Turning Point
The Good Samaritan
Amir Shehata
Copyright © year 2017 Amir Shehata
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13:
To Alfons Shehata, my father.
1942 - 2016
He desired a better country, that is, a heavenly country
CHAPTER ONE
A swirl of colors flashes in the depth of darkness. It's her synapses firing. Her brain's electrical impulses grow in strength and in a matter of microseconds the electrical signals reach her heart. It starts pumping, sending the blood circulating once more through her veins. A twitch of the hand. A flutter of the eyes. A deep breath. Her whole body tingles as it slowly regains sensation. The light of thought replaces the blackness of death. Memories form in her mind and one takes the pre-eminence. It's of a man in his mid forties. His hard facial features reflect a man who has withstood the tide of time and all the difficulties it has thrown his way. She sees herself as a young child running right into his arms. He lifts her up in the air, spinning her then mounts her on his shoulders. A feeling of safety and security settles on her. It takes a moment for names and faces to connect. John. Her father.
The memories dissipate as extreme heat threatens to burn her alive.
Samantha Stone opens her eyes, but the images are out of focus and red flickering light overwhelms her sight. Then it's the noise. Machines. Large Machines.
Rough vibrations rattle her body as she is driven forward at a steady pace.
Where am I? Sam panics. She tries to move, but her body doesn't respond. What's happening to me? O God, please.
She breathes short, rapid breaths but smoke burns her lungs causing her to cough. Something bursts into flames a few feet away from her. Sparks fly and land on her hand and face, burning them. The sudden pain forces her to jerk her head in an attempt to avoid the sparks. Her neck muscles are finally under her control.
She looks around and realizes that she's in the midst of a pile of trash on some sort of a conveyor belt. Temperatures have reached critical levels. Items just a few feet ahead of her are bursting into flames.
O God, I don't want to be burnt alive. Sam thinks. I have to get out of here.
A short moment later it becomes clear to Sam where exactly she is. A few garbage bags drop into the furnace up ahead. Sam judges she has at most twenty seconds before she's incinerated.
I'm not going to go like this, Sam diverts all her energy and focus into regaining control over her body. The conveyor belt is about six feet wide. All she has to do is roll a few feet to her left and she'll be off the conveyor belt. A battle rages. Mind versus body.
Ten seconds.
She is finally able to roll off the track and fall a meter or so to the ground. The place reeks with the odor of burnt flesh. A quick inspection reveals no significant harm to herself. But where's that odor coming from?
On the track Sam sees bodies; dozens of bodies falling into the fire; men and women of all ages. The sight of all these people falling into the fire enrages her. Why would anyone do this? They are human beings. This is an atrocity that must be stopped.
Sam attempts to get up on her feet, but stumbles and falls back on all fours. Her determination to rescue even one person forces her to try again. Her mind screams at her to move. This translates into a guttural battle cry that is all but drowned by the loud noise of the machinery.
She is on her feet and walking, but it's as if she's dragging led in her boots. Pain shoots up through her legs and travels up her spine causing her to stumble again and again.
The pain is then replaced by another strange sensation, like jolts of electricity shocking every single cell in her body. It's like nothing she's ever felt before. With every shock her strength increases. Soon full strength returns to her legs and she runs and finds a ladder that leads back to the conveyor belt.
On the conveyor belt Sam initially loses her balance with the motion but manages to crawl to the first person nearest her, a man in his forties, dressed in old ragged clothing.
“Wake up,” she shakes him, but he is unresponsive with no pulse.
She moves to the next and the next. All dead. Her stomach knots up with grief and her eyes well up with tears. So much death.
The gap between her and the furnace closes again. The flames lash out at her like an angry beast preparing to devour its prey.
Sam holds onto the hope that someone is alive, and goes to the next woman, but nothing. She hopelessly casts one final look at the bodies before jumping off the conveyor belt.
There is only one thing left to do. Save herself. The trash headed for incineration falls from a duct five feet above the conveyor belt. It is not possible to exit from there. Realizing that she has to find another way out of this God forsaken place, Sam picks a random direction and runs.
This garbage incineration facility is vast. Sam keeps running for about five minutes until she finds a metal ladder and climbs it. The ladder leads to a set of walkways overlooking the factory floor. From this vantage point the conveyor belt which almost led to her complete extermination is visible. A group of workers in orange overalls haul a cart and dump a few more bodies onto the belt.
She stops herself from going back, remembering that they are all dead.
Sam spins around as heavy footfalls sound behind her. It's one of the workers, over six feet tall with broad shoulders and an athletic build. He holds a large wrench in his right hand.
“What the hell?” The worker exclaims in surprise. "You're suppose to be dead."
"Listen, I just want to get out of here."
The worker lets out a wry laugh at Sam’s request. It’s clear letting her go is not an option. He lifts his beefy right arm and swings the wrench at her in an attempt to crush her skull, but she ducks. The wrench makes contact with the metal railing behind her with a resounding clang.
Sam knows the noise of the fight will attract more workers, which will spell her demise.
The man swings at her again. But again misses when she steps aside with speed and agility. His momentum carries him forward past Sam. With the lightness of a gymnast, Sam uses the side railings to pounce on his shoulders and wrap her legs around his neck. With a twist of her body she snaps his neck as she goes down to the ground.
He lays, limp, neck twisted in an unnatural angle, eyes wide open, staring at nothing. Sam regrets that she had to do this and ponders whether he has a family, a wife and kids.
"Sorry," Sam whispers and then runs away in search for an exit.
Sam spots a faint red glow on the wall ahead, but the source of the glow is blocked by a metal support beam of the walkway she’s on. A few more steps forward and the "exit" sign becomes clear.
Exit out of hell, Sam thinks.
As she heads towards the exit, a few workers in their orange overalls appear from a side door on the level below. She immediately freezes in place. Any step and her heavy boots will alert them of her presence.
The workers stop underneath her as they talk to each other, but the noise of the heavy machinery drowns out their voices. Sam watches them through the metal grid which makes up the floor. If they look up they'll see her standing there.
Sam has been in tough spots before, but this situation is unthinkable. Who wants to dispose of her? The worker whom she killed didn't expect to see her alive. Why is she the only survivor? Regardless of the answer, getting captured and killed is not an option.
Sweat drips over her eyes causing them to burn, but she doesn't move a muscle, fearing that any motion will attract their attention. Her heart beats faster and her breathing is shallow as she fights the urge to make a run for the exit.
The memories of her father return, but this time he is not the strong man that she recalled him to be. Rather, he is old and wheelchair bound, continuously connected to an oxygen supply to aid him in his breathing. Sam is his primary caretaker and needs to get back to him.
The workers laugh loudly and start to disperse to their assigned duties. Sam exhales in relief as she watches them disappear among the large equipment. In a few moments they are out of sight leaving Sam free to rush to the exit, then out into the sweet cold night air.
Sam takes in her surroundings. A few acres extend in each direction. The incineration facility's premises are large. A barbed fence, approximately fifteen-feet tall, extends to the limits of her vision. There is no hope of climbing over the fence but there must be a gate somewhere.
The engine of a Semi-trailer truck roars to life, shattering the silence of the night. It starts to roll forward towards where Sam is standing. She quickly hides underneath the set of stairs that lead down from the facility to ground level. A moment later the truck passes her, moving slowly. This is her ticket out of there. She runs after the truck and with some effort grabs onto the rear gate handle of the trailer and climbs up into the cargo hall. Boxes and crates of different sizes fill the space. Sam sneaks a peak at the driver’s side mirror, worried that he could’ve seen her, but it doesn’t look like he did. Deeper in the cargo trailer she finds an empty corner and slumps down exhausted. Her mind thumping with confusion and unanswered questions, Sam soon falls asleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Two Years Earlier
Detective Samantha Stone parked her car in an abandoned location in East Vancouver, British Columbia. Over the past few years this area of town had seen significant socioeconomic deterioration. It wasn’t completely understood why the Canadian economy had been declining so quickly. Conspiracy theorists declared that the government’s lax laws opened the doors to unmonitored foreign investments which had allowed control of the law making process to transition into the hands of these investors. Laws were then drafted under the new system which permitted local natural resources to be manipulated and eventually usurped by them. The results were not apparent overnight. It took decades to transfer money out of the people’s pockets and into the investors’. Not to mention the extreme environmental impact which followed due to the pollution and abuse of the natural resources. Again, no one knew whether the unmonitored abuse of the country’s resources lead to the floods, the torrential rains and the bitter winters, but it was likely at least part of the problem.
Sam, however, was a pragmatist and considered all these theories a waste of time. She only focused on where she could make a positive and tangible difference. As a police detective, the biggest impact she could have was to improve people’s safety and seek justice. This was her mission tonight. She looked at her watch as the hour hit 11pm. Her informant, Jack, a homeless man, had told her that a big operation was taking place tonight. Right here. If he was correct, this would be the golden opportunity Sam had been looking for to confidently go to her superiors having arrested a convicted kidnapper. But no one believed Jack. In fact all her colleagues advised her to drop him as an informant. He was a drunk. A druggie. And possibly delusional. Everyone told her there was no good reason to believe him. But the intel he was providing was to a large degree accurate; albeit always exaggerated, but not entirely wrong. With a quick and trained maneuver, she took out her pistol, popped out the magazine and checked her ammunition.
Sam met Jack on the site of the first homeless person kidnapping she investigated. There he was in filthy worn down cloths, trying to get through the police checkpoint, yelling and swearing. He was moments away from being tazered and dragged away. But Sam intervened and listened to what he had to say. It was possible that no one had ever taken the time to listen to the guy, because he went on and on, from one topic to another. Sam ended up knowing about his family, why he lived on the streets, how his daughter kicked him out of her house. Among all this excess of information, however, it was evident that he was an eye witness to the kidnapping. Since then, Sam had several breakthroughs in what seemed to be a serial kidnapping case only targeting homeless people. Some of the breakthroughs were due to the information he provided. But then her commanding officer decided to shutdown the investigation. Just like that. Out of the blue. That didn't sit well with her. It was her investigation, only she had the right to shut it down. If indeed there was a kidnapping operation taking place tonight, she could crack this case wide open. Stopping now was not an option. Disobeying orders could have negative repercussions, but she didn't care. She was too stubborn and committed to care.
Sam re-holstered her pistol then grabbed a backpack from the backseat and got out of the car without even bothering to lock it. It was a cold and rainy night, and only a few were out on the streets. Some homeless people had setup tarps over their huts to protect themselves from the rain, but to no avail. She felt sorry for them, but this wasn't the time for compassion. She had a mission.
Sam walked with a brisk pace past a few closed shops and then entered a dark ally between two old and worn down buildings. The only illumination was the light from lamp posts a few blocks away. The light bounced off the buildings’ broken windows and the wet ground. Her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. At first the alley appeared empty. But upon closer inspection Sam spotted more homeless people who were using the buildings for shelter.
She walked through the dark alley searching for Jack. Disinterested eyes followed her as she walked past their abode.
"Psst," Sam stopped and looked in the direction of the sound. But she couldn't make out anything in the darkness.
A moment later a homeless man stepped out of the darkness and gestured for her to come close. Sam looked around to make sure no one was watching and stepped into the man's hut.
"What do you have for me, Jack?" Sam asked the homeless man.
"Payment first."
Sam reached into her backpack and took out a plastic bag. Inside, there were a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of water.
"What's this?" Jack asked in disbelief.
"Payment," Sam answered.
"Is this a joke? What kind of payment is this?"
"The only one you'll get from me."
Sam took out three gift cards from her pocket and showed it to Jack. Two of the cards were for food stores and the third was for a clothing store.
"And if I find your tips useful then I'll give you these."
Jack shrugged.
"Come on, Jack. We both know I'll never give you cash," Sam said.
She kicked a small container on the ground, which Jack kept covered up, and a few needles spilled out.
"You’ll just waste it on that. I ain't gonna support your habit," Sam said, then shoved Jack back pinning him to the wall. Even though he was bigger than she was, he didn't give much resistance. "Listen, Jack. You have a real chance to get out of this slum in your life."
"What do you care?"
"Doesn't matter why I care; what matters is you have an opportunity. I have enough money on these cards to feed you for a month, and buy you new cloths. You can use them as a tool to start over. Find a new job."
"You think it's that easy? Old Jack just steppin’ back into the world of the living?"
"No, I don't think it's easy. It's probably gonna be very hard, but I know you can do it. Remember you told me that you were an engineer. For God’s sake, don't you wanna go back to that life?"
Jack considered what she said for a moment.
"Fine, I'll take it."
"Information, first."
Jack removed Sam's arm off his chest and walked past her.
"Follow me."
Sam followed Jack through a set of dark alleyways, until they came to the edge of a clearing, boxed in by buildings from all sides. The only way a car can get in or out of the clearing was via a narrow road which cut between the buildings. Sam and Jack hid behind a large rotten wooden cargo box and waited.
"What are we doing here?" Sam asked.
"Wait and see."
Sam took out her gun in anticipation. It could be nothing. It could be that her colleagues were right and Jack was just a druggie who didn't know what he was talking about. But then again he might know exactly what he was talking about.
They waited there for an hour. Jack cracked open one of the sandwiches Sam gave him and started eating it. He offered her a bite. Much doubt went through Sam’s mind. This could all be a waste of time.
"No thanks," she said. "Are you sure about this?"
"You think I'm an old fart don't you?"
"I never said that."
"You don't have to. I can see it in your eyes. You think old Jack is a drugged up old fool that should just die."
"Whoa, man. That's taking it a bit far!"
"You think it's taking it too far, but that's what my daughter said when she kicked me out."
Jack bit a mouth full from his sandwich and just shrugged. Sam looked at him narrowly. Was he pulling her leg? She couldn't tell. But she didn't have much time to think about it because just then a black van pulled up beside the old building on the other side of the clearing.
"Here, here. See. I was telling the truth," Jack pointed at the van.
"Shh", Sam gestured at him to remain hidden and quiet.
"What are you going to do?" Jack whispered.
"Call in the cavalry."
Sam took out her phone and dialed the precinct.
"Officer Stone, you disobeyed a direct order," the angry voice on the other end said. It was her boss. How did he know what she was up to? She didn’t tell anyone?
"Yes sir, I did. And I'll accept the consequences, but I'm witnessing a kidnapping taking place right now."
"Don't do anything rash. Wait for backup."
"No time sir. You have my location send back up now."
Sam hung up and tensed her grip on the gun.
"Wait here," she ordered Jack. Sam circled the clearing, approaching the van but staying hidden in the shadows.
Sam positioned herself in direct line of sight of the van. The van’s back doors were open and the light in the cargo area was on. It was empty. At this point she was hoping she didn't make a fool of herself, calling in backup for nothing.
She waited there to see what would happen next. A few minutes later, two large men appeared from one of the buildings carrying the body of a woman. Sam couldn't tell if she was dead or alive. They put her in the back of the van, throwing her in like a sack of potatoes. The way they handled her, like a dead animal, angered Sam, but she chose not to act, keeping in mind the bigger objective; find out why the kidnappings were taking place. The men returned to the building.
Sam had two choices. Either she could arrest these two men or go into the building and learn more. Arresting them was the wrong strategy. They were likely just henchmen taking orders from their bosses. Following them as they complete their mission would be Sam’s golden opportunity to find out why these kidnappings were happening. Sam figured the brains behind this operation wanted to keep things low profile. Kidnap a homeless person and no one would notice or care. But why? What were they doing with these people?
Sam strode toward the rear end of the building, keeping an eye on the two men to reappear. The back entrance was locked. She looked through a small glass window in the door to make sure there was no one on the other side and when she was sure the coast was clear she kicked the door at the handle. The locking mechanism shattered under the force of the impact and the door swung in.
Sam burst in, gun ready.
The door opened to a small stairwell which stank with the ammonia smell of human urine. She ignored the stench and headed up the stairs to the first floor. The entrance to that floor was not locked. The red carpet was worn out and dirty. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the light almost nonexistent. Sam squinted through the darkness, gripping her gun tighter with anticipation.
Shuffling noises came from one of the apartments.
“Open the door,” Sam heard one man spout out an order.
“Damn, this guy is heavy,” another responded as the apartment door started to swing wide.
Sam hid around the corner and watched the two guys exit carrying another homeless man. They walked to the end of the hall and entered a small elevator. Sam waited a moment until she was sure they were gone and headed toward the apartment they came out of.
Inside Sam could barely comprehend what she saw. There was a row of homeless people lining the floor of the room. Each one was hooked up to an intravenous drip. Sam checked several of them. They were alive, but appeared to be sedated.
It had been ten minutes since she had called for backup. The police should've been here in under five minutes. What was going on?
Sam exited the apartment at exactly the same time the two guys were coming back.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she aimed the gun at them.
"Stop, you're under arrest," Sam blurted out.
They put up their hands. One of the men had a deep scar under his left eye.
"Turn around and get on your knees."
They obeyed.
Sam sensed movement behind her and only after heard a click of a gun getting ready to fire. She immediately dove to the floor as a bullet missed her and hit the larger of the two guys in the back. He collapsed without a sound. Scar man took out his gun and attempted to aim it at Sam, but Sam fired in his direction missing him, but forcing him to back up.
Sam fired in the direction of the first gunshot as she scrambled back inside the apartment where the homeless people were being stored like animals. The two assailants followed after her.
This wasn't good; no backup; limited ammunition. She was dead.
The two men burst in and fired in her direction. They missed Sam but hit at least one of the homeless people, whose body lurched violently as the bullet made contact.
"Alright. Alright," Sam said. "Hold your fire. I give up."
"Your gun," the scar man ordered.
Sam threw her gun on the floor and out of her reach as she got out from her hiding spot; her hands above her head.
"I’m a police detective," Sam said. "Backup is on its way. It’ll be good all around if you just surrender."
"On your knees," the man with the scar ordered, his gun trained at Sam.
Sam followed his order. The scar man holstered his gun and took out handcuffs while the other kept his gun trained on Sam.
"Put your hands behind your back."
Sam obeyed.
The man moved closer to her. Sam waited until she judged that the man with the scar was between her and the other gunman, compromising their advantage over her. She spun around lightning fast and ripped the handcuffs out of scar man’s hand. With a quick practiced flick she locked the cuffs around his wrist and rapidly pulled him towards her. On the approach her knee went up and nailed him in the groin. He let out a throaty groan as he fell to his knees.
Having scar man incapacitated for a few moments gave Sam the opportunity to snatch his gun from its holster. As she did she saw his police badge. These guys were cops, corrupt cops! Sam’s mind momentarily reeled as she tried to make sense of this, but there was no time right now to try and figure out why corrupt cops were kidnapping homeless people. A mere handful of feet away the other cop was readying his aim, but Sam shot first using scar man’s gun and nailed the shooter in the shoulder.
By this time, however, the scarred man had regained his composure and drove his head back into Sam's face breaking her nose. She staggered backwards, momentarily disoriented. But that was enough time for the cop that Sam shot in the shoulder to recover and fire at Sam.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
All three shots hit Sam's torso. She looked down at the blood oozing from her wounds and thought, who’s going to take care of my dad now?
CHAPTER THREE
Present Day
Sam wakes up in a jolt, disoriented and sweaty. It takes her a moment to realize she is still on the semi trailer truck.
Her Dad.
Sam has to find her Dad. He needs her. She is his primary care taker.
How long has she been gone for?
With his Pulmonary fibrosis Sam’s dad requires a lot of help. Every physical move is an arduous task for him, like running a marathon. And it's getting worse. She has to get back to him or he won't survive.
Feelings of anxiety start to burden her. Since her mom died in that terrible accident Sam and her father, John, lived alone together. She loves that man, even though she never actually said it out loud. Sometimes he makes it hard for her to express her feelings. Communication isn’t his forte, but she knows that he loves her too. She can see it in his actions; in the way he thanks her; in the way he never judged her as the others did; in the way he has spent his entire life laboring in that metal fabrication factory in order to put her through school and give her every means of comfort. She is sure he loves her. Sam wants so much to run right into his arms and hug him.
“Everything will be okay,” he will tell her and she will believe him. No matter how hard life gets, she knows her father will be there when she needs him.
The truck slows down, distracting Sam’s stream of thought. She sneaks a peak out the side of the trailer. It looks like they are slowing down to enter a gas station in the middle of no where. The city lights are distant, but which city is it? Is she still in Vancouver?
Sam jumps out of the trailer and hides behind the gas station building. Within twenty minutes the truck driver finishes fueling the truck and drives away. She feels somewhat safe now that the incineration facility is far behind her.
The shop attached to the gas station is small. Just as she enters the eyes of the attendant dart towards her.
What’s his problem? Sam thinks.
"Hi," Sam says. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom?"
The attendant, a young man in his early twenties, seems hesitant.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to cause you any trouble. Just a bit lost," Sam says.
"Sure," the attendant says. "You'll need the key."
The attendant points at the key hanging on the wall beside the bathroom door.
"Thanks," Sam smiles in an attempt to reassure him.
She grabs the key and enters the bathroom. After a moment of fiddling in the dark she finds the light switch and flicks it on and freezes. The mirror image looking back at her is almost unrecognizable. Her dark brown hair is longer with hints of gray. Her deep sea blue eyes are puffed up and tired. Her smooth olive skin is covered in tar. She’s been through hell. Sam takes a closer look at her face. It has the wrinkles of years she doesn’t remember living. What is going on?
Sam opens her shirt, revealing a toned body. There they are, the scars from the bullet wounds. But they are scars. It takes a long time for bullet wounds to heal. And come to think of it, there is no way anyone could’ve survived being shot three times in the torso. How's she still alive? She buttons her shirt back up.
The water is cold and refreshing as it splashes on her face and rinses off the layer of black tar. When she walks out of the bathroom, the attendant can see her beauty making him less suspicious of her.
"Thanks," she waves at the attendant. "By the way, what's today's date?
"Umm, it's July the 18th."
"The year?"
"2033!"
Sam has a blank stare. 2033! The last thing she remembers was getting shot, back in 2031. She's missing two years of her life.
“Dad!” She whispers to herself. It’s been two years? What has become of her dad? She needs to find him. Now.
“Are you ok?” The attendant asks.
Sam doesn’t answer.
“Ma’am?”
"Ah… Where are we?"
"We're at the border of Maple Ridge and Mission."
Sam looks lost. Her life as she knows it is gone. She has no family, no money, no identity, nothing. Her dad is all she’s got. Her mission is clear. Get back to her father.
CHAPTER FOUR
Father Moses Jones, a Christian Priest, drives back from Abbotsford, British Columbia. It's been a long troubling day. He had just spent many hours with a terminally ill cancer patient from his congregation. The doctors estimate that Daniel has only a few more weeks to live. But he isn't the one Fr. Moses worries about. It's his sister. She has been going through a crisis of faith.
How could God do this to Daniel? She kept on asking. I can't believe in a God who allows suffering and pain to good people. What's the use of a God who watches people suffer and does nothing about it?
He doesn't know how to comfort her. Anything he'll say to her now will only be misconstrued as justification for her brother's impending death. Even Daniel himself hasn't been able to help her. In fact, the main reason Daniel is worried about his death is how it'll impact his sister's life. Her spiritual life in specific.
As Fr. Moses ponders these events he notices a woman running on the side of the road. From her form it appears she has been running for a while and now is exhausted. He slows down the car and pulls up beside her then rolls down the passenger side window.
“Where are you headed?” Fr. Moses asks.
The woman looks at him, out of breath, eyes puffy and red.
“Are you ok?” Fr. Moses asks concerned.
“Please, you have to help me,” the woman says, a sense of urgency in her voice.
“Sure, get in.”
Fr. Moses considers himself a good judge of character. He’s pretty sure this woman is not faking her distress.
She gets into the passenger side.
“I need to get to 3730 Price Street in Burnaby,” the woman says.
“Ah, ok,” Fr. Moses says as he puts the car in gear and starts driving again. “Are you ok?”
The woman sniffs and wipes away her sweat, composing herself for a moment without responding.
“Yeah, I’m okay. How far are we from Burnaby?” She asks.
“Let me find out,” Fr. Moses touches a screen in the dashboard and it comes to life. “Locate address.”
“Say address now,” the car’s navigation system says.
Fr. Moses looks at the woman, who repeats the address for the GPS’ sake.
“Time to arrive at destination is fifty-five minutes,” the computer informs them in its synthetic voice.
A map flickers to existence on the screen with an arrow representing their current location.
The woman sits there fidgety, taping her foot, arms crossed. Fr. Moses wonders if he should strike up a conversation, try to calm her down a little.
“I’m Father Moses. What’s your name?”
“Samantha Stone.”
“You look like you haven’t eaten in a long time. Do you want to get something to eat on the way?”
“No. I have to get back now.”
“What’s so urgent?”
“I need to see my dad,” Sam responds.
CHAPTER FIVE
Samantha Stone stares out of the passenger side window at the passing buildings. She and Fr. Moses cross the Burnaby border and are now a few minutes away from their destination. She has long gotten her emotions under control. It wasn’t the smartest idea to appear distraught in front of a stranger. And the only way she can maintain this fragile control is not to think about her dad. And so she turns her attention to the landscape. It has changed over the past two years. Patches of abandoned city blocks are dark, while other areas are lit up. Could this be the result of a power crisis? Conservation of energy by cutting out power in some areas at specific times in the day?
They pass the fifth army solider transport since the beginning of their trip. The army presence was never that pronounced. Two years ago, when she was still a police officer, she knew about the plan to bring in army rangers to support the policing effort. Back then the government started the process of cutting funding to local law enforcement. It opted to direct it to the Army instead. Much has been changing in the world's political landscape. Iran obtained nuclear capabilities. Israel escalated their security measures to protect against Nuclear Iran. Russia ramped up their involvement in the Middle east. And the United State's dominance decreased in key areas around the world. All this prompted Canada to beef up its Army’s defensive and offensive capabilities.
With lack of funding it was more practical to bring the army in to carry out some policing duties. Sam of course didn’t agree with that decision. Soldiers are not police. They train to fight foreign enemies on the battle field. Tracking down criminals, dealing with local disputes and investigating corruption is not part of their skill set. This led to several incidents of heavy handed tactics, much to Sam’s disdain. Several altercations between her and the army attache assigned to her precinct broke out. She’s not a person who keeps her opinions to herself. And the army commander was not a man who liked to be told he was wrong. Especially not from a woman.
Sam pushes this memory away realizing that it is now outdated. Even two years ago things were changing at a rapid pace. She is sure that this hasn’t slowed down, but on the contrary accelerated. Who knows what exactly she’ll encounter today.
“What’s with the Army units?” Sam asks as they pass yet another army truck.
The priest looks at her in surprise, like the answer should be obvious.
“Are you from around here?” He asks.
“Um… Yeah, but I’ve been away for a bit.”
The priest shrugs, dismissing his confusion. “There has been a couple of terror attacks in Vancouver and Burnaby. Many fatalities,” he trails out with a distant look on his face. “People I knew died in that attack. So they sent more Army units to safeguard vital areas.”
“Terror attacks? I don’t recall that being a problem.”
Again the priest appears confused at her lack of knowledge of current events.
“It’s been all over the news,” the priest says. “How could you not have heard about it?”
