The Vanishing (The End of Time Chronicles Book 1)

by Heath Jannusch

  Lex waited a moment, before folding his newspaper in half and standing up. He followed the man at a distance, so as not to be noticed. The man boarded a train headed south and Lex quickly purchased a ticket and did likewise. Next, he followed the man into a double-decker car and up the winding steps to the second level. The man sat down on the left side of the train in an aisle seat, with his back to Lex.

  The train was equipped with an isle in the center and two rows of plush seats going down either side of the car. The seats in each row were arranged in groups of four, so that two faced backward and two faced forward. Each chair was upholstered with a red, velvet-like material which gave the interior of the train an elegant, antique look.

  Lex wanted to be able to keep an eye on the man with the briefcase, yet he didn’t want to sit too close and alert him to his presence. He quickly selected a window seat on the right side of the train where he could see the man clearly. He opened his newspaper once again and pretended to read.

  A young girl, with blonde hair braided in a pony tail, noticed Lex as he boarded the train. She wore a navy blue school uniform and couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. The girl’s deep blue eyes followed Lex with wide-eyed curiosity, as he searched for a seat.

  She was accustomed to seeing well-dressed men like Lex, reading newspapers or working on laptops, as they headed home from a long day at work. But Lex was the first man that she’d seen who was pretending to read the newspaper while he was really watching the other passengers. He reminded her of a character in a mystery novel that she’d been reading, titled Cloak and Dagger.

  Her imagination quickly began to work overtime, as she envisioned Lex as an undercover agent working for the train company in an effort to protect the passengers from a terrorist attack. He was so gallant and devilishly good looking, that the young girl new she must be correct in her assumption. The only question that remained was who exactly was he watching? Scanning the other passengers onboard, she immediately began to look for the suspect.

  After a moment, Lex noticed the young girl gazing at him from across the train. He smiled at her and cast a wink in her direction. She smiled and turned around in her seat, slinking down into the chair and out of sight. “What a cute kid,” thought Lex, as the train lurched forward, leaving Union Station.

  A few stops later, he watched her gather up her school books and walk timidly toward the exit. As she passed by, she dropped a small folded up piece of paper onto his lap. Just before descending the steps to the double-decker, the girl glanced back at Lex and smiled. He was surprised when he opened the folded note and read it. A two sentence warning that sent shivers down his spine.

  He has a gun. Good Luck!

  Lex read the words several times, as the information slowly sank in. “Who has a gun,” he wondered, “and what did the girl mean when she said good luck?” Lex glanced at the man with the briefcase. “Could she have meant that he had a gun?”

  A flood of questions rushed into his mind, as he pondered the mysterious note. Lex was unarmed and if the man did in fact have a gun, then the smart thing would be to walk away. Yet Lex did not move from his seat. His curiosity was aroused and he was not the type of man to walk away from a mystery. Although Lex rarely told the truth, he was always in search of it.

  The train ride lasted for about an hour and fifteen minutes, when it finally stopped in a small town named Kankakee. At the very last minute the man stood to disembark and picked up the briefcase. Leaving the note crumpled on his seat, Lex quickly followed. He had no idea what he would do, but for some reason he couldn’t let the briefcase out of his sight.

  The man’s demeanor was as cool as ever, as he began walking east, briefcase in hand. Lex followed, again, at a good distance. After what seemed like a quarter of a mile, the man suddenly turned right down a shadowy alley with a warehouse on either side.

  Remembering the girl’s warning, Lex stopped dead in his tracks and considered his options. He could either return home empty handed or follow the man down the dark and gloomy alley. This was not a safe neighborhood, but as usual, Lex’s curiosity got the best of him.

  When Lex reached the corner of the alley, he peered down it but couldn’t see much. It was very dark toward the end of the alley and steam rose from the underground sewage vents, obstructing his view on an especially cold winter’s day. Lex swallowed, his throat felt dry and a chill ran down his spine, the man with the briefcase had vanished. Lex took a deep breath and then slowly turned and headed down the alley, coiled in an attack ready stance, with his fists clenched and his arms protecting his head and face.

