Undisclosed (7 page)

Travis exhaled, tired and frustrated at it all. The day’s sun had all but vanished; all that was left were some faint red and orange streaks in the evening’s sky, as if someone had set fire to the heavens. The downtown wasn’t big, everything within walking distance, and by the time they had wrapped up, most if not all of the other art galleries, antique stores and shops had closed, leaving only a few restaurants and pizza stores lit up.

Lost in his thoughts, Travis turned the corner and nearly dropped the handful of mail as he ran into his father. His father’s face was flushed and covered in sweat and he was breathing like someone who had just completed a long-distance run.

“Ah, there you, okay, we need to go.”

Snagging two of the envelopes he held against his side with his elbow, Scott grabbed them and recovered his composure.

“Yeah, I’ve just got to get my phone, it’s inside. I said I would call Mom when I had locked up.”

Scott grasped his arm firmly. “No time, Travis, get it tomorrow.”

“What?”

The truck was still idling. “Get in.”

“Okay …” His voice trailed off, and as he father moved around, he quickly dashed back and locked up the front door, still leaving a light on inside, and then returned, jumping into the other side. His door slammed instantly, nearly severing his leg as his father pulled away, barely giving him a chance to close it.

Travis furrowed his brow as he tried to get comfortable. “You okay, Dad? You seem a little—”

“Yeah, yeah … I’m good, I told you I have to run a quick errand and I should have been there ten minutes ago.”

They were heading east along the 502, heading out of the town. His father was unusually quiet, muttering to himself as he kept his eyes ahead. He would glance frequently in his mirrors looking concerned, as if someone was tailing him. Not quite sure what was up, Travis chose to ignore it and ride it out. Once they were out of the town, the heat of the truck kicked in like a warm sauna and Travis could feel a strong wave of tiredness hit him. The further they traveled out of the city the fewer lights and cars passed until it was just them. Travis was beginning to wonder where on earth they were heading. There was nothing out here, just open road and desert. They had just passed Los Alamos airport; any further and it wouldn’t be long before they would be in White Rock

“Where’s your phone, I gotta call Mother, let her know I’m gonna be little late.”

Scott reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Here, make it quick,” he said as he handed it to him.

“You know you’re acting a little antsy tonight, right? It’s kinda freakin’ me out,” Travis scoffed, as he tapped away on the phone. He brought it up to his ear and turned towards his father to ask him when they could pick up his bike from the pound, when—

That was the last recollection he had.

The next was searing pain shooting through his body and the sickening taste of warm blood—his own blood. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he felt sick to his stomach, disoriented and confused as everything including himself was in disarray and upside down. Only his seat belt kept him place and it wrapped around him so tight that it felt like it had torn through his clothes. Shattered glass was everywhere. He was covered in it, some he could feel embedded in his skin like razor-sharp claws. The entire front windscreen was gone and the smell of scorched metal filled his nostrils.

He squinted. Ahead of him a bright light blinded his eyes through what used to be the windscreen, as if a train with a large light on the front had come to a halt before them.
A car? Maybe it was a car they hit. No,
there were no cars
on the road.

“Dad …” he groaned, attempting to turn his head.

No reply.

“Dad, answer me.” He craned his neck as much as he could to one side, hoping to see his father, but the driver’s seat was empty. He continued to slip in and out of consciousness, and each time he could have sworn he heard people talking.

This time when he came to, he heard his father’s voice and at least one other person.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t know?” an unfamiliar gruff voice said.

“Don’t take my boy; he’s got nothing to do with this.” Scott groaned.

Who was
his dad
speaking to? How long
Travis
had been in this position?
Travis was unsure of everything—except the intense pain coursing its way through him.

“What do you want us to do?”

“Take him back.”

“And the boy?”

“Make it quick.”

He could hear the sound of glass crunching beneath feet, feet that were now moving in his direction. Outside the vehicle, Travis could make out someone walking towards the truck. Heavy boots scuffed the road, and the silhouette of legs and feet cut into the blinding light
. Maybe a
paramedic
, he thought as he wiped blood from his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to get a clearer look. Something didn’t feel right; he couldn’t see any flashing lights, hear any radios or what he usually heard when the law or EMTs showed up.

Travis reached for the seat buckle latch. He pushed the button but nothing happened; the entire thing was crumpled. The figure was getting closer. He watched as broken parts of the truck seemed to scatter around the truck, parting in front of the figure like leaves blown by the wind.

What the hell?
he thought, as his vision faded in and out. He fumbled around his jean pockets, hoping to find his keys; he knew if he could get them, he could use the penknife attached to the ring and cut his way out.

Damn it.
It was impossible; he couldn’t get his fingers into the pocket. By now he could clearly make out what the figure was wearing—black leather boots and tight jeans, with a gun strapped to his leg. Whoever it was, he was clearly no paramedic.
Possibly the driver of the other car? That had to be it, they hit another car,
he imagined.

The figure had now come to a standstill directly in front of the vehicle; ever so quickly they dropped to one knee, one hand on the floor, the other resting on their knee as if positioning at a starting line. As the face came into view, Travis couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The face was entirely human but the eyes were completely ink black, not a speck of white in them, other than the occasional reflection of light from the headlights bouncing off them.

“Hmm … now, what to do with you?” The figure stared at him with his dark, penetrating eyes and then straightened up and walked around to the passenger side. Travis heard a loud crack and then watched in terror as the door ripped clean off the car, sailed through the air and came to rest a few yards away. Travis began to struggle, panicked and frantic, and yet completely unable to get free.