Sam looks away and doesn’t answer. What can she tell him? That she woke up today about to get incinerated? Or that she has a gaping hole in her memory? Or maybe that she was fatally shot, but some how lives? He won’t believe her, and it will just make him doubt her credibility more. Even though he is a priest he could always decide to stop and kick her out of the car. And right now she needs to get to her dad.
“You’re a priest, right?” Sam changes the subject.
“What gave it away?” The priest smiles. “Is it the black robe? Or the big metal cross?” He holds up the silver cross hanging around his neck.
“Well, those are hard to miss. Orthodox right?”
Fr. Moses looks at Sam surprised she recognized his alignment.
“I’m Orthodox too,” she explains, not wanting him to start another line of questioning. “From Romania. Moved here a long time ago. That’s how I recognized you.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing out in the middle of no-where?”
Why does he have to be so inquisitive? Sam thinks.
Again, Sam decides silence is the best answer. But another development happens which demands both of their attention. As the GPS indicates they are nearing Sam’s house, the landscape changes again. This time it’s not only the electricity that’s absent, but entire houses are burned to the ground. Debris litter the street. From dry wall, to burnt furniture to random house hold items small and large. It looks like a war zone. Fr. Moses reduces his speed to avoid hitting these obstacles.
Sam’s heart skips a beat. She holds her breath, an ugly feeling starting to dawn on her.
What happened here? Sam thinks in panic. Dad, I hope you’re ok.
Finally, the GPS indicates that they arrived at their destination. Sam’s worst fears come true. Her father’s house is nothing more than a pile of rubble. Not only her house but the entire neighborhood. It looks like this was a result of an air raid. Sam, unable to catch her breath, scrambles out of the car before it comes to a full stop and runs to her house. The fire has consumed everything. But this wasn’t recent. This is something that happened a while ago.
Sam searches the rubble. She pushes aside blocks of burnt wood. They land with a thud and a cloud of ash rises in the air. She holds on to the hope that there is something, anything, that shows her father is still alive. An oxygen container appears to have escaped complete destruction. These are the containers which her dad used round the clock to aid his breathing. He depended on them for survival. She scurries to the oxygen container and realizes she’s standing where the living room used to be. After her father’s deterioration, he couldn’t go up and down the stairs, so they built for him a make shift bedroom on the main floor close to the kitchen and the bathroom. This way he could at least take care of himself when Sam wasn’t around. Of course he would never agree to hiring someone to help him. Everyone thought he was too proud to accept help, but Sam knew better. It wasn’t pride. He knew his death was near and didn’t want to waste money on himself. Instead, he wanted to leave as much for her as possible.
Her eyes water as she recalls this memory.
Something shiny glistens under the bright moon light, attracting her attention. Piles of ash and dirt cover it. Only the edge is visible. Sam kneels down and clears the ash. It’s a picture frame containing an image of a ten-year-old Sam mounted on her dad’s shoulder in front of a large white rock. She remembers the day her mom took that picture as if it was yesterday. It was a mere month after they moved to Vancouver, Canada. Her dad took them to White Rock for a walk on the beach during a sunny summer day. They didn’t know why the place was called White Rock until they encountered a rock that was literally painted white. Sam had demanded to sit on top of the rock, but of course it was way too large, even for her dad to climb. The compromise they reached was for Sam to mount her dad’s shoulder and try and see how far she could reach. After she did, her mother took that picture. Sam mounted on her father’s strong shoulders. A few weeks later, that terrible accident claimed her mother's life. Since then her father became her stronghold; her fortress. The man who would carry her on his shoulders through all the rough patches in her life.
Sam’s emotional control shatters to oblivion and the tears start to flow, interrupted by frequent sobs. She hugs the picture. The final and only reminder of her dad; of her life; of who she once was.
CHAPTER SIX
Samantha Stone doesn’t recall how she got into the priest’s car again. Her mind is preoccupied with keeping her family picture safe. And then a realization dawns on her. The destruction of the house was complete. How could this photo have survived? Could her dad have placed it there? Or maybe someone else wanted to give her a clue about what happened? More questions gnaw at her. One in specific: could the destruction of the neighborhood be a result of her actions? Because of her insistence on keeping the investigation into the disappearance of the homeless people going? If so, then she was the cause of her father’s death. It’s all her fault. She killed him by her insubordination.
“What happened to my house?” she asks after a long pause, choking back tears.
“I’m trying to recall,” Father Moses looks at her with compassion. “I think it was about a year ago, maybe two. A terror attack. The police chased the terrorists across the city. They ended up here. Some how the terrorists were able to invade people’s houses and take them hostage. They demanded safe passage out of the country and threatened to burn down the houses if their demands weren’t met. Things descended into chaos from there. The police called in the army. Shootings. Deaths. It was horrible. No one knows how things got so out of control. As far as I can recall, this was a turning point in the army’s involvement in civilian lives. From then on, the government beefed up army presence. And with the state of the economy as it is, they never bothered rebuilding the area.”
Sam’s emotions are in a state of confusion; anger, sadness, self-pity. She can’t even speak.
“I’m so sorry,” Fr. Moses continues. “If I had recalled earlier, I would’ve told you.”
Sam holds up her hand, gesturing for him to stop talking. Right now she can’t bear to hear anyone’s voice. She wants to be left alone.
Fr. Moses respects her wish and drives in silence.
Sam doesn’t know how long it took them to arrive at Fr. Moses’ church. She doesn’t even remember if she agreed to go there, but in her current situation, with no place to stay and no one to go to, she doesn’t object.
“I’m not sure if you have a place to stay,” Fr. Moses says. “But you’re more than welcome to stay at the church. We have a spare bedroom. It’s yours for as long as you want.”
Sam looks up at him and nods, still somewhat absent-minded. There is so much for her to absorb. She needs time to recover; to come up with a strategy on how to deal with her an uncertain future.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sam sits in a small room in Fr. Moses' Holy Trinity Orthodox church. She has already taken a shower and is feeling somewhat refreshed. An old circular analogue clock hangs on the wall opposite her bed. She stares at the seconds hand as it ticks the passing time. It is past 9pm. Finally, there is time to sit down and think about her ordeal. Being in the rubble of her old house was a devastating experience. But she found that the further away she left it, the more composed she started to feel. The loss of her father still stings every time she conjures a fond memory of him. The searing pain is starting to lessen, however, and this gives way to some clarity of mind.
How can she find out what has happened over the past two years? Does she still have access to the Vancouver Police Department Database?
I wonder what everyone thinks happened to me? Sam thinks. Do they think I’m dead? If the department thinks I’m dead, then they would’ve reset all my passwords. But if they don’t then why haven’t they been looking for me. I don’t think I’m going to like the answer in either case. Anyway, let me try and access the VPD database just for the heck of it. There must be a computer somewhere in this church. I just have to find it.
Sam walks out of the room into the dark corridor and sets on a search for a computer. The old concrete walls are decorated with religious pictures of saints on her left. A series of paintings on her right show the birth of the Lord Jesus Christ, his escape to Egypt, his baptism, preaching, crucifixion, resurrection and ascension to the heavens. Surrounded by assurance that the world was not created in vain and that the creator of heaven and earth is still very much active in everyone’s life, eases her trepidation.
Sam thinks back to when she got shot.
Those guys were cops, Sam think. That explains why backup didn’t arrive. Was my commanding officer in on it? That’s why he didn’t want me to keep the investigation active. I must’ve been getting closer to something and that scared them off. How high does the corruption go? And why kidnap homeless people?
Sam can’t think of any answers. A battle rages within her, a part of her wants to open up an investigation into these events. But another part sees this as an opportunity to start anew. Forget the past. Will the past forget her, though?
Sam looks into the rooms off the main corridor. Most of them are used for Sunday School classes and are furnished with chairs and desks for students. There is a computer setup in the final room. She enters and switches it on. The room feels damp with a slight smell of mold.
Must be the old brick walls, Sam thinks.
Luckily the computer is not password protected. As expected, when she tries to access the VPD Database, her access is denied. Next logical step is an Internet search.
She reads news articles around the time of her disappearance and looks for any clues which could shed some light on what happened to her. But there is nothing documenting her death. Nothing at all. It is as if it never happened. But she has the scars to prove that it did.
She does, however, read though some articles outlining the terrorist act which destroyed her neighborhood. The attack occurred only two months after she was shot. The article lists the names of the nineteen victims of the attack including her father. The pain of losing her father swells again, and tears blur her vision. Through the tears she spots a name she doesn’t expect, Sullivan Blake.
Sullivan Blake? Sam thinks, blinking away the tears. My high school sweet heart? When did he come back from Germany? He had no one here? Just the empty family home he inherited after his parents passed. Wait a minute. His name was on the house ownership. Could it all be a setup?
Sam searches Blake’s name and finds his Spider page. Spider is the latest social media concoction. She opens up his page hurriedly and checks the dates on a picture of him and his wife that he has posted on his profile page. It is dated a mere month ago.
What the hell? Sam sits back in her chair. She starts to curl a strand of her long hair between her thumb and index fingers. It was a habit that her father wanted her to stop, but it relaxed her; helped her think. Sullivan is not dead. What did they do? Did they just assume that he was dead since his house burnt down? Or was the whole terrorist attack staged? But why? The timing is strange too. The attack happened only a few months after my disappearance. This can’t be a coincidence. What is going on?
One final Internet search is on herself, Samantha Stone. But no hits. That in itself might not be strange since being a detective requires her to have no social media presence. What’s disheartening though is when she tries to log into her email. The email provider reports her private email account is none existent. Even though she hasn't accessed it for the past two years, it should have been archived, not deleted. It appears, someone went through great lengths to erase her identity.
Sam starts to piece the clues together.
She's the only one in her department who insisted on continuing the missing homeless investigation.
When she got a lead and followed through with it, she was shot by corrupt cops.
Even though she shouldn't have survived these gun wounds, yet here she is.
She has no recollection of the past two years.
Her first memory is of narrowly escaping incineration; an effective method of erasing someone from the face of this earth.
Her father and pretty much everyone she knows is dead in an unprecedented terrorist attack. The first one of its kind to occur on Canadian soil.
An article reports Sullivan Blake's death in the same terrorist attack, but he’s not dead..
And now it appears that someone has completely erased her existence.
The big question is why?
Sam lets go of her hair and rubs her eyes, tired.
I’m not going to get any answers, not tonight. Sam yawns. Maybe try and get some shut eye. Like dad used to say, tomorrow is a new day.
Back in her room Sam stretches herself on the not-so-comfortable bed, and starts to consider how much help she should seek from Fr. Moses. Her past experiences with clergy were not great. Long forgotten memories of interactions with them start to surface. Memories that are painted in a negative light. At one point Sam thought that priesthood was corrupt. It is not what Jesus established it to be two thousand years ago. He established it to serve the people; to help them grow in the knowledge of God and in their Christian walk. But somewhere along the line something changed; something went wrong. It wasn't about serving people anymore, it became about controlling people. It became a way to wield the Word of God as a weapon to ensure people's obedience. If you don't listen to the priest then you can not partake in God's banquet.
Sam's independent spirit detests the idea of control. And because of that she found no room to grow her character and her talents in the church in which she grew up. The three priests there didn't appreciate any break with traditions. They treated tradition as a holy thing, given by God, while she knows now that it is not so. Man's tradition is exactly that, man's tradition; made by man and not divinely inspired.
But that wasn't her main pet peeve. It was with how they exercised their authority to control people. And in doing so they set a precedent. Anyone with any sort of authority in the church sought to control others within their domain. It was a sick environment to live in.
Sam has a strong belief that the role of the church is to grow people's characters. It's there to arm people with the knowledge they need to live an honorable life. But what she experienced is an institution which demanded blind faith. Questions were discouraged in both the dogmatic and organizational areas. When she was nineteen years old, she decided to give up. Call it quits. It had come down to either continuing to fight a corrupt system, or move on with her life. Find peace in some other form. She chose the latter.
She still believed in God and the principles of Orthodox Christianity. But decided not to get too involved with clergy again. And now here is a member of the clergy who has taken her in and is willing to help her out. Preconceptions in life can be misleading. Just because her experiences revolve around a few troublesome clergy members, doesn't mean all of them are so. She realizes that she has to deal with everyone on their individual merit, and not judge all on the account of the few. It is hard, but it is something that must be done; especially now.
Sam drifts off to a dream-filled sleep.
In her dreams, the fire eats away at the walls of her house. Sam navigates through the flames in search for her father. Just when he is within reach a formidable wall of fire rises and blocks her path. A moment later she stands in the middle of her neighborhood. Houses burning. Ashes raining down. Through the haze she can see a frail, but handsome young man on a wheel chair. He’s about her age, dark brown eyes, curly and thick dirty blond hair. As the haze subsides, Sam can see him clearly. He slowly disintegrates. His hair falls off, his skin cracks, his lively eyes grow dim. The man extends his hand to Sam calling for her help. An urge to run to his aid grows within her. Sam has never seen him before, but feels the extreme need to reach out and take his hand. Just as she starts to walk towards him a helicopter comes swooping in dangerously close to the man. Sam looks on in horror as the rotating helicopter blade slices through the man in the wheelchair and he explodes into a million pieces as if he were a statue made of stone.
Sam wakes up drenched in sweat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Allison Miller sits in the back pews of the church as Fr. Moses prays the Holy Liturgy with only one deacon. Daniel, Allison’s brother, sits at the front of the church. He can’t stand for long periods of time due to his physical condition. After a two-year battle with blood cancer, Allison knows that he has only a few weeks left, at least that was the opinion of most of the doctors they’ve been seeing. They estimated he had six months to live, six months ago. Daniel on his part made sure to partake in the Holy Communion as often as possible. He believes this is important for his eternal life. A belief that Allison has lost since the start of his disease.
Fr. Moses administers the Holy Communion to the deacon, Daniel and Allison. The deacon leaves and Fr. Moses sits with Daniel to take his confession.
In the mean time Allison Miller sits in the back of the church, feeling helpless. She sees her brother getting weaker everyday, and sees no benefit in all these rituals. They aren't making a difference. Her brother is going to die, and she can't fathom a life without him. He has always been there for her. The day she flunked her physics final, he was there to encourage her; when she broke up with her fiancé, he was there. He has always supported her. And is she now expected to accept his impending death? To believe in some greater good? There is no guarantee what happens after death. Why should she believe there is a place where her brother will be eternally joyful with his Savior? She is a scientist and there is no evidence of any of that.
Allison hears movement behind her. She turns around and sees a woman, maybe in her mid twenties, with long brown hair, beautiful and expressive blue eyes, sit in the bench behind her. The woman smiles at Allison.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," the woman says.
"It's okay, Daniel is almost done," Allison replies, her grief quiet clear in the tone of her voice.
"Are you alright?" The woman asks, genuinely concerned.
Allison turns away, wiping tears from her eyes.
The woman respects Allison's privacy and doesn't pry.
Daniel finishes with Fr. Moses, and heads back to Allison. He loses his balance but steadies himself on one of the pews. He takes a moment and then continues on his trek toward Allison. Allison fights the urge to race to his assistance. She knows how much he likes his independence, so she holds back the urge. However, as he approaches her, he staggers and this time there is no way he'll be able to regain his balance. Allison’s instincts take over and she rushes to support him, but she's not the only one. The woman sitting behind her, moves as well, and they both end up supporting him from either side.
But something strange happens next. Allison doesn't know how to describe it. The woman grabs onto Daniel's hand. At her touch, Allison sees a momentary golden glow where the woman’s skin touches Daniel’s. Are her eyes playing tricks on her?
Daniel convulses for a moment and then collapses to the floor.
CHAPTER NINE
Ten Minutes Earlier
Samantha Stone walks into the sanctuary and takes a seat on the pew behind the only woman in the church. Fr. Moses sits with a man at the front pew. Sam busies herself reading some of the liturgical books left on the bench. Although her surroundings are similar to the church she used to go to yet something feels off.
Thanks mom, Sam thinks. You always made me feel guilty for coming to church late. What did you use to tell me? “I love those who love me; and those that seek me early shall find me?” That was a bible verse?
Sam picks up a Bible and flips to the book of Proverbs written by Solomon.
Yes, here it is, Sam continues her thought. Ah, the good ol’ days, mom. I used to get so mad at you when you woke me up at 7 in the morning on Sundays. It was my one day off and I wanted to sleep in. But I couldn’t stay mad at you for long! How could I? You prepared me lunch every day. Those yummy melted cheese sandwiches. Man, I miss you mom. And dad, you never really pampered me. Where would I be without you? I think you’re one of the reasons I decided to join the police academy. All these times you dragged me to help people move, or to buy stuff for the people at church who lived below the poverty line and there were a lot of them. And they never appreciated you. They even started a rumor that you helped because you were getting kickbacks from the church board. What a bunch of… Ah dad, I was so mad at them, but you taught me to ignore the nay sayers.
Sam feels a tear wetting her face. She wipes it away quickly.
Enough, Sam commands herself. That’s enough. Don’t be such a mush. You have to be tough. Yes, that’s it. Push it to the back of your mind. I can reminisce later. I need to stay on task. Why does it feel like this liturgy is only meant for that guy over there?
Sam felt out of place, as if she intruded on a private session. She is about to get up and leave, when the woman in the front pew turns back to see who’s sitting behind her. Her tearful eyes move Sam to compassion. She decides to stay, just in case she’s needed. A strange premonition convinces her this might just be the case.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," Sam says.
"It's okay, Daniel is almost done," The woman replies, her grief quiet clear in the tone of her voice.
"Are you alright?" Sam asks concerned.
The woman doesn’t answer, but turns away. Still suffering from loss, Sam can immediately relate to what the woman feels. She lost someone, or she is about to.
Sam’s guess is proven correct when she sees the man sitting with Fr. Moses get up and head back toward the woman. He can hardly walk, leaning on the pews as he does; body frail, skin pale, a thin tube running from a small canister to his nose. Sam recognizes this as an oxygen supply tank. Her dad used it for four years. But something else seems familiar about this guy. Has she seen him before? The realization comes in a sudden jolt. This is the same man from her dreams yesterday. How is this even possible? A wave of compassion for the man rolls over Sam. It is strange, but she almost feels that he is the reason she ran into Fr. Moses and ended up at his church. But how can she help him? From the looks of it he is very ill. The private liturgy, the tearful woman, all seem to point to an incurable disease.
The man staggers and simultaneously Sam and the woman rush to his aid. Sam reaches him a split second earlier and grabs hold of his hand to steady him. Once they touch, Sam perceives a strange connection between them. And then the man goes into a seizure and falls to the ground.
"Daniel," the woman calls alarmed.
Fr. Moses rushes to them and kneels by Daniel’s side.
“What did you do?” The woman accuses Sam.
As for Sam, she’s dumbfounded not knowing what just happened.
“I don't know. I wanted to help,” Sam answers.
Fr. Moses takes out his phone and dials 911.
“Hello, we need an ambulance right away. We have a collapsed cancer patient," Fr. Moses gives the address of the church to the emergency operator and hangs up. "The ambulance will be here in a moment.”
Fr. Moses checks Daniel's pulse and then exhales in relief.
“His pulse is okay,” Fr. Moses says, then he looks at Sam. "Samantha, what happened?"
And now the priest is accusing me too, Sam thinks. I didn’t do anything. All I wanted to do was help.
Samantha is confused, "I don't know. I just tried to help him, and then he collapsed."
The woman’s tears rain down her face.
A few minutes later the ambulance arrives and takes Daniel to the hospital.
CHAPTER TEN
Samantha Stone, Allison, whom Sam learned is Daniel’s sister and Fr. Moses are at Langley General Hospital. They wait outside the triage ward at the emergency department. Allison paces impatiently back and forth while both Sam and Fr. Moses each have taken a corner and wait quietly. The emergency is crowded.
This brings back bad memories, Sam thinks, a feeling of disgust settling on her. I must’ve brought dad to the emergency like ten times. We wait, and wait and it’s never good news.
The nurses follow an efficient routine of examining and checking patients in, but Daniel was admitted quickly due to his critical condition.
Sam thinks back on what happened, trying to figure out if she is at fault. All she remembers is watching Daniel struggle as he walked. The overwhelming desire to help him in some way had overcome her. The hurt that comes with seeing a loved one wither away is still fresh in her mind. Over four years, she watched her father succumb to a debilitating disease, an experience which left her helpless, unable to do anything to make him better. It is a devastating blow to her morale to know that she wasn't around for her dad when he needed her most. All this contributed to her desire to help Daniel.
That's all. None of this can explain what happened to Daniel when she touched him. It must all be a coincidence.
A doctor enters the waiting room, and both Fr. Moses and Allison rush to him.
“Is Daniel alright?” Allison asks in desperation.
“Are you Allison Miller?” The doctor asks.
“Yes, yes, I am. Is Daniel okay? Is he going to live?”
“When did you say he was diagnosed with Lymphoma?”
“A year and a half ago? Why?”
“Are you sure this was a correct diagnosis?”
“I don't know what you mean? What's wrong with him?” Allison gets agitated.
“That's exactly it. There is nothing wrong with him. Of course, we're still running more tests, but it looks like his lymph nodes, bone marrow, spleen are all healthy. There is no sign of the cancer.”
Both Allison and Fr. Moses stare at the doctor in disbelief.
Sam’s head is reeling. Daniel was in her dreams yesterday, calling for her help and less than eight hours later she sees him for real. He did indeed need help, but not the kind of help she is able to offer. And now he’s cured? Miraculously? This can’t have anything to do with her, can it?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Two Months Later
Samantha Stone sits opposite Daniel Miller in a coffee shop by the beach at White Rock, British Columbia. Sam recalls in her mind’s eye the picture her mother took of her ten-year-old self mounted on her father’s shoulders by the white rock. This is the exact same spot. Of course the place has changed in the past seventeen years. This coffee shop wasn’t there back then. In fact the entire strip of shops along the beach is a newer construction. The place is unrecognizable, except for the white rock. It’s still there on the beach a few meters away from the pier. Crowds of people walk back and forth along the beach and on the pier enjoying the clear and cool evening.
Sam smiles inwardly at the memory. That was a good day. And so is this one. Any day with Daniel is a good day. Sam spent a lot of her time with Daniel during his recovery. Being jobless and homeless gave her the opportunity to do that. But then it became less about assisting in his recovery and more about enjoying his company; his sense of humor; his sincerity. Although she didn’t know him while he was sick, the stories she heard from Fr. Moses and Allison left a lasting impression on her. During his treatment therapies, he would befriend fellow cancer patients. Many of them went through much pain and suffering, and lost hope. His humor and positive outlook upon life, however, helped them get through some of the tough times. He never told her any of this. In fact whenever she asked him, he would just shrug it off as if it was nothing. Soon Sam realized that the reason she spends so much time with him is more for her sake than his.
Does that make her selfish? She needs hope and he gives it to her. Their relationship grew over these past months. But so far she hasn't told him anything about her past. There is no need to expose him to all this negativity. There is still the distinct possibility she was the reason for all the evil which befell her father. This single thought turned into a dark belief that she is some how cursed. It is, in fact, surprising Daniel wants to be around her at all; a person prone to lapses of depression.
“What are you thinking about?” Daniel asks.
Sam turns her eyes away from the sun setting over the watery horizon and looks at Daniel. She instinctively reaches for his hand and holds it tight, as if it’s her lifeline to a world where she matters; a world where she has an identity.
“Sorry, didn't mean to zone out,” Sam smiles.
“Oh, it’s quiet alright,” Daniel returns her smile. “I know you're thinking about me.”
“Was I now?” Sam chuckles. “So sure of yourself.”
“Nah, it’s not that. You stuck by my side during my recovery, even more than Allison did.”
“Well, I had to be the hero. Don’t you know? Your knight in shining armor. Sweep in and rescue you.”
“Hey, I thought that was my job.”
“Oh,” Sam gasps and puts her hands on her mouth. “I’m sorry. Please, carry me to safety, my prince.” Sam reaches out for him.
“That I shall do, my love.”
Daniels gets up and takes her out stretched hand. Sam starts to get up too, but then Daniel swoops her off her feet and into his arms. He puts one arm under her legs and the other supports her back. Sam lets out a short surprised yelp, then giggles as Daniel walks out of the coffee shop with her in his arms. Several customers look on and smile. Sam feels her face blush. She wraps her arms around Daniel’s shoulders and buries her face in his neck. For a brief moment Sam feels completely safe. All the events of the past months seem distant and carry no significance; not her kidnapping, nor her lost memory, not even her father’s death.
“Okay, I gotta sit,” Daniel says as he takes a seat on a bench facing the beach. Sam is still on his lap. “Sorry, guess, I’m not the strong prince…”
Sam silences him with a long kiss, feeling the warmth of his lips against hers. Her breath mingles with his. And when they part she continues to hug him afraid to speak and ruin this perfect moment in time. This was their first kiss. In fact it has been a long time since she has been romantically involved with someone. No one captured her heart the same way Daniel has. Sam had made a pact with herself a long time ago to save her heart for that special someone. She will not allow anyone to wreck havoc with her emotions. Strange though, it only took two months for her to give her heart to Daniel. Other guys she had known for much longer didn't even come close.
“Daniel,” Sam starts. “I know, I’m not the easiest person to be around…”
“I beg to differ,” Daniel interrupts her. “You’re the best thing that happened to me.”
“Oh, Please, you’re embarrassing me,” Sam jokes. “But don't stop. I'd like to hear more.”
“Well, let's see,” Daniel looks into her eyes. “You're smart. Your eyes, man your eyes, I can get lost in them for days.”
Sam blinks a few times humorously. “Tell me more about my eyes.”
Daniel laughs and then they hug again. Sam relishes this moment for as long as she can in silence. Part of her worries that it won’t last for long.
“Sam,” Daniel finally breaks the silence. “I want you to know…”
He is a bit out of breath, which prompts Sam to look at him concerned.
“I love you,” he blurts out and it takes her breath away. No one had ever told her that before. What should she say? Is it too early to say she loves him back? Maybe she should wait a bit, make sure of her feelings for him first. What if something changes? What if she breaks his heart? What if her past comes back to haunt her? She can’t stand the thought of Daniel getting hurt because of her. Maybe the safest course of action is not to give him an answer. But she already kissed him. Isn’t that enough to show that she loves him? Daniel must have noticed her hesitation.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” Daniel starts. But Sam brings her face close to his. Their foreheads touch. They stay in this position, eyes closed. Living with her dad, the silent type, for most of her life reduced, if not eliminated her ability to express her emotions. Every time she works out the guts to express herself, the words seem to clog up in her mouth, tongue tied.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” Daniel smiles.
Sam hears the disappointment in his voice.
“I know I let my heart guide me sometimes,” Daniel continues. “But I just wanted to let you know, in case I don’t get another chance.”
“Shhh,” Sam interrupts. “Don’t say that.” A moment of silence. “It's me, really. I just need time to figure things out for myself.”
“You know I'm here for you, right?”
“I know.”
They fall silent again.
“I know you think I’m some how responsible for your recovery,” Sam finally breaks the silence. “But I'm not.”
Daniel thinks about that for a moment. “You think I told you I love you because I somehow believe you healed me?”
