"I'm going for a glass of water. Can I bring you something up?" He asked Solange.
"I'm fine. Are you okay?" Solange asked.
"Yeah. Just a slight headache; that's all." He answered before heading downstairs.
As he poured out the water, he felt like his whole world was turning upside down again—slowly, but surely. With Little Foster exhibiting such strange signs, he knew it was just a matter of time before he no longer would be able to keep up the façade that he lived a normal life like everyone else did.
"Are you okay down there?" Solange was at the top of the stairs, still holding the baby.
Trent peeped out of the kitchen. "I'm fine."
"You're taking something for that headache?"
"Yeah. The aspirin's in the medicine cabinet upstairs. I'll be right up."
Solange walked off.
Trent advanced over to a living room window with both hands shoved inside his pockets. Looking aimlessly ahead, he was sure he saw someone standing in the middle of the driveway. The person was dressed in all-black garb—the roomy gown stopping a few inches from the ground. Trent opened the front door and went outside, but no one was there. Scanning the property, he really wondered if stress had gotten the best of him. Sighing, he turned around and went inside, locking the door behind him.
"Going to take that aspirin now." He told his sister upon entering the bedroom. She was making funny faces at the baby.
Trent slid open the medicine cabinet and retrieved the aspirin. After swallowing two of them, he returned to the bedroom, kicked off his shoes and sat against the headboard.
"You don't look so good," Solange said. "Do you want me to stay for a few hours and tend to the baby while you get some rest?"
"No, that's not necessary. I'll be fine as soon as the pills kick in," Trent replied. "Besides, you had your hands full today at the office. I can't put you through this."
"Put me through what? I'm really not that tired. I'll be happy to watch my nephew."
Trent managed a smile. "Okay."
"You just lie down and get some sleep. He's in good hands."
"I know. Thanks." Trent slid down onto the mattress and got comfortable.
Solange grabbed the baby's milk from the nightstand and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
A few hours later…
Trent suddenly pitched up from his sleep. By then dusk had fallen. Opening his eyes, what immediately came into view were hooded figures standing alongside the walls of the bedroom. Their heads were all lowered as that of the person he had seen on his driveway hours before. He sat up at once, and in the center of the room, Peter appeared with that look again… sad, depressed, lost. He didn't say a word.
"What do you want?" Trent shouted at the unknown intruders. "Get out of here!"
One stepped forward out of the line they had all perfectly formed. He was standing next to Peter. "Surrender the child!" he said with a voice Trent deemed powerful enough to bring the mansion tumbling to its knees.
"You are not getting my son! I will not surrender him!"
In that instant, Trent saw Peter's image slowly alter to that of a standing heap of crawling worms. It stood there next to the hooded figure that had spoken before helplessly crumbling to the floor. Then Taylor - Tina's friend - flashed before Trent's eyes in living color. She was doing her evening run and in a flash, the vision was gone.
"Surrender the child…" went the voice again before they all suddenly disappeared.
Trent got up and dashed out of the room. The house was in complete darkness except for the night-light inside the nursery. He went to the door and looked inside. Overwhelming relief enveloped him when he saw Little Foster asleep in the crib and Solange stretched across the nearby couch also asleep. He slid his fingers through his hair, then Taylor pierced his thoughts. "Why did I see her like that?" He mumbled. He knew it was a bad omen.
He returned to the master bedroom, picked up the cordless phone and dialed Taylor's cell. It went straight to voicemail.
"Taylor, it's Trent. Give me a call as soon as you get this message please."
He hung up and dialed her house. After three rings, someone picked up.
"Hello," a male's voice answered.
"Dan, it's Trent. I'm wondering if Taylor is there."
"Hey, Trent. No, she's not here. She went for a jog a couple of hours ago. I was just heading out to check her route because she's not answering her cell."
"Yeah. I tried that first."
"Maybe the battery died," Dan cleared his throat. "Knowing Taylor, she probably stopped off at a neighbor's house to chat and just got carried away."
Despite his show of optimism, Trent could hear the worry in Dan's voice.
"Okay. Well, could you ask her to call me then?"
"Sure thing."
Trent stood in the room as a slight headache still lingered. He soon realized that very near the spot he was standing was where Peter stood before mutating to a heap of ghastly worms.
"Something's wrong. I just know it!" He started pacing the floor.
Just then, the phone rang.
"They were there. Weren't they?" Deed asked.
Trent sat at the edge of the bed. "Yeah," he answered quietly.
"You've got to be very careful, guy. These people aren't playing any games. Remember what I said. They're going to do whatever it takes to get you to hand over your baby. Whatever it takes!"
"I saw Peter too."
"I know," Deed replied. "He felt powerless against them. Said there was nothing he could do."
Solange appeared in the doorway. She was clearly tired.
"I have to go now," Trent said to Deed.
"All right. Just be careful, buddy."
They hung up.
"I guess we both were exhausted, huh?" Trent was looking at Solange.
