by Willow Rose
And he was right about that. But being on the street at night was also dangerous, and I worried something was going to happen to him. I was especially worried that he might get the virus since his immune system was weak due to cancer.
“You get anything to eat today?” I asked.
He looked up at me. He didn’t have to answer. I could tell by the look in his eyes. Most of the soup kitchens had closed because no volunteers showed up, and the people living on the streets went hungry. When cheap fast food businesses closed, there was nowhere they could go to the bathroom or wash their hands either.
I nodded. “Thought so. Here you go.”
I handed him the brown bag with my lunch that my dad had made for me. Old Man Jones stared up at me.
“I’m not taking no for an answer,” I said. “Take it.”
He grabbed it with both hands. I saw a tear in the corner of his eye but pretended not to. I also handed him a small travel-size bottle of hand sanitizer. He gave me another grateful look.
“I gotta go. My partner is waiting. We have work to do. Stay out of trouble,” I said.
“The world is ending. What kind of trouble could I possibly get myself in that is worse than this?” he yelled after me with another grin.
I rushed back, then got in my car.
“What was that all about?” Propper asked over the radio as we took off. “You do realize you risk getting the virus by talking to that guy, don’t you? And that bottle of hand sanitizer? There’s a lack of that stuff everywhere; these things are impossible to come by and are sold for a hundred bucks on eBay. You just handed him the entire bottle? What if you need it later today? Or tomorrow? You can’t buy them anywhere.”
“God will supply what I need,” I said. “You can’t out-give God.”
Propper scoffed. “So, you’re saying that if I go around giving away stuff, I can just ask God for more, and he’ll give it to me?”
I nodded. “That is exactly how it works, yes.”
Propper laughed into the radio, mocking me. “Gosh, you are naïve. You are a kind man, Hunter, I give you that, but you are also stupid, risking your life like this. A lot of the homeless carry the virus. They’re a disaster waiting to happen. And once they start dying in the streets, not even that God of yours can save them. The way I see it, your faith is a pillow that makes you ignorant of how serious it really is, and that is dangerous. When people start relying on their gods and not science, that’s when we get in real trouble.”
I ignored my partner with a small smile. He was a work in progress; I knew that much. Plus, I was used to my colleagues mocking me for my faith. That didn’t hurt me. I knew my God would provide for me even in these uncertain times. He had moved huge mountains in my life before, and he wasn’t going to stop now.
Chapter 8
We had made it halfway through town when my phone rang. I looked at the display. It said Bryan Harper on the screen, and I sighed, then spoke into the radio.
“It’s him again.”
“You’re the one who gave him your cell number,” Propper laughed. “I keep telling you this, but you’re too kind. I would never give a witness my cell number. This is what you get.”
“What do I tell him?” I asked and pulled my car to the side of the road. “I don’t have anything new.”
Doing detective work wasn’t easy during this time of being on lockdown. Even though the workload was significantly smaller, the few cases we had were hard to investigate, since it involved a lot of talking to people. Instead, we had to interview people over the phone, and it was hard to tell if someone was lying to you when you couldn’t see their face, or even use any of your normal instincts when observing people during interviews.
Bryan Harper claimed he had witnessed a girl being attacked in her apartment in the building across from his. This was a week ago, and we had no idea what had happened to her, or if she was even the victim of a crime. We had gone to the apartment and found it empty, the door unlocked. Nothing inside the apartment indicated she had been hurt in any way, though.
To be honest, I didn’t know what to tell the guy.
“Hi there, Bryan,” I said, finally picking up.
“Detective Hunter? I’m just calling to check if you have any news?”
“I’m afraid not,” I said. “I take it you haven’t heard from her?”
“No,” he said, his voice breaking. It was a strange story since at first, I got the feeling that they were in love until Bryan had told me that they had never met face to face and therefore, he didn’t know any of her relatives. She had a fairly common last name, actually the single-most common name in the state of Florida, Smith, and I hadn’t found any relatives that were a match. I had contacted a few Smiths in the Miami area, but none of them were related to the girl. We had her phone and computer, but none of her passwords and our computer forensics department was running low on people due to the virus, so they’d only take care of it if it were an emergency. Since we didn’t have a body, a crime scene, or even evidence that the girl had been attacked, I could hardly call it that.
“I’m worried. I keep thinking about that guy that came to her door, and how he…he was so violent, pushing the door open and then he…he just dragged her out of there. Have you found the car? Remember, I told you he took her away in his car that was parked on the street?”
“Yes, the black Chevrolet with the letters LH in the license plate. No, we haven’t been able to locate it yet.”
“He kidnapped her. He just burst in there and took her, and I couldn’t do anything,” Bryan said.
I nodded, feeling sorry for the guy. I could tell he was in distress, but it was the same thing every time he called. I had no news, and he’d tell me everything again.