Sam gets the sudden feeling that this was the wrong thing to say and at the wrong time. But is it what she thinks? Does she believe she’s so undesirable that there has to be some benefit for Daniel in order for him to love her? Daniel isn’t opportunistic.
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Sam manages to say, avoiding Daniel’s eyes.
“I love you because of who you are, not because I think you healed me,” Daniel says. He holds Sam’s chin up and looks into her eyes. “Although, the timing does seem rather strange, don’t you think?”
“Everything in my life is strange right now,” Sam says and then drifts off.
Daniel holds her tighter to reassure her that he won’t leave her side.
“Sam, what are you not telling me?”
Sam opens her mouth to respond. She wants so much to just blurt out everything that happened to her, but it won’t be fair for Daniel; to burden him with all her troubles. She needs to resolve these issues for herself and not involve him.
“I just need sometime,” Sam says.
“I understand.”
Both of them are silent for a moment until they hear someone clearing their throat beside them.
“Daniel,” Allison interrupts their moment. Sam gets off Daniel’s lap in a hurry. Her face burns red from embarrassment. She was never good with this romantic stuff, but she can get to like it.
“Sorry, did I interrupt?” Allison asks, but Sam can tell she isn’t sorry.
“No, it's alright,” Sam smiles. Allison completely ignores her and directs her attention to Daniel.
What did I do to you? Sam thinks. You’ve been treating me like an enemy since I started going out with your brother. Are you jealous of what I have with Daniel? Maybe you feel that I took him away from you after you spent all that time taking care of him. But that wasn’t my intention.
“Did you forget, your doctor's appointment?” Allison asks Daniel.
“Oh, come on, Allison,” Daniel throws his arms up in frustration. “I'm fine. Look at me, I can't be healthier. Why do I have to keep going to the doctor?”
“We have to follow up on your condition Daniel. We don't understand what happened to you yet. We need to continue our analysis.”
“What happened to me is a miracle. Why can't you see that?”
“Because there is no such things as miracles. Everything can be explained scientifically. We just need to probe deeper.”
“What happened to your faith, Allison?”
“I still have faith, just in science.”
“That's not faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen”
“Look I can debate religion and philosophy with you as much as you want, but after we go to the doctor's.”
Sam listens to the back and forth between Allison and Daniel. It’s clear Daniel is a man of faith. She admires his devotion, but she does feel he allows his faith to blind his rational mind. He is willing to accept this “miracle” without understanding further how it happened. What if it isn't all good? What if something worse is going to happen to him? Sam doesn’t want to lose him too.
She hates these gloomy thoughts, but after her recent experiences, she has become a darker person, willing to see the bad more than the good; expecting trouble around every corner. The only bright spot in her life right now is Daniel. He balances her out; pulls her back when she goes too deep into the dark side.
“Maybe Allison is right,” Sam says to Daniel. “There is no harm in going to the doctor.”
“You too?” Daniel says, annoyed. “I’ve been wasting so much time with these doctors. I have a life to live you know?”
“Sam,” Allison turns to Sam. “You’re not helping. This is between me and my brother. So if you please.”
Holy! Sam thinks. What is your problem, lady? I’m trying to help you!
The world dims around Sam with a strange kind of abruptness, as if someone switched off all the lights. A pounding headache follows. It starts in the back of Sam's head, and then travels like searing arrows through out her brain. The pain is so sudden and so strong she can't take her breath and starts to lose her balance.
Daniel's attention is immediately on her as he reaches to steady her. He says something, but his voice is so far away, as if coming from beyond the ocean.
Sam opens her eyes wide, but she can't see anything. Instead, she's propelled into what she can only describe as an intense vision. In her mind's eyes she sees Allison in a university library. That image dissolves into another. A powerful henchman drags Allison out of the library. Then another image of Allison running through a corridor. The images are coming in faster now.
Allison in a warehouse.
Allison typing on a computer.
Allison getting shot.
When Sam sees Allison chest exploding, it is as if she's the one who felt the pain. The breath is knocked out of her and she completely collapses into Daniel's arms.
The world swims in a dim pool of swirling colors for a moment, then everything goes black.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Allison Miller leans back on the kitchen counter at the apartment she shares with Daniel. It’s a small condo with an open concept design. The kitchen opens directly into the living area. She watches Sam lying on the couch. Daniel insisted on bringing her back here. For some reason he felt certain that Sam wouldn’t want to go to the hospital, even though it was the logical thing to do. But since when did he do the logical thing?
There is something off about Sam. The way she showed up out of nowhere. The way she keeps her past a mystery. What is she hiding? And now these blackouts she's having. Is she just trying to score some compassion points with Daniel? Allison doesn't trust Samantha one bit. And she's furious with her brother. How could he allow himself to fall in love with her? What's he thinking? Allison adores her brother, but he can let his heart control his mind sometimes. And now they missed their doctor's appointment because of Samantha.
Sam wakes up in a jolt, disoriented, staring into the distance, at nothing in particular. For a moment Allison thinks Sam lost her sight, but then Sam seems to regain focus. Of course Daniel immediately rushes to her side.
Never taking his eyes off of Sam, Daniel reaches for Sam’s forehead while talking softly. “You don’t feel feverish. Are you alright?”
"I'm okay," Sam smiles.
"We should take you to a doctor just to be sure," Daniel insists.
Sam takes Daniel's hand in her own, "Daniel, seriously, I'm okay."
Why would Samantha not want to go to the doctor? Allison wants Samantha to do some blood works, maybe some DNA testing. In a perfect world Allison would get access to those DNA result and request a verification on Samantha’s identity. She’s sure this will reveal some unexpected results that might just change Daniel’s perception of Sam.
"I have to agree with Daniel," Allison pitches in. "It shouldn't be much of an issue to drop in and do basic tests. You don't even have to wait for a doctor. All these tests are automated now and you get the results right away. If there are any serious issues, then the system books you a doctor's appointment."
Daniel continues to focus on Sam, holding her hand as he nods in agreement.
Trying to ignore Daniel’s insistence on holding Sam’s hand, Allison stares at Sam prompting for an answer. This is an opportunity to know if there is anything weird with her. Although she doesn't believe in miracles, she does recognize Sam's appearance and Daniel's recovery coincide very closely. Also there is still the unexplained glow which she saw when Sam touched Daniel. Was she hallucinating? She was under tremendous stress at the time. Allison concludes that the stress caused her to see something nonexistent.
Sam lets go of Daniel’s hand and pushes herself up into a more comfortable seated position. She looks at Daniel then at Allison and finally smiles.
"If you guys feel that's the best thing to do, then let's go for it," Sam says.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Samantha Stone and Daniel Miller exit Daniel’s apartment building and walk two blocks east. Daniel and Allison live in a relatively safe area of town. But not more than a thirty-minute walk south of their location the scene completely changes. Mean barbed wire fences have recently been erected to seal off a neighborhood which had been taken over by the criminal element. No one knows exactly who controls these areas. It’s likely controlled by several competing gangs. These Shadow Lands are even more divided within. These competing gangs are in continuous conflict amongst each other, but not much else is known since the police dare not enter these territories. Two years ago, when Sam was still on the force, there was only one of these neighborhoods in the entire lower mainland. At the time, the police was trying to enter this territory and maintain law and order. But that resulted in many fatalities. The decision then came down to cordon off the entire area and prevent any one from getting in or out. Since then the nickname “Shadow Land” stuck. In the two years missing from Sam’s memory, things seemed to have gotten a lot worse. These cordoned off neighborhoods are now common place, just another fact of life in the lower mainland. As long as people kept their distance and didn’t get too inquisitive, then they could go on with their lives as normal. But Sam wondered what it was like for the people who lived within these territories.
After a five minute walk, Sam and Daniel enter a modern, well-lit medical clinic. The sign above the door reads “ValleyCare Medical Center”. They head straight for the Automated Medical System. It's a small machine with a circular opening wide enough to fit an arm. It looks like a blood pressure machine.
Sam is actually starting to wonder if the blood tests are going to reveal anything strange about her. Maybe she has a brain tumor or something. First dreaming about Daniel before she meets him and then having an intense vision about Allison getting shot. A brain tumor can explain that, can’t it? Or has she watched too many movies? Come to think of it, she has never been the type of person who remembers her dreams. But lately these dreams have become abnormally vivid. What could that mean? Post traumatic Stress Disorder? In that case, wouldn’t she be having nightmares about her ordeal? She hopes the blood test will show something.
Sam strips down to her tank-top, showing her toned and muscular arms. She sits on a chair in front of the machine and rests her right arm inside the circular opening. A screen in front of her comes to life and a synthetic female voice begins. "Welcome to the automated blood test system. Please relax your arm and press the start button when you're ready.”
Sam looks up at Daniel who smiles at her reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Won’t hurt a bit.”
He’s so cute, Sam thinks as she smiles back at Daniel. It’s so great to have him in my life.
“I’m worried about you. You look like I’m about to get brain surgery.”
Daniel clears his throat and puts on a brave face. “Do it then, soldier.”
“You’re silly,” Sam smiles and taps the green button on the touch screen to her left.
"Commencing blood test," the system informs her.
A small robotic arm equipped with a soft rubber tip extends. The rubber tip comes to rest on her arm. A moment later a ring contracts around her upper arm to expose her vein.
"Please make a fist," the system orders in a firm voice.
Sam obeys.
The robotic arm with the rubber tip moves around in an attempt to locate the vein. It takes only a few seconds to settle on one spot. Sam feels a slight poke. Her blood flows up through a small tube which disappears inside the robotic arm. It only takes a moment and then the test is over. The ring expands releasing Sam's arms.
"Thank you for using the automated blood test system. Your test results will appear in..."
A thirty second countdown starts on the screen.
"That wasn't horrible," Sam says.
"Yeah peace of cake, ain't it?" Daniel says. His voice is timid.
Sam can tell he's not comfortable. Daniel notices her watching him and smiles hesitantly.
"Sorry, it's just this place brings back bad memories. I’ve been in and out of hospitals for the last couple of years. I wouldn't mind not setting foot in one ever again."
How easy it is for Daniel to share his inner most thoughts with her, unlike Sam who hides almost everything from him. It makes her feel guilty, but it’s for his safety.
Sam gets up and puts her jacket on, then hugs Daniel.
"Don't worry. You're okay now. You're not going to relapse."
"You know I was ready to die. I had already made my peace with it, but now that I have another chance, that I have you, I'm afraid I can't face it again. The medications. The pain. My sister's grief. I don't think I can bear it."
"I know," Sam says soothingly and they hug again.
Sam wants to reassure him that the cancer won't return, but she can’t lie to him, because she doesn't know. Life throws people into difficult situations all the time. In her previous life as a detective she had seen good people suffer and bad people get away with the most despicable acts. She senses darkness suffocating her. This attitude will not help Daniel.
"The test results are ready," the system informs them.
Sam and Daniel walk to the screen and look at the results; glucose, electrolytes, enzymes, proteins, blood fats, everything looks perfect. There isn't a single thing wrong with her.
"I'm sorry to disappoint," Sam smiles.
"Why would you say that?" Daniel asks.
"I just felt that Allison wanted to find something more than what's shown here."
"Don't mind her. I know Allison. It'll just take her a bit of time to warm up to you."
"I hope so. I’m afraid I make her uncomfortable."
"We just came out of a tough time. Trust me, she'll love you."
"I'm sure I will love her," Sam smiles as they walk out of the clinic. "By the way, is everything okay with her? No problems at work, school?"
"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, it's nothing," Sam dismisses that whole thing.
"What are you not telling me?" Daniel asks.
"Nothing. It's okay. Don't worry about it."
Daniel appears to want to say something, but stops.
Damn, here I go again, pushing him away. Sam has a sudden fear she will lose him if she continues down that road.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Artificial Intelligence (AI) Program, controlling the Automated Medical System completes its analysis of Samantha Stone's blood. It reports the results and waits for confirmation. On receipt of confirmation, it starts the second phase of the analysis.
The AI program enumerates the steps it must go through. First, perform DNA analysis. Second, compress the results. Third, establish a secure connection with a predetermined IP address. Forth, transfer the results over the secure connection.
It commences with step one. The AI analyzes the DNA for compatibility with a complex and rare genome sequence. If the ethics module of the AI program was still enabled, it would have prompted Samantha stone for permission. But it has been disabled by a user with “root” access.
Analysis is fifty percent complete.
The AI detects an unexpected hardware exception in its Random Access Memory (RAM). This exception is rare, caused by one of two reasons. Cosmic rays hitting the RAM resulting in random bit flips or by faulty Hardware. The Printed Circuit Board (PCB) manufacturing process contains many automated verification to vet out any problems with the printed circuit board. The probability of cosmic rays causing bit flips is astronomical.
The AI detects another exception which causes corruption in the analysis process. Another exception, then another. The AI program can no longer compensate and it crashes.
All data is lost.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
That night the nightmares visit Sam again. She struggles in her sleep watching helplessly as the houses in her neighborhood burn down. Sam bursts through the flames to rescue her father. Just as he is within reach, a wall of fire rises up and separates them. The image of her father dances wildly through the heat. For a second she freezes, then makes her decision and starts to step through the fire. But her father raises his hand commanding her to stop. Soon the fire engulfs him as Sam screams out his name. But he is not in pain, nor does the fire seam to have any effect on him.
One moment Sam is in the house, the next she’s outside. Ashes float down like snow flakes covering her head and face. Not too far away Daniel reaches for her. This time he’s not on a wheelchair. He walks toward her, no longer frail or weak, and not calling for her help, but is on a mission.
Everything happens in slow motion. Daniel points at something behind her. Sam senses danger and starts to turn. A muzzle flash inches form her face, blinds her. The deafening bang makes her ears ring.
Sam sits up in her bed with an abrupt motion, sweat dripping over her eyes. She wipes it away, breathing rapidly, still in the realm between dreams and wakefulness. A few minutes pass until she regains her composure. She uses the familiar surroundings of the small room at the Holy Trinity Church as an anchor to reality.
These nightmares have been invading her mind ever since she came back from the dead. But they aren’t just normal nightmares. There is something about them; something that felt real, vivid, alarming.
The tile floor feels cool to her bare feet as she heads to the small bathroom. In there, she splashes cold water on her face, hoping it will wipe away the effects of the nightmare, but it doesn’t. The mirror reflection looking back at her is wearied and tired, bags under her eyes. What is she going to do with her life? So far she has been doing small chores around the church, cleaning, organizing. In return Fr. Moses makes sure she has access to food and accommodations. He offered to pay her, but it doesn’t feel right taking money from a priest or from the church.
When is she going to do something to get her life back? There is something broken inside of her, defeated, wiped out. Whatever it is, it’s holding her back from doing what is necessary to regain control over her life. This is not her. She’s not one to sit around and do nothing. On the contrary, problems motivate her, push her to find creative solutions, force her to think out of the box. What happened to her, damn it? Instead of courage there is fear; instead of a sound mind, there is confusion; instead of power, weakness. Sam can no longer recognize herself.
Back in the darkness of the room, the digital clock casts a faint glow of the time, “1:04 am”. Sam stares at her cell-phone on the bedside dresser and considers whether to call Daniel. He’s sleeping now, but she can’t bear being alone. After a few moments of hesitation, she calls him. It takes a few moments for him to pick up, sounding sleepy as expected, but when he hears the pleading tone in her voice, he immediately agrees to meet her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Samantha Stone sits in the passenger side of Daniel’s car. She stares at the passing city lights. Her mind keeps repeating the same questions over and over, like a broken record. Who erased her identity? Who killed her father? Is all this related to her investigation into the disappearance of those homeless people? The lack of answers frustrates and angers her. This is only exasperated by her refusal to talk about it.
Then she starts thinking about Daniel. How unfair it must be for him to be with her? Someone unable to commit herself fully to him; unable to open up and share her thoughts. She won’t. Her bad luck will curse him like everyone else who died because of her.
From a distant place, Daniel’s voice echoes through the corners of her mind, bringing her back from her stupor.
“Sorry, did you say something?” Sam turns to Daniel trying to smile and appear as normal as possible given the circumstances. How normal does he think she can be if she called him at one in the morning?
“Just saying that Allison wasn’t happy to see me leave the apartment at this hour,” Daniel repeats. “She’s become very protective of me. Sometimes I wonder who’s the older sibling.”
“It’s nice to have someone who cares about you, I guess.”
Daniel reaches for her hand, but she pulls it away from him. What was that? Now she’s just sending him mixed signals. A day ago she was full of kisses and hugs and now the touch of his hands sends chills through her. What’s going on? Her eyes dart away from him.
“Sorry,” She says as if that will make everything okay. But one other quick glance at the expression on his face tells her that that is a far cry. Sam looks back out of the passenger side window at the dark shadows the thick forest casts in the moon light.
“Sam, what’s going on?” Daniel asks tersely.
“Nothing. I just didn’t feel like being alone.”
“At one am?”
“Maybe this was a bad idea. Just take me back.”
“Is that what you want?”
No. That’s not what I want, Sam thinks. I want to be with you. I want you to look past my anger and see how much I need you to comfort me. But I know I’m being an ass. It’s not your fault.
“I want to go back,” Sam says out loud.
“Fine,” Daniel is angry now. This is the first time she hears anger in his voice. Good for her, she finally did it. Their first fight.
“Sam, I love you,” Daniel continues. “I told you that, but we can’t go on like this. You’re always keeping me away from you. How’s this relationship suppose to work?”
“What relationship?” Sam immediately regrets saying it. Why am I intentionally sabotaging a good thing with Daniel?
“Oh,” Daniel says and falls silent.
A battle rages in Sam’s mind. Part of her wants to tell him the truth. Tell him she meant nothing with these ill-thought comments. But another part is angry. So very angry. Angry at the world. At God. At herself for pushing Daniel away. At Daniel for giving up on her just now. This rage prevents her from speaking, from attempting to rectify the damage she caused.
“It’s good to know where we stand,” Daniel says, as he takes a left at the next street and makes a U-turn.
Sam slams the glove compartment in anger. This is so uncharacteristic of her. Usually, she’s much better at containing her anger, but this is who she is. She keeps her emotions bottled up until they explode.
“Damn it Daniel, what do you want me to say, huh?” Sam’s voice is charged with antagonism.
She regrets her unprovoked attack on Daniel. The words coming out of her mouth are like daggers.
“Nothing I say is going to change the reality, my reality. So how about we just shut up about it already? I’m sorry I ever called you,” Sam shoots out.
Daniel looks at her and their eyes lock. Hers are full of anger and his are full of hurt. It’s as if Sam can see something break deep within his soul. After he declared his love for her a mere day ago, now she’s telling him she hates him; yup that would do it. Again and again, Sam tries to stop herself, but the words coming out of her mouth have a mind of their own.
“Maybe your sister is right,” Sam continues her assault. “We’re not good for each other. We’ll probably end up like one of those couples who bring the worst out of each other.”
“How do you know that?” Daniel counters. “Do you see the future?”
Daniel’s attention locks on Sam. He doesn’t see the animal crossing the road until it’s too late. He slams on the breaks and then a thud.
“What was that?” Sam asks.
Daniel gets out of the car first, followed by Sam. The car’s head lights illuminate the body of a fatally injured fawn lying in the middle of the street. It’s howling in pain, its skin dyed red from the blood, oozing from deep wounds in its torso. Daniel runs to it and checks its injuries. Sam doesn’t move, staring at the dying fawn, frozen, shocked. Strange and confused emotions storm within her.
Daniel looks back at her and his expression says it all. There is nothing they can do to save it. The only thing they can do is end its pain. He walks to the trunk of the car. Sam is still fixated on the fawn. When Daniel is back he has a mean looking hunting knife in his hand.
“We have to put it down,” Daniel says.
“No,” Sam yells. Her alarm makes Daniel snap towards her perplexed.
“I’m a vet Sam. There is nothing we can do for it now.”
“There has to be an emergency animal hospital around here.”
“Closest one is at least twenty minutes away and it’s closed. The fawn is not going to survive.”
“We have to try.”
Sam rushes to the fawn and starts to carry it. The movement causes the animal much pain. Daniel stops her.
“Don’t. We don’t know what kind of injuries it sustained. You’re increasing its pain.”
“We can’t just let it die.”
“Maybe this is the best…”
“No. Would you have wanted us to give up on you when you were dying?”
“That’s not fair Sam.”
“I have seen too many people die. I’m not going to let it die too. You hear me? I’m not going to let it die,” Sam is emotional. Her eyes are tearing up.
“Okay,” Daniel tries to calm her down. “Okay. We’ll try our best.”
Daniel places the knife on the hood of the car and starts to the forest.
“Where are you going?” Sam asks alarmed, not wanting to be alone.
“I’m just going to go find some sticks to brace it’s neck and back.”
Daniel disappears in the darkness of the forest, and Sam turns her attention to the dying fawn. She runs her hands over its head, trying to some how ease its pain. She starts to sing a melody she learned from her father a long time ago.
At the end of the rushing stream of time.
When the keepers of the house shall tremble.
And the daughter of music are distant with no rhyme.
I will wait on your promises with faith and sound mind.
Your breath to give me life and strength.
To be dispensed to those that have no might.
For your strength will renew every friend.
We shall mount up with wings as eagles and soar.
We shall run and not be weary.
We shall walk and not faint.
The fawn howls, gripped in the pangs of death. Sam is helpless and distraught because of the misery she’s witnessing.
What am I doing? Sam thinks. What am I hoping to accomplish by prolonging its anguish? I’m such a selfish person. All that so I don’t relive my dad’s death over again? Will its suffering ease my own?
Sam grabs Daniel’s hunting knife off the hood of the car and kneels back beside the fawn. She looks into its large black eyes and sees her own pain reflected back at her. Holding its head down, Sam digs the knife into its neck and twists it. Within brief moments the howls are forever silenced. Sam lets go of the knife and breaks down into tears.
She doesn’t know how long she stayed there, crying for her dad, for her mom, for all those whom she had lost. Soon she feels Daniel’s arms wrap around her and hold her tight. She hugs him back.
“I should’ve been there for my dad, to comfort him, but I wasn’t. I loved that man so much. He was my only family and now I’m an orphan… I’m completely alone.”
“You have me.”
They stay in each other’s embrace for a long time, until they simultaneously decide it’s time to bury the fawn.
Daniel uses a small shovel he keeps in the trunk of his car to dig a hole in the soft ground a few meters into the forest. A flash light is their only source of illumination. They lay the fawn into the hole and cover it with dirt. The chirping of birds, the rustling of the trees and the occasional sound of small animals disturbing the bushes are the only signs of life.
Back in the car, Daniel and Sam sit in silence.
“Tell me about your dad,” Daniel’s soft voice booms in the stillness of the car.
Sam pulls out her phone and shows Daniel the picture of her young self mounted on her dad’s shoulders.
“That’s him,” she says. “What can I say? He lived his life for his family; for me. Did you know he was a senior mechanical engineer at a car manufacturing company back in Romania? He was making a good living and we were comfortable. But he realized I would have better opportunities here, so he packed our bags and moved us to Vancouver. It’s funny, even though he couldn’t find an engineering job and had to work as a machinist in some metal factory, the man never complained. Not once. Even when he was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis. Never complained.” Sam falls silent as she recalls a memory. “When I was young… I don’t know, maybe five years old. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I used to love holding his pinkie finger. My whole hand fit around it. Whenever we went out I wouldn’t let go of him, made me feel good. Like I was safe. Then I grew up and I couldn’t do that anymore. My hands were too big. Man, I miss those days.” She wipes a tear rolling down her cheek. “You can blame him for my lack of emotional expression. You know, he never told me once that he loved me. But he didn’t have to. I knew he loved me. I could see it in his eyes, when I used to help him move around and perform simple daily tasks. With his lung fibrosis any little bit of physical exertion made him really tired, really quickly. So I had to help him perform even the simplest of tasks. Whenever, I did, I could tell…” Sam trails off.
“That he loved you?”
Sam shakes her head and when she starts talking again, it’s clear she’s choking back tears.
“No. He didn’t want me to be preoccupied with him. He wanted me to go live my life, maybe find a nice boy. But he knew I would never do it, not while he needed my help. He never thought of himself, always of me.”
Daniel reaches for Sam’s hand hesitantly, but this time she meets him half way, and holds his hand tight.
“I have have an idea,” Daniel says as he turns on the ignition.
“What?” Sam wipes the tears off her face.
“Oh, you wait and see.”
Daniel drives to White Rock beach and parks on the empty street.
“Come on,” he tells Sam as they both get out of the car.
“Where are we going?” Sam asks.
“Why do you have to ask so many questions. Just have faith.”
“Alright, alright,” Sam says as Daniel holds her hand and pulls her behind him. They run down a ramp to the sandy beach, where the white rock is. The crashing waves send a cool mist into the air. Daniel stops in front of the white rock.
“Here, I’ll help you up,” he tells Sam.
“Up where?”
“Every kid I know wants to sit on top of this. I bet that's what you wanted in that picture. So let's do it.”
“Serious?”
“Yeah, serious.”
“Okay.”
Daniel criss-crosses his fingers and Sam puts her foot on them, then she climbs up on his shoulders. They take a moment to get their balance, laughing at their attempts.
“Keep still,” Sam says as she makes a couple of attempts to get a foothold onto some crevices in the rock.
“I’m trying. You’re not as light as you look.”
“Hey!”
“I mean that in the nicest way possible.”
“Right!”
Finally, Sam is able to propel herself to the top. She lies flat on her tummy and extends a hand to Daniel. “Grab hold of my hand; I’ll help you up.”
Daniel drags a log and stands on it, giving him some elevation. He jumps and grabs hold of her hand. Sam is stronger than she looks. She is able to pull him up enough so he can get a foot hold and climb up as well.
They both sit on top of the rock, watching the moon light does a dazzling dance on the surface of the ocean as the waves crash on the sands of the shore and retreat back into the sea.
Sam scoots over and presses her body against Daniel’s. He in turn wraps his arm around her and pulls her close to him. She rests her head on his shoulder.
“Thanks,” Sam finally says.
Daniel kisses her forehead. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Both of them stay there, enjoying each other’s company in silence until the sun rises.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Samantha Stone and Daniel Miller stand in the middle of an open area in Mainland University. In front of them is a formidable concrete building with the words “University Library” on the entrance. Behind them is another complex of concrete buildings, which house the registrar office, theater, restaurants and several lecture halls. They stand in what Mainland students call “The Quad”.
It’s been three weeks since Sam was finally able to let Daniel into her life at least in part. Since then she told him about her recurring nightmares, but still didn’t reveal the entire truth. How can she tell him she had a dream of his sister getting shot? She doesn’t need to burden him with these details. And her near incineration experience is of course out of the question.
“Let’s head inside,” Daniel says.
Inside the Library they roam the different levels until they get to the fourth floor. Rows upon rows of bookshelves line the floor. Along the edge of the wall, there are several desks, used by students who want a quiet place to study. On Daniel’s advice, Sam strolls through the rows of bookshelves. The idea is to search for something she can associate with her dream. It was Daniel's idea. Once he found out about Sam’s dream of Allison in a library, he automatically envisioned the university library, since Allison spends most of her time studying here.
