4:02 am

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 4:02 am, September 10th, present year.

           I was shaken up. The water was fake in my dream, but felt real because of the sweat on my arms and forehead.

            Dad was sitting next to me with his arm around me. I had another glass of water in front of me, but I hadn’t touched it. Water was not what I needed.

            My “death” in this dream had been different than the last. I was stabbed last time, this time I drowned. One murder and one a lack of swimming skills? Since when couldn’t I swim? Swimming was one of my favorite things to do. Why did I suddenly lose my ability to keep myself at least afloat?

            My thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and in walked Hunter and Myrene.

            “Find anything?” Dad asked.

            Myrene answered, “The bullet we found was fired from a Glock 17 9mm. That type of firearm is not administered to anyone on our force, however it is still real easy to purchase. We’re running searches on Glocks that were bought within the last week in our zip code. Again though, it’s also more likely that our bad guy bought it illegally, which is nearly impossible to trace.”

            Hunter picked up from there. “As for the prisoner list, not much came up. Most of the detainees were common criminals, nothing severe on their record. And then we found two prisoners who were in the process of being transferred to a maximum security prison. A woman Terri Johnson, 51 years old, was found guilty of fraud and placed in prison a year ago. She then broke out and killed seven people in the next months. We only recently captured her here in Prackersburg. No one knows why she started killing after she escaped.” Hunter pulled out an 8 by 11 photo of Terri Johnson. “Our other convict, Brandon Damen. 29 years old, charged with breaking and entering, assault, and possession of illegal drugs. In other words, he robbed a bank, injuring the bank teller and the watch guard, and then used that money to buy marijuana, cocaine, heroin, and any other drug he could get his hands on. A drug addict on the highest level.” A picture of Brandon Damen was also displayed.

            Both pictures were on the table. I got up off the couch and sat down in front of them. Neither of the faces looked familiar.

            “Do either of their faces ring a bell?” Myrene questioned.

            I shook my head. I looked a Dad, and saw the same response.

            “Nope, don’t know them.”

            Hunter gathered up the photos and stuck them back into his folder.

            I thought of something. “Weren’t there any security cameras down there?”

            Myrene nodded. “Yes, but we were having maintenance done on them right before that.”

            “Where’s that maintenance man?” I asked.

            Myrene turned to Hunter. “Find that man.”

            Hunter left quickly, and Myrene addressed us. “You shouldn’t be here much longer. An hour at most.” Then she left again. 

*          *          *

            The figure was with the convict that he broke out. They were both sitting in the one room apartment the figure was renting for the 24 time period. Only one of the criminals meant anything to him. The other was just more problems for the police. The one with him was the woman. She was sitting on his right.

            The figure spoke. “It’s good to see you again.”

            Terri Johnson turned to face him. “It is. It has been a long time.”

            “Are you proud of me?”

            “I am.”

            There was silence. Then the figure leaned over and kissed the woman on the cheek.

            “I missed you Mother.”

            She held the figure’s head in her hands. “I’ve missed you too, son.”

*          *          *

            Myrene came back in only 15 minutes later. “I’ve been able to push things along, and you are now free to leave.”

            “What about our family’s safety?” Dad was worried still.

            “I’ve promoted an officer to Detective, and later tonight I’ll have her make hourly rounds by your house for the next hours. Her name is Sophie Richards. She’ll report anything unusual or suspicious straight to me, and if deemed necessary, action will be taken. If you see or hear or even suspect anything not right, call me at this number.” She handed Dad her business card. “It’s my direct cell phone number. Don’t hesitate to call it. Detective Hunter’s cell phone number is on the back. I hope this night goes without a problem, but you know how to contact me.” She shook Dad’s hand and mine, and then we followed her out.

            I trailed Dad to our car. 

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