by Jack Dey
Sam had been working furiously and hadn't even had time to look up at the clock until her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since last night. She picked up the phone and ordered a sandwich from the cafeteria downstairs. At this rate, Sam was going to be chained to her desk for the rest of the day and half of the night.
Finally, Samantha pushed out her chair and stood at her desk, mentally drained. Her shoulders were tense and her head ached. She glanced up at the office clock: it was 9 pm. The office was empty and the stalls where people attended to their jobs during the day were dark and quiet. A chill went up and down her back and she shivered. The dark places turned familiar things into unimaginable evil, just by the absence of light.
The light was still on in her boss' office and she could see the outline of his body sitting at his desk, through the opaque window in his door. She felt a certain amount of comfort at the presence of another known human being and was about to knock and announce her departure, but thought better of it. If her boss was still here at this hour, he wouldn't want to be disturbed.
Sam gathered her belongings and picked her way out of the deserted building along the dimly lit corridors and into the underground car park. There were only two cars in the darkened car park. Two small lights mounted on opposite sides of the cavernous parking area threw shadows and accentuated shapes, making Sam breathlessly nervous. Walking up to her car, she dropped her keys on the ground and then chided herself, frustrated by her clumsiness, and then bending down she groped about in the dark until she found them again. Fingering for the lock in the darkness, she frantically slipped the key in, unlocked the door and pulled it open. A welcome burst of light from the vehicle's interior flooded the immediate area.
Sam quickly climbed in and firmly locked the door, while unseen in a darkened corner, a figure pushed himself back against the wall as the interior light exposed his hiding place. From his corner, he watched Sam start the engine and pull on the lights. At the same time he dropped to the ground just below the level of the beam, relieved she hadn't seen him.
Sam Young pulled the vehicle out onto the city street and accelerated towards home, her mind going through her schedule for the following morning and all the things she still had to do. Until these cases were dealt with, she was going to be extremely busy. She turned off the main highway and into a dimly lit side street, pushed the accelerator, waiting for the transmission to kick down into a lower gear and push her along. Instead, the engine gave a cough and stalled. That's when she remembered...
She was out of fuel.
The vehicle came to an abrupt stop in a darkened and deserted part of the street. This was the final straw and the doorway into another nightmare. Angry with frustration, Sam began to cry. She had had a lousy day and now she was still fifteen minutes by car from home–alone in a deserted part of town–without any fuel.
Just then, she glanced into her rear vision mirror. A vehicle had turned down the street and was pulling up behind her, their lights on high beam. Sam swallowed hard, while the fear prickled the hair on her neck, and she wondered how she could defend herself. Finding nothing of significance, she slid down in the seat and waited for the inevitable.
A knock came at the window and she jumped, stifling a scream.
"Samantha, is that you?!"
The welcome sound of her boss' voice penetrated the window. She burst into tears of relief and unlocked the door, blubbering all over him. He’d left the office just after Samantha and had seen her turn off down the side street. He’d watched her car stop and had turned around to see what had happened.
Samantha made it home a few moments later. Driven to the stairway leading to her apartment, her boss watched as she made it safely to her door. She waved a grateful wave as he drove off to his own home. He would pick her up in the morning after contacting the Royal Automobile Club, to recover her car.
Sam’s boss’ black BMW made a perfect u-turn, as only a sports BMW could and caught the lights of another vehicle coming down Sam's street. The sedan slowed to a stop outside the apartment block and switched off its lights. As the black BMW accelerated past the sedan, the boss observed a fleeting image of a man smiling back at him through a closed window.
*~*~*~*
During the twenty minute ride to work the next morning, Sam apologised profusely to her boss until he said, "Sam, I get it! You are one of my best employees and there is a creep hanging around your area. I did what any good boss would do. Just don't put yourself in this position again. If you are working late in future, let someone know when you leave and I will make sure someone escorts you home."
Sam was thankful for this understanding man. He was far busier than she would ever be and yet he had time to invest in her. When she arrived at work, her car was parked in the underground parking area and she glanced across at her boss with a questioning look.
"I had the RAC pick it up and fill the tank, then drop it back here last night," he said matter-of-factly. "I thought you may have been worried about it. People who are worth their salt and look after my business like you do, Sam, I like to reward in any way I can. My way of saying thanks."
Sam had a warm sense of being appreciated and redoubled her efforts to make sure her boss got the best from her. She felt contented and happy in her work, although everyone was crazy busy.
*~*~*~*
Friday afternoon, Samantha had a doctor's appointment to discuss some blood work they had taken from her as part of her yearly physical and then after that, she was going to drive the 100 miles to her sister's farm, out in the country. She was looking forward to spending the weekend with what remained of her family.
Sam packed her car with gifts for her nieces and nephews; her bedding; clothes and some extra food. Her kid sister was doing it tough and the farm was suffering in a drought year. There wasn't enough to feed an extra mouth, even for a couple of days. Her car sat, loaded, in the underground car park at work, sandwiched in between a multitude of other vehicles.