“Anything familiar?” Daniel asks.
Sam looks around and stops in a particular row of science books. The books on the top rows of the left shelve all have yellow covers, and some on the bottom rows have red covers, others blue. The right shelve is color coded in a similar pattern.
“This is it,” Sam says and walks to the middle of the row. She looks at the books, examining them. “This is where she was standing.” She picks up a book from one of the shelves and looks through it. It’s a neuroscience textbook. Daniel walks to her.
“You must be a genius, dreaming in color. So that’s all you saw. Just her standing here? Reading a book? Doesn’t sound terribly interesting.”
“Yeah,” Sam says after a moment’s hesitation.
“What are you hiding?”
“Nothing. That’s all I saw.”
Daniel looks at her in disbelief.
“I thought we agreed to be honest with each other?” He says.
“Daniel, I said that’s all I remember,” Sam says a little too harshly for her own liking, then she smooths out her tone. “Sorry, just, please try not to push me too much. I’m still hanging on by a thread.”
“Understood,” Daniel says, a bit upset.
Sam appreciates everything Daniel has been doing for her, but sometimes he can push her a bit too far. Maybe she needs some pushing though. A closed up person like herself needs to be nudged out of her emotional comfort zone once in a while.
“Let’s go get some lunch,” Daniel suggests, and Sam nods.
As they walk out, they run into Allison.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“Umm, we were…” Daniel stutters. Sam knows he can never lie to his sister, or to anyone. This is one of the characteristics she loves about him, his honesty.
“He was just helping me find some information I was looking for,” Sam says.
Allison gives her a look of disdain.
Oh, Allison, Sam think. If you only knew that I’m trying to lookout for you, you wouldn’t be dealing with me like that.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you around,” Allison says and walks away.
“She still doesn’t like me,” Sam says.
“Allison just doesn’t do well with things she doesn’t understand.”
“What doesn’t she understand?” Sam asks as they climb down the stairs to the first level.
“Oh, come on Sam, you really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“We don’t know anything about you, Sam. We don’t know where you came from, why you live at the church, where you used to work. She’s just curious why you haven’t told us any of that. Especially since we’ve been together for a while now.”
They exit the library into the cool winter air and head to the car.
“What about you?” Sam asks.
“I think I made my position abundantly clear.”
They make it to the underground parking.
Stabbing pains start in the back of her head and shoot like arrows throughout her brain. Sam is transported into another future glimpse. She is in the underground parking lot. In fact the exact same location she is now. It’s as if she’s seeing an event that is about to take place. Daniel is a few steps ahead of her. He looks back and says something as he reaches for his keys. That’s when a car comes speeding through and plows him down. Sam is thrust back to reality, disoriented.
“Oh come on,” Daniel says as he starts to cross to the other side of the parking lot where his car is. “I can’t believe they gave me a ticket.”
Sam hears the screeching of an oncoming car speeding towards them. It rounds a corner and heads for Daniel. The engine’s roar attracts his attention and he stops in the middle of the parking lot, like a deer stuck in headlights. The driver is busy looking down at his phone. Sam’s trained instincts take over and she dives for Daniel. They both land on the hard concrete ground and roll out of the way, just in time to avoid a fatal accident.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” Sam yells at the driver as he rounds another corner and disappears from sight.
“Wow, you got some quick reactions. How did you see that coming?” Daniel asks.
Sam hesitates.
“Sam?”
“I think I saw it before it happened,” Sam admits.
“What?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sam and Daniel sit at a coffee shop. Daniel takes a bite from his BLT sandwich. Sam hasn’t touched hers.
“What do you think it means?” Sam asks Daniel.
Daniel swallows his food. “Well, it could just be a coincidence I guess.”
“You don’t sound too convinced of that.”
“Well you tell me. Do you think you actually saw the future?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know. It’s just crazy.”
“But you did see the car hitting me.”
Sam nods.
“And if you hadn’t my sister would be planning my funeral right now.”
Sam is uncomfortable at the thought of Daniel’s death. Daniel zones out.
“What is it?” Sam asks.
“Well, let’s look at the facts for a second,” Daniel leans closer to her. “I get cured from my cancer the moment I meet you. You tell me that you saw me in your dreams, before we even met each other. And you say you had a vision or a dream about my sister, although I still think you’re not telling me the whole truth, but I’ll let that go for now. And now you saved me from a pretty awful way to go. These are just way too many coincidences, to be coincidences.”
“What are you getting at?”
“How’s your spiritual life Sam?”
“Spiritual life?”
“Your relationship with God, the almighty, Jesus Christ.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“I guess you don’t have one. Maybe you’re angry at God for some reason. You think he has abandoned you?”
“Something like that. If God really loved us and cared for us, why do you think we suffer so much? Something is not adding up for me.”
“Well, here is my theory. You’re a prophet.”
“Um, a prophet? I just told you I don’t think God cares and you think I’m a prophet?”
“You believe He cares, Sam. Be honest with yourself. You’re just angry at him, maybe because he let your dad die, maybe for other reasons you haven’t told me, but you believe in him. And I think he’s giving you an opportunity to figure things out.”
“Daniel, I know you’re a pretty religious guy, but there has to be a more reasonable explanation.”
“A scientific one, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure, there could be. But that’s not going to explain why you have these abilities. Science might show you some evidence of how you got these abilities. But one thing science will never answer is why you got it when you did. Or why we met on that day at the church. Don’t you see? If you were only a few days late, I could’ve been dead. So we can choke all this timing to coincidence, which I don’t like, or we’ll have to attribute it to God. I like the latter better. Makes more sense to me.”
“Okay, fine, let’s say you’re somehow right. Why me? Why now?”
“That’s the million-dollar question Sam. Pray about it.”
“I tried that before. It doesn’t work.”
“You prayed for your dad and he didn’t get well?”
Sam avoids Daniel’s eyes. He seems to know her all too well.
“Sam, how long are we going to live? Seventy? A hundred and twenty years? Don’t you see we’re all going to die? This is the nature of this life. Everything gets old, degrades and dies. Nothing is forever. Even the whole universe will die some day. What will happen after we die? That should be the important question.”
“So we shouldn’t worry about what happens now? About our happiness or other’s well being?”
“Of course we should. In fact, we are called to be the light of the world. We have a responsibility to do as much good as possible. But it’s not because we’re waiting for a reward or for some payback or for someone to stroke our egos. We do good because of the new nature given to us by God through baptism. It’s who we’ve become.”
“I hate to break it to you, but Christians are not the only ones who do good.”
“I never said we are. Of course we’re united with humanity in the goal of making the world a better place. But at the end of the day, we have to realize that our hope is not of this world. We shouldn’t labor as if this world is the end of everything. Man that would be one depressing thought. Think about it. Civilizations rise and fall. We just have short life spans. That's why that truth doesn't hit home for many of us. Our goal should not be to do good to society only.”
“I don't buy that. We are able to sit and have this conversation because we live in a society. Imagine if everyone had to fend for themselves. It'd be hell.”
“And their lies the fundamental difference between Christianity and everything else. Christ paid the price for the human soul with his blood. This gives each human soul infinite value. Not because of human nature, but because of Christ's nature. Don't you see? If we see the true value in every person we meet, the world will be a way better place. Why are there wars? Famines? Why are we not satisfied? Depressed? Never content with what we have? It's because we think some people are worth more than others. It’s because we compare ourselves with others, and say they are better than we are for this reason or for that reason. They have more money, more fame, more brains. God doesn’t value us based on any of this stuff. He loves us regardless of what we own, what we can do, whatever. If we do the same. If we give the human individual this type of value, we will improve the human condition and make societies better. The other way around will neither make the human condition better, nor society better.”
“So you’re saying that by doing good, we buy favor in the sight of God?”
“No, not at all. We will never measure up to God’s standard. The only way we can be accepted in his sight is through the grace given to us through Jesus Christ. But that doesn’t deny the fact that we should behave the same as Jesus behaved. He didn’t cease from doing good and neither should we.”
“What does that have to do with these dreams or visions I’m having?”
“Everything. You saved me today, but eventually I’m going to die. Fifty or sixty years from now. Today you gave me the opportunity to reflect on the inevitable. You gave me an opportunity to put my life right with God.”
“Come on Daniel, like you needed that.”
“I guess I’m going to have to confess to you. Since I was healed I felt on top of the world. Nothing can hurt me. I thought I can do everything on my own.”
“So?”
“So, I didn’t thank God who gave me this opportunity. But now that I faced death again, I remembered my life is not going to last forever. I have to be ready for the day I die. You helped me remember that.”
“You’re saying the purpose of these abilities, if they indeed are abilities, is to give people a chance to what? To reflect on God’s work in their life?”
“Sam, I can’t tell you that. You have to find out for yourself.” Daniel reaches for her hands and holds them tight. “But one piece of advice, put your anger behind you, and have faith in God.”
Sam thinks on that for a moment. “It’s not that easy to put my anger behind me. It’s an accumulation of many things that have happened in my life.”
“It’s the hardest thing, but the easiest thing ever.”
“You’re speaking in riddles.”
“It’s the hardest thing if you try to do it on your own, because we were not created to live on our own. You can see that by the need we have to love others and be loved by others. But our greatest need is to be loved by God, because His love is what gives us purpose. It never changes. It’s constant. We can measure ourselves by it. Everyone else changes. If we rely on others or even ourselves for our self worth we will always come out wanting. But God’s constant love is what truly makes us whole. If you can accept that, everything else will be easy peasy.”
Sam smiles. “I can’t say I’m a hundred percent convinced, but it certainly is food for thought.”
“That’s all I can offer.” Daniel gives her hand a gentle tap as he sits back in his chair. “Are you going to be able to drive me to the airport tomorrow?”
“Yeah for sure. How long are you gone for?”
“A week.” Daniel pauses. “I’ll miss you.”
Sam feels her cheeks blush.
“You don’t have to…” Daniel starts.
“I’ll miss you too,” Sam cuts him off.
“But of course you will. You don’t have to tell me.”
They share a laugh.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It’s been a long day for Allison. She’s running behind on her thesis. The entire day consisted of reading articles, writing computer programs and working out complex mathematical equations. She has no more energy left after a twelve-hour day. Allison walks to her car, shoulders slumped over, alone in a wide and empty parking lot. The only source of illumination is a distant lamp post. Budgetary constraints force the university to reduce its electrical usage so parking lot lights are turned off after ten at night.
Allison gets in her car and holds the steering wheel with both hands. The steering wheel emits a dim blue glow where her hands are.
"Hello, Allison," the car says. "Where would you like to go today?"
"Home."
"Plotting route to Home."
Graphics appear on the top left corner of the front windshield, as the car calculates the route. It only takes a second for the route to be ready.
"Go," Allison says.
The car's engine automatically starts up and the autopilot takes control of the car. It slips smoothly out of its parking spot and heads toward Allison's destination.
"Technology these days, eh?"
Allison snaps back in shock. A man in his mid twenties, brownish hair, blue eyes, elegantly dressed in a three piece suite, sits cross legged in the back seat, pointing a gun at her.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Fear grips Allison’s heart.
"Well, to collect of course. Did you think we gave you all this money just cause you asked? You're smarter than that."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sam sits on her desk at UltraMed Research Corp. She works as an assistant secretary. It's a job that Daniel helped her get. It's not a glamorous job, but it beats being the janitor at the Holy Trinity Church. Of course before she could work she had to get her identity recreated. This part she hadn't shared with Daniel. He wouldn't understand her methods.
In her years as a police detective she had made some interesting connections. One of these connections was an informant named Kamel, who was also an expert forger. Sam realized at the time that it was better in the long run to let the smaller fish go in order to catch the bigger ones. Kamel was such a small fish. Sam let him go in return for precious information, which led to the capture of high profile human traffickers. Kamel was in her debt, and a month ago she went to collect.
Kamel was quite surprised to see her. The word on the streets was that she was dead. No one knew any details. All Kamel knew was that she disappeared off the face of the earth. Shortly after, someone wiped clean all her personal data. They erased her existence from all databases in the country. Anyone with the power to pull off that was not someone to reckon with.
Sam knew that it was not the time to start an investigation into her own disappearance. The first step was to recreate a semblance of a normal life. Deep down she needed to feel normal. Without this normal life she felt out of balance, insecure. Even though she had Daniel in her life, she still needed to be a legal citizen in this country. Even if it meant she would have to resort to some "creative" methods to make it happen.
Kamel helped her create her new identity. It wasn't a deep one. If she was arrested or put under investigation they would discover the truth pretty quickly and that requires her to fly under the radar, get a low profile job, and stay out of trouble. That's what she’s been doing. She's now working a mind numbing job; a paper pusher. But she was starting to get this feeling of normalcy again. It felt good to belong in society.
Little does she know that this feeling of normalcy wasn't going to last.
It's the end of the day. The office is silent and the lights dim to conserve energy. Sam sits back in her desk chair. She has no place to go. Daniel is traveling to visit a few relatives. The only place left for her to go, is back to the small room she rents out of Fr. Moses' church. Another option is to eat out. But she doesn’t feel like eating alone, might as well wait until Daniel comes back.
Sam hears movement in a nearby office. At first it seems like the occupant of the office is back. But then she hears someone opening drawers and going through their content. And if she's not mistaken, there is an attempt to open a locked cupboard. This is suspicious. She reaches for her bag and takes out a baton. She doesn't go any where without it. A gun would be preferred, but that would put her on the radar. A baton is the next best thing. She can use it to subdue an opponent larger and stronger than she.
She heads toward the noise; baton collapsed but ready to be extended at the first sign of danger. The noise comes from Professor Sherman's office. The professor's reputation is well known. He is the top researcher at the company; responsible for sensitive and often top secret research projects. The Department of National Defense funds some of these projects. So it follows, whoever is inside is after his research. But would he keep his research in his office? Unlikely.
The noise in the office stops. They know she's here.
Sam decides to play along. She knocks on the door.
"Professor," She calls. "I have the data you asked me to collect."
No answer.
She unlocks the door and swings it open, gripping her baton tighter.
No one is inside. There is another door into the office. The intruders must have exited through that one. She heads through it and walks out into a corridor. To her left is a conference room and the loading bay is straight ahead. The loading bay's large double doors are locked. They have circular built in windows. The light hit the glass at just the right angle making them partially reflective. Sam sees the reflection of the corridor behind her.
Where did the intruder go? Sam wonders. Then she sees the reflection of a large guy sneaking up behind her, a knife in hand.
He attacks.
Sam's reaction is swift. She steps aside avoiding the knife stab and with a quick motion up she extends the baton. The intruder stabs at her again. Sam is already on the move, side stepping the stab and then brings the baton smashing down on the assailant's forearm. He groans in pain as the knife slips out of his hand.
"A feisty girl, eh?", the man says as he weighs his opponent.
Sam is already anticipating his next move, positioning herself in the narrow corridor to maximize her defense and counter attack potential. The man comes at her with a kick, but she nails him in the back of the knee with her baton. He goes down and Sam moves behind him putting him in a stranglehold using her baton to press down on his throat. The man chokes.
"What are you doing here?" Sam demands.
The man struggles against her baton, but that only makes it more difficult for him to breath.
However, Sam misjudges the situation. Her attention is focused on the man and doesn't notice his partner. A slim woman, blond hair, blue eyes approaches her from behind.
The woman jabs a taser indecisively at Sam's neck delivering an incomplete electrical charge. It’s enough to knock Sam off her feat, but not enough to take her out completely.
The intruder free from the stranglehold, scrambles to his feet and picks up his knife with the intent to kill. But his partner intervenes and stops him.
"We're not killing anyone," the woman says, "let's get outta here."
Sam recognizes the woman's voice. It's Allison. She tries to focus, to reach for her, to try and stop her, but it's too late. Allison and the other intruder are gone.
Sam blacks out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
What is she doing? How can she allow herself to get involved with these people. They almost murdered a person in cold blood today. And not just any person; Samantha. Although Allison Miller is not a fan of Sam, she knows how much she means to her brother, and that’s enough for her to try and tolerate Sam. Did Samantha recognize her? Allison couldn't tell. This is just getting worse and worse. What if she tells Daniel? He'll be disappointed in her. But she did all this for him. If he only knew.
This flurry of thoughts rampages through her mind as she sits in the car with Jared, the other culprit in the UltraMed break in.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Jared shouts.
"What was I thinking? You almost killed Sam."
"You know her?"
Revealing this bit of information was a bad idea.
"You know her?" Jared repeats. "Oh, this is gonna get bad. I'm gonna tell Kylan. There is no way I'm taking the rap for this. No way."
"Shut up. Just shut up," Allison screams.
"I told them I could do this alone, but they had to send you."
Jared parks his car in a small clearing on an abandoned road.
"Why did you stop?" Allison asks, worried.
"This is our rendezvous point with Kylan," Jared says and then looks at Allison tauntingly. "Oh, I wouldn't want to be you. You're fucked."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think we're joking here? Do you think this is all for fun? We're talking about a ton of money on the line here. Kylan ain't forgiving when it comes to money"
Allison starts to panic and tries to exit the car, but the doors are locked.
"You stupid whore. You think you can run away from this. You can't."
Allison starts to cry. That's the only thing she can do now. She made a terrible mistake and now she has to pay for it.
An SUV approaches and parks opposite them.
"Get out," Jared ordered.
Allison and Jared get out of the car. Allison's legs tremble from fear. She never, not for a moment, thought that this is the way her life is going to end.
Two big guys get out of the SUV. One of them Allison recognizes immediately. He's the handsome, well dressed guy who sneaked into her car earlier. The second man, is tall, muscular and vicious looking.
The vicious man, opens the SUV’s back door and an aristocratic woman steps out. Tall, black hair, beautiful, dressed in black pants and a long black jacket. The jacket makes her look like a character out of the Matrix. The trio walk toward Allison and Jared and stop a few feet away.
The woman examines them. She has no expression on her face, no anger, nothing. Just a blank stare. Allison's heart sinks at the sight of her. This must be Kylan. The vibe Kylan gives off is one Allison never experienced before. A hardened criminal vibe. One willing to kill with no remorse.
"Did you get what we want?" Kylan asks. Her voice smooth, slight hint of a French accent.
"I was about to Kylan. But this whore screwed everything up. If you just sent me, I could've gotten the information you wanted."
Kylan looks at Allison. Again, this blank stare. Eyes void of any emotions.
Kylan extends her hand to the vicious guy, and he gives her his gun.
Allison tenses up, panicking. She thinks about running, but her legs won't obey her.
Kylan aims the gun at Allison. Allison closes her eyes tight. This is it. This is how her life ends.
A gun shot.
Is this what death feels like? Nothingness?
Allison opens her eyes. She's still alive, but Jared is a corpse, collapsed on the ground, blood oozing from a bullet hole in his head. Allison topples to her knees and throws up.
"Next bullet, has your name on it," Kylan says to Allison as she approaches her.
She grabs her hair and pulls her head back.
"The only reason you're alive is because I need you to get the correct research files from UltraMed. But don't mistake my need for weakness. Do you understand?"
Allison nods.
"We'll be in touch."
Kylan lets her go and gets back into the car. Allison is dizzy.
Kylan's car roars away.
Allison turns and stares at Jared’s lifeless body. His eyes wide open in a final expression of surprise, empty, staring at nothing. She needs to get out of here. Now.
Allison forces herself to run away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Samantha Stone sits in the pews at the Holy Trinity Church. She looks up at the iconostasis. It's beautiful isn't it? In the centre is a painting of Jesus' last super, and flanking it on each side are portraits of his disciples. Below are other paintings of notable saints in the Church, including St. Mary and St. George. The architectural design gives the sense that these saints are still part of the church community. Even though they are no longer alive on earth, the Church believes they are alive in Heaven. The early founders of the Church referred to the heavenly church as the Victorious Church. The Struggling Church is the term given to the Church on Earth.
Sam reads the names of the saints written on the bottom right corner of each of the paintings. She tries to recall their stories; some she knows others she doesn't. But one thing common to all of them is their courage in the face of oppression and persecution. They stood for the truth.
Does she have the courage to do the same? Should she face Allison and try to find out what she got herself into? Try to help her out of her troubles? The risk is exposing herself to the world. What if the people who put her on that incineration track find out about her and decide to come after her. On the one hand she has herself to worry about and on the other she knows the right thing to do is to help Allison.
"Lost in thought?"
Fr. Moses startles Sam, who was indeed lost in thought. So much so that she didn't notice his approach. A fact she rebukes herself over. She should never let herself lose touch with her surroundings again. Bad things follow.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Fr. Moses apologizes. "Would you rather be alone?"
"No, it's okay," Sam says. "I wouldn't mind some company."
Fr. Moses takes a seat beside her.
"How are you finding the new job?" Fr. Moses asks.
"I thought it would be straight forward, but it has its unique challenges," Sam answers and pauses for a moment. "What is faith, father?"
"Well, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."
"I’ve read this bible verse too. But I fail to see how it helps in life. When you're under pressure and everything is lined up against you. What is faith going to do? How is it going to help? It won’t change the situation you’re in. It will not solve your problems. I have to do that. I have to fight to make things right."
Fr. Moses appears to think about her argument. Sam knows she's right. She has been around and seen the darkness in the human soul. She has seen the suffering, not in the world, but only in her small part of the city and it’s overwhelming. So much suffering that no amount of faith can fix. What is faith good for then?
"Are we talking about faith in God?" Fr. Moses asks.
"Sure, we can start with that."
"Dare I say, faith is an essential part of life. One we can not live without. In fact, I believe without it, life will be even more unbearable than you perceive it to be."
Sam looks at him with lack of understanding.
"You have faith in the engineers who constructed the Portman Bridge. Right? You don't fear it will collapse when you cross it. Do you? Have you met those engineers? Or the construction workers? No. You take it on faith. When you go to the doctor and he prescribes you some medicine, you take it on faith that he knows what he's talking about. You have faith in the system, which put him in his position. If we don't have faith, we'll be paranoid. I think the problem manifests itself when we talk about faith in God. Seems like God always takes the brunt of our criticism."
"Shouldn't he?" Sam asks passionately. "Christianity claims he made this world from scratch. He created humanity, yet it's okay for him to leave humanity tear at each other; hurt, maim, kill. Shouldn't he answer for the crimes he is allowing to take place."
Fr. Moses looks at her. His eyes thoughtful and compassionate. He takes his time answering.
Maybe this was too much to lay on a man Sam hardly knows. Her doubts and her fears; her struggle with her faith and her reality. Why should she bother this man with her burden?
"We can discuss the problem of pain in the world, if you'd like," Fr. Moses finally says. "But is this what you want? Do you want to get into a philosophical discussion, or do you want to share what is bothering you. What's making you angry at God?"
The priest's words hit Sam like an on coming truck. What is really bothering her? Is she translating some deeper fears and insecurities into anger toward God? Just like Daniel said?
Sam decides that her thoughts are not crystallized enough to continue the discussion. There is too much confusion and emotional upheaval from the recent events in her life. Any discussion now will not lead to an informed conclusion.
"Sorry to bother you father," Sam says as she gets up. "But maybe it's better if I sort through these thoughts on my own."
Sam smiles at Fr. Moses and walks away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sam doesn't know how long she has been asleep for, but she wakes up to the sound of a distant laugh. It's 2:00 am. Who's at church this late? She walks out of her room and heads in the direction of the argument. One of the voices is Fr. Moses’.
"You're doing pretty okay," another man's voice says, and laughs a crazy laugh. "You're doing pretty okay, but a priest? I never thought you'd wind up findin’ Jesus."
"What do you want?" Fr. Moses says sounding as if he is running out of patience.
"I want my cut. Piece of the pie as it were. You planning to eat it all yourself?"
"What pie? This isn't a scam. It's entirely legit," Fr. Moses says. Anger creeps into his tone.
"I don't care what this is, but I spent enough time behind bars. I don't intend to come out with jack. You better cough up the seventy grand you owe me. You owe me. Or else I'll blow whatever kinda hustle you've got goin' on here. You remember that old place? You remember that old place. Meet me there tomorrow at midnight. Comprende?"
What is this? Sam thinks. Who is this Fr. Moses? A priest? Cause it sounds like he is a criminal. What's he up to? This is a new low for priests.
Sam feels the heat of anger boil up. All the negative experiences she had with clergy in the past bubble to the surface. They are all the same, different levels of deceit, but deceit non the less.
Sam hears the other man get up.
"Gamil," Fr. Moses says. His voice betraying an anger not common to a man who gave up the world for the service of priesthood. "You're making a mistake messin’ with me."
"Listen, Ben," Gamil says. "You still remember that name don't you? If I were you, I wouldn't think that putting on this black costume and wearing a cross round your neck, gives you some legitimacy in society. You'd be mistaken. Don't forget who you are.”
Gamil storms out. Sam hides in the darkness of the corridor as Gamil passes by, unable to get a good look at him.
Sam stands there fuming. Why is she so angry? Simple, this person deceived her. Made her think he’s righteous. But in reality he is yet another criminal. Why does trouble always follow her? She reminds herself that this is not her problem. She's not here to get involved in the trouble others stir up. There are enough issues for her to deal with. But one thing is now clear. She needs to find another accommodation and put as much distance between her and that priest, that impostor, before she gets sucked into whatever this is. Sam has no willingness to get pulled into a game of deception.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Allison enters her apartment at four o'clock in the morning. She's sweating and completely worn out from running all the way home; close to a twenty kilometer run. There is no way out for her now. She's way too involved with these people.
Two years ago when the doctors diagnosed Daniel with cancer, Allison researched alternative treatments and found one. But it wasn't covered under their medical insurance and the cost was prohibitive. Banks would not loan her the amount because of her existing student loan debt and her family would not help with any of the cost either as they had no faith in any alternative medicine. She groveled and begged to everyone she knew without Daniel’s knowledge. There was no way he was going to agree to her getting into debt on his account. Allison decided to get creative finding finances for this treatment.
After much investigation and surfing the dark net, she ran into a group which was willing to give her the loan. She filled out a form which detailed her life, her area of study, her past relationships, her family and their work statuses. A few days after she gave them the information they requested they informed her that her application for a loan had been approved. But the loan was not free. They were not looking for interest on the loan rather all they said is that Allison would owe them a favor that they made very clear would be collected later on. They wouldn't tell her what kind of favor it was, but Allison was desperate enough that she didn't care.
They completed the transaction through a set of anonymous communications. The drop location. The time. The money. Everything went down exactly as they ordered.
Of course the alternative treatment didn't end up making a difference in her brother's case. And after two years had passed, she had completely forgotten about the favor she owed. That is until she got that ominous visit a couple of days ago. From then on, things went down hill faster than she could keep up.
Allison stands in the darkness panting, panicking, not only from physical exhaustion but from mental exhaustion as well. All the scenarios she comes up with in her mind end in her tragic death. And that's the positive outcome. The other end of the spectrum is that harm will come to her brother, something she would never forgive herself for.
A sudden sense she isn't alone in the apartment hits her. She reaches for the light switch. But before she could turn it on, a hand reaches out from the darkness and grabs a hold of hers. She lets out a scream of fear and surprise. The assailant keeps a firm grip on her hand, preventing her from wiggling free.
