Gabriel: Only one gets out alive.

Home > Thriller > Gabriel: Only one gets out alive. > Page 3
Gabriel: Only one gets out alive. Page 3

by mike Evans


  Jacob looked up slowly and in a daze. “Huh? What? Oh hey, baby. I was just, um, looking at this report.”

  His girlfriend hugged him tightly. He sat down on the grass and looked around; the world was spinning. “I need to try calling them. Can you call my sister while I try calling my dad? He surely would have his phone on him today. He was going to snap a picture for me as they crossed the finish line. I was trying to check it the entire class period, hoping to see her results but no luck came from it.”

  She picked up her phone, but Jacob already had his ready. They began calling the numbers, to no avail. Eventually, he set the phone down, looked around, and realized he was in central Iowa and had no way of getting the information he needed. He felt like he was a million miles away. He had no one to contact; there were no news sites set up yet, no official numbers to call, and Jacob was on his way to losing his mind. He pushed up, angry and frustrated with his circumstances. He was not sure what he should do or who to be angry with. “I have to go. I can’t just sit here and wait.”

  “Well, let me come with you; you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  “Jenny, if my family didn’t make it, then I am alone. I’m twenty years old, and all the family I have would be gone. I’m getting on a plane and heading out there; I can’t wait.”

  “Planes have been grounded in Chicago. The news said that as soon as the blasts went off, they shut down Chicago. You can’t get in or out. You’d just be on standby at the Des Moines Airport and stuck there, and that isn’t going to do you any good.”

  Jacob dropped back down to his knees. He bent his head down, resting it on the grass and punching at the ground. “I... I don’t know what to do. Fuck it! Tell me what to do and I’ll do it; I just can’t sit here not knowing what is happening there—I’ll lose my god damn mind!”

  Jenny rubbed his back, leaning in, putting her arm around him and kissing the top of his head. “Let’s go back to your place. We can get your phone charged. Eventually, they are going to have the news in order and post the phone numbers that you need to call. They have the numbers of all who are racing, don’t they?”

  Jacob nodded his head. “Yeah, they do all have the numbers, but it’s going to be near impossible for them to sort that out. The report said that they suspect terrorists.”

  “Do you really think that they were terrorists, Jacob?”

  “People that kill others in mass numbers are the pure definition of a terrorist.”

  They walked back through the campus towards his fraternity house. Jenny was trying to console him, but he didn’t want to be touched. The look of worry was turning into an anger that she had never seen before on his face. Jacob stared straight ahead, focused very much on the people in front of him. Every face he saw that was looking more worried than his own was making him furious. Finally, when Jenny could not stand the silence any longer, she gripped his hand tightly until he put some of that focus on her. “What is it, Jenny? I’m sorry but I’m trying to think.”

  “You aren’t thinking. You look like you’re going to rip someone's head off. I don’t understand what you are so mad about, babe. You don’t look worried… you look angry.”

  Jacob stared at her and for the first time realized that he was very much in control of his emotions. These feelings were the ones that he truly wanted to have without question. He said, “Jenny, you are aware that my family's whereabouts are unknown, I’m stuck hundreds of miles away, and I have no realistic hope of getting there. As you’ve already stated, there’s no chance in getting a flight to Chicago … there’s nowhere to go from here.”

  Jacob climbed the steps to his room, opened the door, and let the two of them in. He walked over to the television, flipping it on and turning it immediately to the news channel. He didn't need to, as every one of the channels was already set to the disaster that was quickly becoming Jacob’s entire existence, consuming him more by the second.”

  “Just have faith, Jacob. You still don’t have any idea if they are all right or not. I mean, really, what are you thinking? You act like they’re already dead. You have to have faith.”

  Jacob turned and looked to Jenny. “My only thought is if they are alive—if they are unharmed—why haven’t they called? Can you honestly tell me there would be anything that could keep you from calling me, your dad, your mom, or your brother? Of course there isn’t. Like I said, they must be gone. If they aren’t, I will thank God himself and then kill them all for not calling my ass the very minute they got to safety.”

  The television constantly repeated information about the incident until it went black. A number came across the screen with a website address beneath. The message stated, “For more information, please call the number below or visit the website. You can enter the number of the runner you need to inquire about. We are trying to get as many people in the database as we can.”

  Jacob walked up to the television, raising his foot. Jenny screamed, “Jacob, stop! You need to relax—you need to start thinking. Christ, call the number, please. Let’s find out what’s going on and then we’ll get it figured out. I’m here for you, but you have to want me to be here.”

  Jacob lowered his foot then he pulled up his laptop, unsure if he could handle dealing with any type of call. He focused for a moment, brought the computer to life, and punched at the keys, making sure to type them correctly. He reached the website that had been created that stated “Survivor’s Database” on the main page. Please enter the six-digit number of the runner about whom you are inquiring. He typed in the number for his sister; after the sixth digit, he wavered his finger above the enter key, full of fear and hope at the exact same time.

  He closed his eyes and hit enter. The report came back up, with a picture of her at the time of getting her race number. A simple message came up stating Deceased. August, Jane age 24. Please contact 555-720-4552 to make arrangements. The city of Chicago and its citizens are very sorry for your loss from this tragic event. God bless you, and God bless America.”

