The Trouble With Bodyguards: Part 2 (9 page)

"He's not at the house," said Rick, pacing back and forth in front of the mahogany desk in her father's office. They had set up a command center here, and the detectives assigned to her case sat on the sofa against the wall, papers strewn on the coffee table before them. Her father sat behind the desk, wringing his hands in fear, weariness adding years to the lines on his already aging face.

"Where do you think he would go?" asked her father.

"I don't know," said Rick, throwing up his hands in frustration. "There's always been times where my brother had disappeared, sometimes for days at a time, and no one ever knew where it was that he went. I looked for him, searched everywhere that I thought that he would go, and never found him. He has a secret place, somewhere that he would feel safe that no one would ever be able to find him. We need to find that place."

"Rick," said one of the detectives, "you know your brother better than anyone."

Rick stopped, staring through the window, not seeing the world beyond the glass, but the idea that had sprung into his head. "I know my brother," he said, "the way that he was when we were kids. But I think that I might know someone who would know more about who he has become."

...

The same light flickered in the waiting room of the old hospital, just as before straining to illuminate this barren place with its dying light. Rick stood, pacing back and forth in front of the row of battered pleather chairs, the same chairs that had been here on that day when he and his parents had come to visit his brother in this horrible place so many years ago. The door behind the reception desk opened, the portal to the hell that was this place, and a nurse held it open for him to enter. "He's ready to see you now," said the nurse, standing aside as Rick stormed through the door. He knew the way, had traveled this hallway many times over the years, meeting with his brother's therapist after his parents were no longer around to keep things in order. It had been left to him, the care of his brother, and he had relied on this man for more help than he cared to admit.

He needed his help, now more than ever. He hoped and prayed that in the years of therapy, his brother may have revealed secrets to his doctors that would give them some clue as to where to look for him now. The door at the end of the hall with the name placard that Rick had grown so accustomed to that he would be able to describe the feel of the raised letters under the clammy pad of his index finger, stood slightly ajar as he approached. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he knocked softly on the aged wood of the door, pushing it further open and stepping inside the doctor's office.

He sat in the same chair he had always sat in, behind the old mahogany desk with the watermarks from years’ worth of untended coffee cups on the top of it at his right hand. He stood as Rick entered, offering a handshake in way of greeting. They had both known that someday this day would come, the day that they would need to combine their forces in order to stop his brother from harming someone else. They had hoped that it would never come to this, that between them they would be able to tame his brother's monsters, that they would be able to keep the situation under control.

"Thank you for seeing me," said Rick, setting himself down in the same chair he always sat in, and looked into the eyes of the only man that might be able to help him find Alex before it was too late.

"I only hope that I can be of some help," said the doctor. He removed his spectacles, setting them on the desk before him, and folded his hands.

"My brother has been coming to see you for years," said Rick. "Telling you his troubles, his dreams, his secrets. He has confided in you more than any other person on the planet. I'm hoping that you have some information that might give me a clue where to look for him now. As I told you on the phone, he has taken someone who is very dear to me, and I need to find him before he does something terrible."

"Rick," said the doctor, "I will tell you what I know. He never told me specifically where he went when he wanted to be alone, only vaguely talked of a place where no one could see him. It was always something that stood out to me with him, the fact that he always thought that everyone was watching his every move, that he thought that people could see into his very thoughts. Wherever this place is, it will have no windows. It will be far from people, out of the way, hidden from the eyes of passersby."

"When he was a teenager," said Rick, "he would disappear for days at a time. Did he ever talk about those times, where he would go?"

"He told me," the doctor hesitated, trying to remember exactly the words that had come from the mouth of the troubled young man so many years ago, "about walking, through the woods in the dark."

"There are woods surrounding the neighborhood where we grew up," said Rick. He pictured his youth, he and his brother cutting through the forest on the way to play baseball at the park with the other neighborhood kids, the afternoon soon slanting through the old growth trees, the dried leaves crunching underfoot.

"He talked of being able to see through the lit up windows of the houses that he passed by, comforted by the fact that he could see them going about their lives while he was out of sight. Then he would go to a place where there were no windows, where there was no light. 'Through the true darkness, to the safety on the other side.' That's what he said." The doctor looked to Rick, pulling himself from the memory of the deranged child, lost in his own world, afraid of the reality surrounding him, seeking solace in the darkness of his own mind.