“And you’re absolutely sure she didn’t go with him voluntarily?” I asked. I knew what this guy had told me before; I knew what he saw, but we had debated whether or not he might have just thought he saw something. Propper was certain he had just imagined it or made it all up for attention. Meanwhile, I kept telling him I didn’t believe that. I knew deep in my heart that something was off with this story. I just wished I could be able to sit down face to face with this Bryan person when he told us these things. It was impossible to get a real feel for his state of mind over the phone. But one thing that did speak for his story was the fact that we had found her phone in the apartment. It was left on the kitchen counter. So was her purse, along with her keys and credit cards inside of it. It was odd to leave all your belongings behind like that. Yet, no one seemed to be missing her; no family had reported it. And since there was no evidence of foul play anywhere in the apartment, that meant I was the only one in the entire precinct who took this guy remotely seriously.
“I saw her be attacked,” Bryan said. “She was unconscious when he took her out of there. I’m certain of it. She didn’t move. He carried her out of there, her arm over his shoulder, but he was dragging her. I called the police right after I saw him burst inside the apartment, but by the time they arrived, it was too late. He had left with her in the car. She’s been gone a week now, and I fear something awful happened to her. This morning, as I woke up, I remembered something that I didn’t the last time we spoke.”
“And that is?”
“She had a brother. She mentioned once that she had a brother. Maybe he will know something?”
“Did she give you a name?” I asked.
“His name is Robert or Bobby. Bobby Kay Smith.”
“As in the Bobby Kay?” I asked startled.
“Yes. She never told me his name, but she told me who he was. It’s him.”
Chapter 9
She knew she was blindfolded. She didn’t know much else. She didn’t know where she was or even what time of day it was. Night and day became a blur in her darkness. And worst of all, she didn’t know how long she would have to sit there, arms tied behind her back, legs tied together, unable to move.
Candice had tried to keep track of the days an
d figured she had been living about a week in complete darkness so far, unable to see anything but small rays of light peeking in underneath the cloth wrapped around her eyes, covering her sight. She knew there was a gun; her captor had a gun. She had felt it pressed against her head more than once when he spoke to her and told her to calm down and stop screaming.
“What do you want?” she asked now as her gag was removed. She spat between words to get that awful taste out of her mouth. It was always the first thing she asked him every time he removed her gag to help her drink water or feed her. And, as always, no answer came. She felt something touch her lips, something hard, and she recognized the texture of plastic as an uncapped bottle was pressed against her lips and tilted so she could drink. Candice gulped down the water, lots of it spilling down her chest, soaking her shirt. The water was coming too fast, and she coughed again. The bottle was removed.
“What do you want from me? Why are you keeping me here?” she asked again.
“I need you to shut up,” the voice said.
“Why are you keeping me here?”
Silence.
“Tell me why?”
“You know why,” the voice said after another a long pause, where she, for a minute, wondered if he had left her. It had happened before when she asked him questions. Instead of answering, he’d simply disappear.
Candice felt something else pressed against her lips. It was bread. She bit into it and chewed. She was starving, and this calmed her screaming stomach. While eating, she wondered what time it was and whether it was light or dark outside. She then wondered about Bryan and whether he was okay. Did he miss her like she missed him?
“Please,” Candice tried. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to keep me here like this.”
She hadn’t seen his face when he had taken her. She had looked through the peephole before opening the door, but he had been wearing a baseball cap that was pulled down on his face. She felt certain she knew him, though; what she could see of him seemed familiar, and that was why she took off the chain and opened the door. That proved to be a big mistake. Now she was there, on the cold mattress on the floor, where she had woken up after he had knocked her out inside her apartment and apparently brought her somewhere else. She had thought that with all the screaming she did every time he pulled off the gag, that someone would come to her rescue, but so far, no one had. That told her that she probably wasn’t in some condo in the city; she was somewhere else, somewhere where no one could hear her.
The bread disappeared, and more water was poured into her mouth. Candice drank, feeling like an animal. As the bottle was removed, the gag was pressed between her lips again, and her mouth covered with a cloth while she cried. Then she felt the barrel of the gun as it was placed against her forehead and pressed against her skin to make sure she could feel it.
“Now, you have some time to think about why I’m keeping you here. You need to think about what you have done. You only have yourself to blame for this, Candice. It’s all on you.”
Chapter 10
“You failed the test? How is that even possible, Josie? You’re so good at math?”
I was back at the station when Josie called, completely out of it, because she had gotten a zero on her math test online. Josie was excellent at math, so this was puzzling to me as well.
“I don’t know, Dad. It’s these stupid online tests; they’re so…annoying. I hate this. I hate it. It’s stupid anyway.”
“You still have to do it if you want to pass this grade; you know this. But a zero, Josie? I don’t believe you didn’t even get one question right. What really happened?”
There was a long pause. I felt confused. It was so unlike Josie to fail a test, and not to get any questions right seemed almost impossible.
“Well…maybe I cheated on it, and my teacher found out,” she finally said.
I dropped the pen in my hand. I stared into the almost empty police station. They had moved our desks apart, so we remained six feet from one another, and the few that were actually at work kept at a distance all day.
