Father of the Deceased

by Egon Grimes

  “Where’d she go?” Lou asked, lamely.

  “Fuck! Fuck! How the hell should I know? This is part of it!”

  Both men stood sporting stupid looks, the lights flickered and then died. The television began a panicky switching through the stations before it stopped on channel zero. A blue light blasted and both men squinted.

  —

  Rhoda walked toward the door. The hot pizza and cold beer sent opposing sensations through her arms. After a quick shift of the load to a single arm, she knocked and the moment she did, a young man’s voice floated into her ears with a strangely trusting affect. “Rhoda, you need to come with us.”

  Rhoda turned and a strange old man stood next to the young speaker, his boney fingers glided gently, taking the pizza and beer, placing them on the doorstep. She allowed the man to guide her. It felt right, natural.

  The three stepped toward the running car, Rhoda got into the driver’s seat, Vadrossa into the back, and Neil stood in wait.

  Rhoda reversed and merged onto Highway-11 northbound.

  49

  After the flash, the television had powered itself down.

  “What just happened?” Lou asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

  Maurice didn’t answer, instead ran to the door, still no sign of Rhoda. The rental car remained parked and he called out with no response returning. The motel was a short rectangle, housing only eleven rooms plus the office. Maurice ran around back, but still found not a sign of his wife.

  “Find her?”

  “Shit, no, dammit!” Maurice clenched and unclenched his fists. Maurice turned and ran outside again. Then he noticed the man standing totem at the center of the lot. “Hey, you!”

  The man didn’t move and Maurice jogged to his side, clamping his hand down hard on the man’s shoulder.

  Looking at the hand and then to the face, Neil acknowledged and then quickly recognized Maurice. A few groans left his mouth, but nothing more. Lou joined the parking lot party.

  “It’s that guy who wanted to know where you were, the man from the crash. How’d you find us, you?” Lou grabbed him.

  Neil’s eyes begged to reply but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Maurice looked closely into his eyes. He saw nothing, nothing unusual. Stiff legged, Maurice pulled Neil along, back into the little room. More and more groans pushed from his lips.

  Maurice sat Neil down and began snapping his fingers. “Hey? Hey?”

  Lou took a different approach and with a firm palm slapped Neil four times in quick succession.

  “He’s helpless, slapping him won’t do any good.”

  Lou shrugged.

  Maurice stood and looked out onto the parking lot. “We need a sign from Rosalind.”

  “Get off it, Moe. She’s dead.”

  Maurice turned back and tossed back the lid of the pizza box. “We have to wait for a sign,” he said, no chance at swaying those words, and then took a bite.

  Lou plopped down and took a slice. Began plucking away pineapples and tossing them into the box. Several minutes passed and the sum of one of the pizzas and Lou said, “What is wrong with him?” when Neil opened his mouth and screamed.

  “Get out to the Jeep, now,” Maurice said grabbing his keys and Neil’s arm.

  Neil had twice the volume of Alice, twice the pounding on any eardrums unfortunate enough to be close to the man, inside a Jeep was too close. Neil howled to the moon that hadn’t yet taken the sky.

  “Fuck is wrong with him?”

  “He’s a beacon or something, that man, or witch or whatever, has him under control and when he is too far away, it hurts him. So if we can get him to stop screaming and keep him quiet then we know we’re on the right track.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Maurice thought a second. “I guess I don’t, but that is what it was like with Alice. Alice became Rosalind and told me to go north.”

  “This is absolutely bonkers, like, full-on insane, nutty, loopy. Do you realize that?”

  An answer was unnecessary, Maurice drove and after twenty minutes, Neil stopped screaming and began talking, rambling. “What happened to me? What’s in me? I can feel it and I don’t like it. You gotta help me, come on, I don’t know, I just…”

  “Calm down,” Lou said.

  “How can I calm down? Some weirdo and your wife got me to get into my car, but your wife went away... until the guy took her just now...I don’t know.” Neil took a deep breath. “Messed up, is this real? I mean, I’m not dreaming, am I? Oh and hey, I wasn’t doing nothin’ but following. I don’t know how your wife knows the guy. You guys don’t have jurisdiction here, right?”

