Day Eighteen ∞ Monday
TWO FIRE UNITS ARRIVED to find furious flames devouring only two-thirds of the structure. Firemen rushed to save the office section, hosing down the boundary that appeared to keep the fire at bay. For an instant, the streams dispersed into a network of threads, then dissolved. Water sizzled as it made its targets, rising in clouds of smokey steam.
Nobody noticed the shimmer hovering for a few seconds over the parking area before it faded.
By the time dawn brightened the sky, the cooling down operation had reduced to patches of smoldering and a pile of tires spouting black smoke.
A policeman waved down the estate wagon as it rolled to a stop.
"This area is out of bounds, sir."
Aaron stuck out his head. "That's our garage!"
"Park over there." The officer pointed.
"Twenty-eight years...," Mr. Myers said, his voice rusty.
"That long?" Nathan asked from the backseat.
Aaron parked in the empty lot facing the activity surrounding the remains of their livelihood. For a while, the four sat in heavy silence, staring in disbelief. Then he glanced at Mr. Myers.
It was as if all the air had left his father. He'd never seen him look so old and tired.
He reached over to his father's shoulder.
"We'll be okay. We'll get through this," trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. He squeezed again.
Mr. Myers barely moved his head.
"Nathe, stay with Dad. Jason?"
Jason and Aaron walked across the road but halted when they saw exactly what was left of the auto shop.
Sheets of corrugated steel collapsed on and around the sedan Ray had started working on, a shell burned beyond recognition. Several pieces of charred machinery. Rubble everywhere. A few blackened columns and parts of a wall still standing.
The front of the container and cinderblock office and shop appeared untouched. What about the stockroom extension at the rear containing all the new inventory?
"I've got to tell Dad," Jason said.
Aaron nodded and walked to the cop.
"Who's in charge?" he asked.
"Sergeant Eldon over there. Keep to the road."
The sergeant was watching the scene as he leaned against his vehicle, smoking.
"Son, how's your old man holding up?" he said as he saw Aaron approaching.
Aaron shook his head. "He's taking it hard, man. Do you know how it started?"
"We haven't started investigation yet. But... it is all pointing to arson."
"What?" Aaron stared at him.
"I'm afraid so. But consider yourselves lucky." Eldon nodded toward the shop.
Aaron looked. Now he could see the rear of the shop, and he sighed in relief. It appeared intact.
The fire chief walked over to them, lifting off his helmet to wipe his brow. "We've never seen anything like it." He nodded at Aaron. "With that explosion, everything should've gone to smithereens. I can't explain why the building is still standing."
Eldon took the cigarette out of his mouth."But you maintain that this was an act of arson?"
"Yes, we've found the point of origin. It's pretty clear." The fire chief excused himself.
"I'll talk to your father." Eldon dropped a hand on Aaron's shoulder, and turned his attention to a man dressed in black leaving a black, unmarked car further down the road. "See that man?" He pointed with his cigarette. "He's from the ATF. He has some questions for you. I'll talk to you later." He patted Aaron and walked away before Aaron could question him.
The man in black strode over and flashed an identification badge at him. "Aaron Myers?" He had sweat beading at his temple.
"Yes?"
"ATF Special Agent Smith. I understand you're second-in-charge of this establishment. As this is an arson investigation, I have some questions for you. If you don't mind."
The man pulled out a notepad and pen and fired off questions. They were what Aaron expected, and he answered negatively about having enemies, gambling debts, outstanding loans, and dissatisfied customers.
"Disgruntled employees?"
"No. This is a family business."
"But you do have employees?"
"Well, yes, two. But—"
"Three," came Jason's voice from behind. He joined Aaron.
"Two or three?"
"It's two," Aaron said. "Mickmi's just helping out until we find a replacement."
"Three then. Names?"
"Ray Thompson, Danny McGahn, and Mickmi."
The man jotted the names down. "Last name?"
Aaron and Jason exchanged glances.
"We don't know," Aaron said.
"Ask Dad. Or ask Danny. He would know."
The man looked from one to the other with his penetrating gaze. "Have you had any problems with your employees—disagreements, altercations?"
Both brothers shook their heads.
"No," Aaron said.
"Perhaps harboring resentment?"
"Not a chance."
"How long have you had these employees?"
"Ray and Danny for several years now," Aaron said. "About five—"
"Six years," Jason said. "We were still in senior high when they started."
"So you know them well?"
"Yeah. I'd say so," Jason responded. "We graduated the same year."
