Drawing Bloodlines (17 page)

Nathan noticed that Jonathan had said something to the driver, but he didn’t catch what it was. “So, I guess I have been a lit
tle over-protective,” he said.

“Umm, just a little,” joked Lafonda.

Nathan lowered his eyes. “With everything that was going on, I really didn’t think I had a choice but to shut you guys out.”

Lafonda sat quietly. “I understand that you were trying to protect us,” she said. “I mean, I get it, they’re your visions, and you feel some sort of responsibility.” She squeezed his hand and Nathan looked up at her. “I want to help.” She smiled. “Even if it means preventing som
eone from shoving a long, silver blade in my back.”

They both stared blankly at each other and Nathan soon let out a short burst of laughter. “Yeah,” she nodded, crac
king a smile. “How about — especially, if it means stopping a shiny silver blade, or any blade — from being shoved into my back.”

Suddenly, there was a loud screeching sound and Lafo
nda, Nathan, and Alan were catapulted forward as the black cab jolted to a stop. “What the…?” blurted Alan, sitting up and staring out of the dark foggy window. “I thought we were going to your place. Why did we just show up on a college campus?”

Nathan and Lafonda, both pulled themselves together and leaned forward to peer out of the front windshield of the car. The car’s headlights cut through the thick fog like a knife, revealing the tall greyish sign with white lettering. “Does that — wait a minute — Kings Royal Univers
ity?” blurted Nathan, “Jonathan?”

Before Nathan could ask again, Jonathan bolted out of the car like a greyhound trying to win a horse race. The passe
nger door was left blowing to the wind as the cab driver yelled after him. Quickly, Lafonda opened the door and sprung out of the vehicle. Immediately, Nathan followed suit. “He sure can run,” said Nathan, watching Jonathan’s figure become a shadow, as he got further away.

“Yeah,” said Lafonda, almost squinting. “But where is he going?”

It was still pre-dawn and the sprawling green grass they stood in was wet beneath their feet. The slow moving fog made it hard to see, but it wasn’t difficult to see that Jonathan headed toward the big red brick building with the tall tower on the quad. “We should go after him,” said Nathan.

“Go after him?” said Alan from the car. “We don’t even kno
w where the lunatic is going.”

“I thought we discussed this, Alan,” said Ang
ela, joining them from the side. The other black cab had pulled up behind them and Angela was first out of the vehicle. “He may be a little eccentric, but he’s definitely not crazy.”

Quickly, Alan got of the car and pointed dramatically at Jonathan’s darting shadow. “You ca
ll that — not crazy?” he said.

“Hey! Who’s going to pay
for this?” yelled the driver.

“Come on — I don’t want to lose him!” said Nathan. Lafonda nodded and he was surprised
to see her agreeing with him.

Slowly, Nathan began to run across the grass, but almost slipped when he heard Malick cal
ling after him. “Where are you going?” shouted Malick.

“Jonathan might be in trouble,” he heard Ang
ela say.

Nathan’s breath labored as he reached the middle of the quad. Through the fog, he could now see the face of the large white clock that set atop of the tower. “Where did he go?” he mu
rmured, trying to catch his breath. Soon, his pace slowed to halt. “He was just in front of me a few seconds ago.”

Nathan had stopped in front of the three-pronged lam
ppost that shone brightly like a light beacon in the midst of the fog. With both hands on his hips, his chest labored as he searched for Jonathan. “Ouch!” he yelled, after being suddenly jarred in the side.

“I’m sorry, Nathan,” said Lafonda, catching her breath. “This heavy fog is really making it difficult to see far in front of you.”

“Tell me about it,” smirked Nathan, rubbing his side. “And it doesn’t help that the sun hasn’t come up yet.” He looked up at the small bands of sunlight that were starting to make the clouds above appear pink.

“Look, over there!” pointed Lafonda. “Past the trees. What’s that small green light, bouncing amid the fog?”

“That has to be Jonathan,” said Nathan. “Come on.”