  Lou looked at Maurice, the comment about no jurisdiction made him feel a little naked, given the circumstances, and what might need to happen.

  “You’re not dreaming, something supernatural, something otherworldly, has happened,” Maurice said, eyes on the highway.

  “How did you get here?” Lou asked. “You came up to my car, were you following us, Rhoda and me I mean?”

  “I followed you. I’ve been watching it all go down for days. I’m a reporter with Raw Daily.”

  “Christ. You took those pictures at the grave site?” Lou asked, more or less stating it as fact, but wanting an admission of guilt.

  “Right, yeah, then when I lost Mr. Genner, I followed you and his wife… I can feel him in my head.” Neil began to pant. “This isn’t real, it can’t be. It can’t be real, can it?”

  “I assure you, it is real,” Maurice said, “and now you’re going to help us catch the guy who did this to you.”

  “What’s going to happen to me?” Neil put his hands on the head rests of the front seats. He’d become frantic. “Come on, you gotta tell me. Do you know? Do you know what happens?”

  Maurice turned to look at Neil, the rodent-esque little man that he was, and all of a sudden felt sorry for him. Probably you’re going to die a horrible, messy, painful death.

  “This can’t be happening to me!” Neil put his hands to his temples and squeezed.

  “Why not you?” Lou asked. “Paparazzi snake, you make a living butting in where you don’t belong. So why not you? Great people suffer all the time, so why not let the snakes of the world suffer every now and then?”

  Neil dropped his head and began to cry.

  Lou turned to Maurice. “I realize this is all crazy shit happening, like proper crazy stuff, but it couldn’t hurt to involve the normal course of action, could it?”

  “What do you have in mind?” Maurice asked.

  Turning in his seat Lou poked Neil in the shoulder with two fingers, Neil lifted his wet face. “What?”

  “What kind of car were they in? The car they took was yours right?” Lou asked.

  “What does it matter?” Neil began to sob again.

  “Answer me and stop snivelling like a goddamned baby, what kind of car?”

  “Kia, Sorrento. A black one, I think it’s pretty new, I don’t know if it’s this year’s or last year’s,” Neil said. “It’s like a little sedan.”

  “Good. I’m calling the police.”

  The thought seemed absurd to Maurice, nobody would believe the story, not without living it anyway. “They won’t buy it,” he said.

  “I’m not going to tell them anything beyond a kidnapping. Simple as that, they’ll set up a roadblock and catch him for us.” Lou smiled as he spoke, like he was a genius.

  Maurice smiled back, that just might work partner.

  Nine-one-one, it rang once before an operator picked up.

  50

  Dhaksa watched through Vadrossa’s eyes and swam in his head. The interest Vadrossa showed in Rhoda unnerved him. There was something an imbecile like Vadrossa couldn’t see, a shimmer, a value, a familiarity; that human held power within and she fell right into his hands. This could not be coincidental.

  The La’aklar people would once again rise and in time, take their seat at the head of the Earth.

  Rhoda saw the ha
rd stare from the corner of her eye, while she pushed the Kia up to eighty miles an hour, mentally willing police to pull her over, but nothing happened. They continued to drive. The roadside towns and businesses replaced by trees and rocks. Nothingness all over.

  Dear God, how can it be so?

  —

  As the night fell, so did the sky. Rain pelted. Rhoda continued her speed, unsure of her own being at the moment. She’d lost control, almost as if she wasn’t human anymore, a by standing figure watching a fiction unfold, an unbelievable fiction. The wipers screeched against the window as she and Vadrossa sped through a small northern city.

  Are there no cops in this hole? Her speedometer needle bobbed about thirty-miles over the limit. Why doesn’t someone stop us? Tears flowed down her tired cheeks.

  The city came and went. With the Nippissing lights behind them, Rhoda continued north, Vadrossa gazed at her, his eyes dead and awful. A continual prayer ran on a loop inside, not to any god in particular, just one that would send an officer.

  Please, God, make someone pull us over.

