“They left them there. Just left them.”
Nina said, “So you inherited even more. Wow, that must have been almost impossible.”
“It didn’t feel that way at the time because I didn’t have a chance to think about it. I mean, watching over a bunch of children like that is hard enough when the world is running a-okay. Between juice cups and diapers and making sure they’re not pummeling each other, well, I probably was about the last person to realize the world was falling apart.”
“And when you did realize it?”
“It was difficult to believe the stuff on TV. Then when it was outside the door, man, I mean, your survival instincts really take over. Sometimes those kids, no matter how much you yell, they just can’t be quiet for two seconds. But man, we were all huddled up in the cloakroom with a couple of big things walking around the center with, like, axes or something. We stayed real quiet for almost an hour. Even the really little kids, it’s like they knew their life depended on being quiet.”
He shook his head, sorting through foggy memories.
“At first, we stayed in the center. We had snacks and stuff like that, even some games for the kids. It seemed like every couple of hours we had to hide. The streets in Wilmington got real bad.”
She said, “You stayed there as long as you could, hoping parents would come and get their kids.”
“It seemed the right thing to do. I think I told you already, for a while on that first day we got calls from parents. I mean, frantic calls. One little boy…his call from dad got cut off by…by…his dad being…”
She placed a hand on his shoulder and spared him the details.
“I understand.”
He struggled to hold back tears.
Nina told him, “Jim…let it go. All the years you worked so hard to keep these kids alive. Well guess what? You’ve crossed the finish line.”
“I hope…I hope that-man, I’m sorry,” he put his eyes in his hands.
“There’s still danger around,” she said. “I’m just saying, it isn’t all rosy. But you’ve got help now. We’ve got people who deal with this sort of thing. They’ll be coming here soon to help make arrangements.”
“What?” He pulled his eyes out of his hands. “You mean, for the kids?”
“If that’s what you want, yeah,” she said. “I can imagine the bond you have with them. But we’ve found orphans before and most of them are parts of families now.”
He closed his eyes tight.
“That’s good. That’s real good. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out my own life. That’s been sort of on hold for five years now.”
He let out a long exhale then said, “I have to tell you. I really admire you. I mean, the way you fight and how you’re not afraid. All these years of running and hiding, I’ve been scared shitless. I think of all the kids I lost. I wonder if I had been braver maybe more of them would have made it.”
Nina smiled; almost laughed.
“What?” He asked. “What’d I say?”
She paused, unsure how to say it. “It’s just that every guy I’ve met in the past four years is one of two types.”
“Yeah? What types are those?”
“The first is the guy that’s really gung-ho for the fighting and wants me to know how brave he is. Like he’s going to impress me with how tough he is. Usually they’re the types who go running head on at a Spider-Ant with nothing but a can of Raid and a fly swatter.”
The phrase was an inside-joke with the Dark Wolves but she figured he would understand the idea. He did.
“The second is the guy that puts on the brave front but is damn scared. He’s the one that that tells you he can arm-wrestle a Stick Ogre but then cut and runs at the site of a Chew-Cow.”
“A Chew Cow?”
“Think a big cow. Kind of harmless.”
“Oh. Well..?”
“But you,” she explained. “You just are who you are. That’s kid of refreshing.”
“Actually I’m the third type. I’m the guy that’s damn scared and isn’t afraid to admit it.”
“That’s what I mean. I admire that. It means people can count on you.”
“Huh?”
“It means you do things you have to do, even if it scares you.”
His brow crinkled in an expression of mild confusion as he pointed out, “But that’s what you do, isn’t it?”
“You’re braver than me,” she surprised him
“No chance.”
“Sure you are. Because the truth of the matter is that I don’t get afraid of all this. Not the monsters. Not the aliens. The only thing that sometimes scares me is, well, the fact that none of it scares me. Makes me wonder who I really am, deep down.”
A voice called from the smoky cooking pit over by the empty swimming pool, “Dinner is served!”
A chorus of cheers and claps broke out.
“You are…” he started and tried to find the right words. It took him a moment. “You are a very interesting person, Captain Nina Forest.”
“Not really,” she told him solemnly. “It just seems that way at first.”
Jorge Benjamin Stone rolled, then stirred, then finally woke. Or, at least, opened his eyes; his mind hovered somewhere between dream and reality.
The little boy sat up in his bed. The only light came from the moon hanging high in the heavens and casting a few stray moonbeams through his window.
He rubbed his eyes and vaguely wondered why he no longer slept.
Thump
Yes, that was it. A soft noise called him from slumber.
Thump.
JB swung his legs out of bed. His bare feet touched a cold wood floor. He staggered to stand as his mind tried in vain to convince him to return to the warmth of his blankets. Without thinking-on instinct-he grabbed his plush bunny and held it to his chest.
Like most doors in the mansion, his stood slightly ajar to allow the K9 guards freedom of movement through the home.
He pushed it open fully and stepped out into the dark, empty hallway. Several paces to his left was his father’s second floor office, which led to the master bedroom.
Thump.