"Sometimes you never know until sleep overcomes you." She smiled and sat next to him. "The baby's still asleep. He's really such a sweet child—no trouble at all."
"Yeah."
She glanced at her watch. "Where did the time go? I'd better be on my way."
"How are the renovations coming along?" Trent asked. "It'll be nice when you're finally out of that little apartment."
"They're coming along okay. Since finalizing the sale, the contractor said it should take about three weeks before I can move in. Even so, my apartment works fine. It's just me after all." She stood up. "You don't look so good, Trent. Is there something you want to talk about?"
"I'm just exhausted." He quickly shrugged her off.
"I know with Tina not here with you and the baby, it can't be easy."
"It's not, but Foster and I will be okay. Tina will be home soon." He stood up as well. "Thanks so much for staying a while. I'll walk you out."
4
Tragedy Strikes
He had just returned from a meeting in the conference room when the call came through.
As he sat at his desk listening to what Dan was saying, Trent was convinced that he was in a dream and had not yet woken up.
"What?" Trent asked, his heart about to fall through the floor and his hands struggling to hold the receiver.
Dan was in tears and Trent at a loss for words, other than for "I'm sorry," which he repeatedly said. After putting the phone down, he knew that Taylor flashing before him for a second the night before was no random event. He snatched his coat from the rack and headed out the door.
"Going out?" Solange asked while passing. She was holding a stack of manila files.
"Tina's friend, Taylor, was found dead on the side of the road last night. I just got a call from her husband," Trent replied with a lost look on his face.
Solange's shoulders slumped. "Was she hit by a vehicle?"
They walked toward the elevator together.
"I don't know." He shook his head. "I'll talk to you when I get back."
Solange watched him enter the elevator. She seriously wondered how much more her brother could tak
e.
* * *
Trent pulled up in front of Dan and Taylor's house. There were several cars in the yard.
Dan's sister, Ashley, opened the door for him. The atmosphere that greeted him in the house was naturally dismal. Dan was sitting in the living room with Taylor's mother and cousin, eyes moist with tears and clearly in agony over the loss. Taylor's mother, Leanne, was sobbing and intermittently drying her face with a handkerchief. She was in her late seventies, crippled and plagued with a number of ailments. Her niece, Anna—Taylor's first cousin—had driven her there. She was sitting alone in a corner of the room, evidently deep in thought. Trent went over to Taylor's mother and hugged her. His heart went out to her as Taylor was her only child.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Smith," he said. Leanne squeezed his hand appreciatively. He extended condolences to everyone in the room.
Trent sat opposite Dan. An oval, glass table stood between them. "Tell me what happened," Trent said.
Dan leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes were nearly as pink as the curtains that hung on the living room wall.
"I couldn't call you last night." He broke down. "I was in such a mess."
"I understand," Trent returned sympathetically.
Dan took a little while before he could compose himself enough to explain. "When I went out looking for her, I got as far as the road two blocks from here when I saw the ambulance and police cars… the yellow tape," he stuttered. "She was lying there on the side of the road. The blood…it was…"
Taylor's mother wept loudly.
"Dan, do you mind?" Trent got up, leading the way outside.
"It was no accident, Trent," Dan continued as they walked along the front yard. "At first, one might have thought that she was hit by a passing vehicle that didn't stop, but her wounds…they looked like deep gashes inflicted by an ax or something. They were all over her body. It was such a terrible sight to see my sweet Taylor like that and to think that someone, somewhere could have done that to her." He could hardly restrain his tears. "Taylor didn't have any enemies. People loved her."
Trent put an arm across Dan's shoulders. Everyone knew that he absolutely adored his wife. They had spent ten years together—married for seven of them.
"They're doing an autopsy, as you might imagine," Dan added. "I don't know what I'm gonna do, Trent. I just feel like dying."
Trent was getting choked up. Inside, he knew that the strange, hooded figures were responsible for this undeserved pain. It couldn't be happening all over again— not the murderous rampage like before. No way. Not again.
"Does Tina know?" Dan asked.
"I haven't told her as yet. I came straight here."
"She'll be devastated. They were best friends for so long."
"Yeah. I don't know how I'm going to break the news to her," Trent said. "But don't worry about that. You have enough on your plate to deal with."
Dan crouched down on one knee in the grass. He felt that if he didn't stop right then—at least for a minute—he most likely would have collapsed.
Trent spent an hour with the family that morning before heading over to Deed Grumbley's place. With Taylor now dead, he feared who would be next.
5
Incomprehensible
He didn't wait to be invited inside. Trent barged right through the cottage door as soon as Deed opened it.
"They killed my fiancé's best friend!" He went over to the sitting room. Deed followed.
"I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't bring myself to tell Tina the terrible news while she's still in that place."
"They've already started." Deed sat down as well. "Unfortunately, it was someone close to you guys. That really sucks, but at the same time, I'm not surprised."
"Please tell me what I can do before this nightmare goes on any longer. Please!" Trent's stare was intense. "I'm not giving up my baby to those beasts, so I need another solution."