"What about this"—the man looked at his notes—"Mick-mi?"
"She's been with us about two weeks," Aaron said.
"What do you know about her?"
"She's Danny's girlfriend."
"How long has she been his girlfriend?"
"A few weeks."
The man studied them. "What else do you know about her?"
"She's a sweet girl. That's what Mom would say."
"Yeah," Jason said.
"Where is she from?"
Aaron shook his head. "We don't know. Just that she's been staying at Danny's house."
"What do you know about her background?"
"Her background? Nothing, really." Aaron felt a twinge of unease at the direction of the questioning and how the man was eyeing them.
"She hasn't talked about herself," Jason offered. "She's a bit reserved... but she's not shy."
"She's a workaholic," Aaron added.
"She's got an accent. Her English is funny... Strange, I mean."
"Yeah, she's not American."
"So," the man jotted another note, "she could be an undocumented immigrant."
"We didn't say that," Aaron blurted, alarmed. "And she wouldn't have anything to do with this fire."
The man locked his gaze with Aaron. "You wouldn't know that, now would you? That's why I'm here to investigate. Now, have you noticed anything suspicious about her?"
"No. Absolutely not."
"There's nothing suspicious about her at all," Jason said. "She's just Mickmi."
Something occurred to Aaron. "I can tell you something suspicious happening lately. Somebody's been stalking her. In a black Dodge Aspen sedan. Maybe they did it." That should divert the man's focus from Mickmi. Aaron met Jason's gaze, knowing he'd broken a promise. But somehow he felt Danny wouldn't mind in this case. At least, he hoped so. If it could get rid of the stalker... If it would lead to the person responsible... He didn't doubt that man was capable of arson.
"Yeah," Jason said. "I saw him too."
The man turned to the next page and scribbled some more. "Who?"
"A man," Aaron responded. "There may have been two. But we saw this one at the Spectacular. Danny confronted him there."
"When?"
"Friday afternoon."
"Can you describe him?"
"Yes!" both of them answered, then exchanged glances. They took turns describing the man Danny had been so adamant about, relieved to unburden themselves of that secret.
The man nodded as he took notes. "Sounds like we might have something there." He looked up and eyed them as he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Well, that's it for now. Thank you, gentlemen. If I have more questions, I will let you know." He nodded at them and walked back to his car.
"Where's he from?" Jason asked. "He didn't look like a cop."
"ATF." Aaron frowned. Something about the man didn't feel right.
"ATF?" Jason echoed.
"Yeah... Alcohol Firearms something department. Said his name was Smith. Did you notice how he was sweating?"
"Yeah... That was..."
Jason trailed off as they watched the car roll by them. It was a Dodge Aspen with two other men in it.
"... weird. Is that... the same car?" he asked, as it accelerated past their estate wagon and left the industrial area.
As the car turned out of sight, Ray's red Charger appeared and slowed to a crawl. The brothers approached as it halted in front of Mr. Myers' car. Ray got out with his eyes and mouth wide in disbelief.
"Yeah... it's us," Aaron said and gave him the rundown of what they'd learned so far.
"Though I can't understand why they'd be so interested in Mickmi," Jason added.
"Maaan... What are you g-gonna do? How's the boss?"
Aaron shook his head and looked across Ray's car to the station wagon.
Ray jogged to Mr. Myers and spoke to him for a moment. Mr. Myers nodded and patted him on the shoulder.
"It's gonna be a helluva job," Aaron said when Ray returned. "Might take a couple of days before the investigators and whatnot will let us start, though. But we'll get it up and running again."
"C-count me in." Ray nodded and looked around. "Where's Danny?"
"Strange he hasn't turned up yet," Jason commented.
"We haven't had a chance to call him," Aaron said. "Could you tell him what's going on here? We'll call you guys when we're ready to start clearing up."
∞
The armored van took several turns. It was not long before Gina lost her sense of direction as she fixed her gaze on her mother's shackled hands holding hers. She couldn't bear to see the accusation in Phil's eyes. When they eventually picked up speed, she tried to focus. Based on the stretch of road, she guessed they were being taken either north or south.
Or west to Montgomery.
"'For without cause have they hid for me their net in a pit,'" Mother quoted, barely loud enough to be heard over the engine. "'Without cause have they digged a pit for my soul.'"
Gina sighed, leaned her head against her and sneaked a peek at Phil. He sat, eyes closed, with his head against the side panel. He had a growing welt on his cheekbone, and blood still trickled from a cut over his brow. She glanced at the two men inside the doors. Their shadowed faces remained hard and watchful. One had a swollen, cracked lip.