Jorgie’s ears woke enough to trace the sound. It came from his right, along the hall toward the rear of the house where the door to a large bathroom stood. A faint glow came from behind that half-open door, a bluish glow from the night light therein.
He stood still, staring in that direction. His mind fought a battle between sleep and awake, before settling on ‘groggy’ but functional.
Thump.
“Ajax?” He whispered for the Doberman Pinscher assigned to guard him.
Jorge walked-more staggered-toward the bathroom. At this point, he needed to relieve himself, anyway.
Thump.
Louder this time. Closer.
JB used two fingers to push the door all the way open. Blue light splashed over his entire face.
Inside the large bathroom was a whirlpool tub, a shower stall, and of course the usual fixtures.
JB took two steps onto tile that felt even colder than the wood. A dark mass lying on the floor against the tub grabbed and held his attention. That mass moved, a little.
Thump.
JB’s eyes adjusted. He saw Ajax on the floor. The sound came from the dog hitting its head against the tub like some kind of machine malfunctioning. A pool of blood dripped from a growing head wound and ran red across the white tile.
“Ajax? Ajax?”
JB stepped forward, still not quite sure if he was stuck in a nightmare.
“Ajax, stop it,” JB cringed.
The dog whined, just a little. Not loud.
Thump.
Jorge saw another mass. This one inside the tub. An Internal Security agent. JB was pretty sure his name had been Carlos. JB played football catch with him in the side yard a few months before. He thought him a nice man.
Carlos’ white shirt was stained red as streams of blood gushed from his slashed throat.
; JB drew breath in preparation for a scream.
A hand clamped over his mouth. Clamped tight.
A large silver blade slid against the little boy’s throat and hovered there.
“Hello, Jorgie,” the shadowy figure said. “I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance.”
JB froze in place. He felt the sharp prick of the knife against the tender skin on his throat and realized that, yes, this was a nightmare but he was very much awake.
“I’m sorry about this, really I am. I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night and it won’t be very pleasant. But your father and I have a lot to talk about. So let’s go get him, shall we?”
18. Illumination
“Father.”
Trevor sat up in bed. His movement stirred Ashley, who groaned and opened her eyes.
The master bedroom connected off Trevor’s office, the room that originally served as the “command center.” Two figures stood in that doorway, their features hidden in the dark.
Trevor instinctively reached for the Beretta M9 under his pillow. He froze when he saw a flash of moonlight flicker off the blade held to his son’s throat.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the shadowy figure teased.
Trevor let the pistol be, and held both hands palms up and open.
Ashley wiped her eyes and realized she did not dream.
“JB? Trevor? Oh my God!”
“Quiet now,” the man raised a finger to his lips. “We’ve got some talking to do. So the two of you need to get out from underneath those nice warm sheets and come on out here. I have better manners than to stand here and watch the misses, but I’m afraid it’d be in all of our best interests for me not to let you out of my sight. You might just do something stupid, isn’t that so?”
Trevor, wearing navy blue sweat pants, cautiously rose from bed, still holding his empty hands aloft. Ashley wore considerably less. She grabbed a robe and tied it on.
The assailant led them to the office where he walked behind the desk, the knife never leaving Jorge’s throat. Trevor and Ashley stood on the opposite side.
“Go ahead, turn on a light. The smaller one,” the man directed.
Trevor switched on the desk lamp. Ashley gasped.
A human man held a knife to JB’s throat, but the scars he wore made him appear more creature than person.
“What’s wrong, honey? I don’t look appetizing to you?” The intruder reacted with sarcasm to Ashley’s shock. “Shoot, this stuff is a couple of years old. You should have seen me when the skin melted. Felt like jelly on my cheekbones for a couple of weeks. Still, I tried to dress myself up for our big get together.” He ran his free hand through his hair-what remained of it-in mock grooming. Flakes from old scabs fell off a cracked scalp.
Trevor saw more than scars. He saw starvation. The dirty coveralls the man wore hung loose on emaciated shoulders. Spindly fingers with chipped nails clutched the knife at Jorge’s neck. The man carried a stink of body odor and rot.
“You should put down that knife,” Trevor said as his eyes searched for openings; searched for counter-moves.
“Oh, I’m thinking no on that one, Dick.”
“You’re not going to get out of here. There are guards all over the place.”
“A few less. The dogs, they aren’t around. I sort of sent them off on a wild goose chase.”
Jorgie said, “Father, he killed the man in the hallway.”
“Carlos,” Trevor spoke the man’s name. He deserved as much.
The intruder said, “You can forget about the guy in the basement watching the cameras. Wilson, I think that is his name. Anyway, he’s got a good bump on the noggin’ and is going to be tied up for a while.”
Trevor’s mouth worked but the scarred man said, “Yeah, yeah, I know. In twenty minutes or so, someone is going to notice Wilson hasn’t checked in and then they’ll send folks this way. I expect to have things settled up by then, so don’t give it another thought.”
The wind rattled against the sliding glass doors that hid behind drawn curtains.
“What is it you want? Let my son go!” Ashley demanded.