  There were brown dumpsters located on either side of the alley, providing perfect hiding places. Lex walked slowly, not wanting to stumble into a trap. When possible, he stepped over the puddles left from a recent rain to avoid making any noise, as he proceeded cautiously down the alley. Lex had almost reached the end of the alley, when he heard the sound of a soft splash from behind; someone had stepped into a puddle.

  Lex froze where he was and slowly turned around. Standing not ten feet away was the very man that Lex had been stalking; the hunter had become the hunted. In his left hand, the man held the briefcase and in his right hand, a gun. Light from above briefly glistened off the barrel and the silencer attached to it.

  “Why hello,” said the man, with an evil grin on his face. “Why have you been following me?”

  “I, I was not following you, I was…” Lex didn’t have a chance to finish his lie when he was interrupted by a flash from the barrel of the gun. The wisp of the bullet soared passed his head and imbedded itself into a nearby dumpster.

  “I’m not a patient man,” said the gunman, as he took several steps toward Lex, “and I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, so I’ll not ask again. I’ll simply put a bullet through your knee caps and every other joint in your body, for each lie that you tell.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Lex, holding his hands up and out in front of him, “don’t shoot. I’ll tell you what ya want to know. I was at Union Station when I saw a man drop off a briefcase in a locker and take another one out. When you came along ten minutes later and removed the first briefcase, I got curious and followed you here. That’s it, that’s the entire truth.”

  “I believe you. Now see? That wasn’t so hard was it?” The man in the trench coat raised the gun and aimed it at Lex’s chest. “Well my friend, you exemplify the meaning to the phrase, curiosity killed the cat.”

  Lex braced himself for the bullet, which he was sure would follow, when a homeless man sleeping behind one of the dumpsters, suddenly stood up, startling both men. In a drunken slur, he asked, “What in the hell is going on here?”

  The man with the briefcase immediately turned his gun on the homeless man and fired twice. Both bullets struck the startled man directly in the chest and he slumped to the ground with a grunt. Lex knew that he had one chance and only a second to react. He didn’t turn and try to flee, but instead charged straight toward the gunman, who was now swinging the gun back to bear on him. With his left hand, Lex slapped the gun down and felt the heat of the barrel, as a bullet discharged into the pavement. He then swung his right fist wide, leaning into the punch with all of his weight.

  Lex’s fist landed square on the gunman’s temple and the man’s knees buckled, as he folded forward, cracking his head on the corner of the dumpster. The gun fell clear from the man’s hand and landed in a puddle of water. Lex immediately bent down and retrieved it. He wiped off some of the water and then pointed the gun at the man, who was now lying motionless, face down on the wet pavement. Lex nudged him a couple of times with his foot, but the man made no movement. A moment passed before Lex noticed a pool of blood forming underneath the man’s head. He stepped around the man and squatted down to check his pulse, he was dead.

  Lex had never killed anyone before, but under the circumstance, he didn’t feel guilty; it was kill or be killed. He quickly checked the vitals of the homeless man, who was also dead, an
d then began to search the gunman’s pockets. He found a wallet full of cash but no identification. He also found some extra magazines for the 9mm Berretta, which he now held in his hand.

  After pocketing the wallet, Lex tucked the gun into his pants and snatched up the black briefcase. He was about to try and pry it open when he heard the sound of sirens in the distance. So instead, he quickly turned and ran back through the alley. Two blocks away Lex found a yellow, Volkswagen Beetle parked on the side of the street. He quickly hotwired the vehicle and then headed west out of the area, just as police cars began to arrive on the scene from all directions.