Serves you right. At least Phil had been able to give him some.
It felt like they had been traveling for at least an hour when the van slowed and took a sharp downhill turn. The timbre of the motor changed, echoing off walls. This must be their destination.
The doors opened up to a parking garage. The three were escorted in silence to an elevator which took them down a level. Other men took over when they entered a plain corridor. Gina found herself walking in the middle with one man behind her. Two escorted Phil ahead of her. She had passed several doors when she heard the unlocking of a door behind her.
"Is this about my son?" her mother said, her voice echoing down the passageway. "Where's my son?"
Gina looked over her shoulder as a man walked Mrs. McGahn through the door. There was a rattle of metal before the man returned carrying the handcuffs.
"I demand to see my—" The door slammed shut on her.
A shove in Gina's back got her moving again. Up ahead, Phil halted and looked at her as he waited for his guard to open a door.
"Keep calm, Georgie," he said. "Just do what they say."
She swallowed and nodded, thankful that he was still calling her Georgie. A hand on her shoulder stopped her, and her guard opened a door to a plain room with a table and two chairs. She stepped inside, and the guard removed her handcuffs and left, locking the door behind him.
Gina looked around, rubbing her wrists. She felt like she was in a sterile box. There were no windows except for a one-way glass on one wall. A metal box mounted in the above corner had a protruding lens. Another above the window appeared to house a speaker. Apart from ventilation slots near the ceiling and the fluorescent light embedded overhead, there was nothing else to see.
She ignored the bench and the chair and sank down in the far corner, hugging her knees.
What's happening, Danny?
It was not long before the tears started to run again. Zorro!
∞
—Zorro...
Ears twitched, the effort to respond did not make it past his throat.
—Zorro!
His ears peaked. Mistress was upset, calling. He tried to lift his head but it was too heavy. He managed to squeeze out a whine in response and open his eyes.
Mistress was nowhere within range, he could smell that now. Instead, he smelled blood, lots of blood. His own. He licked the floor, but he did not have the strength to clean it up. Relaxing, more scents came to him, scents of what had been. The scents of alarm and fear from his two female humans, mingled with the anger of his mistress's male friend. The scents of unknown humans, six threatening males made him growl weakly.
He made another effort, pushing with his paws, his elbow, past the pain in his chest. He got his head up, rotating his ears back and forth.
Silence.
No humans were here—not in the food room, not above, not anywhere in the human shelter. But he sensed the Presence. He recognized it from its interactions with his master and his new human female friend. It was a presence he recognized as friend but had not been introduced to. Nevertheless, he growled again. There was nothing else he could do.
—Lie down, Zorro. You must heal. Your humans depend on you.
Friend. He understood this friend wanted to help. With a whine, he allowed himself to fall back on his side, watching the energy body approach. A shimmering strand reached into him, into the pain in his chest. The gentle movement around the source of his pain, a hard object, was the last thing he felt before losing consciousness again.
∞
The pale crescent moon had crept into the bright, late morning sky in the east when Apocalypse strode in through the shield, heading straight for the ramp. Atlas stepped in front, blocking the way.
"Oh. So you're on the job now," Apocalypse said and halted. "Playing bodyguard? Go ahead."
He raised his arms as if bored, allowing Atlas to pat him down.
"Your cover," Atlas said.
Apocalypse handed over his cap, and Atlas squeezed it and checked the brim before returning it.
"He's clean," he said, stepping aside.
"Yeah, the bubble won't let me in with metal. But"—Apocalypse's eyes targeted Mickmi—"I don't need 'em."
Mickmi lifted a hand, indicating the entrance as the ship's hull opened. "You may enter," she said.
"Be advised. My men in Eufaula have the dipshit nobody's family. If I don't exit this ship within fifteen minutes, they'll get instructions to eliminate them with extreme prejudice."
The announcement hit Danny like a shockwave. He should have known their lives would be used as bargaining chips. He clenched his fists, glaring at Apocalypse climbing the ramp, followed by Atlas.
Keep it together, Danny. You can't lose it. God help him, he hated that man.
Mickmi turned to him as he forced himself to slow his breathing, swallowing several times.
"I – am – sorry, Daniel," she said, the sadness evident on her face. "I—"
He softened as he locked his gaze with hers. "Don't apologize, Mi. Nothing's gonna happen to them, okay? We're not letting it."
She rested her hand on his chest, her brow deeply contracted. "No matter what happens, Daniel... keep your distance." She paused as if she was going to say something else. Instead, she headed for the ramp.