  Jacob’s fists were clenched next to the keyboard. He took a long, deep breath, thinking that maybe… just maybe he wasn’t called because his parents were in a hospital emergency room too busy or unable to make the call. He thought maybe they didn’t have identification on them. Every ounce that they were running with was going to feel much heavier by the end of the race, so they never carried unnecessary weight.

  He checked his mom’s number carefully, making sure that he was entering it right. The only hope he had left was that his parents were still alive. He hit enter, realizing that he had no number for his dad because he was a bystander, along with tens of thousands of others. He knew that he would be in the closest stand to the finish line because he had paid good money to ensure that he would have a seat there. He hit enter and was crushed, feeling things he had never before felt in his young life. The screen read Deceased. August, Kristen age 42. Please contact 555-720-4552 to make arrangements. The city of Chicago and its citizens are very sorry for your loss from this tragic event. God bless you, and God bless America.

  Jenny came up, hugging him from behind. “Jacob, I am so, so sorry, baby. I can’t imagine what you are feeling right now. What can I do? We need to figure out what we can do to find out about your dad.”

  Jacob collapsed on the couch. He was having serious issues dealing with what he was seeing. The news report showed direct, new footage of the finish line. He stared intently at the screen, pausing it and focusing on the bleachers. He pointed to his father, dressed in a shirt that had his sister and mother's names written on it. He smiled for a moment, looking at Jenny. “Jenny, there’s Dad! There he is—he’s okay!”

  Jenny stared at the image then hit the pause button to resume the broadcast. The bleachers where Jacob’s dad had been sitting would never look the same again; it was now just a mass of metal. Bodies were strewn across the street in every direction. A black, smoking image in front of them rolled up into the air. The footage showed people running for their
lives, only to have an equally effective second bomb go off.

  Jacob said, “I need to call these numbers. I’m going to have to figure this all out. Jenny you’d better go; I’m not going to be good for much, I don’t think.”

  “You don’t have to be ‘good’ for anything. I just need you, honey. I am here to help; you can’t do this alone. It’s too much for you to handle right now.”

  “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t handle! Don’t try and psychoanalyze me, damn it. Not now!”

  “I’m just saying that...”

  Jacob stood and lifted her, not forcefully, but firmly, off the couch and walked her out of the room. “I just need some time, Jenny. We can meet up in a few days when I get this all figured out. I just have so much to do and I don’t know where to start.”

  “Then why won’t you let me stay? There’s no reason for you to go through this alone.”

  Jacob stared with dark and determined eyes. “I know you’re here for me, Jenny, and I appreciate it. I just can’t put into words what I’m feeling, but I can tell you that I’m feeling anger more than hurt. If I lose it, well, it might be best if you don’t have to be here to witness it.” Jacob pulled her tight, giving her a hug and a long kiss—the last one he would ever give to the woman who was madly in love with him. Jenny let the tears begin to fall.

  “I’ll call you later, Jacob.”

  He nodded and closed the door slowly behind her, watching as she made her way down the hallway. As she passed Jacob’s best friend, Brady, he saw the state that she was in and stepped in front of her. Brady towered over her as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “What happened? Are you all right, Jenny? Is it Jacob?”

  She nodded as the tears grew heavier. He hugged her, and she said, “His family was at the marathon, you know. Well, they were there when... when…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud.

  Brady pushed her back, holding her at arm’s length. “Wait, one of them was a victim? Who was it? His sister… or was it one of his parents?”

  She wiped at her tears, unable to keep up with them. “No... all of them... he lost his entire family in one fucking blast. I don’t know if he can handle this right now. I think he’s losing it; he was scared to have me in the room. There were reports that it was terrorists, but they didn’t have any information yet. They said they were reviewing the video footage.”

  Brady let go of her and leaned hard against the wall. “His entire family. Fuck. I need to go talk to him.”

  “I think he wants to be left alone. I mean, I really think he doesn’t want to be bothered. I have never seen him this… this angry.”

  Brady tried to think of it from his perspective, and how he would feel if the tables were turned and it was his own family. He thought there was a strong chance he’d put a fist through every fucking wall in the house—or until he couldn’t lift his arms any longer to cause more damage. He looked up with a few tears in his own eyes. “Don’t worry about Jacob. I mean, I know you will, but trust me when I say that I will look out for him. I will stop in a little bit and check on him, all right? If he needs a few minutes to cool off, then that might not be a bad idea. I don’t want to get pushy. He has every ability a man would need to be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “Yeah, I play football; Jacob breaks boards and bricks. I think I’ll give him a bit to relax, then I’ll stop in to see him soon, okay? Just go ahead and head home. I’m sure that he will give you a call later. If not, I’ll text you. Just give him some space; he might need it.”

  She thought about Jacob and realized that if he was upset and couldn’t control himself, it might be best for him to be alone. She had seen him compete in many competitions and had seen, firsthand, the pain he could instill in others when need be. “Just make sure that you check on him. You let me know how he’s doing. He really needs someone right now… I just don’t think he knows it yet.”