  To Rhoda’s surprise, blue and red light flooded the interior of the car. A great sense of relief washed over her when her foot, out of her control, eased off the gas and gently pressed the brake pedal. She parked and they waited.

  Two young officers, guns drawn walked gingerly toward the car. Rhoda lowered her window.

  She glanced from the corner of her eye, hoping to see Vadrossa in worry, but he stared forward, through the windshield, watching the rain bounce off the glass before the wipers swooshed it away.

  “Show me your hands,” one of the officers demanded of Vadrossa.

  “Both of you,” added the other, he sounded a lot less anxious, as if the kidnapping might be just a mistake.

  Vadrossa lowered his window and both put their arms out The first officer approached Rhoda and the second quickly reached Vadrossa.

  “Ma’am, we have a report that you are in danger,” the first officer said, rain dripped from the plastic cap over his hat.

  Rhoda spoke, but it wasn’t the words she wanted to say, “No officer, I assure you, I am in no trouble.”

  No. No. No!

  “Are you sure miss?” the first officer asked.

  While Rhoda spoke, Vadrossa made a deep and intense eye contact with the second officer. The officer holstered his gun and stepped back to the cruiser.

  “What are you doing, Hinley?” the first officer asked, but the second ignored him and sat in the car, as if too bothered by the weather to do his job.

  “There are bad men out, two, maybe three of them. They’ll be in a silver Jeep Cherokee. They have explosives and have killed. They were in the south, in the city of Chatham, you saw it on the news, I’m sure,” Rhoda said.

  This can’t be. No, it can’t be.

  “Miss, what are you…?” the officer started, his words cut short once Vadrossa’s gaze captured the view.

  Vadrossa reached his boney hand across Rhoda and took the officer’s arm. The officer stood straight, unblinking.

  “Do as the lady said,” Vadrossa said.

  The officer spoke into the com on his shoulder. The officer felt the power rushing inside his head and leaned, clipping his com from his shoulder to hand it in the window. Vadrossa gave out the instructions; roadblocks, stop silver Jeep Cherokee, two, possible three suspects, armed and deadly, shoot to kill.

  A brief pause followed until the voice replied, “Roadblocks, silver Jeep Cherokee, two to three violent suspects, shoot to kill? I’ll have everyone I can round up for this one.”

  With the flick of his wrist, Vadrossa tossed the communication device out the window and Rhoda put the car into gear.

  This can’t happen you can’t do this. The car was already long out of sight of the patrol car and continuing north. Rhoda wanted to scream and cry, but only a few errant tears fell from her sockets and her lips moved but a quiver.

  51

  The new and unwelcome greyness slowed the chase. Lou held his cell phone, hoping that eventually he’d get a call that ensured Rhoda’s safety and the apprehension of the strange man who stole her, but nothing came.

  For more than an hour, the threesome traveled quietly. Neil made remarks about the weather and wishing he’d stuck things out in real news. Neil wondered if he’d ever get another story.

  A dim flicker well up the road. “You see that?” Lou asked.

  “See what?” Neil asked in return.

  “Roadblock. Means they didn’t get them,” Maurice said.

  “You don’t know that, could be they are waiting with them right now. It’s possible that we weren’t that far behind,” Lou said.

  “Possible, but somehow I don’t think so.” Maurice shifted his eyes from the windshield to the backseat. “Feel close?”

  After a pause Neil said, “I feel it, like in my head, but it doesn’t feel different. You don’t think he’s up there?”

  Lou scoffed with a grunt, as if the feeling in Neil’s head was no way to judge the situation.

  “I guess we’ll just have to see,” Maurice said. Something is wrong, very wrong. Letting up on the accelerator, he coasted to the flashing lights. Four cruisers parked across the road, blocking all but the slimmest access. Maurice halted and six officers rushed to the door.

  One of the officers yelled something.

  Maurice lowered his window. “Did you find her yet?”

  “Three of them sarg’, just like they said,” another officer said, his voice high, excited.

  “Yup,” the first officer said, unbuttoned his pistol with his thumb, and began to bring up to chest level.