"Huh?" —What are you talking about? Danny followed her up the slope. Mi? He stepped inside the ship just as Mickmi halted next to Atlas.
Apocalypse stood further in, looking around. "Interesting," he said, his tone disinterested. "There's nothing here. Unless that's part of the furniture," he added, indicating Atlas's seabag on the floor near the rear of the ship. "Where's the cockpit?"
Mickmi gestured toward the fore, but Atlas stopped her before she could move.
"With me, princess," he said. He walked beside her, keeping himself as a buffer to pass Apocalypse.
Danny stayed next to the entrance as it melded shut behind him, the sick feeling growing with the stone in his stomach. Sis must be so scared. And Mom... Is Phil with them?
He drew a deep breath, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind. He didn't want to distract Mickmi.
She hung her shawl on the operator seat that emerged from the floor and turned to stare at Danny as a holographic control panel display appeared behind her, her face still.
—What?
Her lips moved, a breath of a whisper touching his mind, —Here is no fear...
Before Danny could figure out whether he'd actually heard her or just imagined it, she took three brisk steps to stand between the two men. Atlas tried to push her aside but Apocalypse's hand shot out, grabbing her by the hair. He tugged her close and pressed a transparent blade against her neck. Atlas snatched out his pistol.
"Mickmi!" Danny shouted and rushed forward.
"Stay back!" Atlas held out his left hand as a stop sign, the other holding aim at Apocalypse. "What the fucking hell are you doing, princess? You—"
"Atlas," Mickmi said, her voice steady. Her head was twisted at an uncomfortable angle. "Put your weapon away." She lifted her hands in a calming gesture.
Danny's heart was in his throat. He didn't dare to verbalize what he wanted to shout, Let her go!
"Yeah, listen to her," Apocalypse said, baring his teeth. "Put it down." He stepped backward, pulling Mickmi with him.
Don't hurt her! Danny stared at Mickmi, a vague puzzlement creeping into his panic for her.
She didn't appear afraid.
Her eyes were fixed on Atlas as her expression grew intense. She held onto the hand threatening her neck and reached behind her head for the hand trapping her by her hair.
Danny couldn't believe she'd risk what she was doing. —Is that what you meant?
"Now," Apocalypse said. "Nice and easy."
Atlas pressed his lips together and complied.
"You know the routine."
Atlas kicked the weapon across the floor.
"That's a good boy."
Danny couldn't keep quiet anymore. "I thought you said he was clean," he blurted.
"It's easy to hide a shard of perspex," Apocalypse said before Atlas could respond. He kept his eyes on Atlas as he spoke into Mickmi's ear. "You will perform exactly what we have agreed. You will detail each step to me before you perform them, one by one. Anything that appears to be a deviation from what you describe, will be considered a threat. You have seen what I have outside. I also have more powerful air-to-ground Maverick missiles waiting for my word. And that's aside from your friend's family in Eufaula. Do you understand?"
"I know." She drew a long, deep breath and pushed it out slowly through her nose.
"You know? Well, I suggest you don't count on your 'shield' to— What the fuck are you doing?" Apocalypse said through his teeth as his face reddened. He forced Mickmi to bend back at a more awkward angle, and she spread her feet.
"Your mind—brain—has endured... much strain." Her forehead was glistening as she focused. "Under my Guide. You suffer from... serious side effects. And there is a... chronic pain—"
"Side effects?" The man shifted the makeshift blade, pressing its point into the flesh under her jaw. "I'll gut you if you don't stop. Right now."
"It can... not be stopped." She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. "Not as long as you – hold – me." Her face became serene as she released her grip, fine sparks jumping from her hands to Apocalypse before she dropped them, spreading her arms for balance.
"Please... Don't hurt her, she's just trying to help." No... Danny swallowed as crimson appeared at the tip of the blade.
"Listen," Atlas said, his voice urgent, "she is not initiating any threat here—I repeat—she's not initiating any threat. That heat you're feeling, it's healing you. She's a healer. That's one of her abilities." He took a careful step toward them.
The blade lifted away from Mickmi's neck into striking position as Apocalypse stepped back with her, keeping the distance. He squinted from one to the other with sweat beading on his brows, teeth bared.
No, no, no! Danny shook his head vehemently. Please!
— ∞ —
*Bible reference:
Psalms 35:7 [ASV]—"For without cause have they hid for me their net in a pit; Without cause have they digged a pit for my soul."
©2018 by kemorgan65