“Now, now… there ain’t no reason to fear the dark,” the man holding Allison’s hand says, then turns on the light.
The sudden light blinds Allison. It takes a moment for her eyes to grow accustomed to the brightness.
“Who are you? What do you want?” She asks panicked.
The man lets go of her hand.
“Oh my, my, why are you so scared? I ain’t the bad guy,” the man says as he touches her face and runs his hand down her cheek, all the way to her breast.
At his touch Allison backs up, but by that time the man has her cornered, blocking her only exit.
“Listen, take whatever you want. Just, just, leave me alone!”
“I ain’t here to take. I’m here to give.”
The man, who’s a foot taller than she and wears a bandanna, presses his body against hers. He leans forward until his cheek touches hers. She trembles.
“Please, don’t,” her voice not louder than a whisper. His breath stinks of smoke and liquor.
“You know, usually, I don’t do favors unless there is an incentive for me,” the man whispers in her ears. “And in your case, oh, I just love the feel of your body. The smell of your hair.”
He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her close to him. She can feel his penis harden. A wave of nausea overwhelm her.
Allison has heard of girls getting raped, but she never thought she would be one of them. She always thought she would be able to fight her assailant off, but now fear paralyzes her. Her mind races, and her eyes dart here and there desperately seeking anything to use as a weapon. Then the man pulls away from her. Just like that.
“But I owe your daddy a life.” He throws a package at Allison. It hits her chest and then tumbles to the floor. “Think fast.”
Allison looks at her would be assailant in disbelief. Her father. Her father has been dead for five years. How does he know her father?
“My father?” Allison manages to get out the question.
“Ah, yeah, ya didn’t see that coming did ya? He was my cell mate for a couple of years, before his unfortunate demise. I liked your daddy. Played one mean game of chess, but you don’t steal from the big boys and expect to live to tell about it.”
“My father is not a thief,” Allison yells her fear transformed into anger.
“Ooh,” the man lets out a crazy laugh. “I guess I pressed a button there. Daddy’s girl are you? Well, you ought to like his final gift.” The man points at the package by Allison’s feet.
Allison looks down at the package. She's still trying to find a way out of there. But her curiosity prevails and she picks it up.
“You know ten years in jail plays games with a man’s mind, but a woman’s touch can heal all that. Especially a beautiful girl like you, just what I need. But… I owe your daddy a life. So if you change your mind and want to spend some quality time, just gimme a call.”
He takes out a marker and writes his number on the wall as he laughs his crazy laugh.
“Just ask for Gamil,” he winks at her. “Bye beautiful.”
Gamil heads for the door, but then looks back at Allison, cowering in the corner.
“Or should I say, see you soon?” He lets out his crazy laugh again, and leaves the apartment.
Allison collapses to the floor and weeps.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Samantha Stone stands by the bed in her room at the Holy Trinity Church packing up a few belongings into a small handbag. She spent the night thinking of an affordable place that would allow her to remain under the radar. Fr. Moses, or Ben, or whatever his real name is, is trouble. Is he even a real priest? How could he hide his real identity from the entire congregation? She knows how the Orthodox Church nominates priests to their churches. They get ordained and then assigned to a church by the Pope, the head bishop of the Orthodox Church, or by the bishop of the diocese.
Fr. Moses couldn’t just suddenly show up at the church and start to serve there. The congregation and the board of deacons would have to accept and approve him first. Moreover, the Orthodox Church hierarchy is closely knit. A mere word of doubt by the bishop of the diocese or any other bishop would blow his cover if he is an impostor. All these facts point to him being a real priest. So a priest who’s also a thief? This is a new one, even for Sam. But she figures it isn't surprising. There are priests who have molested children. Priests are men and in some cases, evil men. Why is it far fetched that this man could be an ordained priest who at some point along the way turned evil? Or maybe he was evil from the start and is an excellent con artist. Or maybe the entire Church hierarchy is corrupt.
Sam forces herself to stop this line of thought. She reminds herself not to judge an entire system by a few bad apples.
The room is now empty from all her belongings. She hauls the bag onto her shoulders and heads out.
As she walks down the hall, Fr. Moses exits his office.
“Where are you off to?” The priest asks, but Sam doesn’t so much as slow down. Fr. Moses stands perplexed for a moment and then catches up with her.
“Wait,” he calls out for Sam. “Why are you angry? Have I offended you in anyway?”
“Not at all,” Sam responds. “I just need some space.”
“Have you found another place already?”
“I’m sure I can crash in a motel until I do.”
“But, why? You can stay here as long as you like.”
Sam stops dead in her tracks and Fr. Moses bumps into her.
“Listen, Fr. Moses, or should I call you Ben, or Fr. Ben. I don’t know which name you go with these days. But I have no intention in getting sucked into the trouble you’re stirring up.”
Fr. Moses stares at Sam for a moment. She can tell he’s assessing how much information she knows. But Sam is a good bluffer. If he’s planning to play with her, he should expect to lose.
“How did you know about that name? Ben, I mean?”
“I’m a resourceful individual,” Sam responds; no expression on her face. “Why don’t you come clean with me. Confess. Or is that reserved for priests only?”
“You don’t understand…”
“I do understand,” Sam interrupts. “I’ve been around the block, father. I can recognize a con artist when I see one.”
Immediately a flare of anger flashes across Fr. Moses’ face.
Good, now he’s angry! Sam thinks. I amped him up. Been always good at that. Now, spill the beans. Come on, give up your secrets.
Fr. Moses lunges for Sam’s arm, but her response is swift. With a skillful martial art move, she unlocks his grip, and before he could react, he finds himself on his knees with his wrist in Sam’s iron grip.
Sam’s anger thumps through her veins. Her painful past with priests comes crashing through her. How they humiliated her when she was younger in front of the entire board of deacons. Why? Because she stopped them from spending a pile of money on upgrading laptops they didn't use. Then they accused her of defending evil. What kind of evil? A fifteen year old boy who got duped into joining a gang. Instead of kicking him out of the church as everyone else wanted to do, she wanted to rehabilitate him. But all this pales to how they continuously accused her father of stealing the church’s money, because when he served as the church’s accountant he decided to use the funds to aid the poor and not to increase the priests’ salaries. Even after he got sick and couldn’t go to church, they kept repeating their same old lies as a way to warn others from doing the same thing.
These memories are only the tip of the iceberg. Her anger at the loss of her father. The loss of her identify; the feeling she is somehow cursed; that she caused the death of so many people, is the iceberg. All these thoughts and memories mesh together into one big heap of molten lava. It burns through her. Confuses her. No longer able to draw rational boundaries between what’s trivial and what’s significant. What’s real and what’s imaginary. Her grip tightens on Fr. Moses’s wrist. A second longer and she will break it.
“Sam,” Fr. Moses says through clenched teeth, fighting off the pain. “You’re hurting me.”
Sam jolts back to reality, her eyes focusing back on her victim. What is she doing? Since when does she lose control over her temper in this manner? How could she let her anger get the better of her? She is… She was a police detective, damn it. What the hell is going on with her? This is unacceptable. She has to get a hold of herself.
A renewed anger starts burning in her stomach and makes it up her throat, but this time it’s not her past but her present that provokes her. Her sense of helplessness at her current situation; at her lost life; at the memory of her dead father, especially at how the people who erased her identity denied her the chance to be at his side when he passed on. The anger turns to rage. She lets go of Fr. Moses and punches the wall instead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Fr. Moses is in agony. He can’t believe that a woman can have this much strength over him. At six feet and four inches, almost five inches taller than Sam, he should be able to withstand her. But right at this moment his wrist feels like jelly in her hand.
“Sam, you’re hurting me,” Fr. Moses says through clenched teeth.
For a moment Fr. Moses can see that Sam had zoned out. Her focus comes back to him and a renewed expression of anger twists her face. If she doesn’t let go of him now, she will definitely break his wrist. But suddenly she does. He collapses backward as he sees Sam’s fist swing at the wall. The only potential out come of hitting solid brick is breaking your hand. This is exactly what Fr. Moses expects to happen to Sam. He tries to warn her, but events are transpiring too fast for him to get out an intelligible warning.
Then something happens. Something that Fr. Moses can’t categorize. Maybe it’s the pain he’s in; maybe it’s the blood rushing to his head. But he swears that he saw a layer of golden light form around her fist. It lasted for only a split second. Then impact. Instead of crushed bones, it is brick shattering. Cracks appear in the wall under the force of Sam's fist.
Sam and Fr. Moses both stare at the wall in disbelief. Fr. Moses turns his gaze at Sam. A moment passes in utter silence and then Sam backs up as she looks at her fist then at the wall.
Who could this woman be? Before Fr. Moses could say anything further, Sam turns and runs away. She disappears around a bend in the corridor.
Fr. Moses gets up and examines his wrist. It’s strained and will need ice in order not to swell up, but this isn’t his main concern. Sam is. Who has he been harboring in his church all this time? No normal human being can do what she did. He inspects the wall. It looks like someone took a sledge hammer to it.
He considers his next move. Calling the cops is one option. Warning Daniel that his girlfriend is definitely dangerous is another option. But all these options completely disregard the repercussions on Sam. Fr. Moses doesn’t want to end up hurting an innocent woman. Strange and unexplained circumstances aside.
Yet, some due diligence is certainly in order; he must investigate who Sam is. Does she represent an imminent danger to Daniel and Allison? Or is she a lost soul? But of course the fact that she knows about “Ben” will greatly complicate the matter. She doesn’t trust him. He suspects she overheard his conversation with Gamil.
Life is about to get a whole lot more interesting.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Samantha crashes on a bed in a small motel room on the edge of Burnaby city. The motel is a mixture of small buildings and an open area that serves as an RV parking lot. This section of town is not known for its safety nor for its friendly neighbors. When Sam was a patrol officer, before her promotion to detective, she patrolled these streets at night where crime was and remains rampant mainly because of the presence of notorious drug lords. At some point it deteriorated so much that it forced the police to reduce their presence. Sam remembers a raid she led against a drug house. Three officers were killed and two injured, including herself. Soon the government decided to change their approach. Instead of weeding out the criminal element, they settled for limiting their growth. But like a malignant cancer, they managed to slow it down, but couldn’t stop it.
A wave of economic instability forced the government to further cut funding to police forces. Instead the government directed its funding to the army resulting in its increased involvement in civilian life, whereas the police were left unable to cope with the growing criminal movement.
This all started before Sam's disappearance and it clear only gained momentum since then. The justification the government gave to this shifting of financial support from the police to the army was to help keep law and order. But Sam knew better. The army isn’t interested in arresting drug lords and human traffickers. Their primary directive is to quench civil uprisings. With many people out of work, it is only a matter of time before a civil disobedience movement can not be stopped.
The army's harsh methods led to civilian deaths. The media, as usual, twisted the story and made it seem that the army had no choice. But again, soldiers’ orders were clear, shoot first and ask questions later. Politicians stepped in and compensated the victims’ families to contain the situation. It's clear to Sam, though, that they are sitting on a time bomb. Sooner or later the army will kill one too many civilians and the authority’s tactics will backfire. Much like a small spark can set fire to an entire forest, the civil unrest movement will burn everything in its path. And who knows what the end of it will be. The army will have a choice at this point. Either side with the people, with their families, friends and fellow humans, or side with a failing government. The same situation has happened in other countries before. No one thinks it can happen here, but the warning signs are there for those who are willing to look. For now, however, the situation is under control. Extensive government subsidies make living for the unemployed somewhat bearable. But how long will the stalemate last?
This is the world Sam lives in and she has this sickening feeling it will only get worse. But no one knows when this downward spiral will happen, it could be over night or it could take decades to unfold. Sam has more pressing matters to deal with, however. What the hell happened back at church? How could she have done this to a brick wall. She expected an injured hand, not a broken wall.
Sam sits up on the edge of the bed. The lights are dim and a strange smell hangs in the air, but none of that bothers Sam. She stares at her hands, and asks the same question again: how did she have the strength to break that wall? The strange thing is, deep down she knows she has the ability to do more damage. She doesn’t know how she knows. It’s one of these gut feelings she always had and learned to trust over her years as a detective. Sam decides to test her theory.
Sam walks out into the cold winter air. The stars shine like little gems in the sky. The light traveling for billions of years flickers as it passes through Earth’s atmosphere. The building where she rented the room is on the edge of the motel land. Behind her is a forest and the nearest building is a good hundred feet away. It’s private enough for her to perform her experiment.
The motel, like the other buildings in this corner of the city, is falling apart. Bricks, concrete blocks left over from demolished buildings and other various types of debris are scattered all over the place. Sam spots a bulky cement block and walks towards it. If her theory is true, she should be able to split this block in half. She has a black belt in judo and taekwondo and has won a few breaking competitions. But in breaking competitions layered objects are of specific thickness. The martial artist accomplishes the break by applying force with speed and concentration. What lay before Sam now is one massive concrete block. This will be a true test of her strength. Whether she possesses super human strength or if it was a freak accident, this test will decide.
Sam takes in a deep breath and let’s it out in short bursts, clearing her mind. With each exhale she traces the final move which will, theoretically, break the block. When she has honed the exact spot she plans to hit, she let’s out an aggressive yell and with all her might hits the brick with her palm. And nothing happens. Well nothing happens to the cement block, her hand is another matter. Her bones fracture and pain shoots through out her arm.
“Shit,” Sam swears in pain, angry at her stupidity. Who does she think she is? How is she going to explain this to a doctor without sounding crazy? The way back to her room, felt like a walk of shame, of utter humiliation. She cradles her injured hand, feeling the blood thumping through the injury.
Back inside her room she lays on the bed and closes her eyes. What was she hoping to accomplish? Was she trying to prove to herself that she is somehow special? Did she think this little experiment would ease the feelings of resentment she has towards her unfortunate situation? She doesn’t even know who she holds this resentment against. Is it God? The battle that rages within her psyche torments her. She needs answers, but nothing. This is why she gave up on prayer a long time ago. It has always been like talking to a brick wall. She would have hope that God would answer her prayers and her many questions in some way, by some sign, yet time after time her hope would fizzle after nothing would happen. What gets her even angrier is when someone regurgitates Bible verses like, “come to me all you heavy laden and I will give you rest”. Well she is heavy laden. She has gone to God several times, but she has never experienced rest. What’s up with that? Does God have his favorites? Are the rest mere off scourings, not worthy of any divine attention? Her mind is full of contradictions. 'God is love' nags at her like an ever present truth. But at the same she gets the distinct feeling God has set His face against her.
Her cell phone rings, breaking her free from the prison of her thoughts. She answers it with her good hand.
“Hello,” she says.
“I missed you!” Daniel’s voice comes from the other end.
This is exactly what I need to hear right now, Sam thinks. Someone out there cares. Daniel took the time out of his busy schedule to checkup on me.
“I miss you too,” she responds, much of the tension evident in her voice. “How are you doing over in the sub-zero temperatures?”
“It’s been crazy, everyone I see can’t believe how I recovered. Some think I’m a ghost. That’s how sure they were about my demise.”
“Well, I’m glad you proved them wrong,” Sam smiles. “I’m glad that you’re here for me.” Her voice breaks as she holds back tears of frustration.
“Is everything okay?” Daniel asks concerned.
Sam takes a moment to compose herself. She hates crying over the phone, especially given the fact that she can’t tell Daniel the whole truth yet. There is no way she will burden him with her problems.
“Sam, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Daniel insists.
“I’m good,” Sam says faking a smile, hoping she transmits it over the phone.
“Sam, why are you not opening up to me?”
“Please, I just need sometime to figure things out. Don’t lose faith in me.”
Silence on the line.
“Daniel,” Sam calls, hoping she didn’t cause permanent damage to their relationship.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Daniel responds. “Listen, I wanted to ask you a favor.”
“Sure, anything.”
“It’s probably nothing. I have been trying to get a hold of Allison, but she hasn’t been answering her phone…”
“I’ll look into it,” Sam interrupts.
Another long pause.
“Thanks,” Daniel says. “Well, I should be back in a couple of weeks. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
“Me too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Daniel hangs up. Sam looks at her phone for a moment then puts it to the side in frustration.
Why can’t I just open up to Daniel? Sam thinks. Why is it so damned difficult for me to trust people? Daniel has been nothing but good to me. He has been there for me when everyone I know is gone.
Sam freezes. She sits there in silence. Her hand, there is no more pain. It isn’t injured any more. The swelling is gone. It’s as if nothing happened. She moves it around and picks up her backpack with it. It is completely healed. What is going on?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kylan Jones is in her manager uniform at the supermarket where she works. She walks through the isles of the canned food and stops at the imported foods section. She uses a bar code scanner to scan the products on the floor. With each scan the store database is updated in real-time. Once she completes her task, she’ll go back to her office and decide what products need to be refilled. This whole process can be automated, but this supermarket chain, under pressure from the government decided to keep the process manual to justify hiring more people. With the high unemployment rate, this didn’t sound like a bad idea.
As she performs her job an older man, perhaps in his seventies, approaches her.
“Sorry, to bother you, but I’m looking for canned jalapenos,” the man says. She can sense his eyes tracing the curves of her body. Men will always be men, no matter how old they get. She’s gotten accustomed to these stares. In fact they give her a kick of confidence.
“Isle 4, sir,” Kylan smiles an attractive smile and then walks past the man, brushing against him. She knows a man his age will never have a chance with a woman like her. But it's all about the tease. Frustrate him. Few can resist her feminine power.
The man stands there flabbergasted watching Kylan carry on her job completely ignoring him. She continues to feel his eyes on her.
Move on old man, she thinks. You’re making a fool of yourself.
Almost as if he heard her thoughts, he turns and walks away. Only then does Kylan allow herself a smile of satisfaction. The smile only lasts a moment. Afterward, it’s replaced by another expression, a sad one. Kylan has had this strange internal conflict since she was five years old, when her parents split. One side of her wants to be in control and dominate people, and the other side wants to be a normal, friendly girl. A a trusting girl who can have faith in the goodness of others. Life would be much simpler that way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Twenty-two years ago
A five-year-old Kylan ran into her room as she always did when her parents fought. She left the door ajar and watched on. This fight was different. What is divorce? Even though her mom explained it when she had split from her father, it still didn't make sense. Her mother had told her it was when a mom and a dad didn’t love each other anymore and they decide not to live together. What was going on between her parents wasn’t about love though. They were fighting about something else. Another concept that wasn’t clear to her five-year-old mind. Money.
Her mom and dad were having a loud argument at the front door of their extravagant house.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her father yelled. “Are you fucking kidding me? You want to take the house? Where the hell am I suppose to live? Huh? Where?”
“I have it by court order,” her mom said, cool and collected. The complete antithesis of her father’s mood. That was her mom. She never got mad. She only got even. Her cold attitude enraged her father.
“This isn’t over, Nancy,” her father said jabbing a finger in Nancy’s face. “You’re not getting away with this. I worked my ass off to pay for all this stuff, while you did nothing. NOTHING.”
“Do you want shared custody of Kylan, or no?” Nancy changed the subject, furthering her x-husband’s rage.
“Screw you. You think you got everything under control?”
“I guess that’s a no,” Nancy interrupted his rage. “Well, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer about alimony and child support.”
Nancy slammed the door before he could get another word in. Kylan heard him hit the door a couple of times, before uttering a few obscenities as he walked away.
Money is the root of all evil, Kylan had heard before, but she didn’t understand why. Her mother seemed to love money more than her own daughter. She wasn’t concerned with Kylan as much as she was concerned with the house and the car and the money in the bank. Why is that? Kylan wondered. To a five-year-old, the feeling of parental abandonment, made her confused, lost.
Kylan closed the door to her room and started packing up her favorite toys in a small bag, but then stopped. There was no place for her to go. More importantly, she had no money to go anywhere. In her childish mind, she determined to save up enough money in order not to need anyone anymore.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Present Day
Kylan awakes from her trance to the sound of an argument in the bakery section. She hangs the scanner on her belt and walks to the argument, which is starting to sound more and more like a fight. And indeed it is. A thug in loose jeans and a black shirt with a skull image on the front, is facing off with two of her staff, Julian and Sandra, and a security guard, Sidhu.
“What’s going on?” Kylan calls as she approaches the argument. Customers start to congregate around the altercation. When she’s close enough, she realizes there is more to the man than being an obnoxious gangster. Another smaller guy is down on the ground with a bloody nose.
“He just punched this guy,” Julian said.
“And I’ll do more than that,” the thug says as he kicks the fallen man.
“That’s enough,” Kylan orders.
“Why don’t you come here and make me, bitch.”
The thug kicks the fallen man again.
“Call the police,” Kylan tells Sandra as she steps between the fallen man and the thug. “What’s your name?”
“What’s that to you?”
“Listen, you’re in a whole load of trouble, so I would suggest you cool off before things get ugly for you.”
The thug laughs out loud.
“Are you threatening me?”
With no prior warning he slaps Kylan hard. Her ears ring.
“Bitch, you don’t know who I am.”
Kylan stands her ground, stone cold expression on her face; eyes void of any emotions. The attention of everyone is on them now.
“Try that one more time,” Kylan hisses at him.
The thug laughs and locks eyes with Kylan. He continues to laugh and then takes another swing at her. This time around the slap misses its target. Before the thug could mount any sort of defense, Kylan’s fist comes smashing into his face. A fountain of blood bursts from his nose and stains his cloths. The thug goes down to the floor hard, holding his face as the blood seeps through his palms.
“Whoa,” Julian and Sandra take a step back in shock, looking from the downed thug to Kylan standing over him.
“I warned you,” Kylan says, as a cheer goes up from the rest of the customers who witnessed the event.
“My hero,” Sandra pats Kylan on the shoulder. “How did you learn to fight like that?”
“I think every woman should know how to fight like that,” Kylan smiles at Sandra.
“Teach me. There are so many dangerous people out there these days. These type of skills would sure come in handy.”
“Sure thing,” Kylan says and then directs her words to the gathered crowd. “Ok everyone, please move along. Nothing to see.”
The crowd disperses, including Julian and Sandra.
Kylan kneels beside the thug who is still bleeding all over the floor.
“Who sent you?” Kylan whispers in his ears.
“Get away from me,” the thug speaks through the blood dripping over his mouth.
Kylan grabs his windpipe, cutting off the air to his lungs. Her back is to Sidhu, so he doesn't notice what she's doing.
“You really don’t want to annoy me. It’s not good for your health,” Kylan says.
“Alright, alright,” the thug’s voice is ragged. Kylan eases her grip. “Reaver sent me.”
“Reaver! Why?” Kylan lets go of him. The thug takes in a deep breath.
“Wanted me to try and flush you out.”
Kylan looks around. To her left an elderly couple pickup some toilet paper. To her right a woman and her four-year-old son push a cart with their shopping items. The boy looks at her, interested in what’s going on. Her eyes dart left and right scanning the faces of the customers looking for Reaver. Then she spots a dark figure of a man, looking through a door leading to the rear loading bay of the store. Kylan gets up and walks towards the figure, but he turns around and heads deeper into the storage bay. She heads after him.
The storage bay is usually well lit, but it appears that someone turned off some of the lights. The dark shadows cast by the racks of product stacked ceiling high are enough to conceal someone’s presence. Kylan moves with the lightness of a cat as she inspects the area. Her heart beats faster. Fear doesn't bother her often, but when it comes to Reaver, the rules change.
“You exposed yourself,” A deep voice thunders, shaking Kylan’s confidence. She snaps towards the source of the voice and sees the silhouetted of a man immersed in the shadows.
“Reaver?”
“Our strength comes from our anonymity. No one can suspect us, and you blew your cover.”
“I’m… I’m sorry,” Kylan’s voice trembles.
There is a moment of silence.
“We still need to take possession of UltraMed’s research. You know what to do?”
“I do.”
Reaver turns around and walks away, leaving Kylan alone, breathing out in relief.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Allison Miller stands in an isle of the library, looking through a thick text book. Life has gotten a whole lot more complicated. A week ago all she had to worry about was her brother and her PhD research project on “The effects of changes in neural input-output gain on attention and learning”. Now she can hardly find the energy to focus on her studies. Whenever she’s alone grim scenarios of her demise at the hands of this organization, flash through her mind, not giving her a moment of peace.
Allison tries to focus as she flips through the pages of the text book looking for an essay on brain and behavior. Just as she finds it, she senses someone stepping close to her, too close. In the moments before she decides to look at the person stalking her, fear grips her heart. Is it the gang making contact with her again? Like removing a bandage from a wound, she decides to bite the bullet and face her fears. It’s Samantha Stone.
Allison goes unhinged when she sees Sam. Why is she here? Did she recognize her from the UltraMed break in? What is she going to do if she did recognize her?
“What are you doing here,” Allison manages to get out in as a calm a voice as she could muster. Although serenity is the last thing she feels.
“I guess, I have to thank you,” Sam smiles. She picks up a book and flips through it, giving the impression that everything is normal.
“Thank me? For what?”
“For not letting your partner kill me.”
Oh crap, Allison thinks. She knows. Crap. Crap. She knows.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about? Who tried to kill you?”
Sam looks at her. Allison feels Sam’s eyes pierce through to the core of her soul.
“Allison, people go to jail for breaking and entering,” Sam says. “If they caught you on security cameras, you’re done.”
Allison shifts around as if she's standing on nails. Damn, she didn’t think about that at all. If anyone gets caught, it would be her. How stupid could she be?
“Did they?” Allison almost begs to know.
There is a moment of silence, as Sam evaluates her.
What is she thinking? Allison wonders. Why is she not saying anything? I knew it. She always wanted me out of the picture. She’s going to report me.
“No they didn’t,” Sam responds and puts the book back on the shelf. Allison almost doesn’t believe her ears. “I made sure of that.”
“Why would you do that?” Allison asks, her voice not louder than a whisper.
“Because you need my help. What did you get yourself into?”
Should I tell her? Allison thinks. No, I can’t. They’ll kill me. They shot Jared in cold blood. They won’t hesitate to do the same to me. There is no way I’m telling her anything.
“Well, I don’t need your help.”
Allison walks away in rapid, unsteady steps. Deep down she’s screaming for help, but she has to walk away. She has to face the consequences on her own.
Sam grabs Allison’s arm and spins her around.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sam is assertive. A few heads pop up from their studies and look at the sudden noise.
“Shh, be quite,” Allison begs Sam.
“Listen, you pissed off the wrong people. You borrowed money from them. You slept with the wrong guy. I don’t care, but I can tell you this. They will use you, then they will kill you.”
Allison stares at Sam. She makes a good point, but still, she can’t just betray these people. It means that death will come a whole lot sooner. And like a prophecy coming true, she spots Kylan and a new guy she hasn’t seen before through the bookshelves. They are looking for her, but haven’t located her yet. The guy with Kylan is a shorter, harmless looking fellow, but Allison knows better than to think any of them are harmless.
“Look, I can’t be seen with you. Just leave me alone. I can handle myself.”