At the end of the day, Sam was running late for her doctor's appointment and hurriedly shut down her work station and headed for the door.
The doctor couldn't see any problem with her blood work. He asked her about her stress levels and after further examination, gave her a clean bill of health.
Now that all the official obligations were out of the way, she could relax and enjoy the two hour drive to her sister's. The sky was darkening as Sam pointed her vehicle for the open road. She pulled on her lights, cranked up the stereo and began to relax.
Just as she turned onto a dark, lonely country road, the car began to shudder, then coughed and stopped.
"Oh great! Now what?!"
She reached into the glove box, removed a small torch, popped the engine hood and tried to look for anything obvious. In the pitch blackness, accentuated by the two headlight beams, she leaned over the engine, still making a tink tink noise as the hot engine began to cool.
Her heart stopped, as she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps crunching on gravel.
"Who's there?!" she panicked.
Just then, a brilliant white light engulfed the car. It was so bright, it made the surrounding area look like day. She heard the sound of running footsteps, as the beam settled over her. The light was so bright, it hurt her eyes and then she felt herself being lifted up into it.
She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 20
The phone rang insistently on Blair's desk while he was in the middle of preparing a report for the big brass, and he didn't want to lose his train of thought.
"Dulcet!"
"Dulcet!"
Where is he?
It stopped ringing. Blair settled back to his report, only to be disturbed a few seconds later by another insistent bout.
"Dulcet!"
"DULCET!"
No answer.
Blair was fired up and was just about to give the intruder on the other end of the phone a piec
e of his mind.
"Blair!" he spat in answer.
"You don't sound happy," the male voice replied.
"Who is this?"
Blair quickly settled down, when the caller identified himself.
"Blair, this is Moose. Is this not a good time?"
"I am supposed to be writing an interim report for the big brass and I am behind," he said, calming down. "What's up?" he asked, thinking he may have uncovered some new information on Brandon.
"Well, we have a strange one that I wouldn't mind you taking a look at for me. It's a crime scene that doesn't make any sense."
"I haven't got time to do your work and mine as well, Moose."
"Come on, Blair. Your combat experience may uncover something my guys have overlooked. You owe me this much. Or do I have to remind you of the favours I have done for you?"
"Okay, okay, Moose. Pick me and Dulcet up from the front gate in twenty minutes, but I need to be back in time to finish my report today."
"You may have to burn the midnight oil, Blair. The crime scene is about two hours away."
"Great! The day just gets better and better. We’ll be waiting."
*~*~*~*
A late modelled Holden pursuit car pulled up at the gate to Swanbourne Barracks. Emblazoned across the door was the West Australian Police logo. The emergency sirens and lights stretched across the sleek roof on a rack and were just itching for action. The whole vehicle gave the impression to onlookers of great importance and power. Many motorists shifted lanes to allow the vehicle past, hoping not to attract attention to some unknown felony they may have inadvertently committed.
Two men in army uniform walked out to the car. A large man, wearing a sandy beret, climbed into the front seat, while the smaller soldier entered the back.
Dulcet listened in astonishment, sitting in the back seat of the police car. The two ranking officers sat in the front, while photographs of the scene were passed over to him. He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his handkerchief and then continued scrutinising the evidence. A picture of a woman, lying face up, in front of a small car. The bonnet was up and the driver and passenger door, directly behind the driver, were both open.
"I don't see what is so important. It looks like a crime scene you might find anywhere," Blair observed, still thinking about his report.
"I think you will have a different opinion when you see it."
"The deceased woman...?"
Moose cut him off. "She survived the attack."
Dulcet drew one of the photographs closer to his eyes, as if trying to make out something.
"You're talking in circles, Moose, and not making much sense. If she survived the attack, why don't you just ask her what happened," Blair retorted despairingly.
"We did. She doesn't remember anything. Only that the engine suddenly shuddered and died and that she was extremely frightened. She can't remember why, though," Moose explained.
Dulcet stared out the window as the pursuit car turned down onto a skinny, dirt road and accelerated quickly, kicking up a solid trail of dust, obscuring the road behind in a choking curtain. The car was not designed to be at its best on a unsealed surface. Every bump and divot was accentuated through the vehicle frame and transferred into the passenger cabin. Dulcet steadied himself with the grab handle above the passenger window, in a futile attempt to minimise the shocks coming through the speeding vehicle.
Moose suddenly lifted his foot from the accelerator and began to brake, as another police car and an unmarked car came into view, parked around a smaller vehicle, sealed off with police crime scene tape. A nearby cow chewed on grass, watching the procession with great interest, bending her neck down to take another bite of tasty green grass, happily swishing her tail in time with her chewing.
Moose greeted his subordinates. "Found anything else?"
"Maybe, Captain. It seems from the footprints, that there were two people in the car. One appears to have been lying under some blankets on the floor, behind the driver. See here… the footprints disappear down the road and they were in a big hurry to leave."
Moose and Blair looked at each other.
"The strange thing is, the big section of a circle burnt into the roof of the car that we told you about."