  As he drove away, Lex wondered how the police had gotten there so fast. The silenced shots from the gun had made only the whisper of a sound and wouldn’t have been audible outside of the alley. Yet the cops had arrived within a couple of minutes, and they arrived in force. Lex wondered what he’d gotten himself into as he sped away, his heart beating more rapidly than ever before.

  The City of Peace

  The Vanishing – Day 1

  Geneva, Switzerland

  The evening of the vanishing found Mason and his partner Cleo in a warehouse in downtown Geneva. Cleo, code named Shasta, had been driving the black sedan the night before and had aided in the escape.

  Mason had recruited Cleo off of her college campus at the University of Sydney over ten years ago and they’d been working together ever since. In all that time, Cleo had never seen nor spoken to their handler, code named Snake Eyes. She’d received all of her orders and training directly from Mason.

  Cleo was born in Sydney, Australia; the daughter of an Englishman and an Aboriginal woman. Her almond shaped eyes had a seductive allure and her creamy brown skin was soft and smooth. She had long dark brown hair that hung well passed her shoulders and smelled of mixed berries. Every time that she tossed her hair over her shoulder, it cast its strong fragrance in Mason’s direction.

  Cleo was bent over a laptop, tapping away on the keys and trying to access the sensitive information that Mason had stolen from the Secretary General’s computer. It was encrypted and so far she’d been unable to retrieve any of it.

  “Any luck yet?” asked Mason, without looking up. He was sitting in a chair next to Cleo, cleaning his gun.

  “Nope,” answered Cleo, once again tossing her thick, wavy hair over her shoulder.

  “Can you not do that?”

  “Do what mate?”

  “Constantly flip your hair around,” answered Mason, in disgust.

  “Why the bloody hell does it bother you so much?” When Cleo didn’t receive an answer, she continued, “Don’t give me your attitude mate just because your wife is giving you a hard time about our working relationship.”

  “That’s just part of the problem,” sighed Mason. “It also has a lot to do with all of the time that I spend away from home on these…” Mason never had a chance to finish his sentence.

  All of a sudden the earth began to shake viciously and all of the windows in the warehouse where simultaneously blown out, sending shards of glass in every direction. Mason and Cleo instinctively ducked to avoid the pieces of flying glass. They remained hunched down on the floor for a moment, staring in disbelief, when a warm, bright light began to shine through the open windows.

  As the entire warehouse became illuminated, both agents were forced to cover their eyes to protect them from the blinding light. Everything around them continued to shake violently, convincing Mason that it must be an earthquake. However, he was not sure about the origin of the intense light.

  Mason was the first to react. He swiftly grabbed the pieces to his gun and reassembled the weapon in just a few seconds. He then headed for the front door with his gun in hand. Cleo followed right behind him; her gun drawn as well. Outside the warehouse, they could hear the sound of multiple car alarms and the screams and cries of hundreds of people. Many were frozen in place, shocked by what they were seeing.

  Mason opened the door slowly with his left hand, while holding the gun, ready to fire in his right. He stepped out into the night, with Cleo at his side. All around, they saw utter devastation and complete chaos. There were abandoned cars everywhere and people were running in all directions, most seemed to be fleeing indoors. Piles of clothes lay here and there on the sidewalk, as well as in some of the abandoned vehicles. Realizing that his gun was not needed, Mason slid it into his shoulder holster and steadied himself, as the earth continued to shake.

  Cleo suddenly grabbed hold of Mason’s arm and tugged on it. Glancing down at her, Mason followed Cleo’s gaze to the sky above. His mouth instantly dropped open when he saw thousands of meteors streaking through the air and raining down all around them. A commercial airline jet was also falling to the earth, spinning out of control. Neither of them could believe what they were seeing.

  “What in the hell?” asked Mason, as Cleo grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him back toward the shaking building. A second later, less than ten feet away, a small ball of fire crashed into a car and burst into flames. The two agents stood with their backs flat against the building, trembling, as the vehicle exploded in a loud blast.

