J. Gonzalez - They

So now what?

It was imperative that Vince and Tracy leave California immediately. If Mike and Frank had been waylaid by the Children, it meant they’d been followed. And if that was the case, somebody might be on Vince’s tail this very instant. Vince didn’t think they were—he’d been checking his rearview mirrors constantly—but he still wasn’t taking chances. When he got home he would pack quickly, gather whatever important evidence he had, make some quick phone calls, and then he was leaving. But first he would check the house out carefully and make sure it was secure. He still had the Glock that Mike had given him last night—he’d packed it in his luggage in Pennsylvania and had taken it with him to the house—so he felt somewhat better about having it. Now he had to get through the next few hours.

When he entered his development he was on the lookout for anything suspicious. He inspected everything, taking in every car, every person he saw in his neighborhood. People that he was familiar with, that he had known for years, now came under close scrutiny as he passed by. When he pulled into the driveway of his home his heart was pounding. He killed the engine, reached to the seat next to him for his bag, and got out of the car. His senses were on heightened alert as he unlocked the door. He entered the house and closed the door softly behind him. All was silent.

He set the bag down on the floor carefully. Then he reached for the Glock in his inner coat pocket and pulled it out. He felt sweaty and hot and he took a deep breath to calm himself down. Then, he took a step further into his house.

He inspected the house with a sense of rising alarm, expecting danger at every step. The first time he threw a closet door open and pointed the gun inside, he felt like he was going to scream—he really expected somebody to jump out at him. But as he went from room to room checking under beds, behind furniture, in closets and cabinets, he felt his paranoia ease. It took fifteen minutes to inspect the garage, and when he was finished he checked out his backyard, looking at the space between his home and the fence that bordered his property with his neighbor’s. His yard was small anyway, and there was really nowhere for anybody to hide, but he checked it out regardless. He even stepped all the way out in his backyard and looked up on the roof and in the trees. Nothing there. When he went back in the house he felt somewhat relieved, but he was still nervous.

He checked his answering machine and saw that there was one message. He rewound the tape and played the message. “Vince, it’s me, Frank.” Vince gasped at the sound of Frank’s voice; he detected a faint hint of fear in his voice. “Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to call you for three hours now, man. Turn your fucking cell phone on!” Then there was a click and a dial tone. End of message.

Vince frowned. Frank must have tried calling him yesterday, but… what was this about asking Vince to turn his cell phone on? He’d had it on all day yesterday.

Vince unclipped his cell phone from his belt and inspected it. Sure enough, it was on, and the juice was at the halfway mark; he’d recharged the battery last night, right before he went to bed. He remembered it being almost down to zero when he’d hooked it up because he’d had it on all day. And Frank was telling him to turn his phone on? It had been on!

When it rang Vince almost dropped the cellular. He felt his heart shoot into his throat, and for a moment he actually felt the cell phone fly from his hands, as if its ringing had sent it zinging out of his grip. Vince fumbled with it, almost dropped it, then got a firm grasp as it rang again. He held onto it, heart thumping in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. The phone rang again, spiking through his nervous system. Okay, already, I’m coming.

He pulled the antennae out and hit the send button. “Hello.”

For a moment, there was nothing, then a hiss of static. “Hello?” Vince raised his voice a little. It sounded like a bad connection.

“Vince?”

There was something recognizable about that voice. “Yeah?”

“Vince…” A pause, a crackle of static. “Vince, it’s Frank.” It sounded like Frank was out of breath and calling from far away.

“Frank!” Vince felt a wave of relief wash over him. He sighed, felt his body ease up as he started to sink into the sofa. “Man, I’ve been trying to call you and Mike for the past twenty-four hours. What’s—”

“I don’t have much time, Vince, listen to me.” Frank’s voice was suddenly loud and direct, as if the connection was suddenly re-established. Vince frowned; there was something in Frank’s voice that gnawed on him. Something tha— “I’m hurt, Vince,” Frank said, and now Vince recognized the heavy breathing in Frank’s voice. He was panting, his voice tinged with an inflection of pain. “I’ve been… it fucking got me, man.”

“ What ?” It got me? What got him?

“Listen carefully,” Frank said, and now Vince detected the urgency in his voice. He felt his stomach roll in his abdomen. “They were one step ahead of us. I don’t want to get into it now, but I got away. I’ve… managed to elude them at least for a little while, and I had to call you… to warn you…”

“Where are you?” Vince heard his voice, panicked, frightened.

“I’m at a phone booth, somewhere in Fountain Valley… maybe Huntington Beach.”

“Listen,” Vince said, thinking quickly. “Hang up now and call 911. I’m leaving for the hospital now—”

“ No !” Frank’s voice was a hiss of pain. Vince cringed; his nerves were on edge. “Listen to me… I know everything now… I put it all together and… I know why… why all that happened to us… happened… why we had the same dreams… why we… why we went through what we did when we were kids…”

“Frank,” Vince muttered, feeling the dread rising. He didn’t want to hear this. He just wanted to find Frank, find him and help him, but he felt powerless to do anything except listen.

“You were wrong, Vince,” Frank said, gasping, breathing heavily now. “I was right… about most of it. Our parents… The Children of the Night… it’s all real …”

“Frank, I know they’re real,” Vince said, trying to inject an inflection of authority in his voice, a sense of reason. “I know these people think they’re performing some—”

“They don’t think anything, Vince!” Frank barked. “They know ! It’s the real thing . The Children… they’re the real deal . They put us through those rituals… they exposed us because it was all part of the plan . And…” A wheeze in his breathing. “…and our minds suppressed it… it’s like those Vietnam vets that bury the memories of the war in their subcon-scious… they carry it with them and then it starts coming out… just a little bit… at a time…”

“ Frank !” He did not want to hear this, he DID NOT—

“…they brought us to the rituals because… because it was part of the plan… and you…” his breathing grew heavier, as if he were struggling. “You…”

“Frank you don’t have to say this,” Vince begged. “Please, just hang up and call—”

“…you’re important to them,” Frank said, ignoring him. Vince wasn’t even sure if Frank was listening to him, if what he was telling Frank was even registering. “You’re important to them because they’ve worked at bringing you into the world for so long. And then your mother almost ruined their plans by taking you from them—”

“ Frank !” Vince shouted. He closed his eyes, not wanting to hear this, knowing what Frank was going to tell him, but not wanting to hang up either.