Deed looked several feet over to his right.
Trent followed his eyes. "You see someone. Don't you?"
Deed nodded. "It's your best bud. He was here when you came the first time too."
Trent didn't see him. "Why can't I see him when he's here? I saw him last night again at my house."
"Maybe because this is my domain. I have no idea why these ghosts operate the way they do, but you can go ahead and speak with him if you want," Deed replied. "He can hear you as clearly as he does me."
Trent leaned forward in his seat. "Peter, please…I need your help. I know my family's in grave danger, but I don't know what to do. You probably know this, but my father came to help me through the last major battle I encountered, but I haven't seen him since. Please, if you can, I need you to tell me what I can do to stop these people, entities, or whatever they are from destroying the lives of innocent people."
The room was silent. Deed was twiddling his thumbs. Trent looked at him. "Is he saying anything?"
"Nope," Deed replied. "Look, you're asking him for an answer he hasn't ever given me. I told you they eventually get out what they wanna say... it just takes time. I personally feel that he would lead you to the answer one way or the other. I don’t know." He arched his eyebrows. "I do know one thing though. This guy—your former best buddy—isn't gonna leave you hanging. He's looking out for you. Have a little confidence in him. I'm not saying that he can prevent what's probably the inevitable, but I'll go out on a limb by saying, I believe he'll darn well try."
Trent slid both hands through his hair. "This is just too much. For real… it's just too much! I gotta go." He stood up.
"Sorry you drove all the way out here…" Deed said, "…but right now, I have nothing to give you that would be of any help."
"I understand."
"But don't hesitate to call me anytime you need me or even barge in here like you did today. All right?"
"Thanks." Trent patted Deed on the shoulder. He thought he had a sick sense of humor in terms of timing, but still was an okay guy.
"If he tells me anything else, I'll be sure to let you know," Deed added.
Trent descended the porch slowly. He couldn't recall feeling more hopeless at any other time than he did at that very moment.
Suddenly, his cell went off. He reached for it before getting into the car.
It was Tina checking on the baby.
"He's fine," Trent said, pulling out of the yard. "Amina took him for a check-up this morning."
"A check-up already?" Tina asked.
"There's nothing to be alarmed about, honey. It's just that… well… he's sitting up already and Amina suggested we take him to the pediatrician. That's all."
Tina was stunned, but she remembered how the child's hair was growing at an unusual rate. "That's really amazing. It'll be interesting to hear what the doctor has to say. In any event, I'll be out of here soon. Palenski said that he's pleased with my progress and that he'll call you later this evening or tomorrow morning. I can't wait to be with our son again."
"We miss you too, honey, and like I said before… I'm sorry. I'll never doubt you again," Trent said.
"For a while, I felt like I was really losing my mind, Trent. Because no one believed me, I eventually started to doubt myself and seriously wonder about my own sanity. I think the medication they've been giving me here really helped although I know I'm not psychotic like they think I am." She was speaking softly. "When you opened up to me lately, I felt my old self coming back. Confirming that what I was seeing and suspecting was real actually saved me, I think."
Trent's heart was full and for so many reasons. He wanted so badly to tell her that Taylor had died and everything about himself that he had kept hidden. Yet, he knew the timing had to be right.
* * *
Mrs. Marovic, you can bring Foster in now." The nurse waited at the door.
Amina picked up the baby carrier and followed the nurse to the back.
They were settled into a small room. The nurse shoved the file into a little slot att
ached to the door and walked out. A minute later, Dr. Jagdesh—a short Guyanese man came in.
"Mrs. Marovic, it's nice to meet you." He shook her hand. "Mister Matheson phoned early this morning to say you'll be bringing in baby Foster today."
"It is a pleasure meeting you as well, Doctor," Amina smiled.
"So what have we here?" The man spoke in his native accent.
"Did Mister Matheson explain to you the reason for our visit?"
"He left that to you, I'm afraid," Jagdesh said.
Amina went on to explain the baby's recent development. With an expression that indicated Jagdesh found her claims rather bizarre, he took the baby and laid him on the padded bed.
During the course of his examination, he managed to make the baby smile a lot. "He can definitely pass for an older child and there's no mistake about it, a little tooth is in there." He pointed.
It was then that Little Foster sat up on his own.
"Well, I'll be damned," Jagdesh was staring. "This must be a miracle. His head and neck shouldn't be this strong yet. There's no way he should be doing this right now," he said to Amina.
"That is exactly what I thought, Doctor."
"I don't want to sound like a nincompoop or anything, but I have no way of explaining this apart from the obvious fact that his frame is stronger than most babies at this early stage of his development. I'm in complete shock right now. Could you stand here with him for a moment please?"
Amina did so and Jagdesh walked over to the door and called his nurse who appeared moments later.
"Look at this." He pointed to Little Foster with his chin.
"What in the world…" was as much as the young lady could bring herself to utter at first. She stood there in awe. "Should he be able to do this already?"
Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series Page 28