  Brady nodded. “He’s my boy. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of him. Go on home or back to class, whatever you got going on. We’ll make sure he stays on the right path.”

  She leaned in, gave him a hug, and kissed his cheek. “You’re an angel, Brady. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

  *****

  Brady walked up to the door and knocked. When Jacob opened the door, Brady tried to not look surprised at his appearance. His eyes were bloodshot and he didn’t look like his normal self. Brady couldn’t blame him for it, but at the same time, he was used to seeing him steady as a rock—the kind that never broke. He was the toughest man that Brady knew.

  He gave a half-assed smile and held up a bag. “I got sandwiches for you. I thought you might want some supper. How are you holding up?”

  Jacob said, “I’m not hungry and I’d rather be alone.”

  Brady moved in past him, putting the food and drinks down on the coffee table. “Sorry man, but you don’t know what you need right now. Come eat something. Hey, have you been watching the news this whole time?”

  Jacob nodded. “Yeah, I am having a fucking hell of a time trying to wrap my head around it. The reports said that they have the fuckers who did it pinned down in some apartment. I wish I was there with them right now.”

  “Yeah, it’d be nice to see them being brought to justice once they finally give up.”

  “Fuck bringing them to justice. I don’t want to see them serve a minute of time!”

  “What are you talking about, man? How the hell can you feel that way?”

  “Because I would kill them. I’d slit the throats of every single one of them and let them bleed to death in front of me. Do you know what the wounded count was? There were hundreds of people injured. I mean, really, it’s actually a miracle more people didn’t die. But I don’t think they deserve to live; they hurt so many families and forever altered too many lives.”

  Brady sat down and stared at his friend. He was filled with anger and conviction, and Brady believed every single word that came out of his mouth. Jacob was not talking just to talk; he knew his friend better than that. He was confident that if he got the opportunity, he would take full advantage of it. “Do you actually think you could … you could go through with something like that?”

  Jacob didn’t answer; he just nodded his head ever so slightly, staring coldly at the television, which had the suspects’ pictures on it. Any questions that Brady had about his friend being able to do such a thing had been laid to rest.

  Jacob looked at the food, and when his stomach growled, he decided he should eat. The two sat down and dined on sandwiches. Brady asked, “Hey, have you called Jenny... you know, to let her know that you are doing okay? She was worried sick about you earlier. I think if you just sent her a text letting her know you’re okay, she’d feel much better. It would only take you a second to knock out.”

  Jacob sat back and typed out a quick message, letting her know he was all right, but that he was going to stay in for the night and get a hold of those he needed to, to make arrangements. He would probably be on the phone the rest of the night and not have a chance to call. After arranging for his family to come back to town, he would have to find a funeral home and get in touch with the family lawyer. Jacob’s head was spinning trying to think of everything he had to do. It was on all his shoulders because there was no one else to do it. He thought of all the crying faces on the news and tried to figure out when he would have the time to grieve. How long would it take before he felt normal again?

  Jacob finished his sandwich, slapped Brady on the back, and stood up. He made his way to the door and slid out without saying anything else. As he walked through the university’s courtyard, he saw one of his professors sitting on a bench by himself. He tried not to make eye contact, but the professor had seen him. “Mr. August, do you have a minute that we can speak?”

  Jacob looked up and waved, giving a smile that didn’t hold much conviction. “Hey, uh, Dr. Logan, how goes it?”

  Logan patted the empty wooden
bench next to him, motioning for him to come and take a seat. “Can you join me for a minute, son? I’d like to have a talk with you, please.”

  Jacob shook his head. “Sorry, sir, I don’t think I can talk right now. I’m not in that good of a place.”

  “Sit down, Mr. August. I’ve already spoken with Jenny and she thinks that you need to speak to someone.”

  “Don’t worry, sir, I’ll be all right. I just need to get some stuff off my shoulders.”

  “No… no, you won’t. I don’t know if you ever will. Are you aware that you have a disorder?”

  “Sir, I don’t think I’m in the mood to be able to handle anything that isn’t an absolute necessity right now. I really do appreciate the fact that she contacted you. It was very sweet of her. But you see, I have too much to—”

  Logan cut him off. “Sit down, August, and shut up; we need to talk. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I feel you aren’t going to listen to me any other way. Sit now… please.”

  Jacob sat down, looked closely at the man, and nodded that he was ready to listen. The professor had never been so rash with him before. Logan pulled out a pack of cigarettes, staring into the distance. “Jacob, don’t take this wrong, because what I’m going to tell you is not a bad thing whatsoever. Do you know what I did before I was a teacher Jacob?”

  Jacob felt like his day couldn't get much worse and thought he might as well sit in for the long haul. “I just thought you were probably a psychologist of some type with a private profession. You wrote a book and then you went on to get offered a teaching position, which you were kind enough to humbly accept.”

  Professor Logan smiled. “Well, just about everything after the book is accurate. I think what’s important here is that you know I was not a psychologist in the standard terms… you know, in private practice, helping children with mommy and daddy issues, or a wife that is upset with a cheating husband and trying to deal with it emotionally.”

  “So, what kind of consultations did you do?”

 

‹ Prev