M McDonald - March Into Hell

Hesitantly, she approached Mark and sank onto the chair beside the couch. He sat on the edge of the cushion, his head resting on his hand and elbow propped on his knee. His hair, still wet, stood on end from when he'd run a hand through it. The strands slowly settled into place, except for two stubborn spikes. She reached out of habit, intending to pat them into place, but he blocked her hand and leaned away from her. Her throat tightened, the feeling working its way down to settle in her chest. It hurt more than she expected, but no more than she deserved.

"I'm sorry, Mark. This is why I left. I'm no good for you. You need someone like Lily who never dives into the sarcasm pool head first."

"Lily? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You guys would be perfect for each other. She's cute. She believes in you with all her heart and you're both photographers-"

"So does that mean Jim would be perfect for you? Or your partner, Dan?" He looked away and stabbed his hand through his hair.

Jessie sighed. "No, that's not what I mean. I meant that I think you are special, even if I try to pretend that you aren't."

Mark turned, his eyes questioning.

She nodded. "I know. I don't act like it, but that's because it scares the crap out of me, Mark. I don't measure up. I'm not good enough for you."

Confusion crossed his face, and then he laughed. "Now you're the one falling for the stories." He shook his head, chuckling.

Taking a deep breath, Jessie stood and paced behind the couch. She stopped at the brick support beam, remembering entering the loft the night when Mark had been taken. The sight of blood on the bricks had sent terror shooting through her heart. Since then, she had tried repairing the cracks in her armor.

She trailed her fingers over the rough brick. Someone had cleaned it, but she could still spot a dark stain about six feet off the ground. Behind her, she heard Mark stand and limp towards her. His gait was better than it had been the day before, but she knew his feet still caused him pain. She turned and found him beside her. Lately, she had seen him sitting or lying down, but now, he towered over her and her eyes were level with his chin. He was looking over her head at the bricks and a muscle tightened in his jaw.

“They held me there first, and I thought they were going to kill me right then.”

Jessie looked back at the pillar. “There was blood on it when I came up here that night.” Mark glanced at her, but she wasn’t sure if what she said registered because his eyes were distant.

“Kern told me that what they were doing was a test-to see if I was like Jesus…because I had saved a lot of people.” His voice cracked and he cleared it before continuing, “and Jesus saved people too.”

Jessie hadn’t heard this part. Mark had told what had happened physically, but hadn’t offered many details. Dread curled her toes. What else had they said to him?

“He told me he could do a different ritual instead. An…an Aztec one where they would rip my heart out and show it to me before I died.” He made a motion with his hand in front of his chest. His eyes were wide and focused somewhere beyond the pillar.

She felt like she might vomit. No wonder he was so worried about Kern coming back.

“Then he put the knife against me and he…he stabbed me and I thought he was going to do it-that he would pull my heart right out of my chest.” His hand went to his stab wound and he rubbed it absently, his eyes a million miles away. “He said I was lucky because he didn’t put it all the way in.”

Jessie shuddered and closed her eyes. Now she fully understood why Mark had begged Kern to shoot him. “I’m sorry.”

He blinked and focused on her, his brows drawing together in confusion. “What do you have to be sorry about? You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I know, but I wish I could have prevented it from happening. Between the camera and Jim's dream, it seems like we should have been able to stop it."

Mark shook his head. “That’s why I think it was a test. I had the photos right there on my camera, but I didn't bother to develop them. This was all my fault, nobody else's."

Now he wasn’t making sense. "Who do you think is testing you?"

"I don't know." Mark sighed and circled the sofa, sitting heavily and rubbed his hand down his face. “The camera…it's part of all of this. I don’t know how or why, but for some reason, the camera uses me to show certain images that I can change. If I could figure out who controls the camera, I could figure out how it works.”

It was obvious to her who was in control, and she didn't believe God was testing Mark. Wasn't fifteen months as an enemy combatant test enough? "I have no doubt where the images on the camera come from and who plants them in your dreams. What I do doubt is that it was some kind of macabre test. What happened was a glitch. A mistake. Nothing more. You were meant to see the film, but you were tired and didn't. It just means you're human. "

"You think I don't know that? Every time I screw up-and I've done it plenty of times, Jess-I look in the mirror and know that I'm just some idiot who's in over his head. God finally figured it out too. It doesn't surprise me that he's given up on me."

"Fine. Keep thinking that, Mark, and you'll never get your gift back."

He rose from the couch and crossed to the door. "I have some things to do in my office."

Mark took a sip of coffee. Lily hadn’t yet arrived and he was glad for a few moments of quiet as he sat at his desk. He looked through the drawers, noting that things had been moved around, but Lily had told him of the police’s initial efforts to find out where he was. As far as he could tell, Jessie was still upstairs. That was fine with him. He'd already embarrassed himself enough around her.

Taking out a pencil, he opened the account books, intending to do some bookwork, but after glancing through them, his mind wandered. His brain was too full of questions to continue working on the books. Was Jessie right? Had it all just been a colossal mistake? He could handle that. It wouldn't be the first time he'd failed to stop something, and he doubted it would be his last. The difference was he'd always tried before. He hadn't ignored the camera like he had the night of his kidnapping. He drummed his fingers on the desk. The urge to talk to someone was strong and he pulled out his wallet and retrieved Scott Palmer’s card.

As he lifted the phone to dial, Jessie knocked on the door and opened it. “Mark?” She tucked her hair behind her ear in the nervous habit that she had.“Can I come in?”

Mark dropped the phone and palmed the card. He slid it into the top drawer. Jessie’s eyes followed his movement, but she didn’t question him. “Since you're here already. You might as well come on in.”

She took a deep breath and let it out, her gaze darting to the left before settling on him. “I’m sorry if I sounded patronizing. I was trying not to upset you and I guess I failed at that.”

Mark didn’t let his face soften and he didn't speak. Did she think he was so fragile that she couldn’t be straight with him?

Stepping into the room, she crossed her arms and her eyes dropped to the floor. “Look, I’m a cop. I’m trained to be skeptical.”

“And you’re very good at your job,” Mark said, his voice hard.

Jessie bit her lip then said, “I thought I was good at it, but I guess I’m not as good as I believed. If I was good, I’d have found Kern already, and, well, anyway, I wanted to tell you that I called Dan and he’s going to send over a uniformed cop to keep an eye on the place.”

Mark relented. He couldn’t help it. Her distress and sincerity was plain as day in the expression on her face. Jessie was never this humble and he couldn’t stand it. He sighed and motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk. Propping one elbow on the desk, he swiveled to be parallel to the desk and tilted back in the chair. “Don’t leave. If I have to have a babysitter, I’d rather have you than some other cop.”