Blair walked over to the car with Moose and inspected the circular mark in the roof. The circle continued in the grass around the car. Dulcet traced it, pointing with his finger. It was all part of the circumference of the same circle.
"Any ideas, Blair?"
Blair thought carefully before speaking. "I would say that someone has gone to a lot of trouble to make this look like a close encounter."
Moose's eyes were wide. "Aliens?! Come on, Blair."
"No. I said, to make it look like it. I, like you, don't believe in extraterrestrials," Blair corrected. "The person hiding in the back of the car obviously had some kind of nefarious intent and wanted to set up a smoke screen."
"Yeah, but they took off like a frightened jack rabbit," Moose contended.
"You said she lives in the area where that maniac who preys on women has been at work?" Blair asked.
"The Magician. Yeah, that's right," Moose conceded. "You think these footprints belong to him?"
"I think I would be carefully checking out the leads on this guy first, before running around yelling, ‘Aliens!’" Blair warned. "I'd be asking questions of the so-called victim, too. If this is the work of the Magician, I think he is trying to change his profile and give you guys a different game to play," Blair retorted. "Now, if you don't mind, I think you have a lot of work to do on an elaborate hoax, and I have an important report to write."
Dulcet was busy examining the car's interior, when Blair bellowed at him to get back in the police car. The police car turned around on the gravel road, spinning the wheels madly and fishtailing, spraying the parked cars with stones and dust.
"What's the latest on Brandon, Moose?" Blair enquired.
"The kook on top of the Citibank building?"
"Yeah, that's him," Blair answered.
"Dead ends everywhere. We can't even establish his identity," Moose confessed.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 21
A shadowy face, downcast and burdened, pushed his paddle deep, pulling hard, straining his muscled frame and driving his small canoe-like boat across the open expanse of muddy water. The moonlight lit his way, but also made him easy to detect. This was a risky mission, but it had to be done.
There was a lot at stake.
A hot, gentle breeze tantalised his sweating body, giving some relief to the oppressive humidity. He reached over the side of the small boat, took a scoop of water with his hand and splashed it into his face, trying to clear his mind. He rubbed the muscles of his stomach, momentarily bending double where he sat, as a cramp tore through his abdomen and left him leaning over the side of the small craft in intense agony. As the pain diminished, he wilfully dug the paddle into the current again and aimed the sampan for the familiar hut on the far side of the Mekong River.
It was a ridiculous situation to be in, the past colliding with the future. He found himself at war with the very people who, years ago, had saved his young life and in return, he tried to use his position to annexe their safety. But now, his hand had been forced into a compromise and he could no longer use his power to guarantee their wellbeing. The guard was demanding retribution for the heavy losses they had sustained and at Cong’s instigation, the fallout was threatening his leadership. The tension in his stomach began to subside as the familiar old hut came into view, instantly transforming him back to his childhood.
He hadn’t seen the well-known landing, where he used to play with his kid sister under the watchful eye of his grandma, for nearly ten years. In a moment of nostalgia, he imagined Grandma’s beaming face and how she used to welcome him with loving arms and a tender hug. The sudden, happy thoughts drove him on, manipulating the paddle over the sides of the boat, steering straight for Grandma’s old
home and towards his past. As he pushed the paddle deeper, the boat gained speed and a chilling thought arrested his mind.
Tenderness was no longer a part of his life.
The last ten years had been a struggle. He had committed acts he thought he was incapable of, in attempt to throw off the stranglehold that poverty had over his life. As far as criminals go, he hadn’t considered himself in that light, however, now he was not only a criminal, but a wanted criminal leader. The depth of his treachery was evident in his clandestine midnight visit to his family, stealing around under cover of darkness to avoid being recognised. All around, people were in bed, their huts dark against the motley landscape. If he was discovered, any one of the people living here could identify him, sending him to a life of hard labour in one of Vietnam's many tough prison camps. Although this was his childhood neighbourhood, the path he had chosen as an adult had made him an outcast among what remained of his family and neighbours.
“Success has a price; but so does poverty,” he angrily whispered to himself.
He misjudged his speed as he cut across the river to the landing. The current flowing down the Mekong pushed the rear of his boat around, making a hollow clunk noise against one of the stilts supporting the hut. He grabbed the closest stilt with a lunge of his hand and waited, holding his breath, listening for any signs of movement, while his paddle was at the ready, preparing to thrust it into the water and make his escape. After many moments of listening and waiting in the dark, he felt assured he had not been detected and all was quiet. He tethered his small craft against the landing ladder and lunged for the wooden platform, then took a moment to steady himself once he was upon dry ground. He reached behind himself and dragged a small bag from the boat: a gift, but he didn't think it would be welcome.
The familiar steps, which led into the hut, hadn't changed since he was last here nearly ten years ago. Memories of his parents came flooding back and he pictured their wonderful faces in his mind, but abruptly, the years of pain and suffering that followed, forced the images away. He could still remember, as if it was yesterday, the awful chain of events that had taken his parents and changed his and his sister's life, forever. He paused for a moment, trying to shake the strong emotions nagging at him and gather his wits before attempting the next task.
