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Disclaimer: Do any of us really own anything? Can anyone claim to possess the lives of these characters that we hold so dear? You betcha. But it isn’t me. Don’t own them. Just borrowing them. This is just my feeble attempt to keep the Pretender alive and well until we finally get to find him again on DVD release. If anyone tries to sue, I’ll disavow all knowledge.

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The Straight Path Lost Part 3

- By Phenyx

06/12/2004

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Emily sat in the front passenger seat and tried not to bite her fingernails. The window beside her was open so that she could hear her parents as they talked outside. Her father had been fumbling around out there for ages with a jack in his hands. The dark minivan parked on the berm didn’t have a flat, but the Major had worked hard to give the impression that it did.

The vehicle was a remarkably effective cover as the group waited on the dark road. Emily’s mother stood at her husband’s side looking fretful and concerned, without needing to act too much. There were bicycles lashed to the top of the car and a bumper sticker that claimed some child had made the honor roll at a nonexistent public school.

The disguise had worked so well that passing motorists had stopped to offer assistance twice in the last ninety minutes. The Major had thanked them, claiming that he was nearly finished. Emily and the children had waved enthusiastically from the van as the good Samaritans drove away.

Emily turned and glanced at the bench seat behind her. The girl sitting there was doing her best to remain calm, despite the havoc of the last few hours. The slender little brunette was being very brave considering Jarod had literally kidnapped the child as she headed home from school.

There had been no time for explanations or cautious pleasantries earlier that afternoon. Emily had held the sliding door open while Jarod hopped from the van. With a quick glance around, her brother had rushed up to the girl and plucked her from the sidewalk. Jarod’s hand over the girl’s mouth muffled her cries as he dragged her into the car. Within moments, the van was speeding away from the curb. No one had seen the child vanish.

Emily had felt nauseous when she’d seen the fear in the girl’s eyes but Jarod had managed to calm her quickly.

“My name is Jarod,” he had told the child. His voice had been level and soothing, even though his hand still served as a gag. With one knee he had pressed the girl against the seat, restraining her flailing limbs. “Listen to me, Debbie,” he commanded. “I am not going to hurt you. Your dad is in trouble. He sent me to find you.”

This had been enough to ease the girl’s struggles but her wide eyes still looked around fearfully.

“I’m going to let you up now, Debbie,” Jarod had told her. “I want you to buckle your seatbelt and try to stay calm. Can you do that for me?”

The child nodded cautiously.

Jarod had smiled that devastating grin of his. “Good girl,” he said. “We have a lot to do before we meet your dad and Miss Parker.”

That had been the extent of the explanations offered to the little girl. Emily was surprised at how readily Debbie had accepted the abrupt change of events. But then, Jarod had a way of instilling that kind of trust.

Jack had taken the little girl under his wing after that. Even now, he chattered on incessantly while they waited. The teen had found a deck of cards somewhere and the two children had passed the time playing quietly together. Debbie’s wariness had eased somewhat as she taught Jack how to play a new game. If the girl thought it strange that Jack had never heard of ‘go-fish’, she did not mention it.

Emily turned to face the windshield and sighed. She glanced at the reflection of her parents in the side mirror as her fingers began to drum nervously on her thigh. When she realized what she was doing, Emily made a conscious effort to stop her twitching fingers. It had been so eerie the first time she saw her brother making the same agitated tapping that Emily was trying to break the habit.

All her life, Emily had been told about her missing brothers. One a brilliant child who had been stolen for profit, the other a hostage kept to silence grieving parents. Finally meeting Jarod had been like bumping into a legend. Emily had found it hard to believe that the handsome, laughing man had been the child her mother had spoken about so often.

The Major’s head popped through the window abruptly, startling Emily from her thoughts. “Someone is coming,” he said.

Emily glanced in the direction her father indicated and peered into the night. A lean man, bald except for a ring of short hair around his crown, was running toward them. Emily felt herself tense up, ready to defend the children against this stranger if need be.

But Debbie eased her worries as the little girl cried, “Daddy!”

When the child would have dashed from the car, Jack held her back. Emily clambered around and yanked open the sliding door. The Major jumped into the vehicle and made his way to the driver’s seat. As he started the ignition, his wife took the position that Emily had just left.

Emily held the door and gestured to Debbie’s father. The man hesitated only a moment before rushing into the van past Emily. He grabbed his daughter in a warm embrace and held on as though afraid the child would disappear.

“Daddy, Daddy,” the girl whimpered.

The man Jarod had called Broots caressed the back of Debbie’s head, hushing the child in a soothing voice. “Hey kiddo, hush now. It will be alright.”