"I just don't know," said Rick, standing up and pacing the room. "The true darkness, what does that mean?"

"That is all I know," said the doctor. "Like I said, he was never specific about his delusions, only speaking in vague riddles and puzzles. I did my best to help him to see that the threat was all in his head, that he didn't need to hide in the darkness. I'm so sorry that it has come to this, and that I am not more help."

"Thank you," said Rick, stepping toward the door. "Any information is helpful, in one way or another. I appreciate your time."

He walked out of the office, more confused and hopeless than when he had entered. Through the true darkness... Did his poor brother mean the darkness that was filling his mind more and more each day, or an actual place where no light could enter? Rick thought of the woods behind his family home, of the light filtering through the trees. His memories of that place had no darkness, only light.

He had to step into the mind of his brother, try and see the world through the eyes of madness in order to understand.

...

Sliding his arms beneath her, one under her back and the other supporting her legs, Jake lifted Alex, cradling her in his arms like a sleeping child, and held her body tightly against him. Carrying her, he crossed the room, headed for the open door. Her head rested against his shoulder, she was still unable to move, her eyes taking in the room around her that she was unable to see while she was prostrate on the table. There were no windows, and the walls seemed to be made of some sort of metal. Rivets could be seen where the large plates met each other on the walls. The door that he had come through seemed to be the only opening, the only entry or exit from this prison. He had cleaned her, then dressed her in a beautiful gown, simple yet stunning, dabbing her lips with red and putting up her hair. He carried her now to the other room, shifting gently to the side to keep her bare feet from hitting against the edge of the narrow doorway as they passed through it.

This next room was the same as the last, dim and dank, with only a single bulb in the ceiling to light the space. But instead of the table that she had been placed on, this room was set as a living space, a comfortable couch and chairs, bookshelves lining the walls. There was a counter along one wall, with an ancient refrigerator humming at one end. He carried her to the sofa, sitting her gently at the end, resting her bare feet upon a threadbare rug on the floor.

What was this place, she thought. Had he brought all of these things down here, created this space for her? She didn't think so, some of the things in here seemed as though they had been here forever.

"Isn't this more comfortable?" he asked, crossing to the counter, coming back a moment later with a tray filled with refreshments, as if they were having a social visit, a romantic evening together at his place. He lifted a glass of wine, placing it gently against her lower lip, tipping it slightly so that a small amount of wine whetted her lips. She didn't have the ability to open her mouth, or to swallow, and the wine dribbled down her chin and dripped onto her chest.

"Oh," he said, chuckling, "Musn't make a mess. Not when we took so much effort to get pretty. My mother, when we were young, would have us put on our best clothes on holidays, then worry over us all day, afraid that we were going to stain our best shirts." He lifted a white, linen napkin from the tray, dabbing at her chest where the wine had spilled, wiping her chin.

He stood, stepping across the room toward an old record player that was sitting on a table on the far end of the room. It had been several minutes since he had unhooked her IV and carried her into this room, and Alex could feel the effects of the drug that he had given her beginning to wear off. As he pulled a record from the shelf, slipping the disc from its cardboard sleeve and setting it gently on the turntable, Alex wiggled her fingers on her lap. She felt triumphant, as if there were finally hope after all.

Rick stood in the dark living room of the house he and his brother had shared growing up. He looked out the large windows facing the forest surrounding the house, now shrouded in the darkness of night, the full moon overhead the only illumination. He pulled the sliding glass door open, the cool night air filling his lungs as he stepped out onto the patio that ran along the back of the house. His mother had planted flowers on either side of the concrete slab, and when they were kids this area always seemed to be filled with explosions of color, of the laughter and gaiety of childhood. Now, as he stood here, surrounded by shadows, he found himself in a place unfamiliar to him. The flowers were long dead, shriveled stalks withered away in the dirt. There was no ringing of laughter, only the haunting whistle of the wind blowing high in the trees.

This was his brother's world, this land of night, of darkness and of secrecy. He needed to see the world through his brother's eyes, in order to understand the riddle that he had left behind. Rick stepped off the patio, crossing the lawn, unkempt and overgrown, and heading down the trail into the forest. He turned, the light spilling from the closest neighbor's windows and spreading across the lawn between the house and the woods. It seemed to be reaching for him, looking for him in the darkness. He could see them, the Edwards, sitting down in their armchairs, in front of their television set, unaware that he stood just beyond the light, watching them from the shadows. He wondered if this was where his brother had stood, if this was what he had described to the doctor. The normalcy of the reality inside the house, in the light, was so foreign to him that it was threatening, something that he must hide away from, here in the seclusion of the woods.

