“Lisa?” He gurgled. Stepping forward, Mike attempted to calm Alex.
“I sent Lisa home to get a couple of hours sleep, Alex. Nobody expected you to be awake till morning. They gave you enough sleeping pills to knock out an elephant. That’s some serious constitution you’ve got there, my friend. Don’t worry. Lisa’s going to be back soon. Why don’t you just go back to sleep for now.”
Apparently soothed by Mike’s explanation, Alex shrugged and smiled at Danny. He patted the bed beside him, winked and said,
“S-Sit, B-bro.”
Chuckling, Danny obliged his friend, though he took the seat on the far side of Alex’s bed, rather than sitting on the bed itself.
“You’re going to have to learn to talk quickly, Alex,” Danny said. “It’s not going to be any fun talking about your Mama if it takes you twenty minutes to come back with something!”
Without a word, Alex just looked at Danny and stuck out his tongue.
“No thanks,” Danny said. “I’ve already showered today.”
Alex’s eyes looked so weak to Danny. Laughter was always their bond. Sarcasm had tied them together. But in these fits of frivolity, Danny felt uncomfortable. He felt inexplicably mean, rude, out of place. He couldn’t really describe the feeling. He felt like he was taking advantage of Alex. He felt like he was being disrespectful. He was definitely holding back the news that Alex’s attacker had taken down two armed police officers before having his own neck snapped in an apparent hand-to-hand combat scenario that found neither victim leaving so much as a scratch on the others. Suddenly serious, Danny leaned toward Alex.
Grabbing Alex’s arm, he said, “We got him, Bro.” Alex’s stared confused, perhaps not sure who it was Danny was talking about. “The guy that attacked you. We got him.”
Alex smiled. Within milliseconds though, his smile turned to a scowl. He pounded on the bed beside him, tears welling up in his eyes. He let out a guttural cry that sounded inhuman. It reminded Danny of the sounds Chewbacca made when mourning the loss of Han Solo.
“What’s wrong, Alex?” Mike asked, trying to sooth him.
“Dude, what’s up?” Danny added. “We got him! We got the jack monkey that did this to you.” Danny didn’t have the heart to tell him that the guy had died. Nor did he want to tell Alex that he’d lost the chance to be solely responsible for the bum’s untimely demise.
“Can’t!” Alex said
“Can’t?” Danny asked, “Can’t what?”
“Can’t. Move.”
Danny suddenly realized the source of his frustration. His legs were hindered. Weighed down by what had happened to him. A weight that was not easily removed. Alex was not paralyzed. At least not as far as Danny could tell. But he obviously had a long way to go and, Danny realized, it was getting to him.
For a second, Danny mentally kicked himself for mentioning the bum at all. Yeah it was great news that he was off the streets, but the very mention of the guy had sent Alex into near hysterics. Alex wasn’t ready to face everything yet. The mere mention of the man stood only as a reminder of the damage done to Alex. The fall, all the weeks he’d spent in the hospital. The slow recovery. Danny had touched a soft spot, a very soft spot. He wouldn’t make that same mistake twice. Alex grew angry. His arms flailed, though obviously labored by the effects of sleeping pills, IV tubes and expected fatigue. He sobbed openly. Danny was relieved that Lisa had not been here to witness Alex’s outburst. She was a strong woman, but the more she could be spared the better it was for her and Alex both. Finally, Alex stopped beating the bed. His breathing was labored and heavy. His heart rate had skyrocketed. There was no way to know how long that eruption had been hiding under the surface. Maybe it was just waiting for the right catalyst to set it off. All things considered, however, Danny wasn’t very thrilled at the idea of being that catalyst.