Emily had only a moment to admire the affection evident between father and child. Still holding the door by the handle, Emily’s attention was drawn to the sound of rapidly running footsteps. She turned to see an older man approaching from the same direction Broots had come.

“Sydney?” Emily asked as she helped the man into the vehicle. He nodded. Jarod had told his family little about the people he’d come to Delaware to help. Emily knew names, knew that these people held a special place in Jarod’s life, but that was all.

Emily leaned forward, searching for her brother. For several long heartbeats there was nothing, she could hear only the far off sound of a dog barking. Emily didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until Jarod burst from the trees and air rushed from Emily’s lungs with relief.

Emily frowned when she saw that her brother was not alone. Over his shoulder he carried a woman, her arms dangling limply across his back. Skidding to a halt at the door, Jarod shooed his sister aside and gently laid the woman on the floor of the van.

“Go!” Jarod demanded. Before the door had completely closed, the vehicle was driving off into the night.

“Miss Parker!” Debbie gasped as she looked down at the unconscious woman.

Jarod reached in his pocket and withdrew a menacing looking switchblade. With a flick of his thumb, the knife opened and he used it to slice away the fabric of the woman’s expensive jacket. Blood stained the front of a fine silk shirt. Turning the woman on her side, Jarod quickly scanned her back but there were no additional stains visible.

“No exit wound,” he mumbled to no one in particular. Placing the woman back down, Jarod tore open her blouse and examined her wound. The round bullet hole was to the right of the woman’s sternum, piercing her breast just above her brassiere. “Smaller caliber, probably a 38,” Jarod said. “There’s not enough blood to indicate damage to the major veins or arteries.”

Jarod grabbed the first-aid kit Emily handed to him, quickly located a gauze pad and held it against the woman’s wound.

“What about Sam?” the older man asked.

Emily caught the minor hesitation in Jarod’s movements. She saw the flash of sadness in his eyes.

“He’s dead,” Jarod said simply.

“Are you sure, Jarod?” Sydney asked.

Jarod nodded as he worked. “He took a shot in the back. High caliber rifle. The bullet made a sizable hole as it left his body through the chest. There was nothing I could do.”

Emily felt ice in her veins at Jarod’s matter-of-fact tone. His voice was emotionless and flat. Craning his neck to see out the front window Jarod seemed to search for some landmark, gathering his bearings.

“She needs medical attention, Dad,” Jarod said. “I know a place.”

Emily glanced at her father who nodded in understanding.

“Tell me,” the Major answered.

For the next several minutes, all was quiet save for Jarod’s steady directions. “There it is,” he said finally. They pulled into the parking lot of a medical facility. It was one of those doctors’ offices that stayed open late, providing care for those who could not wait for a conventional appointment, but were not yet serious enough for the emergency room.

“Cut the lights and pull around back,” Jarod said. At this time of night, the building was dark and the lot empty. “Emily, put your hand here,” Jarod ordered. He grabbed Emily by the wrist and replaced his hand with hers over the bloody bandage. “Keep the pressure firm,” he said. “Don’t be afraid of hurting her.”

Emily nodded uncertainly but did as she was told. As the vehicle stopped, Jarod grabbed up the woman’s discarded jacket and felt around in the pockets. He quickly found what he was looking for, a cylindrical piece of metal about four inches long. Emily’s eyes grew wide as she watched her brother fasten the silencer to the muzzle of a gun.

Jarod eased open the van door and scanned the area. Without pause, he took aim and pulled the trigger. Emily had never heard a silenced pistol before. It sounded like the pop of an air gun. A tinkling of glass followed as one of the nearby streetlamps went out.

In moments, the parking lot was immersed in darkness. Jarod slid the gun into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. It disappeared beneath his leather coat. As he stepped from the van, he retrieved another knife from his pocket. This one was a utility knife, with various foldout attachments.

Emily found herself wondering how heavily armed her brother was right now.

“Wait here,” Jarod commanded.

From her vantage point, Emily could see out the side door of the van. She watched Jarod hurry to the employee entrance and kneel before the electronic security pad located to one side. Emily was astonished at the speed with which her brother disabled the system and picked the lock on the door.

In less than a minute, Jarod was back at the van lifting the woman into his arms. “Jack,” he said. “Hold open the door. Emily, I want you to walk with me. I need you to keep applying pressure while I get her inside.” He continued to bark orders as everyone began to move. “Dad, watch the front. Sydney, you’re with us. If she wakes up, I may need you to help calm her.”

Emily hurried into the building, doing her best to press down on the woman’s chest as she shuffled backwards. Jack rushed ahead, opening doors while the others trailed behind them.

