Chapter Seven - Revelation

Brock couldn’t help but be worried. From what Ian had told him, the men in black had been after him for a while. It just didn’t seem likely that they would finally capture him after all these times he had evaded them. Especially after the death of one of their own. Brock figured they might have just had trouble with the survivor out of that pair.

I’ll have to find Emily now. And Carl… Maybe they’ll be able to help in finding him…

He dialled her number quickly, waiting impatiently for a signal to come through. Finally there was an answer, low and incoherent.

“Hello?” It was Emily. Brock’s first guess that she was in trouble left him immediately. “Carl… gone…” He moved about the room to try and improve the signal. He had no idea where to find her. “Brock…”

“I can’t hear you Emily,” he shouted into the phone; not angrily, just impatient. He was trying to get some help here. “Where are you?”

“… Lake…” He cursed beneath his breath. “Brock… need…help…”

“I’ll be there are soon as I can, Emily.”

Wherever ‘there’ is!

“Bye…” The signal cut off sharply at the other end. Brock threw his phone onto the couch in Ian’s apartment. He had to find out where she might have been talking from. What was worse was that he couldn’t even tell her of Ian’s kidnapping. He cursed the phone line, and himself for even letting Ian go by himself. For being afraid of the darkness.

***

Emily was in tears. She couldn’t see through her sore eyes, although all she wanted to see was Carl’s face. Nothing else would do at the moment. She didn’t want to sleep; she imagined that sleep would bring upon her the images of his kidnapping. She could still hear her own shrill cry of his name, unable to reach him. She could still remember the man holding her tightly in the ropes that had grown from his body; ropes of light that bound like a snake.

She heard the low buzzing of her phone in her pocket, but through her anguished eyes couldn’t make out who the number belonged to. She picked it up wearily. “Hello?” She rubbed her eyes and saw Brock’s name. “Carl… he’s gone. They took him! Brock, I need your help!”

“Can’t hear… where… you?”

“Black Lake. It’s a small town near Carl’s old house. Brock, I need you to come here, to help find him.” It hurt her throat to talk. Her face was burning from embarrassment. She was walking in the streets still, trying to find her motel before the sun set. She picked up her pace, bumping into a woman walking towards her. “Sorry.”

“…Be there… soon…”

“Bye then.” She hung up the phone quickly, snapping it shut. It wasn’t too far until she would be at the motel soon. Then she could cry in peace.

***

Bull’s-eye!

Naomi had found Emily Quigley. Now all she had to do was wait for her to leave the building. It would be easier, rather than trying to break in. There was no telling what Emily could do. How dangerous she might be. How many ways she could kill Naomi if she had to.

Just wait for her to come out…

***

Brock was at his car when a white van pulled up beside him. He got ready for a fight; it was just a plain white van, and in the front two men in black. The back doors launched open and a figure stumbled out. The doors quickly closed as the van sped off. Brock exhaled slowly, eyeing the figure cautiously.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice seemed distant. He guessed he really was worried about it. Despite what he had managed to do the night Ian was taken. He edged closer to the figure who was shaking nervously. “Hello?”

The man looked fearfully at Brock; his eyes distant.

Carl!

“They… they’re after Emily!” he cried.

“Carl, calm down. Who’s after Emily?” He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“The men… the ones that took me… Brock we have to save her!”

“Where is she?” Carl shook his head slowly, a confused look upon his face. He tried to work out where he had been; what he had been doing.

“Black Lake… There’s a motel there. That’s where we were staying. But it might take a while for me to get us there. It’s quite a bit away.” Brock looked up at the setting sun. The horizon was already lit up red.

“I’ll give her a call. I’ll warn her.” Brock was struggling to get his breathing right. He was too worried about Emily now to do anything right. The phone took it’s time being answered. “Emily! You have to get out of their now. They’re after you. The men in black are after you. Carl’s here. He’s fine. Just hurry!” He hung up quickly and turned to Carl. “How long before you can get us there?”

***

Emily hurried. She gathered whatever things she had with her - phone, spare clothes, a picture of her and Carl they had taken in a photo booth. She smiled lightly as she knew he was okay, then remembered the immediate danger she would be in if the men in black came after her again. She grabbed her car keys. She wasn’t even going to tell the motel staff she was leaving. The key would be there, but she wouldn’t be. If she was alright afterwards she could just go through the walls anyway.

She was out the door in a haste, her breaths short and sharp. Her keys were at the ready to turn the engine on. She hurled the bag into the back on the car and readied to hop over the door. Then there came the cold grasp of pain on her head. Two hands, thin but strong, held her in place. She couldn’t see who was doing it. Her knees went weak.

She remembered Carl’s face, but his name was gone. She couldn’t imagine why she would forget it. She couldn’t imagine why she would be leaving the place that looked like a home that stood before her, it’s doors all numbered and lettered. She forgot her own name, her age, everything. It just went blank. She couldn’t see the building before her now. She was going blind but she heard someone crying - the cold that touched her face. Then everything was gone and she slumped to the ground; her mind blank.

Naomi brushed the tears from her eyes and ran from the scene. She knew that it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed Emily lying there. She was gone before two men appeared out of nowhere.

“Emily?” Carl stepped forward, eyes bloodshot and nose bloody. “Em…” He bent down to her, kneeling by her side. Her breathing was fine, but she wasn’t moving. Tears filled his eyes. He turned to the silent Brock, who was pale with shock, lips tight with fear. “They got her, Brock. We were too late…” He whimpered before her, “She’s gone.”

[End of Part One]