“But wait … how can you be so sure?” asked Lafon
da, squinting through the fog.

“Trust me,” he said, taking to a gallop.
“He must be on his cell phone.”

Lafonda paused before following
, and gave him a strange look.

“It
’s a long story,” said Nathan.

Quickly, Nathan and Lafonda ran to the spot where they thought they had seen the green light. Nathan tried not to slip in the grass again. He especially tried to avoid bumping into Lafonda. “He’s not here,” said Lafon
da, her breath laboring.

“I see him!” shouted Nathan, pointing to the dark figure sprinting down the narrow sidewalk. “He’s still heading t
oward the tower.”

In a dash, Nathan headed toward the big red brick buil
ding with the tall clock tower. Soon, he was running on pavement and he was thrilled to be off the grass. For a split second, he paused in awe of the beautiful building, but continued up the white limestone steps. Inside, the dull white light above made it hard for him to stay focused as he searched the long and dark, oval-shaped hallway. “Do you see him?” he asked.

“No,” said Lafonda, catching her breath and propping herself against one of the hallway’s adorning white pillars. She gestured with her head
. “Maybe he headed up the stairs?”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Malick, joining them from behind. His face was red and he paused to catch his breath. “Don’t look so surprised guys.” He paced the hallway; pee
ring inside the dark and empty classrooms. “Like I was going to let you have fun without me.”

Slowly, Nathan shook his
head as he smirked at Malick.

“And don’t forget about us,” said a familiar voice and Nathan quickly spun around. He had a huge smile on his face as he watched Angela, Alan, and Leah walk through the door.

“I’m definitely … not dressed for this,” moaned Angela, almost out of breath. Her face was flushed as she tried to fix her hair.

“I can’t believe you got me to run all the way here,” grumbled Alan, while primping his black leather blazer and spiky blonde hair. “And what if the driver decides to leave with our sui
tcases and bags?”

“Don’t look so surprised, handsome,” said Leah, walking up and kissing Nathan on the cheek. She
winked. “We’ve got your back.”

“Okay,” said Malick, cynically rolling his eyes. “Now that we are done with our little reunion, let’s head upstairs and see if our lit
tle boy-genius needs any help.”

“B–but wait,” said Angela, “
shouldn’t we check to see if he’s in one of the rooms down here?”

“Nah,” said Malick, quickly shaking his head. He shrugged before climbing the stairs. “If he’s down here, I’m sure we will hear somebody scream — or in his case — growl.”

Angela sighed and rolled her eyes before following them. “Remind me not to wear boots next time,” she said, gently taking her steps. “My feet are going to kill me later.”

Reluctantly, Alan climbed the stairs behind her. “Yeah,” he said, still fidgeting with his clothes and hair. “Mental note: when traveling with Jonathan, don’t wear nice shoes, nice clothes, don’t bother to do your hair.…”

“Shush!” said Malick, after reaching the top of the stairs. “Did you hear that?” He turned to look at Nathan. Nathan listened intently. “I think I heard shuffling.”

“Come on,” said Nathan, walking past him and onto the floor
. “Jonathan may be in trouble.”

“Yeah, but he put himself in trouble,” whispered Alan. Angela turned around to stare at him. “What?” Slowly, he followed behind the group, as they searched the second floor hal
lway. “Don’t tell me it hasn’t occurred to anyone else that we were all safe and sound until Jonathan bolted out of the car?”

“Be quiet, Alan,” whispered Angela, as she quickly checked one of the rooms. She gently closed the door. “Guys, I thi
nk this floor is all offices.”

“Yeah,” said Lafonda, closing an office door behind
her. “And no sign of Jonathan.

Malick stopped peering into rooms and had a pensive look on his face as he stared blankly down the long hallway. “I know I heard something,” he said. “But everything is qu
iet.”

“Almost too quiet,” said Lafonda, peering into another room. She stopped to stare at the heavy wooden door. “The name plate on this door says the office belongs to a Dr. M
iguel Villalobos.”

