“You have got to be shitting me.”
She saw a red glow in his cheeks, no doubt a memory of the rage he felt when he understood responsible ‘adults’ had abandoned their young charges.
“They left them there. Just left them.”
Nina said, “So you inherited even more. Wow, that must have been almost impossible.”
“It didn’t feel that way at the time because I didn’t have a chance to think about it. I mean, watching over a bunch of children like that is hard enough when the world is running a-okay. Between juice cups and diapers and making sure they’re not pummeling each other, well, I probably was about the last person to realize the world was falling apart.”
“And when you did realize it?”
“It was difficult to believe the stuff on TV. Then when it was outside the door, man, I mean, your survival instincts really take over. Sometimes those kids, no matter how much you yell, they just can’t be quiet for two seconds. But man, we were all huddled up in the cloakroom with a couple of big things walking around the center with, like, axes or something. We stayed real quiet for almost an hour. Even the really little kids, it’s like they knew their life depended on being quiet.”
He shook his head, sorting through foggy memories.
“At first, we stayed in the center. We had snacks and stuff like that, even some games for the kids. It seemed like every couple of hours we had to hide. The streets in Wilmington got real bad.”
She said, “You stayed there as long as you could, hoping parents would come and get their kids.”
“It seemed the right thing to do. I think I told you already, for a while on that first day we got calls from parents. I mean, frantic calls. One little boy…his call from dad got cut off by…by…his dad being…”
She placed a hand on his shoulder and spared him the details.
“I understand.”
He struggled to hold back tears.
Nina told him, “Jim…let it go. All the years you worked so hard to keep these kids alive. Well guess what? You’ve crossed the finish line.”
“I hope…I hope that-man, I’m sorry,” he put his eyes in his hands.
“There’s still danger around,” she said. “I’m just saying, it isn’t all rosy. But you’ve got help now. We’ve got people who deal with this sort of thing. They’ll be coming here soon to help make arrangements.”
“What?” He pulled his eyes out of his hands. “You mean, for the kids?”
“If that’s what you want, yeah,” she said. “I can imagine the bond you have with them. But we’ve found orphans before and most of them are parts of families now.”
He closed his eyes tight.
“That’s good. That’s real good. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out my own life. That’s been sort of on hold for five years now.”
He let out a long exhale then said, “I have to tell you. I really admire you. I mean, the way you fight and how you’re not afraid. All these years of running and hiding, I’ve been scared shitless. I think of all the kids I lost. I wonder if I had been braver maybe more of them would have made it.”
Nina smiled; almost laughed.
“What?” He asked. “What’d I say?”
She paused, unsure how to say it. “It’s just that every guy I’ve met in the past four years is one of two types.”
“Yeah? What types are those?”
“The first is the guy that’s really gung-ho for the fighting and wants me to know how brave he is. Like he’s going to impress me with how tough he is. Usually they’re the types who go running head on at a Spider-Ant with nothing but a can of Raid and a fly swatter.”
The phrase was an inside-joke with the Dark Wolves but she figured he would understand the idea. He did.
“The second is the guy that puts on the brave front but is damn scared. He’s the one that that tells you he can arm-wrestle a Stick Ogre but then cut and runs at the site of a Chew-Cow.”
“A Chew Cow?”
“Think a big cow. Kind of harmless.”
“Oh. Well..?”
“But you,” she explained. “You just are who you are. That’s kid of refreshing.”
“Actually I’m the third type. I’m the guy that’s damn scared and isn’t afraid to admit it.”
“That’s what I mean. I admire that. It means people can count on you.”
“Huh?”
“It means you do things you have to do, even if it scares you.”
His brow crinkled in an expression of mild confusion as he pointed out, “But that’s what you do, isn’t it?”
“You’re braver than me,” she surprised him
“No chance.”
“Sure you are. Because the truth of the matter is that I don’t get afraid of all this. Not the monsters. Not the aliens. The only thing that sometimes scares me is, well, the fact that none of it scares me. Makes me wonder who I really am, deep down.”
A voice called from the smoky cooking pit over by the empty swimming pool, “Dinner is served!”
A chorus of cheers and claps broke out.
“You are…” he started and tried to find the right words. It took him a moment. “You are a very interesting person, Captain Nina Forest.”
“Not really,” she told him solemnly. “It just seems that way at first.”
Jorge Benjamin Stone rolled, then stirred, then finally woke. Or, at least, opened his eyes; his mind hovered somewhere between dream and reality.
The little boy sat up in his bed. The only light came from the moon hanging high in the heavens and casting a few stray moonbeams through his window.
He rubbed his eyes and vaguely wondered why he no longer slept.
Thump
Yes, that was it. A soft noise called him from slumber.
Thump.
JB swung his legs out of bed. His bare feet touched a cold wood floor. He staggered to stand as his mind tried in vain to convince him to return to the warmth of his blankets. Without thinking-on instinct-he grabbed his plush bunny and held it to his chest.
Like most doors in the mansion, his stood slightly ajar to allow the K9 guards freedom of movement through the home.
He pushed it open fully and stepped out into the dark, empty hallway. Several paces to his left was his father’s second floor office, which led to the master bedroom.
Thump.
Jorgie’s ears woke enough to trace the sound. It came from his right, along the hall toward the rear of the house where the door to a large bathroom stood. A faint glow came from behind that half-open door, a bluish glow from the night light therein.
He stood still, staring in that direction. His mind fought a battle between sleep and awake, before settling on ‘groggy’ but functional.
Thump.
“Ajax?” He whispered for the Doberman Pinscher assigned to guard him.
Jorge walked-more staggered-toward the bathroom. At this point, he needed to relieve himself, anyway.
Thump.
Louder this time. Closer.
JB used two fingers to push the door all the way open. Blue light splashed over his entire face.
Inside the large bathroom was a whirlpool tub, a shower stall, and of course the usual fixtures.
JB took two steps onto tile that felt even colder than the wood. A dark mass lying on the floor against the tub grabbed and held his attention. That mass moved, a little.
Thump.
JB’s eyes adjusted. He saw Ajax on the floor. The sound came from the dog hitting its head against the tub like some kind of machine malfunctioning. A pool of blood dripped from a growing head wound and ran red across the white tile.
“Ajax? Ajax?”
JB stepped forward, still not quite sure if he was stuck in a nightmare.
“Ajax, stop it,” JB cringed.
The dog whined, just a little. Not loud.
Thump.
Jorge saw another mass. This one inside the tub. An Internal Security agent. JB was pretty sure his name had been Carlos. JB played football catch with him in the side yard a few months before. He thought him a nice man.
Carlos’ white shirt was stained red as streams of blood gushed from his slashed throat.