* * *
Christina was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. Lisa was glad of that. They’d both had a trying couple of weeks and Lisa wasn’t the only one who had been missing out on sleep. More than once, Lisa had stood outside of her daughter’s room and been privy to private thoughts no four year old should experience. Horrible thoughts, forcing her to call out for her daddy even while sleeping. Thoughts, Lisa knew, Christina obviously suppressed during the daytime. Though Lisa wasn’t sure if Christina’s dreams stayed lost in the world of slumber, awaiting her next arrival, or if the child was simply not speaking of the horrors she faced, she made no attempt to press Christina. Maybe, at four, she simply lacked the vocabulary. Maybe she lacked the understanding. Maybe, if she was anything like her father, she simply didn’t want to talk about it. No doubt the fiercely independent Christina Mendez had worries about her missing father. Even though she’d been to visit him at the hospital, she had to have questions. Questions that were not answered in the couple visits she’d been afforded.
Now, tonight, finding her mother sprawled out naked in the shower could not have been very comforting either, Lisa thought. The one thing Lisa had dreaded had come to pass. Even blacking out, Lisa’s mind had drifted to Christina and the hope that someone else – anyone else – would find her. How long could she have lain there before being discovered? Hours? Days? Weeks? If she had died, would Christina even remember being taught to dial 911? She obviously didn’t think of it tonight. Or maybe she had, but Lisa hadn’t been out terribly long. Maybe Christina’s efforts to rouse her mother had been enough. While Lisa sat pondering the “what ifs” of her situation, lost in thoughts of the evening’s earlier events, she hardly noticed the small bed gathering a subtle vibration. Still asleep, Christina’s head was turning back and forth violently. She was shaking and her arms were flailing as if fending off some demon only she could see.
Placing her hand gently on Christina’s forehead, Lisa ran her fingers through the child’s hair and stroked her gently, lovingly.
“Shhh—” Lisa whispered, bending down to kiss Christina’s forehead. “Mommy’s here.”
Suddenly, without warning, Christina’s eyes shot open, revealing the most frighteningly luminescent blue spheres Lisa had ever scene. Gone were the child’s beautiful eyes. Gone was the innocence of youth. Her face seemed tortured, aging. Her mouth opened wide, unnaturally wide. The room itself filled with echoes. Voices that seemed to radiate from within Christina filled the room, each calling for help. Help Lisa was not able to give. There were vile screams of pain, accompanied by booming evil laughter. Voices commanded others to their deaths by the sheer power possessed within. Horrified, Lisa grabbed her daughter, shook her violently and shouted for her to wake up. The blue lights, acting as eyes, focused on Lisa. She wasn’t sure if Christina–or whatever this was–was looking at her or looking through her, but she was definitely being regarded, judged. Christina raised her hand and began removing her mother’s fingers one by one. Foregoing any attempt at harm, the thing that was Christina acted as if expressing a simple desire not to be touched. Having removed itself from Lisa’s grasp, the Christina being laid gently back down in bed. As the thing closed its eyelids, Lisa became aware – for the first time – of the fading blue glow, which had filled the entire room. The piercing blue spheres of light possessing Christina’s eye sockets had filled the entire room with its luminescence.
As her eyelids closed, the room blanketed in darkness, fed only by the dim hallway light cutting under the crack in Christina’s door. A faint smile appeared on Christina’s face. A peaceful smile. Content. Lisa found no such contentment. Scared. Frightened. Astonished. Confused. Stroking her daughter’s forehead once more, Lisa felt a small bump. A scratch. Something, she could not describe. Something foreign. In the dimly lit room, Lisa tried to focus her eyes brushing Christina’s hair away from her forehead. The skin was warm to the touch, but lacked the sick, feverish feeling of disease or infirmity. A small orange ember appeared on Christina’s forehead, growing increasingly bright. It looked like a symbol, like she was being burned with a branding iron from within. Lisa’s ins
ides quaked with fear. She reached for her daughter’s hand bumping into an invisible wall that seemed to be surrounding Christina. Lisa pounding on the invisible prison enveloping her daughter, but could not get through. She screamed louder and louder, clawing at the invisible force field with such intensity that blood burst from her fingertips. Helpless, Lisa watched her sleeping daughter. She lay entirely motionless, thankfully unaware of the mysterious symbol being burned into her flesh.