Allison walks in a fast pace away from Sam and toward the exit. For the first time Sam takes note of the isle she’s standing in. The books on the top rows of the left shelve all have yellow covers, and some on the bottom shelves have red covers, others blue. The right shelve is color coded in a similar pattern. It’s the one from her future glimpse. Her vision is coming true. This could be the start of the sequence of events that get Allison killed. This realization adds urgency to Sam’s mission and she immediately heads after Allison.
Sam catches up with Allison and they climb down the stairwell together, down three stories and out to the main floor of the Library. To their left is an open computer lab. To their right is the library checkout desk and straight ahead is the exit. Allison heads right for the exit.
The university’s design resembles a concrete fortress; not much color, just gray concrete walls, walk-ways and stairs. Allison takes a moment to get her bearings. She heads for a set of grand stairs which lead to a small garden split in the middle with a man-made lake. Beyond it is the parking lot. Then she notices that Sam is still following her.
“Stop following me,” Allison says as she turns to face Sam.
“Look, Daniel asked me to check up on you.”
“My brother? What does he know about this?”
“Nothing, I didn’t tell him much. Figured it’s not my place, but for God’s sake Allison, do you really think you can keep working with these guys and get out safe. If you’re not worried about yourself, then worry about your brother.”
“You don’t think I am?” Allison replies, her eyes well with tears. “I did this for him. All this was for him.”
Sam examines Allison, her features softening. “I’m not here to judge. Just to help. Please come with me.”
Allison’s defenses are breaking down. Maybe it’s time to accept help.
“My car is over there,” Allison says.
“Let’s go then.”
They start moving toward the parking lot. The vicious man and his well dressed colleague block their path.
“This way,” Allison panics and grabs Sam’s hand dragging her into a nearby building
Allison looks back and catches a glimpse of the chasers closing in. Sam and Allison run into a wide corridor filled with students going to and from their classes. Sam nudges Allison’s towards a door to their left. The door leads into a lecture hall, filled with what could be up to three hundred students. They climb up the stairs to the top of the lecture hall, where there are a couple of empty seats. They take them. Beside Sam is a student who has her books out and is busy writing down what the lecturer is saying. Calculus. Sam looks at the entrance of the door and sees the two big guys walk in and stand a few levels below them. They search for Allison.
“Do you mind if I borrow this?” Sam points at one of the books which her student neighbor has out.
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you later, thanks,” Sam takes the book without waiting for permission and gives it to Allison.
“Put on your hoodie and pretend you’re reading this,” Sam orders Allison who complies.
The two guys sweep the lecture hall. Their eyes pass Allison a couple of times, but the book is blocking her face. It takes them a few minutes before they turn and leave.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Samantha Stone waits a few minutes to ensure their pursuers are gone before nudging Allison.
“Are they gone?” Allison looks up.
“Yeah,” Sam replies as she takes the book and gives it back to the student sitting beside them. “Here you go, thanks for your help.”
“Whatever,” the girl responds without looking up from her notes.
“Let’s go,” Sam tells Allison. “Stay behind me.”
Sam walks down the stairs that lead to the front of the room. Allison follows her closely.
“I didn’t say anything when you came in,” a voice booms through the lecture hall’s sound system. “But this is unbearable. You have to respect the lecturer.”
It takes a moment for Sam to realize that the lecturer is addressing them. He is annoyed at the distraction they are causing. Sam looks straight at him and gives him the thumbs up, taking satisfaction at his annoyance. She remembers how the priest of the church she used to go to pulled the same trick. He would stop his sermon and embarrass anyone who dared leave or enter the hall during his lecture.
Sam pushes away the thought as she sneaks a peak outside the lecture hall. The section of the corridor visible appears void of the pursuers. She gestures to Allison to stay put as she heads through the doors.
Outside, it’s business as usual. Students moving around going to their next class. The traffic is dissipating as students enter their respective lectures. There is no sign of these two guys or of their woman leader. Sam heads back to the lecture hall entrance and signals Allison to follow her. They both walk out.
“How do we get to your car from here?” Sam asks, but Allison looks afraid and distracted. Sam decides it’s time for a little pep talk. Allison looks like she needs it.
“Listen, Allison,” Sam says as she holds Allison’s shoulders. The human touch will give her some reassurance. “I know this seems bad right now, but you did the right thing. It’s clear these guys don’t have your best interest at heart. They’ll just keep on using you, but I’m here to help. Remember that. Now what’s the shortest route to your car?”
This seems to do the trick. Allison's panic loses its edge.
“This way,” Allison gestures down another narrower corridor which intersects the one they are currently standing in.
“Good,” Sam smiles. “Let’s go.”
They walk quickly down the narrower corridor. They had not gone far when suddenly they hear the voice of the woman pursuer as she calls for her goons.
“Here they are,” the woman says, and Sam looks back. Their eyes lock for a moment and at that moment Sam understand the gravity of the situation. She’s not dealing with a bunch of amateur gangsters. These are professional criminals, part of an organized cartel.
“Run,” Sam tells Allison and they bolt.
Sam and Allison run toward a staircase straight ahead. It leads to the ground level and from there to the parking lot. The staircase is within eyesight, but out of nowhere a group of new students on a tour of the university, walk out of an intersecting corridor right in their paths, blocking their way. Sam looks behind her and sees the other guys closing in.
“Gun,” Sam yells. At first she garners just a few looks, but no major panic, which is what Sam was hoping for. She takes it further. “These guys are terrorists, call security. Hurry,” Sam continues yelling and pointing at their pursuers.
Panic spreads like wildfire as the group disperses and runs in different directions. A hole opens through them. Sam grabs Allison’s hand and drags her toward the staircase. At the staircase Sam hazards a look back and sees their pursuers are also trying to get through the crowd, but have slowed down. Sam and Allison increase their lead.
They run down the stairs and out to the parking lot.
“Where is your car?” Sam asks in a hurry, knowing time is of the essence. She already sees the pursuers through the building’s glass door as they make it down the stairs.
Allison doesn’t answer, out of breath. She points in the direction of her car. They head there.
“Let me drive,” Sam snatches the keys from Allison’s hand as they arrive at the car. “Come on, get in.”
Allison has no option but to obey. Sam gets into the driver side and starts the car. Once Allison is in, Sam puts the car in reverse and slams on the gas. The car’s tires do a couple of revolutions, ejecting gravel and creating a puff of dust in the air, before gaining traction and screeching backwards. Sam maintains impeccable control over the car. She puts it in drive and bolts away. The two guys step in her way, but she doesn't slow down, calling their bluff, forcing them to jump out of the way.
Sam drives out of the parking lot and exits onto the main street.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Samantha Stone checks her rear view mirror. No cars are following them.
“Are you ok?” Sam inspects Allison, whose knuckles have turned white from how tightly she grips her knees. She stares straight ahead. An involuntary shake goes through her body. Sam puts a hand on her shoulder, trying to keep an eye on the road while comforting Allison at the same time.
“No, I’m not okay,” Allison pushes Sam’s hand away. “You shouldn’t have interfered. Do you think these guys will just give up? They will find me.”
“That’s the thanks I get!” Sam responds annoyed. “What did you want to do genius? What the hell did they want from you?”
Allison doesn’t answer.
“Listen,” Sam says. “I didn’t put my ass on the line for you so you can give me the silent treatment. I’m in this with you, do you know what that means? The same guys who are after you are now after me. So let’s level with each other. What did they ask you to do? I know it has something to do with UltraMed. Professor Sherman’s research to be specific, but what?”
Allison gives Sam a defiant look and then turns her eyes away.
The drive is bumpy due to the poor road conditions. Road maintenance is now rare due to budget cuts across the board in all social sectors. In the distance, Sam sees some abandoned buildings which are common all over town now. Some buildings are abandoned construction sites. Others are burnt and vandalized buildings. A mass exodus out of the city has been occurring over the better half of the decade. Many people are unable to afford living in the city due to rising costs and lack of jobs. The more who left the more areas became abandoned. With no one to maintain the city’s infrastructure the more it became decrepit. This situation created an opportunity for the homeless and the criminal elements to move in. The homeless sought shelter from the unpredictable weather, while criminals sought a way to stay off the radar and in the process took the remaining residents and the new homeless residents hostage. They established a new power hierarchy that no one who lives outside their territories understands clearly. Thus the “Shadow Lands” were born. Now there are two parallel layers of society in the city. Law abiding citizens compose one layer, much like what existed in the country two decades ago. The other layer exists in these “Shadow Lands”. A version of society driven by "survival of the fittest" mentality, where the strong prey on the weak.
Sam takes an exit toward the Shadow Land.
“Where are we going?” Allison asks worried. “It isn’t safe there.”
“It’s ironic, but this shadow land is the safest place for us right now, beside it’s not all bad. I’m staying at motel on the edge of the territory and it’s relatively safe there. As long as we keep to ourselves, no one will bother us.”
Sam judges that a silent Allison has no better ideas to offer.
“They wanted to get the professor’s research on Nano-bot Technology?” Allison finally speaks.
“Nano-bot?”
“Small robots the size of a blood cell.”
“What do these nano-bots do?”
“Anything you program them to do really. They have application in practically all fields of engineering. Lately they’ve been trying to introduce them in the field of medicine but unsuccessfully so far. The immune system usually attacks those nano-bots as foreign bodies. The nano-bot AI fights back and destroys the body’s immune capabilities killing the host body in the process.”
“That’s some AI. I’m hoping we’re talking about mice, not people.”
“Yes, no human experimentation has been approved.”
“So what’s so earth shattering about the professor’s research?”
“He is working on finding a way to allow the nano-bots to exist within the human body without triggering an immune system reaction.”
“And was he successful?”
“I don’t know, you kinda interrupted us when we were looking through his research.”
“Well, I apologize for the inconvenience,” Sam says sarcastically. “But I don’t get it, why you? Why did they choose you to break into UltraMed?"
“I told you, I study these things. They wanted someone familiar with the topic to look through the research and get the information they wanted.”
“How did they even know what you study?”
“I filled out an application.”
“You told them about yourself? Why would you do that?”
“I borrowed money from them, okay? I never thought it would come to this.”
“Do you know why this research is so important to them?”
“No.”
“Corporate espionage?” Sam thinks out loud. “It happens all the time. If there are other companies working on the same technology and they believe that professor Sherman has made progress, they might want to acquire his data.”
“I don’t care. I just wanted to do that for them and get it over with,” Allison says, frustration creeping back in her voice.
“Do you think they’ll just let you go? Don’t be gullible. Once you’re in with people like this, there is no way out.”
“Well, how…” Allison starts but is interrupted as a larger SUV rams them from behind. Sam curses herself for not paying closer attention to the road. The SUV rams them again, and for a moment Sam loses control over the car as it swerves violently, but she regains control quickly. Sam floors the gas pedal, and Allison’s car revs into lower gear, speeding up. But the chasing SUV is a much bigger and newer car. It pulls up beside them and side swipes them.
Sam reduces her speed and lets the SUV over-take them, maneuvering herself into a position of relative power, behind the pursuing car. She rams them, but to no effect. The damned SUV is too big and too heavy. Sam decides on evasion. When you can't fight them, run away and regroup. She looks for a way off the highway and spots a small exit coming up fast. In fact, too fast for Sam to make the turn without risking flipping the car. But safety is a luxury she can’t afford at the moment. She swerves, and for a moment she thinks that the car is indeed going to flip. Allison yells unintelligible words at Sam.
“Shut up,” Sam yells back at Allison, as she stabilizes the car.
Unfortunately, it appears that the SUV was able to backup, blocking traffic. They earn themselves a few angry honks and obscene swear words, but now they are roaring towards Sam and Allison again. Evasion didn't work. This is starting to look hopeless for the duo. On their left side is a river, which is overflowing its banks and is only stopped by a cement blockade running along the length of the river and on their right is a thick forest, which slopes down hill.
There is no way off this one-way road for at least thirty kilometers. The road has very narrow shoulders, but that doesn’t stop the SUV from trying to pull up beside them. Sam tries her best to block them. But after a few tries, they are able to wedge themselves between Allison’s car and the cement blockade separating the road from the river. The water of the river is abnormally high. Rough currents cause the water to spill over on the road.
The SUV side swipes Sam’s car on the left side, forcing her to swerve into the forest to her right. Luckily she drives into a clearing which opens into a track wide enough for her car to drive through. Sam drives down the steep slope, trying her best to control the bouncing car. But as the nature of luck goes, it runs out. A thick forest line blocks their way. Sam slams on the break and the car skids to a stop before it crashes head on with a benevolent-looking tree.
“Get out,” Sam tells Allison. “Hurry, let’s go.”
Sam and Allison get out of the car and head deeper into the forest. Not far behind them, the SUV comes to a stop and the two guys get out and pursue them.
The forest ground is soggy. With every step their feet sink into the loose muddy ground, slowing them down considerably. Sam looks behind her and sees the two guys gaining.
“This isn’t going to work,” Sam says as she stops and turns to face the two guys.
Allison overshoots Sam for a few moments before she stops as well and turns back at her.
“What are you doing?” Allison calls.
“Keep going. I’ll slow them down,” Sam says and takes out her baton.
The two guys slow down as they approach Sam, both towering over her.
“Guys, guys,” Sam smiles. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we talk about this like adults?”
“You caused us a lot of trouble, lady,” the handsome man says. “It wasn’t very smart. But we’re reasonable. Just step aside, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Ah, I’m just not digging that option,” Sam says.
“Ok, well, have it your way.”
The vicious man reaches for his holster and takes out his gun, but Sam is faster. She expands her baton and commences her attack. First step is to disarm the vicious looking man. With a forward swing, Sam hits his arm, knocking the gun out of his hand. It flies a few feet and sinks into the muddy ground. She follows it with a back swing taking the other guy’s legs out from underneath him. He goes down with a thud, wallowing in the mud. She swings again at the first guy. He is packed with muscle and in general a much more intimidating opponent than the handsome, taller one. Her attempt, however, fails and she finds the business end of the baton held in the vicious man’s hand. He twists the baton out of hers, but she doesn’t give up. She goes in with a skillful kick, but the man appears to be a professional wrestler. He grabs her kicking leg underneath his arm pit and swings her around as if she is as light as a feather and lets her go. She flies a meter or so before crashing into a thick tree trunk. She collapses to the ground, dazed and on the verge of losing consciousness.
Sam tries her best not to give into the darkness forcing itself into her mind, but attempts to get up subsequently collapsing on all fours. Through a cloud of darkness Sam notices the handsome man walking towards her. She musters every last ounce of strength and lunges at him. But her move is too weak and too slow and he easily withstands her weight. He pushes her aggressively into another tree. But as he’s doing so, Sam grabs at him and knocks out his phone. In the heat of the moment neither of them realize it happened.
“You should’ve taken option one,” the handsome man says and then kicks Sam in the face. The kick is forceful enough to snap her head back. Sam both hears and feels a strange bone crushing sound as her head hits the tree trunk. Then, utter and complete blackness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Fr. Moses Jones stands in a clearing which belongs to an abandoned cement factory. The force of the wind moving through the idle machines causes them to sway and produce a high pitched creaking noise. It gives the whole place an ominous feel.
He remembers when his father used to work the floor in this factory. Many families made a living off its operation, until the great depression of 2018. The economy of the entire country, in fact the entire world crashed. Fr. Moses read about the subject. There wasn’t only one contributing factor for the economic collapse. Rather, it was a combination of many issues, from banks giving huge loans to anyone who applied, regardless of whether they were able to afford it, to the sky rocketing oil prices, the wars waged abroad, credit default swaps, credit default obligations and synthetic mortgages. It was all part of a scheme to make a few people super-rich at the expense of the citizens of the world.
But Fr. Moses isn’t so much interested in the mechanics of how the world economy collapsed, but rather why it collapsed. It comes down to human greed. The love of money is the root of all evil. This has proven true throughout the generations. This is what got him started thinking about God in the first place. All the people he knew pursued materialistic things, like houses, money, fame. This was him, no denying that. But when he lost everything, he ended up thinking there must be something more to life than the physical reality around him. What is the point of it all? The toil, the hardship, the sickness? There must be something more to our lives than to waste it chasing things which will never satisfy. Or even if they do, it will only be for a short time soon replaced with hunger for more.
An old, worn out SUV pulls up beside him, interrupting his stream of thought. Gamil gets out, laughing his insane laugh.
“Howdy partner,” Gamil says. “Do you have what I asked for?”
Fr. Moses hands him an envelop full of money. Gamil snatches it and proceeds to count its contents. Once he’s satisfied that all the bills are there, he looks up at Fr. Moses and gives off his crazy laugh.
“Where did you get the car?” Fr. Moses asks. He knows Gamil just got out of prison and wouldn’t have any money to buy a car.
“Oh, I’m working with Reaver,” Gamil answers matter-of-factly. “Want back in? Pays better than ever.”
“Reaver? I thought he was dead.”
“Yeah, well I don’t ask many questions. Just like gettin’ paid, y’know.”
“Come on Gamil, you know nothing good is gonna come out from working for Reaver,” Fr. Moses tries to dissuade Gamil. “So why don’t you take this money and go start a new life somewhere else.”
“Start a new life on seventy grand, what rock have you been living under?”
“Jesus Christ!”
“So the rock has a name?” Gamil laughs. “Look man, there is no God, you know that, I know that. All this,” Gamil gestures at Fr. Moses’ black robe, “is just a scam.”
“No, it’s not,” Fr. Moses assures him. “You know how we were before, always looking for the next big score, but it never came. There is a God, and he’s the only one who can satisfy us.”
“What is satisfaction dude? Satisfaction for me is having money in my pocket, food in my belly and a woman at home.”
“Can you honestly say that’s it?”
Gamil thinks for a moment and then waves the thought away.
“Whatever man, I guess, God found you and Reaver found me.” He laughs, as he walks back to the car. “I’ll stay in touch.” He gets into his car and rolls down the window. “Now don’t you up and leave, a’ight? Don’t make me come lookin’ for ya.”
He laughs his insane laugh as he drives off.
Fr. Moses watches the car disappear around a bend in the road and makes a mental note to keep tabs on Gamil. They go way back, and he feels somewhat responsible for Gamil’s well being. Everyone makes up their own mind at the end and have to live with the consequences of their decisions. But his job is to make sure the opportunity keeps knocking for as long as possible. He himself had to lose everything before he could see this opportunity for what it is: a lifeline.
Now, though, he had more urgent matters to attend to, Samantha Stone. He has been thinking about her lately, about what happened at church. The cracked wall still stands as a testament to the events that transpired.
There was a way to find out more about Sam without getting her in trouble. It involved asking a favor from a police officer, Zoltan, who is a part of his congregation. Fr. Moses had helped him through some tough marital issues, and since then the man has been trying to find a way to repay him. Fr. Moses of course didn’t help him with the expectation of some payment, but it is what it is. Now he has the option to exercise this favor. What if there is some illegality around Sam, though? He will be putting Zoltan in a tough spot. He can’t ask him not to do his job. The other option is to let the whole thing go, and hope Sam would approach him if she needs his help.
Fr. Moses walks back to his car, considering both options. By the time he’s behind the steering wheel, he had already made his decision. Option two it is. Let Sam come to him on her own terms, if at all. He learned from experience that the best thing to do is pray for people. God can work mightily through prayers, a simple fact many people miss due to lack of faith.
As he’s about to turn the ignition on, his phone rings. It is an older phone. The one you have to actually take out from your pocket and press the answer button to use. He keeps using it despite it being easy nowadays to get one of these nifty glasses, which has an integrated computer, constantly connected to the internet. It learns your habits and figures out ways to make day to day tasks more convenient. But Fr. Moses actually likes the inconvenience of daily tasks. What is wrong with reading books for research? Or with dialing someone’s number? Or even better, just walking up to their apartment and having a face to face conversation? He isn’t comfortable with these new all purpose technologies. It’s making people more and more disconnected, reducing their ability to socialize in intimate settings. This often leads to small matters exploding into big problems when people can't resolve their differences in person.
Fr. Moses looks at the ringing phone, but it’s not a number he recognizes. He answers.
“Hello,” Fr. Moses says.
“Fr. Moses, it’s Sam. I need your help.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Two hours earlier
Samantha Stone wakes up all at once, eyes wide open. Everything spins at a dizzying rate. The iris of her eyes are wide open, unresponsive to the flooding light. Blinking doesn’t help. Then the pain sweeps over her like a tsunami, her head, her neck, her back. All through she’s neither able to move her hands nor her feet, nor utter a word of complaint explaining the anguish she’s experiencing, completely paralyzed. A moment later her muscles get a sudden jolt of electricity. Then the convulsions begin. She is unable to perceive or understand where she is. Someone’s hands hold her down and in her mind, which is lucid, she attempts to rationalize through her ordeal. Someone holds her down to prevent her from causing damage to others or herself.
The convulsions subside. Sam breathes in relief. It’s over. She hopes.
The iris of her eyes finally adjust to the light enabling her to focus on her surroundings. She stares up at a worn out tarp. A slight tilt of her head reveals a shelter made of tree branches. The humidity is thick in the air. She can taste the moisture. The ground she’s lying on shifts underneath her, almost swaying in the wind. With some effort she rolls on her side and stops breathing. The whole place is so wobbly because the make shift shelter is actually built at the top of a huge tree. It’s a tree house.
Sam is not a fan of heights and starts to panic, attempting to get up.
“Please, stop,” a voice warns her.
Sam freezes and looks around trying to determine where the voice came from. It takes a moment to locate the man speaking to her. He hangs on like a monkey from the branches above her.
“Jack?” Sam says incredulously. He’s the last person she expects to see, but damn it feels good to see a familiar face. “Where did you come from?”
“This is my home.”
Sam looks around her, then down. It’s a long way down. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the dizziness.
“How did I get up here?”
“I carried you,” Jack responds, as if to a child. “I thought you were dead. I saw how these guys beat you, I could’ve sworn they snapped your neck.”
Sam recalls the fight and instinctively reaches for her neck and the back of her head.
“Yeah, I thought so too,” she says. Things have been strange lately. Lots of unexplained events since she escaped the incineration facility. What happened to her in the past two year? Where was she? And why can’t she remember anything? What about these strange abilities she’s been manifesting lately? Unnatural strength, speed healing, future glimpses? She isn’t going to get answers now, though, is she?
Jack climbs down and kneels beside her, leaning close to her, examining her face. He's too close for comfort, and the smell of his sweat overpowers her.
“Who are you?” Jack asks.
“What do you mean? It’s me, Sam,” Sam says as she tries to get some distance from him. She doesn’t want to be rude after he saved her life, but he stinks.
“No, you’re not. Sam died. I saw her get killed.”
This gets her full attention.
“You were there? You saw what happened to me?”
“They shot Sam. Took her away in their white van. I remember. I’m not crazy. I remember. You’re not Sam.”
“That’s it? Where did they take me?”
“You’re not Sam. Sam is dead. I’m not crazy.”
“Jack, no you’re not crazy. You were never crazy, but you have to tell me what happened?”
Jack looks at her narrowly, still not convinced she is indeed who she says she is. “How can I trust you? I’m no dummy. You could be an impostor.”
“Remember how I gave you gift cards to buy food and clothes?” Sam says eager to know what he knows. “If I’m not Sam, how would I know that?” Jack doesn’t look convinced. “What about your daughter? How she kicked you out of her house.”
That did it. It takes a moment but Jack finally smiles.
“It’s you. You didn’t die.” He gives her a bear hug.
Sam almost gags on the stench. It’ll for sure cling to her for the next couple of days. She doesn’t push him away since he has information she needs.
“They didn’t think I was smart enough. Everyone thinks I’m stupid. But I’m no dummy. I climbed on the back of that van and hitched a ride all the way to that warehouse. The warehouse made with fire. You know where they put all the bodies.”
“What do you mean warehouse made with fire?”
“I went inside. There was fire every where.”
Sam understands he is talking about the incineration facility. “Did you see what they did with me?”
“I stayed there for a long time. I tried to help you. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t. Do you understand? I couldn’t do it.”
“Jack, it’s okay. I understand, but just tell me, what happened?”
“I waited there for two days and they kept bringing more and more people, all unconscious, or dead. I couldn’t tell. Once in a while a helicopter came and took some away. The rest they burnt in the fire.”
“So they took me away, did you see that?”
“I couldn’t spend more time there. The smell of burnt flesh. I couldn’t. You have to understand. I had to leave. I had to.”
“It’s okay, Jack. I understand”
Sam slumps back overwhelmed. Her mind formulates a strategy to find out what happened. Going back to the incineration facility and investigating it more seems like an obvious first step. Tracking the kidnappers and understanding their hierarchy, even attempting to infiltrate their group is another option. Stop. Just stop. Sam seems to have forgotten why she’s in this mess to start with. Allison.
“There was another girl with me. Did you see her?” She asks Jack.
“The two big guys got to her.”
“Did you see where they took her?”
“That way,” Jack points in the direction of the highway, which isn’t helpful to Sam. How is she going to find her now? Judging by the dimming daylight, these goons could be anywhere by now. Sam has no hope of finding her anytime soon. What is she going to tell Daniel? A sinking feeling knots up her stomach.
“But would this help?” Jack holds out a phone.
Sam looks at the phone, not exactly sure how this can help.
“It fell from the guy that killed you, well, that almost killed you.”
Sam snatches the phone from him excitedly and looks through it. The goon that owns the phone, which Sam suspects to be the tall handsome one, must be arrogant or simply stupid. He left his phone unlocked. Soon enough Sam is into his personal emails, text and voice messages, pictures, bank accounts, social media profiles. Sam gathers that his name is Hester and the vicious looking guy’s name is Butch. Are these guys for real? Hester and Butch? They must be joking. Their woman leader’s name is Kylan. Plenty of emails there about kidnappings and black mailings they had done or planning to do. Text messages and emails from Kylan ordering them to transfer subjects from one location to another. There is information about meeting spots. Sam doesn’t have enough time to go into all the details. But she does find a text message which Butch sent to Kylan and CCed Hester telling her they had acquired the package. Kylan responded by telling them to meet at their usual spot. The time on these messages is only two hours ago, which leads Sam to believe Allison is the package. Sam does some cross referencing to see where this usual spot could be. After looking at a bunch of correspondences, she narrows the meeting spot to three likely places. The bad news is all three are in completely opposite parts of town. By the time she finds the right one, it might be too late for Allison.
The good news is that if Sam is going to face-off with these guys, this data could be the leverage she needs. Next step is to upload all Hester’s data to her personal cloud account before he realizes he lost his phone and changes all his passwords. With the new 6G mobile networks, it doesn’t take much time to transfer all the data to her personal space.
“Jack, thanks. You’re a life saver,” Sam says, then looks around. “How do I get down from here?”
Jack looks up at the sky thick with black rain clouds.
“Going now is no good,” Jack warns Sam. “The cursed rain is about to come.”
“Cursed rain?” What a strange term to use.
Jack uncovers his arm and it’s full of blisters. The sight of the blisters is so disgusting that Sam can’t take her eyes off of it.
“That’s from the rain?”
“Not any rain,” Jack points up at the sky and Sam looks up. The clouds do appear darker and some areas take on a greenish tint. “Whenever the green mist appears, the rain becomes poisonous.”
As Sam continues to watch the green mist indeed becomes more pronounced. It appears to be vapor in the higher atmosphere. Jack takes out a heavy blanket made from a thick plastic like material.