“Maybe we should check
another floor?” asked Nathan.

“You guys, quick — over here!” shouted Angela. She stood in
the doorway of an open office.

“What the heck happened here?” said Malick, stepping inside the darkened office. Carefully, he stepped over the files and books that were strewn across the floor. “This o
ffice is trashed.”

“Looks as if someone was looking for something,” said Nathan, pausing to pick up the knocked over lamp that lay nestled in the crevice of the caved-in desk. “Look at the ca
binets and desk drawers. They’re all open.”

“And it looks like they might have found it,” said Leah, “the hard drive is smashed and the computer screen is br
oken too.”

“What’s up with all these storage boxes?” blurted Lafo
nda. She stopped to pick up the lid for one of them and noticed the broken, black picture frame underneath it. She picked it up and then held out the picture of the white haired, middle-aged man with dark, pointy glasses. “I guess this office belongs to this guy.”

Angela continued to hover in the doorway and squinted. “Why does he have a crooked smile?” she asked.

“He does?” asked Lafonda, quickly looking again.

“Yes!” said Angela dramatically, glancing around the room.
“It gives me the creeps.”

Nathan and Malick both stood over the broken desk and then examined the hard drive. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked N
athan.

“W–what?” stumbled Malick.

“Look at the hard drive,” said Nathan. “It’s completely pulverized. And the desk — almost broken in two.” He stared intently at him. “The last time I saw this kind of damage was the night all hell broke loose at camp.”

“Now, don’t go jumping to conclusions, Nathan,” said Malick. “This probably has nothing to do with
us.”

“Umm, I don’t know about that,” said Angela. She poin
ted to the brass nameplate on the door. “Apparently, this office belongs to Dr. C. W. Colvers.”

“Wait, what? Dr. Colvers?” said Alan, stepping from the safety of the hallway to look at the door. “I thought Jonathan said he was at O
xford?”

Suddenly, there was a faint knocking sound coming from behind the door. “Umm, Angela,” said Alan, backing away. “
I think your door is knocking.”

Immediately, the room went silent as Angela slowly peeked behind the door. She stopped when she noticed there was another door. “I guess this is a closest,” she said. Hes
itantly, she reached to open the other door, but jumped back when she heard the faint knocking again. “Okay, how about somebody else open it?”

Cautiously, Nathan approached the door and there was a soft clicking sound as if someone were trying to turn the doorknob. Quickly, N
athan yanked the door open and out fell a man with white hair and pointy dark glasses. The man hit the ground, face forward, with a loud thud. Slowly, the man rolled over and appeared slightly bewildered as he looked up at the group gathered around him.

“Umm, Angela,” said Alan, peering over Nathan’s shou
lder. He glanced at the picture still in Lafonda’s hand. “I think we found the owner of that crooked smile.”

Slowly, Lafonda got on her knees and, together with N
athan and Angela, helped him sit up. “Dr. Colvers?” she asked.

Lafonda looked helplessly up at the group when he failed to answer. “Quick, check his wallet,” said
Alan, nudging Angela forward.

“I’m not going through that man’s pockets,” whisper
ed Angela, nudging back. “Eww!”

“Uh, uh, yes,” he said finally. His speech was slurred and his eyes looked dizzy beneath his gl
asses. “I’m Dr. Colvers … who?”

“I’m Lafonda Devaro,” she said, softly.
“We’re friends of Jonathan’s.”

Suddenly, Dr. Colvers appeared to try to get up, and his eyes seemed to gain focus again. “Dev
aro?” he said.

“Don’t tell
him your name!” blurted Alan.

Quickly, Lafonda turned to glare at him and then shook her head. “Dr. Colvers?” she said, sounding concerned. “Wha
t happened? Where is Jonathan?”

One by one, everyone started to look up toward the cei
ling, as particles of dust started to fall all around them. “What the…?” muttered Alan. He stuck his hand out into the air. “Where’s all this dust coming from? And what’s that sound?”