The figure was but a few steps from the open door when he suddenly let out a high, howling cry and stumbled backwards. Something had hit him, and he turned on his heels and bolted.

Travis passed out again, and as his eyes opened for a third time, he felt the firm, sandy ground beneath him. Arched over him was someone. He couldn’t make out who it was. His vision was still blurry and there was little to no light to allow for a clear image, but he could feel hair brushing against his face and a distinct sweet scent. As his hearing became clearer, the wailing of emergency sirens in the distance got louder.

Within the noise, he heard a gruff male voice snap, “All right, he’s safe—now let’s go.”

“You think he might know?” a female voice said.

Travis felt fingers softly touch his temples.

“There’s not enough time for that,” the male voice said

The roar of an engine rumbled as it pulled up beside them.

“Hey, guys, unless you want to end up in the back of a cruiser, we need to jump … now.”

“Jayde—JAYDE!” another yelled.

Travis heard footsteps running, doors slam and grit spitting as a vehicle took off into the night.

He could no longer feel the fingers against his head, only his heart pounding inside his chest as excruciating pain coursed its way through, tearing at his insides.

A few minutes later, red and blue lights pulsated above him; two EMTs were checking his vitals and shouting. In the noise of sirens and radios crackling, he heard Officer Davis.

“Hang in there, kid.”

Everything around him was going in and out of view. He felt as if someone was suffocating him. He gasped for breath, another and another, as a mask was put over his mouth. Air filled his nostrils and then nothing but darkness.

Chapter Six

“Travis, pass me the wrench,” Will said, reaching his arm back as he worked on the dirt bike.

Travis was standing close to a rock face up in the Jemez Mountains that overlooked the entire town of Los Alamos. They were both baking under the heat of the noonday sun. There wasn’t a cloud in sight and from where they were you could see for miles.

He looked around, puzzled. Was he dead? Dreaming? But it couldn’t be. The whole incident was eerily familiar. It started coming to him in pieces. That’s right, it was a Saturday he had spent with his brother a few years back. They had spent the whole day riding trails before Travis had come off his bike. Well, it was Will’s but he had given it to him as a gift. But there was something unusual about this day.

“What is up with you?” Will said, straightening up and smiling at him. “You’re looking even weirder than you usually do.” He chuckled.

“Will?”

Travis tightly gripped the back of his shirt, hugging him. “Man, I’ve missed you.”

“Oookay. I know we’re out in good ol’ nature, but do you mind not going all
Deliverance
on me?” Will said, stiffening up inside his embrace.

“Yeah—yeah, of course.” Travis released his bear hug grip on Will and stepped back, looking a little embarrassed.

Will shook his head. “Now, you want to get me the wrench so we can get this fixed up and make it back before dark?”

Travis nodded. “Sure, you got it,” he said, whirling around and pulling out a wrench from a rucksack on the back of his brother’s bike. “So I was thinking,” he began, as he turned back to his brother.

“Will?” Travis gazed around; Will wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Impossible!

“WILL!” he shouted. His voice echoed back, but there was no reply.

Suddenly, his entire surroundings imploded, like the fabric of reality tearing and folding in on itself. Darkness began swallowing up the sky, forest and eventually the ground beneath him. Travis tried to run.

“WILL!” he yelled.

Travis bolted upright with a yell still caught in his throat; his eyelids opened to the brightness of overhead lights stabbing his eyes like shards of glass. He reached up to rub his eyes, his body feeling like a lead weight, stiff and aching all over.

“Travis,” Laura gasped, grasping his hand. “Hey, hon, it’s okay.”

As Travis’s vision became clearer, he looked sideways and he could see his mother leaning forward in a chair beside his bed. He gazed around, recognizing he was in a small hospital room. A breathing apparatus was hooked into his nostrils and a tube was attached to his arm. He could hear the sound of air being pumped and felt a steady stream of it forcing its way up his nose. He pulled it out slowly and the fresh air was replaced with the stench of a bedpan.

“Gave us a bit of a scare there, you’ve been out for over eleven hours.”

He licked his cracked lips and then swallowed, but his throat felt dry. “Where’s Dad?” Travis murmured, lying back on the bed. “I need to see if he’s all right.”

Laura stared at him for a moment then diverted her eyes to the floor.

“They said you might ask that,” Laura said. “Travis, your father wasn’t in the vehicle.”

“Yeah, I know that, he must have gotten thrown from the truck.”

“He was never in the truck,” she said adamantly.

He scowled. “What? Of … of course he was,” he stammered. “He picked me up from the store, he was taking me home.”

“Travis,” Laura said, running her hands through his hair, “your father is away, he dropped the truck off at the store, and you must have veered into the other lane.”

Travis swatted her hand away from his head. “No, no, that’s not what happened.” Travis pulled himself up and surveyed the room.
Could this still be a dream? Am I imagining all this?

“Hon, I got a phone call from your father yesterday, telling me he had to go out of state for a while, and he had left the truck with you, while your bike is in the pound.”

Travis frowned, staring in disbelief.

“Dad was there, I saw him—I heard him.”

Laura gave a blank stare.

“No, Travis, you were the only one there.”

What about the black-eyed man? The girl? The others
I
heard?

Travis threw the blue covers off his sweat-drenched body and swung his bare feet over the edge onto the hard, cold floor. He stumbled off the bed, his body feeling like all the bones in his legs had been removed, leaving him clambering against the side table and causing the side lamp to crash to the floor.