“The last room on the right is equipped for trauma cases,” Jarod told them.

Glancing at her big brother, Emily briefly wondered at where Jarod had gained that piece of information. But there was no time to ask. She doubted he would have told her anyway.

As Jarod eased his burden onto the examination table the woman suddenly gasped, arching her back in pain. She coughed once, pink-tinged spittle settling on her cheek.

Debbie, standing in the doorway with her father, began to cry.

“Get her out of here,” Jarod demanded. “Jack find some antibiotics and an I.V. if you can.” Jarod stepped back for a moment, threw off his jacket and yanked open a nearby drawer, leaving bloody prints on the handle.

The woman beneath Emily’s palm was writhing, her hands clawing at the air. Her breath came in gurgling rasps. The old man tried to soothe the woman’s brow but she seemed not to register his presence.

“Put this on,” Jarod ordered. Emily looked up and saw the surgical mask he was offering her. His face was already covered and in his other hand he held a scalpel.

“You can’t operate,” Emily said in wonder.

“You would prefer to stand here and watch her die?”

Jarod’s eyes glittered coldly. Emily could see the tension in his gaze but his actions were incredibly calm. Although her innards were trembling into mush, it was with relatively steady hands that Emily took the mask and did as she was instructed.

“Jarod...” the injured woman whispered. She clutched at Jarod’s shirt, smearing blood on the plain white cotton. “Please,” she gasped. “Let... me... go.”

Emily flinched. The look of horrified anguish in her brother’s face was enough to cause an ache in Emily’s own breast. She suddenly realized how important this mysterious lady must be to her big brother. His agony seemed to be a tangible thing.

Then the moment was over. A flat, blankness took over Jarod’s features. The tender misery was gone so quickly Emily thought she might have imagined it.

“No,” Jarod hissed in a hard, angry voice. “Why should I do for you, what you would never have done for me?” Jarod eased a syringe into the woman’s arm. Leaning in close he whispered to her as she drifted into unconsciousness. “I will never let you go, Miss Parker.”

Aside from some basic first-aid, Emily had no medical training. She did her best to help her brother as he worked over Miss Parker. But his terse instructions only served to make Emily more nervous.

Jarod performed the surgery as though he had done it a hundred times. He quickly sliced through layers of tissue to locate the slug. He repaired some minor damage to a punctured lung, narrating his actions as he worked. As he closed the wound, Jarod spent extra care in doing so, using many more sutures than were really necessary.

“She’ll kill me if I leave a bad scar,” Jarod explained.

“Will she be okay?” Jack asked as Jarod bandaged the woman.

Emily held her breath expectantly, sighing with relief when Jarod nodded.

“I think so,” he said. “We’ve managed to keep the blood loss to a minimum. I don’t think we’ll need a transfusion, but we’ll take supplies for one just in case. Sydney shares her blood type so that won’t be a problem.”

“Now what?” Emily asked.

“Keep her warm,” Jarod replied brusquely. “Jack, get the others to the van. Then you and I need to wipe the place down. I don’t want to leave any prints.”

Emily helped move the woman into the van. They laid her on one of the bench seats and hung the I.V. from one of the hooks above the door. As Emily tested the sturdiness of the peg, she realized that she would never again be able to hang dry-cleaning from such a hook without remembering its alternate uses.

Jarod remained in the building for a long time. When he and Jack finally exited, Jarod knelt by the door for several long minutes. Anxious to leave, Emily was about to tell her brother to hurry when the purpose of his actions dawned on her. He was fixing the door and the by-passed security.

Emily stared, dumbfounded, as Jarod ran to the van and hopped on board. He tossed a red plastic bag in one corner before slamming the door closed behind him. Emily blinked at the bag, instinctively knowing that it contained every tool, needle or gauze pad they had used during the operation. With a certainty that could not be shaken, Emily understood what her brother had been doing for the last half hour. Aside from the broken streetlights and some missing medical inventory, there would be absolutely no sign whatsoever that anyone had been here tonight.

As the van began to move, Jarod knelt on the floor at Miss Parker’s side. He checked her pulse and caressed her forehead. Then he looked up at Emily and smiled.

Emily wanted to cry. That smile was devastating. It was a bright, open grin that made one think that all was right with the world. Until tonight, Emily had believed in that smile. She had thought her brother was one of the sweetest, most tenderhearted beings to ever walk the earth. For who but angels or saints carried such a look of pure innocence.

But now Emily knew better. That heart-stopping smile hid an entirely different person. This other being, living just under the surface, was cold and calculating. For the first time since she’d met him, Emily was afraid of Jarod. She feared the stranger who now lived with her family.









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