“We have to cover ourselves with this,” he says.
He covers himself with it then gestures for Sam to come close so she can take cover as well. Sam reluctantly adheres to the instructions and scoots beside him so the blanket can protect both of them. She just hopes she can hold back the urge to throw up from the stink. Jack should consider a bath.
It doesn’t take long before the rain starts. It increases in intensity until it’s an out-pour. Sam doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
“Are you sure the rain is poisonous,” Sam asks Jack.
“You can try sticking your hand out and see,” Jack responds.
As if by prophecy, a small drop shatters off a branch and its residue splatters in random direction, some landing on Sam’s hand. She feels a burning sensation, as if acid just landed on her hand. Her first reaction is to rub it off, but she knows this will only serve to spread the harm. Jack moves the blanket to cover Sam more fully, and then reaches into his pocket and gives her a small tube.
“Put some of this on,” Jack tells her.
Sam squeezes a bit of the cream out of the tube and spreads it on the affected area. The relief is immediate.
“How’s this possible? The rain has no effect on anything else,” Sam says.
“It’s the cursed rain. The green mist rises every twenty-one days.”
“Why?”
“Old Jack don’t know, but I stole the cream from the space people.”
“Jack, you’re not making sense. Space people?”
“They were wearing white plastic suits with helmets and had strange equipment with them.”
Sam starts to put the picture together. These must be some environmental investigators examining the area to determine the impact of the poison rain. That leaves more questions than answers. Who do they work for? What causes this poison rain? What if the effects of it spreads to populated areas? What would happen if the poison rain gets into the water supply? All these issues are significant public hazards. Sam’s detective instincts bloom again and a desire to find out becomes unmistakable. The timing is a bit off though. One mission at a time.
They stay huddled together for about ten minutes, before the rain finally subsides. But just when Sam thinks the worst is over, she feels a distant rumbling, and then hears a great rushing, as of much water heading towards them. It’s a flash flood.
“You better hold onto something,” Jacks says, as he holds onto a thick branch. Sam does the same.
“Don’t worry, I chose my tree well,” Jack reassures her, but that doesn’t make her feel any better.
She sees the tsunami of muddy water coming down the hill, sweeping small trees and bushes in its way. Two seconds until it reaches them. One. Then the whole tree shakes. Sam holds on for dear life. The water passes underneath them with much force. For a moment Sam thinks it’s going to uproot the tree. The few minutes of the flash flood feel like an eternity to Sam. Soon, the water starts to subside until it’s gone.
Sam releases her strong hold on the trunk and sags down, feeling her muscles go jelly. If she is going to die, she would rather not drown nor be burnt alive. There isn’t a worse way to go.
“Is it over now?” Sam asks Jack. “Or should I expect any more natural disasters?”
“Maybe the big-one, but I’m not sure when that’s going to happen.”
Sam can’t help but smile.
“It’s safe now to go find your friend,” Jack says.
Sam looks at the immense distance to the ground.
“Umm, how am I suppose to get down?”
“Oh, sorry,” Jack unhooks a thick rope and lets it dangle down.
“Swell,” Sam says, then takes a hold of the rope and starts down.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Samantha Stone makes it to Allison’s car. To her utter dismay the flash flood had flipped it and wrapped it around a tree like Christmas lights. The car is a total loss in every sense of the word. If it was difficult to find Allison while she thought she had a mode of transportation, now that this luxury is off the table, the task has become impossible. Unless. There is always an “unless”.
Sam recalls a discussion she had with a man whom she thought of as a spiritual leader, Theodore (Ted) Petros. They got to know one another by a total accident.
When Sam was nineteen, her growing frustration with the close mindedness of the leadership at the church she attended reached its apogee. At the time she considered completely excommunicating herself from the church. One day she had an argument with the priest. She doesn’t remember what it was about, but it seemed significant at the time. When it was clear the priest wasn't listening to her point of view she stormed away, fuming. Ted witnessed the tail end of the argument by an accident and caught up with her. They had a long discussion which covered many topics. The point pertinent to her current situation was about impossibility. She felt that dealing with clergy was impossible. They were closed minded. They never accepted any opinions or viewpoints that did not agree with their own. They were set in their ways and they thought they were always right and everyone else who didn’t share their ways of thinking was wrong. The overwhelming need to control others to get a sense of self-worth is a sickness. This caused Sam much frustration and heartache. It was impossible for her to deal with such a situation. Ted had told her at the time that what often seems impossible almost always comes with an “unless” clause.
It’s impossible to deal with them, Ted had told her, unless one understands how they think and navigates around the obstacles they set. It might seem like a trivial point, but it had changed the way she deals with many situations in her life. Always look for the “unless” clause.
As she stands in front of the destroyed car, she tries her best to find a way to deal with the problem at hand; the “unless” clause. There aren’t many people to ask for help. In fact the list boils down to one person, Daniel. But he isn’t here and even if he was, she wouldn’t want to involve him in this ordeal. The other option is Fr. Moses. She doesn’t trust him. And he could be holding a grudge after she almost broke his wrist. But at this point, he’s the only one who can help. So Sam dials his number. Here goes nothing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Allison Miller has gone numb. She should be scared, terrified actually, but for some reason she isn’t. Numb. No emotions. Just an anticipation her life is going to end within the next few hours, if that. Blind folded, driven from the forest where they captured her to a large enclosed area which she guessed from the echo to be some sort of a warehouse, and then handcuffed to a pole to await her fate.
Allison’s mind draws a blank. There is no way out of this nightmare and the likelihood of her going through the fire unharmed is slim to none. So she resigns herself to her fate and waits for what might come next.
Allison doesn’t have to wait long. Soon she hears footsteps closing in. It sounds like three, no, four people; one of them is a woman, wearing high heals; Kylan? They close in and then a hand removes her blindfold. Her eyes get accustomed to the dim lighting in a matter of seconds. She’s in a factory, probably a car factory. There are different types of machines all over the factory floor. Some are there to move car parts between the different processes. Others to compress sheets of metal into different shapes. Yet others have robotic arms to cut metal into specific shapes. And many others which she can’t even begin to know their function. Allison absorbs her surroundings with a quick sweep of the place. Then her eyes settle on Kylan towering over her and the two goons standing behind Kylan. There is a fourth, but Kylan is blocking Allison’s view.
“You brought this on yourself,” Kylan says. “If you just cooperated, things would’ve gone down very differently. I guess, should’ve, would’ve, could’ve.”
Kylan points at a laptop computer on a makeshift table a few feet away.
“This is the professor’s laptop, find us what we want,” Kylan orders.
“Why should I?” Allison says. Her voice sounds distant, even to her. “You’re going to kill me either way.”
Kylan takes out her gun with one hand and with the other grabs a hold of Allison’s neck, choking her. Allison opens her mouth to take a breath but gags when Kylan shoves the barrel of the gun into her mouth, it’s metallic taste overpowering her. She coughs and almost throws up.
“Does death sound appealing to you, because if it does I can make it happen,” Kylan says. “What’s it going to be?”
At this moment, with a death instrument shoved up her mouth, Allison knows she doesn’t want to die. There is still so much she wants to do. Finish her degree, see her brother again, travel the world, meet a special someone. So much left to do. But if she dies now…
She doesn’t finish the thought. She wants to live. She nods at Kylan unable to speak. Kylan takes a moment to drive her point home and then withdraws her gun.
“Smart move,” Kylan says.
Kylan tucks her gun back into its holster, mounted on her right hip. She steps aside and Allison can finally see the forth person. It’s professor Sherman and he’s in a bad shape, swollen eye, bleeding lips. It appears they tried to coerce information out of him unsuccessfully. Allison can’t stop staring at him, even after the big vicious guy uncuffs her and pushes her toward the computer. She keeps looking over her shoulder at the badly beaten Sherman.
“Please don’t,” he mouths to her. But what is she going to do? If she doesn’t give them what they want they’ll beat it out of her, and she can't take that. She can’t take torture, and for what? Some information. Who gives a damn? Just give them what they want.
Allison starts working on the laptop, ciphering through gigabytes of data, trying to find his research on Nano-bot technology. The man is a true genius. He has written white papers on many topics in the medical and the engineering fields. Most notably, he wrote on cybernetic limbs, an advancement in the prosthetic limb research. These are true fusions between Man and Machine. Amputees can control these artificial limbs as if they were their own. Not only that, but these limbs provide unprecedented sensory feedback designed to allow the brain to interpret them much the same way as sensory input from a natural limb. The professor appears to have hit a snag, however. The artificial limbs’ sensors do not produce brain compatible signals. This causes the body to reject these limbs in seventy percent of the experiments. Bingo. That’s where the nano-bot technology comes in. Nano-bots hook to the nerve endings and translate the limb's sensory input into signals the human brain can understand. But the nano-bot technology itself has problems. From there Allison finds the research Professor Sherman is conducting on the nano-bot technology. His work allows them to be pretty much invisible to the body’s immune system.
Allison starts to feel guilty about what she’s doing. Once she announces she has the research they will most likely kill the professor. He has seen their faces, what are they going to do, let him go? Give him the chance to rat them out. That’s not going to happen. And as for her, her future is uncertain. The only way she can avoid being killed is by leveraging the only advantage she has. Her skills. Her knowledge of the research they are looking for. But she needs time to think up of a strategy. So she decides to continue acting like she hasn't found what they are looking for.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Samantha Stone sits in Fr. Moses’ car which he parked in a shady industrial area. The industrial complex looks abandoned. Not a single person in sight. Yet Sam feels they are being watched. She knows these areas are home to some of the most notorious gangs in the city. Her days on the task force attest to that. Back then her team was responsible for hunting down and arresting criminals who took shelter here, but at the time she had backup, and a gun to protect herself. Now, only a baton. What’s that going to do against a semi automatic? Not much.
“How could you be sure they are there?” Sam asks, referring to a car junk yard built on an acreage which lies a few blocks away. She still doesn't trust Fr. Moses, or Ben. How could she trust someone who hides his past?
Don’t be so judgmental, Sam. She tells herself. You keep your past hidden from Daniel too. Maybe the priest has a good reason as well. Now you know how Daniel feels. But he’s a way better person than you are. He chose to trust you, unlike how you’re feeling towards Fr. Moses.
From their current location they can see the glint of the metal of the cars in the failing daylight. An hour, maybe two remain until complete darkness.
Fr. Moses turns to Sam and gives her a look. For some odd reason it reminds her of her father. “I know you don’t trust me and I can’t blame you, but you called me because you believed that I can help in some way. All I’m asking for is a bit of faith.”
“Faith is hard to come by these days,” Sam says. “Stay in the car.”
Sam gets out of the car and to her dismay Fr. Moses follows suit.
“You will need me. Trust me on this one,” Fr. Moses says.
Sam hesitates, but then figures a couple of extra eyes are not a bad thing.
“Look, I know how these guys think,” Fr. Moses starts. “They will have a few of their goons protecting the area. Most will be heavily armed. I doubt you can take them all on. I’ll create a diversion.”
“You talk like you’re one of them,” Sam says.
“Maybe I was. Be careful.”
Without further ado, Fr. Moses heads to the ominous-looking junk yard that is made even more eerie by the waning sun light as it sets over the horizon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Fr. Moses Jones walks to the main gate leading to the worn-down warehouse, built in the middle of a vast lot. The main structure of the warehouse is built in the center of the land with smaller structures surrounding it. These smaller buildings are in bad shape, almost falling apart. A barbed wire fence protects the entire premises. Unlike the rest of the place, the barbed wire fence appears to have been erected recently. There is only one gate into the premises, and he’s heading towards it.
Fr. Moses scans the area carefully since he knows they must be watching him. A minor movement up on the second level of the main warehouse, about one hundred meters away grabs his attention. He squints at the window in which he noticed the movement. He can make out a small security camera panning around and monitoring the area. It stops in the middle of the pan and returns back to point at Fr. Moses. He has peaked someone’s curiosity for sure by now. Let the fun begin. Soon enough he’ll have four or five trigger happy guys on him. None particularly excited to see him.
Despite the imminent danger he senses, he continues to give off an air of confidence, as if he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. But he knows how these people think and that makes him nervous. For crying out loud this was his life not too long ago, before he found God, or before God found him. Most of these gang recruits are kids. They are no more than eighteen years old, so their judgment is questionable. Their leaders believe in recruiting young. Homeless, orphaned and starving make easy pickings. For the first time in their lives they have food, a decent place to live and can feel they belong somewhere. It doesn’t take much to convince a desperate person to commit horrendous acts. He knows because he had recruited a few before, both girls and boys. Each of their faces still seared in his conscience.
A few yards separate Fr. Moses from the gate. As he expected three young men, armed to the teeth, materialize out of nowhere.
“What do you want, old man?” says the one who appears to be their leader, a tall, dark skinned, stocky man. The other two already have their guns aimed at him.
“Sorry, I’m looking for someone, would you be able to help me?” Fr. Moses initiates his part of the plan.
“Do we look like social workers? Get lost, priest.”
“Please, it’s not going to take long. She’s about five-eight, blond hair, blue eyes. Have you seen her around?”
Fr. Moses hopes to keep their interest by giving them an accurate description of Allison. And he gets the reaction he is looking for.
“Wait here,” the leader says and walks a few feet away until he’s out of Fr. Moses’ earshot. He takes out a communication device and talks into it. Fr. Moses judges that the man is talking with his superior due to the humble expression painted on his face; or rather a fearful expression. Fear is a powerful motivator. A moment later the man walks back. “Yeah we heard’o her. Just you hold on a minute while we fetch her for ya.”
“Oh great thanks. Really appreciate it,” Fr. Moses smiles an innocent smile. “So you young men go to church?”
They look at him as if he is a retard.
CHAPTER FORTY
Samantha Stone remains hidden behind a few wooden crates littering the street, watching Fr. Moses talk to the thugs. She had already noted how the priest noticed something in the main building. When she followed his eye-line she saw the monitoring camera. A few quick snaps of the building with her phone, equipped with a two-hundred millimeter camera don't reveal any other monitoring devices. And that camera which Fr. Moses saw is still pointed at him. This is the ideal time to make her incursion.
Sam takes off her jacket and her blouse, revealing her black tank-top. The chilly weather causes goose bumps all over her toned arms. She shivers, but soon enough the adrenaline pumping through her veins will warm her up.
There is about a two-hundred meter gap between her and the barbed wire. She can cover the distance in twenty-five seconds flat. That is twenty-five seconds with no cover. Easy picking for a sniper. She closes her eyes and says a quick prayer asking for God’s help. It’s at times of great distress, like these, that the idea of a God who’s looking out for her, seems most appealing. But God never promised He will quench the fire but rather He will be with her through the fire and that is what she needs.
Around her right hand Sam wraps her jacket and around her left her blouse. She then bursts into a sprint, heading towards a specific location where a few crates are stacked on top of each other beside the fence. She can use these to propel herself over the fence. Exactly twenty-five seconds later she reaches the crates. Her speed and momentum help her climb the crates and leap over the half meter gap between the crates and the fence. The blouse and jacket around her hands prevent the barbed wire from causing deep gashes in her flesh. But she doesn’t escape unharmed. After a few moments of struggling, Sam lands on the other side of the fence, with various cuts on her arms. She crouches down, watching to see if anyone noticed her. One of the smaller worn-down buildings now block her view of Fr. Moses.
Sam puts her cloths back on and maps out a path through the maze of old cars. Some are missing hoods, engines, roofs. The cars make a good cover for her as she draws near the building. There is a partially open door which used to be part of a loading dock that is in complete chaos now, as if a bomb exploded there. The walls are falling apart, revealing the steal supports keeping the building upright. Old vomit stench overwhelms her sense of smell. She puts her hands over her mouth and nose as she climbs up the stairs. The doors open up into a large abandoned factory floor. A layer of dust and dirt cover the many machines she is able to make out. It seems they haven't been used in years.
Sam walks up to one of them and examines it. A touch screen interface glows bright after Sam brushes off the layer of dust covering it. It’s still active. She knows this machine. It’s a two-door metallizer car parts vacuum coating machine. Funny she would recall this piece of information from her childhood. Her father used to work in a factory and he had taken her to his job only once. He showed her one of these machines and explained to her how it works.
Sam pulls back from the memory and focuses on the task at hand. Voices arguing and laughing echo off the walls of the factory. One particular laugh sounds familiar. It’s the same crazy laugh she heard in Fr. Moses’ office a couple of days ago. So that’s how Fr. Moses seems to know so much about these people. He is somehow connected. Sam, feels uneasy. Is he plotting against her? Are they waiting for her to show up and then kill her? She should have never trusted him.
Second guessing herself is not helping, Sam finally decides. She’ll just move ahead as planned and deal with the turn of events as they come. She weaves through the different machinery and robotic arms until she’s close enough to see what’s going on. A few pieces of equipment obstruct her view but she can see Allison working on a computer with Hester standing over her shoulder and Butch to her left. They are making sure Allison gives them what they want this time. Further to the left is the crazy-laugh-guy leaning on a big machine watching something on his phone. The machine he leans on is composed of two metal plates and a hydraulic system designed to press the two metal plates together giving a predefined shape to an inserted metal sheet. A robotic arm extends from it. Sam guesses it's there to move metal sheets from a currently non-existent stack to a place on the bottom plate of the machine.
The crazy-laugh-guy emits his crazy laugh every few moments as he watches his comedy show or whatever is so amusing on his phone. The sound of his laugh is starting to annoy Sam, who doesn’t seem to be the only one. Butch, the vicious looking man, keeps throwing looks of disdain in his direction. It’s clear Butch doesn’t think much of him, either.
Sam notices movement to her right and she re-positions herself to remain out of sight. Two other guys, armed with semi automatic weapons talk in hushed tones. Their weapons are lowered, not expecting any surprises. Five to one are not good odds at all. There has to be a way to even the odds. She can take on Hester no problem but Butch is doubtful. Put another three armed guys into the mix and she can start planning her funeral. What leverage can she use? Sam looks around her at all the machines and thinks, what if all these machines suddenly turned on? The robotic arms will start to move around, and who knows what kind of havoc this would create. The trick is going to be starting all the machines at once. Sam looks around and notices a control room up on the second floor. It is separated by a glass window which allows the occupiers of the control room to observe the factory floor. Sam decides this is her best shot at rescuing Allison.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Kylan Jones weaves through the junk yard as she heads towards the checkpoint gate. She feels a raindrop on her cheeks and looks up at a dark and cloudy sky. Rain is coming. She would like to be at the safe zone before all hell breaks loose. This entire area is declared a flood zone and they are in the middle of flood season during which this area could experience more than twenty flash floods due to its low altitude.
Kylan is now within eye shot of the guards who had called her. Something about a priest asking for Allison. How the hell does a priest come around these areas? Is he going around preaching the good word? What a fool. Kylan sees an older blond man in a black robe talking with her guards. He has his back to her, but she’s now close enough to make out his words.
“Jesus had to come down to earth,” the priest preaches, “because the problem wasn’t just a matter of disobedience, but in fact human nature had been infected by death. Mere forgiveness can not heal such a disease. God had to create a new nature for us. One that can overcome death. That meant he had to take our nature, and give us his nature, one that can overcome death introduced by…”
“What do you want?” Kylan interrupts.
The priest starts to turn toward her. It takes her brain a moment to register who this man is. Then another moment for this realization to reveal itself in the expressions on her face. Feelings of remorse, longing and betrayal churn through her heart, knotting up her stomach.
“Ben?” Kylan manages to get out, trying her best to bottle up these emotions and appear as steady as possible in front of her men. “What are you doing here?”
Kylan sees that Ben is just as surprised as she is. Meeting her of all people, was the last thing he expected.
“Kylan?” Ben almost chokes on the word.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Kylan starts to regain her composure. “Leave.”
“I can’t. You have Allison. I’d like her back.”
“That is none of your business, priest.”
Ben is a priest? Kylan thinks to herself. How the hell did that happen?
Kylan recalls a memory.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Ten Years Ago
A seventeen year-old Kylan walked out of a club with a group of her girlfriends dressed in a revealing blue dress. It sparkled under the city lights. Kylan and her girl-friends were all drunk. They laughed, yelled and stumbled around, trying to flag a taxi down. The streets were empty at two in the morning. A homeless man walked on the other side of the club pushing a shopping cart with his belongings. The sound of the wheels scrapping against the concrete sidewalk mixed with the muffled music from the club.
Out of the entire group Kylan stood out. Standing at almost six feet, two inches tall with her high heals, she towered over everyone. Her sparkling dress fit tightly over her athletic form. It showed her curves, not leaving much to the imagination.
“Yo, how you girls doin’?” A tall muscular young man swung around and got in the group’s way, but he was eyeing Kylan in particular. In fact he didn’t even wait for any of them to respond. He headed right for her.
“Why don’t you come back to my place?” He asked Kylan, getting close to her.
Kylan laughed and shoved past him. But before she could get too far, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him pressing his body against hers. Without warning he kissed her; a forceful, ugly kiss.
He appeared confident Kylan would submit to him. He didn’t expect her knee to nail him right in the groin. But it did and he fell down to his knees, holding his groin, moaning in pain. Before he could recover Kylan reached her right hand into her purse and when she took it out, it was adorned with brass knuckles.
The guy only caught a split second glimpse of Kylan’s fist head to his face and on impact there was loud crunching noise as his nose broke. He fell to the ground and spat blood and a tooth. Kylan didn’t give him a chance to recover, all signs of drunkenness long gone. She pounced on him and hammered him with three consecutive punches right to his face, leaving it bloody and mangled.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” She said in a hushed tone. He was barely able to look at her, his eyes glazing over, about to fall unconscious. She shook him awake. His eyes fluttered open. “Now, now, we haven’t finished our chat yet, asshole. You seriously don’t remember me do you? How many girls did you rape exactly? You don’t even remember their faces?”
Kylan drew back her arm for another swing, but someone reached and held her arm back, preventing what could be a fatal blow. She looked back, rage clouding her judgment, ready for a fight.
“Whoa,” It was a much younger Ben, definitely not a priest. He wore casual jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. “I think he had enough. You don’t want to be charged for his murder.”
Kylan considered this for a moment then released the guy, allowing him to collapse and wallow in his blood. She got up, still staring at the collapsed, would-be raper. This was her plan all along. After he raped her a year ago, she determined to take vengeance on him. She trained, learned how to fight, tracked him down and staged this whole scene for his benefit, to lure him in and have a good reason to take him out. She spat on him.
“I’m impressed,” Ben said.
“What do you want?” Kylan looked at him, her rage still quiet pronounced.
While Kylan's attention was on Ben the guy she beat silly reached for a gun. He drew it and aimed it at her, but he didn’t have a chance to discharge it. Ben disarmed him with a quick, feisty kick to the arm. A calculated punch to the face sent him to oblivion. Ben turns back to Kylan without breaking a sweat.
“Well, I’m thinking someone with your skills can get whatever she wants,” Ben said.
Kylan didn’t understand what he meant at the time, but she would later on. Ben would introduce her to Reaver. From there her assignments would get darker and more dangerous. The more dangerous the jobs she had to do, the bigger the rewards would get. Before she knew it she was basking in money. Although she had to maintain a low profile, she had everything she ever wanted. But all this wealth came with a hefty price. She would never be able to leave Reaver while she was still alive. However, that was a price she was more than happy to pay. She finally had what she wanted and it wasn’t money. It was power. No one dared to cross her path. They’d better think twice before doing so.
Over the years Ben had changed, however. He kept warning her the path she was on was going to end up bad for her. She didn’t understand why the hell he changed. He was the one who got her in with Reaver in the first place. From that point forward Kylan climbed the corporate ladder until she secured her place as Reaver’s right hand person. She would never risk that. Ben was now under her authority, but he wasn’t like the rest of her goons. Funny thing was he always operated under a specific moral code. He would go as far as disobeying a direct order if it meant it would compromise that moral code. It wasn’t a high standard by any means. He still muscled people and forced them to pay up, or give up information or whatever he was hired to do. On occasions he would eliminate specific targets. At least that was what Kylan thought, until by pure accident she found out in fact he didn’t.
Kylan headed for a meeting with Reaver at his house. His house was ordinary-looking from the outside. But it was a secure fortress from the inside, equipped with the latest security gadgets. Four well armed bodyguards lived there. Their sole job was to protect Reaver. The bodyguard ushered Kylan through a side entrance to a room separated from the living area by a one way mirror. She could see into the living room, but those in the living room couldn’t see her.
In the living room there was a man handcuffed to a chair while Reaver and Ben stood in front of him. Reaver had a mean looking Colt Diamondback pistol in his hand.
“I thought you had passed,” Reaver addressed the handcuffed man. The man’s expression said it all. Terrified. “Imagine my surprise when I ran into you.”
Reaver turned to Ben. “Kylan even sent one of my best men to finish the job. What happened Ben?”
Ben and Reaver were both close in age, about twenty years older than Kylan. For some reason Kylan always thought they started this organization together. This seemed like a natural conclusion to draw since Ben never seemed afraid of Reaver, like everyone else was. And he didn’t show any fear at this moment either.
“He doesn’t need to die,” Ben said. His voice void of any emotions.
“It’s all about contracts, Ben. We had a paid contract and we have to fulfill it, or else how could clients trust us anymore?”
“The client doesn’t ever have to know.”
Reaver slumped his shoulders and dropped his head, exhaling loudly as he did. Then he shook his head as he looked back up at Ben.
“You and I,” Reaver started, pointing with his gun instead of his index finger. “You and I, we have different work ethics. It doesn’t matter if the client knows, Ben. It doesn’t. You know why? Because I’ll know. I’ll know I gave an order and it wasn’t carried out. How can anything get done then?”
Reaver leveled his gun at the handcuffed man and shot him right in the head. The massive bullet blew his brains out, scattering it all over the mirror Kylan looked through. She staggered backwards. The blood and gore obstructed her view. But she could still hear Reaver.
“Oh man,” Reaver said. “Now we have to clean all this crap up. You know Ben, if you were anyone else, I would kill you without blinking an eye, but alas… It’s you. Just get out, and watch your back.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Present Day
Kylan pulls herself back from the memory and focuses on the priest.
“This is your last chance,” Kylan says. “Leave and I’ll forget this ever happened.”
“That’s not going to happen, Kylan,” the priest, Ben, or whatever his name is now, regains his composure.
For a moment Kylan hesitates. She hasn’t experienced this indecisiveness in a long time. It’s because of all these emotions this man stirs up in her. They share a history that is too long to remember now. A history which ended tragically and took a lot of effort to put behind her. There is no time for this agitation. It’s time for action.
“Take him,” Kylan orders her goons. They seize him and follow her back in.
“Listen, Kylan, I know you have no reason to trust me. But what you’re doing to this girl is wrong.”
“Are you going to preach to me, father?” Kylan says. “How the hell do you become a priest? What kinda scam are you pulling?”
Kylan glances back and sees that he’s actually quiet calm; a smile, albeit a sad one, plays on his lips.
“What are you smiling at?” Kylan asks.
“I just think you’re right. How does a man like me repent. But that shows you, if I can do it, it can’t be far from anyone.”