  I hate this being right, shit, Maurice thought and floored it, snaking between the block. Bumpers scraped both sides of the Jeep.

  “Ho fuck!” Lou’s entire body stiffened and his hands gripped the door and an armrest.

  “Man, it’s that goddamned power!”

  Several loud booms sounded behind them, followed closely by the shattering of glass and a tinny sound.

  “Damn, damn, damn! Heads down!” Maurice punched the steering wheel and pressed the already flattened pedal hard into the floor. Wind swished and whipped in through the broken glass. Errant rain splattered all over Neil and the backs of the front seats. It was dark, and it was wet, and the police wanted them dead, it wasn’t going as they had hoped, not at all, but it was pretty well how Maurice expected. From the onset, he felt against hope, pissing into a hurricane praying to come out dry.

  Two cruisers chased, lights flashing and sirens calling. Lou looked around. “What is wrong with this situation? I mean we’re the good guys. What are they doing?”

  “How should I know?” Maurice keep his mind to the task under foot.

  “Backwards fucking country!” Lou leaned sideways and looked over his right shoulder.

  Maurice leaned his body forward to corral the Jeep as it continued to gain speed. The cruisers on tail, closed ground at an alarming rate, Maurice looked around the foggy night. He had to act. But how? The two-lane road had just split into four lanes, only a grassy ditch separating the northbound and the southbound.

  He swung heavily into the ditch, the rear end skipping as it did. One of the cruisers followed and as Maurice hit the opposite side, the Jeep ramped in the air several feet. Inexperience or just a lack of skill, the officer who followed hit the air, worriedly slammed hard on the brake pedal and upon landing, swerved and skidded enough and then began barrel rolling, water sprinkling through the night air.

  “Whoo shit!” Lou was wide eyed, frantic. “Ho shit!”

  Maurice moved his tongue in his mouth, tasting bits of broken teeth from the jarring impact as he looked in his mirror. Two more cruisers joined the second.

  “Look out!” Lou shouted as two transport trucks with full loads barreled toward the Jeep.

  Maurice turned gently into the ditch, the cruisers eased pace to ensure they remained on the right side of the chase. The mist lightened further and the littl
e shroud of fog lifted. Just ahead, an overhead train bridge cut off access to the ditch and Maurice had to make a choice. He spun his arms around to the right, catching only limited hang-time and landing back on the northbound, his ass end flopping like a fish. He silently thanked the days wasted on Cruis’n USA at Norbert’s Super‘Cade.

  “Get a hold of it!”

  “Do you want to drive?” Maurice shouted.

  “Don’t kill us,” Lou whispered.

  The air in the Jeep thwupt-thwupt-thwupted. An overpass the Jeep narrowly missed gave Maurice an idea, one that didn’t come a moment too soon. He hit the brakes, watching in his mirror as he did, and swung hard to the right, catching the front end of a cruiser. It planted against the cement bridge. It nailed so hard that Maurice hoped he hadn’t killed anyone.

  He gunned it and heard another crack ring out through the air, one of the officers had opened fire from behind. Lou gave a quick glance back, the two remaining cruisers swerved and straightened, just feet away. He watched for only seconds before another crack rang out, a miss. Wincing at the sound Lou centred his gaze onto Neil, quiet, motionless, and slumped.

  “Shit,” Lou said shaking Neil. “You alive?” He shook harder. “Hey, hey!” There was no response and he turned toward Maurice. “Moe, I think the reporter needs a doctor, likely a mortician.”

  If the situation were in any way normal, calling back up would have already happened. For one hundred miles or more, screaming from the scanners would pollute the airwaves, but it wasn’t normal. A strange force wiped away all common sense, these men had an order and they meant to follow it though.

  In all of his power and foresight, Dhaksa, from within Vadrossa, underestimated the ability of man, man willing to do whatever it took to save his family, dead or alive.

  “You need to shoot back,” Maurice said. “Do you think you can take out the wheels?”

  “Maybe, if I hop in the back and take a straight shot, but if they’re still gunning that’s suicide.”