“You did what? You cheated? Josie!”
“Everyone does it. They have no way of finding out…usually.”
“How did you cheat?”
“I found the answers online and then copied them into my test. It went faster that way. All the kids have been doing it since this online schooling started.”
“And apparently, your teacher isn’t as dumb as you thought she was,” I said. “Well, there isn’t much I can do about it. Hopefully, you have learned your lesson and will do your work yourself from now on.”
“Can you tell Grandpa? Please?” Josie said. “I know he won’t give me Animal Crossing when he finds out. He’ll be all disappointed and all that.”
“And why exactly can’t you tell him yourself? You’re in the house with him?” I asked. I stared at the screen in front of me, where I had searched for Bobby Kay Smith to find information about him. I hadn’t had the time to look through much of it before Josie had called.
“I…well, it’s embarrassing,” she said.
That made me laugh even though this wasn’t funny at all. “That’s good. It will work as an important learning session. Go downstairs and tell him now, you hear me? Now, Josie.”
She grumbled something, and we hung up. I returned to the screen, going through all the articles written about Bobby Kay Smith, or Bobby Kay as he usually went by.
He was a famous activist, known for arranging demonstrations, fighting for a higher level of equality in society. Often, he was known to use the slogan Bobby Kay says it’s not okay. He was also known as sort of a hero around Miami, one that took it up with the big guys and fought for the little ones in society…the poor, the forgotten, the homeless. I had heard about him, but never really had that big an interest in him or his persona. Now, I was staring at his photo on my screen, trying to find out how to get ahold of him when my phone rang again.
It was Josie.
“What?”
Her voice was suddenly high and pitchy.
“It’s Grandpa,” she said. “He’s on the couch downstairs. I think he has a fever. He’s sweaty, and he’s moaning. What do I do?”
My heart dropped as fear rushed through me in a huge wave. “Get away from him, Josie. Now! If he’s sick, then you can’t be near him. What might be like the flu to him could mean death to you. Get upstairs, now, Josie. I’m coming home!”
Chapter 11
The sun baked down on her head as she staggered down the empty streets, leaning on buildings on her way, walking from the taxi that had dropped her off as close to her home as they could get. Reese was sweating heavily but barely noticed. She couldn’t believe what she saw, or rather didn’t see.
Not a single soul was on the streets of Miami. No cars, no buses, no noise. It was so eerily quiet; she couldn’t help feeling like the world had ended while she was out for four weeks. In her hand, she held her phone that she had in her pocket when she was taken to the hospital, according to the nurses. The battery was dead and hadn’t been charged in weeks.
While resting herself against a building, she saw an ambulance parking in front of a condominium, and soon after, they rushed inside, wearing hazmat suits, pulling the stretcher. Reese stayed there for a few minutes, leaning against a wall. She breathed in the moist air and felt panic rise in her chest, fearing she was still sick, that she’d relapsed.
The nurses had told her she was the first to recover from this disease, so they had no idea if she was really over it or if it might come back. What recovery looked like, no one knew. She’d be the first to report on it. And they wanted her to call back in and tell them, so they knew what to tell other patients in the future. It filled Reese with panic that she didn’t even know what her prospects were, what her future held. Would this mark her for the rest of her life? The virus had gotten in her lungs, and they had seen damage on the x-rays, they said, even some scarring, but would she recover from it completel
y, or would the scars remain there? No one knew. She was like a Guinea pig or a lab rat. That’s how this felt.
Reese walked a few steps forward and regained some strength, at least enough to walk down her street, which had been blocked off. An officer in a Kevlar vest and helmet, looking like he might as well be off to war soon, drove up on her side and reached out his hand to stop her.
“Stop, ma’am. You shouldn’t go in.”
“But…I live here,” Reese said. “Right down in that building over there.”
“You live here?” he asked, puzzled.
Instinctively, Reese moved a step closer to better hear what he said since he had told her to stop when she was still like ten feet away from him. As she did this, he raised his weapon and pointed it at her from inside his patrol car.
“Stop right there, ma’am. Don’t come any closer!”
Reese lifted her hands in the air and backed up, startled. She had never had the police point a weapon at her before.
“I’m sorry, sir. I just…I really want to go home.”
She was almost crying now. This was all a bit much to take in for one day.
“The entire neighborhood has been closed off,” he said. “For your own safety. This is where the virus outbreak started, right on this street. Hundreds of people have been hospitalized from this area, ma’am. You don’t want to go in; trust me.”
Reese bit her lip. Hundreds of people? Had she infected all those people?
Tears sprang to her eyes when thinking about this. Was she the reason for this outbreak? For all these people’s deaths or misfortune?
“Ma’am?” the officer asked. “I really don’t think you should go down there. It’s for your own safety. The risk of being infected is very high in this area.”
“But…” Reese said and looked at him sitting in his car, wearing a mask and gloves. She could see the fear painted in his eyes.