“Oh, father, forgive me for I have sinned,” Kylan says and laughs out loud. “Or I’m going to sin. I’m gonna have to kill you. You know how the game is played.”
“Do whatever you want with me. I probably deserve it and I’ve had it coming for a while now, but let Allison go. She has her whole life ahead of her.”
“Oh how noble of you. Sacrificing yourself for the poor helpless girl. What a great example to us all. But who said anything about killing Allison? We still need her, even if it’s for a little while longer, but you… I’m sorry to say, you’re expendable.”
“It’s my fault,” Ben says almost to himself.
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, priest.”
“If I never got you in with Reaver,” Ben continues ignoring Kylan’s interjection. “You wouldn’t be here now.”
Kylan stops and faces Ben.
“And where would I be? Lying in a gutter somewhere,” there is an unmistakable intensity in Kylan’s tone. “Reaver saved me. He showed me that I don’t have to be a victim. Unlike what you guys say… Oh yeah, turn the other cheek?”
Kylan slaps Ben, and immediately she feels guilt. Guilt? What the hell? Since when does she feel guilty about anything? Then the priest does something that makes her heart turn within her; she feels a myriad of emotions, from anger, to compunction and self-loathing. She can’t identify exactly which emotion dominates when the priest indeed turns the other cheek.
“Weakness,” She manages to get out, but that doesn’t convince even her. “This is a sign of weakness.”
“Maybe it is, but the weakness of God is stronger than men.”
Kylan stares at him, unable to understand what he means. The weakness of God? She gestures for her goons to follow her. And they keep on walking back to the factory.
As they get closer Kylan hears the distinct noise of machinery. Like puzzle pieces coming together, the full picture falls into place. It’s all part of a ploy. The priest must not be alone. He is the diversion. Kylan breaks into a sprint, covering the rest of the distance to the factory in less than a minute.
Inside, the machines are churning, loud, robotic arms flailing around, possessed. The whole situation is dangerous. She is careful as she walks through the factory floor, avoiding the swinging robotic arms. One wrong step and one of these robotic arms can hit her and crush her skull.
Kylan hears gun fire. She hurries to where Allison, Hester and Butch are. But when she arrives, it’s clear that everything has gone to hell. Two of her watchdogs are down, one looks like he’s dead from a gunshot wound to his chest and the other is losing blood. Butch is unconscious with a bloody face, but is still breathing. Hester is engaged in hand to hand combat with a woman. Allison fumbles with a gun, staring at something just outside Kylan's field of vision. Kylan follows her gaze and sees Sherman down with a fatal gunshot to the chest.
Kylan feels like she’s been played for a fool. An all familiar rage starts to boil through her. Rage which demands that someone pay for this. Ben’s appearance wasn’t a coincidence. It’s a planned attack to retrieve Allison. She takes out her gun and grabs Ben by the neck dragging him into the middle of the raging battle. She fires her gun in the air to get everyone’s attention, and then levels it at Ben’s head.
“Enough,” Kylan yells.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Samantha Stone is quiet upset. Things didn’t go as planned. These deaths were not what she wanted. Things exploded into chaos and before she knew it shots were fired. These idiots were hardly trained and ended up catching each other in the crossfire. But currently her full attention is focused at keeping Hester’s gun away from her and Allison. She has his gun arm held up high with one hand, while exchanging punches with the other.
A shot echoes through the place. Sam catches a glimpse of Kylan holding Fr. Moses hostage.
“Enough,” Sam hears Kylan yell.
The gunshot and Kylan’s arrival is enough to distract Hester for a moment. Sam takes advantage, bringing his wrist down to meet her knee going in the opposite direction. The impact is painful enough forcing the gun out of his hand. It lands beside Sam’s foot. She inserts the tip of her foot under the gun and flicks it up in the air. It rises to shoulder height and Sam grabs it in mid flight. She aims it at Hester’s head, using him as a shield between her and Kylan.
“Who are you?” Kylan asks. Sam knows her presence has upset Kylan’s plans.
“Let Allison go,” Sam demands.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to demand anything.”
“I would disagree,” Sam says and takes out Hester’s phone, while keeping her gun aimed at his head. “Do you recognize this?”
Hester catches a glimpse of his phone.
“I uploaded all it’s content to the cloud. Let us go and I won’t send it to the police.”
Kylan smiles. A cold smile. Sam doesn’t like it one bit.
I made a mistake, Sam thinks. She doesn’t care if this data makes it to the police. Those guys might already own the police.
Sam sees it in Kylan’s eyes first; a determination not to let her live. A split second later she registers how Kylan’s gun moves ever so slightly as she squeezes the trigger. The bullet travels a short distance and lodges itself in Fr. Moses’ shoulder. He staggers backwards struggling to take in his breath, before he stumbles to the ground and holds his injured shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers.
Kylan aims the gun at Sam and fires a few quick rounds at her. Most of them hit Hester. The impact propels him backwards pushing Sam against the live machine that compresses metal. Kylan is sacrificing her men to get at her. She's crazy. Sam pushes Hester’s limp body off of her, and jumps away from the metal plate as it comes slamming down. Without a second thought, Sam aims at Kylan and fires, but round after round misses its target as Kylan dives behind a bulky piece of equipment. The bullets eliminate one of Kylan’s bodyguards instead. The other panics and prepares to fire, but his safety is on.
They are just kids, Sam thinks. Damn it.
Allison is frozen and Sam has to push her to move.
“Go,” Sam orders.
Sam continues to fire in the bodyguard’s direction and kills the second one before she's out of bullets. She throws her gun away and takes the one Allison holds, as they continue towards the fallen Fr. Moses.
“Can you walk?” Sam asks Fr. Moses, but she doesn’t wait for him to answer. She urges him up, and he obeys, getting up with difficulty.
“That way,” Sam points at a possible path through the maze of machinery. They head in that direction, but they are a slow group with Fr. Moses wounded and staggering, and Allison unable to contain her fear. Sam tries her best to keep them together. Then Kylan appears right in front of them blocking their path. Sam immediately forces Allison down and jumps in front of Fr. Moses, guns blazing, bullets flying. This forces Kylan to take cover, long enough for Sam to push both Fr. Moses and Allison to temporary safety. They are both helpless without her.
A few more bullets ricochet off the machines, sending bits and pieces of metal, plastic and glass in all directions. Sam emerges and fires in Kylan’s general direction. They take turns exchanging fire until both run out of bullets. Kylan makes her first move. She abandons her stronghold, tosses her gun to the side and heads at Sam. Sam assesses Kylan’s speed against her own; Kylan’s fighting skills against hers. It’s going to be a close one. Sam takes Kylan’s challenge and walks to her picking up speed as she goes.
Impact.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Kylan Jones watches Sam head at her, fists clenched, ready for a fight. Who does she think she is? How dare she come into her world and fuck it up? She will pay for her transgressions. Kylan channels the overflowing rage to her muscles. Contact. Fists fly. Kicks swish as some make contact and some are avoided. Kylan has met a worthy opponent. The fight moves them in between the machines increasing the risk of a fatal impact with one of these robotic arms and indeed Kylan notices a formidable metal arm swing her way. She dives to the ground avoiding it. When she’s back on her feet, she has to react quickly to block Sam’s attack. Kylan falters backward and loses her balance. To her horror, the edge of her long coat gets tangled up in a mechanical track. In a matter of seconds the force of the track pulls her closer to a rotating saw, designed to slice through metal. Now it will slice through her. She struggles desperately, trying to take off her coat, but she is not going to be fast enough.
Kylan looks at Sam who’s backing away from her. Damn her. Damn her to hell.
Sparks fly. A loud grinding noise, and the mechanical track comes to a halt.
Kylan frees herself and collapses to the ground. Towering over her is Fr. Moses holding a thick metallic pole, roughly two feet long. For a moment Kylan thinks he’s going to impale her. She knew it. Once a killer always a killer. But then the mangled pole draws her attention and she pieces it together. He used the pole to stop the circular saw. Their eyes meet and again she feels guilt overpowering her. He saved her life. She shot him and he saved her life. But if she wanted him dead she could’ve just blew his brains out. But she didn’t. Now that she thinks back about it, why did she spare his life?
Fr. Moses lets the pole fall to the ground as Sam ushers him away. Kylan watches the trio get away through a haze of anger and confusion.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Samantha Stone pushes Fr. Moses and Allison ahead of her. She is certain that they don’t have much time. The cavalry will soon arrive. What form it will take, she is not sure. But one thing is for certain, She, Fr. Moses and Allison won’t survive the next encounter.
An SUV is parked on the pathway that leads directly to the checkpoint gate, about five hundred meters away. Unlike the rest of the cars in this junk yard, this one seems like it’s good to go, representing the only chance to get out of here alive.
“This way,” Sam orders, changing the group’s direction.
They get to the car and Sam expands her baton and smashes the passenger side window. She reaches inside and unlocks the doors.
“Get in,” she says as she opens the back door.
Fr. Moses and Allison obey and get into the back seat. Sam shuts the door behind them and jumps in the driver seat, hoping that she’ll be able to hot-wire the car.
A few bullets puncture the side of the car.
This day just keeps getting better, Sam thinks. I need a diversion.
Sam swings the door open and it catches a few of the flying bullets. The reflection in the side mirror shows another nervous guard aiming a sub-machine gun at the car in anticipation. He is trying to decide what do do next. Sam uses this moment of hesitation and leaps out of the car, lightning speed.
Need to be a moving target, Sam thinks as she rolls on the ground.
The guard wavers between aiming the gun at her and at the car. For all he knows there is a better armed person inside, representing a greater danger to his safety. This split second of indecisiveness is all the time Sam needs. Once she’s on her feet again, a mere three feet away from the guard, she hurls her baton at him like a spear. The baton slams in his face with such force that he goes down like a sack of potatoes, bloodied. Sam takes his semi-automatic weapon and searches his pocket until she finds a set of keys.
The car beeps when Sam presses the unlock button. Back in the driver seat, she turns on the ignition and floors it. The car jumps forward with a powerful roar. Within a few seconds it crashes through the fence gate, sending them flying.
Sam looks at the rear view mirror but there are no pursuers. She knows better, though. Rule of thumb is, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And true to the saying, it starts raining. The intensity of the rain grows by the minute. The light of the sun is almost completely extinguished. Under the cover of darkness and the threat of flash floods, their chances of survival decrease with every passing moment.
“Sam, we need to get to higher ground,” Fr. Moses urges her. “This whole area is a floodplain and we’re smack in the middle of flood season.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Sam responds in as calm a tone as she can muster. “There is only one road out of here and I’m on it.”
Sam looks back and sees Allison staring at nothing; in shock. A stab of guilt pierces through her heart. Sam was the one who gave Allison the gun. Allison has no experience wielding a weapon. She even objected when Sam gave it to her, but there was no one else. When all hell broke loose, Allison panicked and fired the gun by mistake, nailing the professor in the chest. He’s dead. Sam knows what it’s like to kill another human being; a part of your humanity dies with that person. It’s not something that she would want anyone to go through.
“Talk to her, fa…” But before Sam could finish her sentence she notices an army issue Humvee round a bend in the road less than a kilometer ahead of them. It turns and blocks their way. What’s the army doing here?
Sam slows down, and leans forward focusing on the activity taking place up ahead. Four soldiers in full army gear, carrying standard issue 9mm sub-machine guns get out of the car. Sam stares in disbelief as they take aim at them.
“What are they doing?” Sam says as she slams on the breaks, turning the steering wheel sharply. The car does a 180 degree turn and drives full speed in the opposite direction.
“That’s the wrong way,” Fr. Moses says. “You’re heading deeper into the floodplain.”
Sam careens forward to get a look at the sky. The out-pour is showing no signs of abating. This is not good. But things soon go from bad to worse.
A helicopter flies so close over them, that the roar of its engine rattles the car. It flies ahead of them and then starts to land blocking their way. Sam slams on the break to avoid smashing into it. Who are these people? They own the army? Have a helicopter? Sam is definitely out maneuvered.
Two men in full tactical gear exit the helicopter, followed by Kylan and another man whom Sam couldn’t make out in the failing light and the wash the helicopter blade is creating. Kylan motions them to come out of the car. Sam looks at the machine gun she took from her attacker now laying on the passenger seat and struggles with a decision. Take the gun, shoot her way out of this and risk killing Allison and Fr. Moses in the crossfire. Or, give up and take her chances with Kylan. After all Fr. Moses just saved her life. Kylan would owe him a favor.
Sam sees two other guys all armed with sub-machine guns and equipped with the latest tactical gear, get out of the helicopter. Sam finally decides against the violent option.
“Good,” Fr. Moses says in relief.
She looks back at him puzzled.
“You looked like you were thinking of shooting your way out of this,” Fr. Moses explains. “I’m not a big fan of that approach.”
Sam doesn’t respond. The approaching army Humvee attracts her attention. It stops a few meters to their rear. They are now completely surrounded. When she promised to find Allison, this was not what she had in mind. Had she known, would she have still gone through with it? The question burns through her? Would she have avoided trouble, like she’s been avoiding it from the start? Or would she have reverted back to her original style of saving people? Whatever the answer is, now isn’t the time to dwell on it. The fact is, there is no way out of this situation, except through it.
“I think it’s about time for a miracle,” Sam says as she turns to Fr. Moses. “Wouldn’t you say, Father? Better pray hard for one.”
Sam is out of the car before Fr. Moses could reply; hands up above her head trying her best not to appear threatening. The water being sprayed by the Helicopter’s spinning blades combined with torrential the rain, soak Sam within a few seconds. The thumping sound of the rotating helicopter blade sends vibrations through her body. The two armed men spearheading the group have their guns aimed at her. The other two taking up the rear have their weapons ready. Kylan is in the middle with the other man standing in the protection of the soldiers. The demeanor of these men, the way they handle their weapons scream careered soldiers. Maybe mercenaries. Unlike the goons back at the factory. There is no way she can fight her way out of this.
“Smart choice,” Kylan starts.
“I’m all for diplomacy,” Sam responds.
Kylan laughs. “You have a strange way of being diplomatic.”
“To each their own, I guess. Listen, we don’t need anymore trouble. So…”
“Great,” Kylan cuts her off. “You don’t want trouble. We don’t want trouble. How about you give us Allison and you and the priest can go on your merry way,” Kylan looks up at the sky, “I wouldn’t want to be stuck here when the rain really starts coming down.”
“Allison is out of the question. Whatever business you have with her is over.”
“Ah, and you can demand this how?”
Kylan reaches for the man hidden behind the armed men and drags him in plain view; her gun aimed at his head. It takes a moment for Sam’s brain to register this turn of events.
It’s Daniel.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Samantha Stone can’t stop the flood of emotions which overwhelm her. She remembers how her father died alone. He suffered because of her unwillingness to give up, to recognize that she’s in over her head. It was not a mere kidnapping investigation. All the evidence pointed to something bigger. The way there was no solid leads, no suspects, no support from her precinct. It was clear that they were all bought off, but she refused to believe that and kept on pushing her limits, until it backfired. It was her pride, the need to show her superiority; to prove she could do a better job than all of her colleagues in the precinct. That’s why she insisted on keeping the investigation going. It wasn’t because she wanted justice. Not entirely. Selfishness. Self validation. That’s why. How childish of her. Since her childhood she has been struggling with her identity. There was never a time when she was content with who she was. The sense of belonging was never there. And so she did the only thing she knew how to do. Retaliate. Fight. Instead of accepting her circumstances and doing the best with them, she tried to change her circumstances to suit her. And it backfired. Every single time, it backfired and she never learned. She had to get kidnapped. Two years worth of memories wiped. Identity erased and all her acquaintances eradicated. Only then did she see how her selfishness was not only the cause of her own misery, but that of so many others.
But is this true now? Is Daniel in this situation because of her? She wasn’t the one who forced Allison to get involved with these people. She even kept her past from Daniel to avoid any possibility of hurting him. She accepted the risk of appearing cold and distant to protect him. He even thought she didn’t love him. But she did and still does. Oh, she loves him so much. He is the only one she has in this world, and now he is in grave danger. Her actions somehow have brought about this situation. It’s her fault. No matter how she spins it. It’s her fault. It must be.
Their eyes meet and Sam fights the urge to leap into his arms; to grab him and pull him away. This would be the worst thing she can do right now. Daniel appears confused. He doesn’t have a clue why Kylan kidnapped him, brought him here, threatened his life. But that’s not the only thing she sees in his eyes. He is telling her that it’s going to be okay; comforting her. Despite the situation, Sam smiles at him. For a moment, she blocks everything out. There is no Kylan, no armed people, no cars, no danger. It’s just Daniel and her. For a brief moment she is somehow able to communicate her love for him. Now he knows. Then the moment is over.
“You just shared a moment,” Kylan says. “That’s so sweet. So you guys have a thing for each other. This just keeps getting better.”
Kylan’s friendly expression dissipates and her face turns hard, cold.
“Allison!” She orders.
Sam thinks fast. The next few minutes can cost Daniel his life. But the decision is ripped away from her as the SUV’s car door opens, a faint, barely audible sound drowned in the noise of the helicopter’s engine.
“Allison, don’t,” Sam hears Fr. Moses’ voice yell at Allison.
Sam starts to turn around, and what she catches a glimpse of horrifies her. Allison holds the semi-automatic weapon, pointing it at Kylan.
“No,” Sam yells and reaches out for Allison in an attempt to take away the gun, but of course the distance separating them is too great and it’s too late. The bullets start flying.
Sam dives to the ground to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
“Don’t kill her,” Kylan orders her troops.
In the confusion, Daniel slips away and heads toward Allison. To Sam’s horror, he’s heading right into the crossfire. Sam springs to her feet and lunges for him, tackling him down to the ground. When she looks up again, she sees the soldiers from the Humvee fanning out and preparing to subdue Allison. The next few seconds are chaos.
Allison runs out of bullets.
Fr. Moses tackles one of the oncoming soldiers to protect Allison. The soldier smashes the butt of his gun into Fr. Moses’ face.
Two of the soldiers charge at Allison and take her down. She tries to fight them off to no avail.
Daniel leaves Sam’s side and rushes to his sister’s aid. But the soldier nearest him hammers him with the butt of his gun in the stomach, and follows it with another hit to the back of the head, knocking him down.
Sam takes out her baton and extends it as she also joins the fight, managing to disarm one of the soldiers, knocking him down. But when she attacks the second solider he blocks her baton with his gun, then he rips it out of her hand.
“Take her out,” Kylan gives the order to eliminate Sam.
The soldier takes aim.
Sam realizes there is no escape.
His finger squeezes the trigger.
A split second before the bullet exits the gun barrel, Sam glimpses from the periphery of her vision Daniel moving and placing himself in the path of the bullet. As Sam realizes what he’s doing, she tries to protest, to stop him, but everything is moving at lightning speed.
BANG.
The force of the impact propels Daniel backwards and he slams into Sam. Both fall to the ground.
Sam hears Allison’s hysterical screams, but she’s unable to do the same. There is no room for her to grieve. Instead, rage consumes all her being. It flows through her veins. It wants to burst out of her.
Sam gets up from under Daniel, his blood all over her. The sight of his limp body on the ground enrages her further. Then suddenly her emotions turn off, like flicking off a light switch. Something she doesn’t fully understand takes over her being as she turns to the soldier who shot Daniel.
He takes aim at Sam once more and this time he won't miss.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
What Fr. Moses witnesses Sam do in the next few seconds is beyond his capacity to comprehend.
Daniel has just sacrificed his life to save Sam, who went down under his weight. When she gets up, there is a strange halo emanating from her body, like a golden aura. She moves towards the soldier who shot Daniel. The soldier fires a few rounds at Sam, but they all ricochet off her without causing her any harm. The golden energy emanating from her body seems to create a protective field around her.
Sam grabs the barrel of the gun. On touching it, the soldier’s body goes stiff, convulses as if a thousand volts are going through his body frying his internal organs. He collapses motionless. Fr. Moses hears the Humvee’s engine rev to life and he looks over in its direction. Two soldiers are inside the Humvee, and the third controls the M2 Browning .50 machine gun mounted on the vehicle’s roof. He prepares to blow Sam out of this world. Before he squeezes the trigger, Sam cuts the distance between her and the Humvee in astonishing, almost non-human speed. Upon touching the hood of the Humvee, the engine roars. A visible electric current runs through the metallic shell of the Humvee like lightning strikes. The soldier manning the gun goes rigid and collapses. The one sitting in the passenger side looks like he's urging the driver to run Sam over. Even though the driver is complying the Humvee is not. Instead the Humvee reverses involuntarily and picks up speed. It goes off the paved road and smashes into a tree. Its momentum sends it flying, flipping and smashing around like a toy car. It comes to rest upside down. The bodies of the soldiers lay mangled and broken underneath the weight of the car.
Sam collapses and the golden aura disappears.
The thumping sound of the rotating helicopter blade grows louder. Fr. Moses looks over and sees the helicopter lifting off. It rises to an altitude of approximately fifty feet, hovers there for a second and then flies away.
The rain grows in intensity, threatening an imminent flash flood. Fr. Moses looks around for anything they can use as shelter. About a kilometer away is a set of worn down buildings which look like they withstood a few flash floods in the past. They are high enough that if Fr. Moses and Sam are able to make it to the roof of one of these buildings, they would be as safe as they could possibly hope to be under the circumstances.
Fr. Moses turns his attention back to Sam, and sees her crawling to Daniel. With the helicopter gone and the Humvee smashed beyond recognition, he could hear Sam’s sobs. Fr. Moses and Sam reach Daniel at about the same time. Daniel’s wound is still bleeding and his strength is fading. His breathing is shallow and irregular. A stab of pain causes him to cough out blood.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Samantha Stone can’t believe what happened over the past couple of minutes. An enormous amount of power flowed through her nerves, veins, every cell of her body. It was mind boggling. She couldn’t begin to explain how it happened. But she knew that seeing Daniel bleeding to death is what triggered it. And now she’s back by his side, the rage replaced with panic, grief, a broken heart.
Sam applies pressure to his chest wound, trying her best to stop the steady stream of blood pumping out of it, but there is no use. Daniel’s eyes flutter open.
“Daniel, Daniel,” Sam says, her voice choked with tears. “You’ll be alright. Just hold on.”
Daniel smiles weakly. “I was hoping to live long enough to get to know you better.”
“You will,” Sam’s tears flow, mixing with the rain, dripping on Daniel’s face. “I’ll get you to the hospital.”
Daniel looks at Sam, a look which speaks volumes. He tells her that he knows his time is up; that she has to be strong and shouldn’t lose faith. How can she not lose faith? The loss of her father and now Daniel is enough to destroy any amount of faith.
No, Daniel is not going to die, Sam thinks. I will save him. I must.
“Don’t give up on me,” Sam orders Daniel, then turns to Fr. Moses. “Help me get him into the car.”
Fr. Moses nods and they both carry him and place him in the back seat of the SUV, which is shot up, but still working. There is the loud noise of an on coming wall of water, as it smashes through the trees and heads downhill to their location. The sound is still distant, but it’s getting closer by the second.
“We don’t have time to make it out of here. We have to head for those buildings,” Fr. Moses points at the buildings he saw earlier.
“We have to get him to a hospital,” Sam responds, pushing back her grief and her tears. Breaking down now won’t help them.
“We’ll all be swept away. Our best chance is to stay ahead of the flood.”
Even though Sam’s instinct is to get Daniel to a hospital where they can give him a fighting chance, she knows Fr. Moses is right. The road out of the flood plain is long, at least twenty kilometers. They will never make it out of there before the flood hits. Sam gets in the driver seat and floors the gas heading in the direction of the buildings. She doesn’t bother taking the paved road, but drives right over the shoulder and onto an unpaved path that cuts through rugged land straight to the buildings.
“Hold on Daniel.”
They arrive at the strip of buildings. The wall of water lags behind them by less than five minutes.
Sam gets out of the car and swings around to help Fr. Moses get Daniel out. Daniel’s breathing is shallow and raspy. And Fr. Moses is so weak he’s only able to help Sam carry Daniel for a few feet before he collapses.
“Get up,” Sam orders. “Help me get him to the roof.”
Although Fr. Moses is pale and weak, he tries to obey, but then falls again, out of breath.
Daniel reaches for Sam’s hand and starts to say something, but she can’t hear him. She leans closer to him and he whispers something to her.
Sam’s emotional walls break down and tears flow again. She runs her hands through his hair and sings in a mournful voice the song that her dad taught her.
At the end of the rushing stream of time
When the keepers of the house shall tremble
And the daughters of music are distant with no rhyme
I will wait on your promises with faith and sound mind
Your breath to give me life and strength
To be dispensed to those that have no might
For your strength will renew every friend
We shall mount up with wings as eagles and soar
We shall run and not be weary
We shall walk and not faint
Daniel’s body goes limp. He’s dead. Sam leans over and puts her forehead to his, her tears showering his face.
“I’ll miss you,” She whispers.
Sam feels the mist of the approaching flood waters, but she’s too grief stricken to look up.
Fr. Moses lays his hand on Daniel’s head and starts to recite a prayer of reconciliation. “Graciously, O Lord, repose Daniel’s soul in the bosom of our holy fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Sustain him in a green pasture, by the water of rest, in the paradise of joy; the place out of which grief, sorrow and groaning have fled away, in your light and the light of your saints…”
The words which Fr. Moses prays infuses a glimmer of hope in Sam’s heart. The idea that Daniel and her father are not gone forever; that they are in a place of joy. A place where grief has fled away gives her a small measure of comfort, not for her sake, but for theirs. She knows her sense of loss will only grow with time. The love for her father and for Daniel will always be in her heart, and it will always hurt with longing whenever she remembers them. They were her family. They always will be. Daniel’s loss renews the injury inflicted on her soul when her dad was taken away from her. But she knows what both would tell her right at this moment. Don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. Have faith. Keep on going. Finish your course. And that’s what she must do.
As Fr. Moses continues to pray, Sam tugs at him, and helps him up. When he looks at her there are no more tears in her eyes, but an expression of determination. She intends to save him.
Sam supports his weight, urging him to move. They enter the building and go up the stairs.
The water crashes into the building and gushes through the doors and the windows. Sam keeps climbing up, not looking back. After tremendous effort they exit to the roof.
Sam collapses to the floor as she exhausts the last ounce of strength she had carrying Fr. Moses up four flights of stairs. But she has to cast a final look at Daniel, sweet, innocent, lovely Daniel. Sam manages to lift herself up and walk to the side of the building, tripping on the uneven floor, but gets up again. Finally, she pears over the edge and catches a final glimpse of Daniel’s body being swept away by the flood. The water level rises and covers the car, and about one floor of the building.
Sam buries her face in her hands and cries bitterly. She lost her father. She lost Daniel. She lost everyone she ever cared about. There is nothing left for her in this world. The darkness of despair and depression envelops her thoughts. There is no more meaning in life. She looks down at a gun she took from one of the soldiers and considers ending everything right at this moment. All it takes is one bullet, but Daniel’s last words stop her.
“Sam, don’t let my death destroy your faith. Fight for my memory; for Allison.”
End of Episode 1