  “We need to get out of here,” shouted Mason, in between the sound of explosions. Cleo nodded and the two of them retreated back into the warehouse. While Mason quickly began to gather up their weapons, which lay scattered on the table, Cleo unplugged the laptop and snatched it up. They then turned in unison and ran for the stairs at the back of the building, which led down to the underground parking garage and the black sedan.

  As they descended the stairs, a meteor crashed into the warehouse above, causing a loud explosion, followed by a huge cloud of dust. Both agents were thrown forward and down the remaining stairs. They scrambled to their feet and ran toward the center of the underground structure.

  Huddled together, next to one of the supporting beams, they waited for the shaking and explosions to end. Dirt and dust continued to shower down from the concrete ceiling, as meteor after meteor crashed into the city above. Neither of them spoke the entire time; they just sat there in silence, not knowing what to think or say.

  Sanctuary

  The Vanishing – Day 1

  Clearview, Nevada

  The drive from the Evan’s ranch into the town of Clearview was forty-five minutes of open road, and would take Shiloh right passed the St. Clair farm. The rugged, natural beauty and fresh smells always made him feel right at home. Shiloh had gone to school with the St. Clair’s only son Ian, and their friendship had remained strong yet turbulent over the years.

  Speeding down the road, Shiloh turned on the radio, but try as he may he couldn’t seem to get any of his normal stations to work. He began to wonder if something was interfering with the signal. After a few minutes of searching, he was finally able to find one station coming through clearly enough to understand. It was a news report on current events happening around the world.

  “Panic and economic unrest have spread around the world as millions of people race to banks in an attempt to withdraw their hard earned savings,” announced the reporter. “World economies’ are in an upheaval and have been for some time. The numerous bailouts of the banks, by the Federal Reserve and various governments, have resulted in the largest and most widespread depression the world has ever seen.

  The world’s financial markets are continuing to plunge at alarming rates. Investors around the globe have begun dumping stocks and bonds and instead are desperately attempting to invest in gold, silver and other secure commodities. Governments around the world are declaring martial law, as riots and protestors continue to fill the streets.

  Greece, Spain and Italy were the first countries to close the doors of their financial institutions, and this trend has spread like wildfire across Europe and is now starting in the United States as we speak. Frantic people have been unable to get their money out before the banks close and they are not happy about it. It appears that only Wall Street insiders got the warning in time. The military has been c
alled in to support the vastly outnumbered police and National Guard, as millions of outraged citizens take to the streets in virtually every city in America.

  Police forces have lost control and have begun beating protestors on the streets, spraying them with mace and shooting tear gas into the civilian crowds. There have already been several casualties caused by frightened police and protestors. We have also learned that FEMA has begun filling some 600 camps, already standing by, with some of the more adamant protestors; in an attempt to stop the violence that’s sweeping across the United States.”

  The station lost its signal for a moment before the reporter’s voice returned. “We now take you live to Israel, where our correspondent Bob Walters is broadcasting live on the impending war in the Middle East. Bob…”

  Shiloh knew that Israel had been fighting to keep its land for years now. Sheila had discussed the matter often. As a Christian it was a very important topic to her.

  Shiloh was aware that the United Nations were trying to force Israel to relinquish half of its territory to Pakistan, including half of Jerusalem. When Israel refused the proposal; troops from Russia, China, Syria, Iran and several other countries’ surrounded the small but determined nation. The Middle East was in a collective uproar at Israel’s refusal to compromise. The United States had recently abandoned its long time support of Israel and was now trying to stay out of the matter.

  “It looks as if Israel will be pillaged by the overwhelming forces that have now completely encircled the small country,” said the journalist. He was describing the scene live from the ground in Jerusalem.

  As Shiloh put mile after mile behind him, he was only half listening to the broadcast. He was thinking of his project and figuring out what supplies he would need to pick up in town. Suddenly Shiloh’s attention returned to the radio.