigorating breeze, bringing with it strength. The grass, dead and dying under her feet, sprouting green shoots of life. Her sight returned, and with it, the hope she had been searching for.
“Jarod?”
Looking into the murky eyes, he quietly nodded. Pulling her into his arms, he held her fast, her head over his beating heart. Her arms forming a protective barrier between them before she slowly unfolded them. They encircled his body tentatively, her heartbeat and his beating in unison. Holding her like that for a minute, his throat constricting. He could feel a wetness starting to creep into his shirt, Miss Parker silently crying into his chest. Ignoring the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, he finally allowed the present to bring them back to their danger.
“Parker, I’m sorry, but we have to leave. It’s not safe.”
She didn’t want to let go. He was the thread that stopped her fabric of reality from unravelling completely. Holding tight, she slowed the tears, nodding slightly into his chest. She lessened her hold on him only slightly, aware of every move he made through the thin T-shirt he had on. He stretched past her, pulling her legs closer. She could feel him work on the shackle, the slight scraping from the tool he used sounding harsh in the stillness. The click vibrated around the room, her left leg suddenly free of the heavy constraint it had been stuck with since she had been here. She felt his muscles tense, a gasp escaping his body. She knew that her leg wouldn’t be pretty, she had been aware of the scabbing and inflammation that the friction of the chain had left on her skin. She was suddenly, irrationally afraid that Jarod would be so disgusted that he would leave her here. She increased her grip, her face burrowing into his chest; not wanting to look into his face and see his revulsion. She felt his fingers light on the area, tracing the pain. She heard his murmurs as he apologised for what had been done to her. Again, he gently told her that they had to leave. She really wished for that to be true.
He muscles stretched underneath her hold, and she felt Jarod pull the slippers tenderly onto her feet. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, her legs weak but holding. When he tried to loosen her hands a little, she nearly panicked. He was going to leave her here; maybe this was just part of her continuing nightmare. Shaking her head, she whimpered into his shirt. His tender voice finally registered. Changing her grip so that she tuck underneath his arm, she allowed him to steer her towards the ladder. Her heart clenched in pain, not wanting to loose her one real thread when she had to let go of him in order to climb. He seemed to realise what she wanted for he kept close to her, climbing behind her, touching her occasionally to let her know he was there.
Reaching the darkness, she nearly lost her grip in fright when a hand pulled her through. Squinting, she waited as Jarod was helped through. She tried to think, tried to imagine why Willie was here, but her thoughts scattered again, her only thought again to hold on to Jarod. Grabbing his hand, she followed his directions, happy that she didn’t need to make decisions, not caring why Jarod had a brace around his leg or where he was leading her too.
This might be part of a dream, but in this dream, she was free.
**********
Happy to hear your thoughts, might just lead to an influx of Muse.