The room again filled with light. This time a white light. A virgin white light, devoid of flaw, unobstructed by the limitations of the world into which it was being born. Christina, still sleeping, reached for Lisa’s hands. Though her fingertips had been cut nearly to the bone, no pain registered when Christina took the wounded appendages in her tiny hands. A small yellowish-white glow surrounded Lisa’s hands. Melodious voices sounds of music emanated from within the light. Something of a chanting sound began to build. Focusing on her daughter’s face, bathed in the warmth of the white light, Lisa realized the chanting was coming from her. Though Christina’s lips were moving and she was speaking the words, the voice radiating from within the small child was hardly that of a four-year-old girl. It seemed to be male, deep, possessing an almost eerie gravel. The chanting continued, growing more rapid with every word. Lisa’s hands suddenly began to burn, like she had shoved them into a lit fireplace. Instinctively, she jerked them to herself, protecting them from whatever harm was to come. Remembering her bleeding fingers, Lisa untucked her hands only to find the skin perfectly intact, unscarred, a healthy shade of pink.
“What is this? Help!” she screamed.
She looked toward the ceiling, half expecting to be able to see through the ceiling into some Other Worldly realm she did not comprehend. To her surprise, she found only ceiling, a well-lit ceiling but ceiling nonetheless. No cracking, no shifting of the foundation. No chaos. The voices grew louder as the room filled with shimmering streams of lavender, green, blue and shades of red too vast to count. Christina’s body once again lay entombed in its invisible coffin. She continued to chant, but whatever force prevented Lisa from touching her now prevented any sound from escaping. The glowing symbol seemed all but gone, fading to an ashy gray.
“Peace.” The voice had spoken the word clearly, though it was surrounded by singing, chanting, screams of horror, weeping, laughter and animalistic growling all at once.
The voice was like thunder in the midst of a storm. Through the rain, lightning, wind and chaos it reigned supreme. “Be at peace,” The voice repeated.
Peace? How in the— Lisa’s thoughts were cut off before they could fully form. Confused, lost, scared, anything but peaceful, Lisa faded into darkness, as if the light itself – noticeably fading – was leading her away from the world she knew so well to the next. Into the very enlightenment she required. Unable to resist, Lisa slept.
Chapter 13 ~
Danny wasn’t tired. He was still lingering in self-loathing, kicking himself for awakening the pain that Alex had experienced. Though Alex appeared almost to feel better after the release, Danny felt small. It was, to him, as if Alex had transferred all the weight under which he had felt buried onto Danny’s already weighted shoulders. As if the weight of his world wasn’t enough, now he had the weight of Alex’s as well. But he could not complain. He brought it on himself. And he would do as he had done a thousand times before. Carry whatever weight was expected him. He decided to drive by to check on Lisa. His night had been weird, and he was still a bit unsettled at that Mike character. Doctor Mike might have been the best physician in the world but it didn’t stop Danny from being inexplicably burdened by something as it related to him. Something Danny could not quite finger just yet. Something that maybe Lisa could help him sort out. She’d spent several weeks at the hospital with Alex. She’d obviously developed some sort of relationship with Doctor Mike, enough that she felt comfortable leaving Alex in his care. Despite all of Danny’s reservations, that spoke volumes in Mike’s favor.
If the lights were off at Lisa’s place, he’d just go on home, assuming she was okay. After all, he told himself, she did not need any more burdens. She did not need any more reasons to worry about Alex. Danny was sure she was already inventing more than enough to go along nicely with the collection of legitimate worries they faced. The Mendez house was beautiful. Danny was almost jealous. Had it been anyone else, he probably would have been. He was happily envious of them, however. Not in the sense of greed or malicious jealousy. More in the sense of seeing all that his two best friends had and wishing, longing, for the day he had something similar. Even for him there was something that tingled inside every time he heard Christina’s little voice call Alex “Daddy.”
Checking the clock radio’s digital readout, Danny was quite surprised to not only see several lights on in Lisa’s house but detectable movement pass the living room windows several times. Not sure if bursting in, guns drawn, would be a welcome intrusion into Lisa’s potential midnight snack relaxation exercise, Danny decided to park across the street and observe for a minute. If, for whatever reason, something should be wrong, cop instinct would tell its tale. It would not fail Danny.