Rick turned, scanning the path ahead of him, leading him farther into the darkness. He could only see a few feet ahead of him, into the trees, but he rejected the idea of pulling out the flashlight that was in his pocket. He needed to see things as his brother had seen them. He needed to embrace the darkness.

...

Alex strained, all of her energy focused on willing her big toe to move again. She had been able to wiggle is slightly a few minutes ago, while he had his back turned, refilling his wine glass on the counter on the other side of the room. She kept her eyes trained on him, keeping up the illusion that she was enthralled with his words; all the while her entire being was focused on convincing her body that it wanted to be under her control again, starting with the smallest parts.

"We should run away together," he said, sipping at his wine. "I don't mean to a place like this," he continued, gesturing around the space, "I mean somewhere far away, where we can have some real privacy. Where we can start our lives together. I think that you and I were meant to be together, don't you?" He looked to her, smiling sweetly as she sat frozen on the sofa, her eyes trained on him. "Ever since the first time that I saw you, I knew it. The truths that you spoke in that interview, the way that you can see, really see the world as it is. Not the painted up image that they portray as reality, but what is really there. No one understands, you know, not like we do. They are all blind, all drawn into the false beauty of it all, lulled into a sense of security by the pretty pictures. No one can see the pain, the suffering in the world. Not like us."

He stood from his chair, crossing the space between them, and seated himself on the sofa next to her. Setting his wine glass down on the small table in front of them, he took her hand in his, caressing the backs of her fingers as he cradled them delicately. "I could see it," he said, smiling sweetly at her, "in your eyes." Reaching out, he placed his fingertips gently along the edge of her jaw, tilting her head toward him, and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

Alex's stomach lurched at his touch. Fear and revulsion flooded her bloodstream as he kissed her a second time, lingering there a moment to enjoy the taste of her mouth. His breath was hot on her face, and Alex feared that she would vomit, that her mouth would fill up, and that, being paralyzed, she would drown in her own sick.

"I love you," he whispered softly in her ear, his mouth close to the side of her face. "I have always loved you."

....

Tripping over a root growing up out of the ground in the middle of the path, Rick sprawled out in the dirt, scraping the palms of his hands over the rough ground. He could feel the skin on his palm split where it caught on a sharp rock embedded in the dirt, and he sat up on his haunches, pulling his flashlight from his pocket in order to assess the damage. Turning it on, the woods around him became a different place. The small pool of light emanating from the flashlight gave him comfort, serenity in this dark place. He checked on his hand, wiping away the blood and detritus from the forest floor with the hem of his shirt, finding that the cut was deep, but not enough to cause him to turn back before he was able to find Alex, and his brother. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, pressing it tightly against the wound in an attempt to staunch the blood. The darkness around him seemed to crowd in on him, enveloping his shallow oasis of light. Sounds of scurrying creatures in the brush, alerted to his presence by the light, caught his attention, and he was hesitant to shut it off, to return himself again to the darkness.

Sucking in a fortifying breath, he closed his eyes and clicked off the light, sliding it back into his pocket. He was blind for a moment, his vision having accustomed itself to the light, and he stood where he was, letting his pupils again adjust to the darkness. The moon overhead caught his eye, and he gazed at it, its brilliance backlighting a bank of clouds as they passed by. The forest surrounding him, shrouded in shadow only a moment before, was illuminated by the moon as it rose high in the sky, and Rick found that he was able to make out the path headed deeper into the woods. He had never gone this way, as he and his brother had only ever used these woods as a shortcut to meet up with their friends. Well, he had never gone that way.

Instinct caused him to turn, to head onto the unknown path deeper into the woods. Someone had come this way, many times, and worn down the brush to a dirty foot path. As he traversed this unknown place, he thought of his brother, moving away from their childhood, from the happiness that he had known as a child, and forging his own path into the unknown darkness of this place. So close to their home, to their family, yet a world where no one could see him, where he could be completely alone.

Rick knew that he was on the right path.

....