“Oh now honey, you know I can’t do that so don’t waste your breath. Besides, you’ve got nothing to fear. I mean, we’re all family here.”
Trevor and Ashley glanced at one another.
“Not yours honey,” the man said. “His.”
He meant, of course, Trevor.
“My name is George. That’s George with a ‘g’. But you could just call me Junior.”
Trevor’s father had been named George.
“George…George junior?” Trevor forced the words.
“That’s right. I’m your brother, Richard. Your older brother.”
“Bull shit!” Trevor spat. “I never had an older brother. I was an only child.”
“I suppose I should add the ‘half’ part. I’m your half-brother, Dick.”
“What?” Ashley exhaled.
“Ole’ papa bear lived a lonely life on the road.”
“No! No! My father loved my mother. He wouldn’t have been screwing around on her. You are full of shit.”
“Easy, easy does it,” George waved the knife. “You need to control those emotions, Rich. You might just spook me into doing a little carving and none of us want that.”
JB scolded, “My father’s name is Trevor.”
George looked down at the boy and said, “Usually I don’t take that kind of lip from a three-year-old kid. Why, if I had had that mouth when I was a boy my mother would have back handed me.”
“Don’t you touch my son,” Ashley spoke through clenched lips.
Trevor saw her shake. Part of that shake came from fear, certainly. Much of it came from anger; the primal rage of a mother protecting her child. Trevor realized that, given the opportunity, Ashley would rip this man to pieces maybe as lethally as could Nina Forest.
Nonetheless, George ignored her and remained focused on JB. “But you, you’re special. You’re special just like Richard is, right? That’s what it’s all about. That’s why I’m special, too.”
“You’re not special,” Ashley growled. “You’re just another monster who looks like a man. No real man would hold a knife to a little boy’s throat.”
“Would you like me to hold a knife to your throat, honey?” The man smiled. “I can think of lots of things I’d do if I had you under my knife. You’d sure as hell find out how much of a real man I can be. Might be a little rough, though.”
Ashley wavered but only slightly. “You’d damn well need the knife.”
“You are not my brother,” Trevor stayed on point.
“Yeah, I knew you’d have problems with that. Don’t worry, Dick, your dad didn’t go messing around on your mother. He met my mom long before he married. I’m a good eight years your senior, little brother.”
“You’re lying,” Trevor said with certainty. “My dad would have told us about you. He wasn’t the type to run away from his responsibilities. I know that.”
“He isn’t going to tell you about something he don’t know about. That’s right; my mother didn’t even know your pop’s last name. They met at a truck stop way back when. It gets lonely on the road, you know. She was a waitress. It was his first time through. Next thing you know he goes driving off into the sunset and nine months later she’s got a nice little surprise. Life can be funny like that.”
Trevor shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Yes you do. You believe me. You went to my place out there in Virginia and saw it yourself. You know I found you because I could see visions of who you are, of how far you’ve climbed in this new world. When you stood in my cave, you felt a connection with everything there. Just like I feel a connection with everything here. Do you want to know why, Dick?”
“My father’s name is-”
“Shut up you brat”
George smacked the boy’s skull off the desktop then immediately placed the knife at his throat again. He moved so fast that Trevor
managed only a half step before he had to abandon any thought of attack.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Ashley roared.
“No more words out of you, boy. No more from your lips. This is time for grown ups to talk. Not freaks like you, hear me?”
Jorgie sniffled and held a hand to his head. He appeared dazed, possibly suffering a concussion.
“You do that to my son again, and I’ll kill you,” Trevor stated a fact.
“Oh Dick, who are you kidding? You decided to kill me long before I woke you and the misses out of bed tonight. The real question here is how bad do you want your son and wife to live? That’s the real question.”
“What do you mean by that?” Ashley’s voice trembled from that combination of fear and anger.
“You see, right now you’re thinking that the big revelation here is that Richie has himself a half-brother. You’re thinking, who really cares if his dad knocked up some minimum-wage waitress a long time ago. I mean, it’s not as if he was cheating on his wife, right? The point isn’t that I’m Richie’s half-brother. Oh no. That’s no big deal. That’s just the way of the world. The point here is what pieces of the puzzle does this put into place for you. The real revelation is right in front of your eyes and you’re not seeing it. Why here I am, only half of what my little brother is and I have it all figured out. Why, I thought me being here would give you all those answers you’ve been wondering about. I mean, you do have questions, don’t you…Trevor?”
George smiled as if he did everyone a favor by calling his half-brother ‘Trevor’ instead of Rich or Dick.
“Yes, I have lots of questions. Like why are you holding a knife to my son’s throat?”
“Oh, c’mon now, I mean the real good questions. Like, why did you get the shit job of running this whole comeback show? Why is it you can order around dogs a lot easier than most folks can order around their kids? Questions about why this little brat of yours is so special.”
“A link…” Trevor spoke soft as he remembered the Old Man’s words. “…a link on a chain…”
“A link on a chain, huh?” George offered a better description. “More like a code for a combination lock, brother.”
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