He pulled out a small set of binoculars that he kept in his glove box. They were not night vision equipment, so Danny had to struggle to focus in the shortage of light, but he managed to get a pretty good view of Lisa’s face, which looked quite stressed from what he could tell. She finally sat on the couch, leaned her head back a couple of times only to bounce it back upright wincing and grabbing her neck. Well, he thought, she’s awake. Is she injured? Obviously she’s distraught about Alex. She might be sick or something. He’d never know if he didn’t ask.
“Do your duty, Old Man,” he whispered to himself.
Opening the car door, he triggered the electric locks. All four doors of his Grand Am – his civilian transportation, a silver 2002 model that was finally paid for thanks to bonuses and his cousin’s death last year – locked tightly. With one click flick of his finger, he unlocked the driver’s side and closed the door. Pressing a button on his key chain, Danny set the car alarm, which was confirmed with the head and taillights flashing a single flash followed by the chirpy “bleep beep”. As he trekked up the driveway, approaching the front door, he noticed Lisa staring out of the dining room window. The vertical blinds closed and a few seconds later motion detectors caused the outside lights – one by the door, another over the garage – to announce Danny’s presence. He heard the locks disengage even as he was walking up the small ramp way that had been installed over the two-inch step, which lead from their patio down to the cement walkway. Before he could knock, Lisa opened the door.
“You’re losing your touch, Old Man.” Confused, tired, he didn’t offer more than a silently raised eyebrow. “I saw you when you pulled up. I would’ve thought you were more sneaky than that when you’re spying on somebody.”
“Who’s trying to be sneaky?” Danny asked, a little snappy. Catching himself, he said “Heck if I wanted to spy on you I’d at least wait until you were in the shower. I just wanted to check on you is all.”
“I’m all right,” Lisa said, rubbing the back of her head, less than convincingly. “A little headache but I’m fine.”
Danny chuckled. “You look it,” he offered, sarcastically.
“Speaking of ‘look it’ you look a mess yourself. What happened?”
“Take anything yet?” Danny said, ignoring Lisa’s line of questioning.
“Took a nasty little fall in the shower,” Lisa confirmed, “Which explains the headache. It’s just been a weird night all around. So what happened to you, Sport?” Stepping out of the doorway, Lisa motioned Danny inside.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Danny said, reaching for a gentle hug Obliging him, returning the hug, Lisa stepped backwards, sighed softly.
“Now, don’t dodge my questions, Danny. I’m a better cop than you anyway. So, what in the world happened to your face?”
Danny smirked
at Lisa. “I was born this ugly, Kiddo. I thought you knew that.”
Sighing, perhaps out of real frustration, perhaps playing along with Danny, Lisa almost pouted, “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll find out anyway when it makes the papers.”
“Oh it will,” Danny assured her.
“Then you might as well tell me now before I get some idiot journalist’s spin on it.”
“We’ll trade,” Danny offered. “I’ll show you my night if you’ll show me yours.”
“Deal,” Lisa agreed. “But you might not want to hear about mine when I’m done.”
“Lisa, Dear,” Danny sighed, “I can promise you ain’t gonna want to hear mine.”
* * *
Danny spent nearly two hours poring over the details of the night. About the arrest of Wendel Wallace. His connection to Alex. About being thrown through a metal door. About Steve Christie. About two cops dying without being shot, stabbed or beaten. No visible signs of having struggled with anyone. Just fallen into lifeless lumps.
“We’ve got feds threatening to come in on this one. They’ve already sent in their own medical examiner. Said it could be terrorism. Freaking government. Somebody farts in an elevator and the dang government accuses them of bio-terrorism.”
“You don’t think that Wendel Wallace—”
”What? Killed Steve Christie and Al Stanley? Naw,” Danny paused. “I – God I don’t know.”
“What, Danny? What is it?”
He sat staring at her burgundy leather couch cushion, his fist bouncing nervously off it. His breathing was rapid and shallow. His lips cycled between tension and relaxation. Pursing and stretching. He could not meet Lisa’s eyes. Not out of fear. Simply because his mind was too busy. He was at a loss for words and nothing seemed to alleviate his stress.
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