He ran his fingertips along the edge of her jaw, tenderly pulling her mouth closer to his, gently touching her lips with his own once more. Tilting her head, he nuzzled her throat, placing soft kisses down her neck. Alex shuddered, silently screaming inside her own head. She wanted to fight him, to scratch at him, to bite. But she didn't know if she had the strength yet, enough control of her body to fight him off completely. She feared that if she attacked him, and she wasn't ready, if she were still under the control of whatever sedation that he had used on her, that she would lose the only weapon that she had. He hadn't realized that since he had neglected to reattach her IV when moving her to this room, that she was regaining control of her muscles. He didn't know that she had been working to wiggle her fingers and toes, to open her mouth wide and turn her head when he had his back turned to her. He didn't know that she was gearing up to escape.

...

Pushing aside a branch growing across the path, Rick emerged into a clearing, a place where the trees opened up, and the bright light of the full moon illuminated the forest around him almost as if it were a summer day. His heart sank, a feeling of hopelessness overtaking him as he scanned the area, finding that the path that he had been following seemed to have ended. He could see no way to turn from here. Stepping fully into the clearing, he looked up into the sky, gazing at the moon, bright and shining amidst a sea of darkness.

Where do I turn now? he thought. This felt as if it were the way that I was supposed to go. Without this, he didn't know where to turn. As he watched, a cloud drifted across the moon, blotting out its light, leaving him in the cold darkness of absolute night.

He sighed, frustrated and afraid, and turned to head back the way that he had come. As he lifted the branch out of the way again, something strange caught his eye. He had become accustomed to the darkness, his eyes adjusting to walking through these woods by only the light of the moon. He was able to make out the trees around him, and had successfully avoided obstacles in his path since his fall. Off to the left, beyond the edge of the clearing, there was a place where the darkness was so absolute that his eyes could not penetrate it. It was as if something had swallowed up all of the ambient light, creating a void, a patch of nothing, of invisibility. Curious, Rick headed across the clearing, his pace quickening as he realized that even when he got closer to the utter darkness, he still could not make out what it was. Not until he had stepped into the trees beyond the clearing was he able to make sense of what he was seeing, or rather not seeing.

The moon emerged from behind the clouds, spilling light across the back of Rick's hand as he reached out and laid his palm against the rim of the concrete tunnel leading into the earth behind the trees. Someone had built this, had hidden this place, here in the depths of the forest. The walls of the tunnel had been pained with a thick, black paint, which absorbed all light from around it, rendering it invisible in the dark of night.

This had to be it, thought Rick. This was the darkness that he must go through to find her.

He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to step into this tunnel, to head deeper into his brother's madness, hope welling up inside him that he would find Alex on the other side. He just hoped that he would find her alive.

Pulling the flashlight from his pocket, he clicked it on, its meager light showing him only the first few feet of the tunnel. A flight of stairs lay before him, their surface slick with the growth of moss, leading down into the earth. He stepped down, his breathing rough and ragged with fear, his heartbeat ringing in his ears as his steps echoed back to him from the dark, brick walls of the tunnel.

He had told no one where he was going, not wanting to give them false hope in case he was mistaken. After leaving the doctor's office he had come straight here, something telling him that the answer lay in these woods. On top of that, even he didn't know that this place was here, whatever this was, and no one would know where to come looking for him should something happen. He was on his own here. Whatever he found at the bottom of this staircase, whether it be what he was looking for or not, it was all up to him.

He descended deep into the earth, the light of the moon lost several yards behind him, his pitiful flashlight unable to illuminate the darkness swallowing him whole. He came to a landing, the staircase ending in a wide open space, the blackened, brick tiles of the ceiling ten feet above his head. There were no markings, no signs upon the walls, only an iron door set into the bricks at the far end. Rick darted across the space, examining the door, praying that it wasn't locked from the other side.

It seemed to be a door from an old submarine, a wheel at its center to be turned in order to open it. It would be several inches of thick steel, Rick knew, suddenly coming to the realization of what the purpose of this place was. A bomb shelter, a place of escape that someone had built generations before, only to be forgotten in the wilderness, and discovered by a young boy attempting to escape a horrible reality of his own.

Rick turned the wheel, cringing as the ancient iron gears squealed in protest. He didn't know that Alex and his brother were inside, but if they were, he would rather not alert them to his arrival, not yet. He pulled the door toward him, breathing a sigh of relief as the sound of music wafted to him from somewhere deep within the shelter. Someone was here. He just prayed that he wasn't too late.