Sweet Dreams (14 page)

This day was no different from any other for Kirk Weston. He started by doing his morning push-ups and sit-ups. He was proud of himself because after a lot of practice, he was now doing handstands on the edge of his metal disc and holding them for the length of a song, he could hear the words from Metallica's lead singer fill his mind as he held his legs straight up in the air. His body fat was all but gone and could tell that he was about thirty pounds lighter, and every muscle felt like a rock and looked like it too.

His hair was down to the middle of his back and with the beard, he was almost unrecognizable from the man he used to be. The sound of the lights popping on brought Kirk to his feet as he waited for the weekly announcement.

"Good day, Mr. Weston, we have a special treat for you today." The voice was the only one he had heard for over a year, and it was the only thing that brought him any comfort, he felt like he knew the person behind the voice and in his mind he was a friend.

"You may not be aware of it, but today is a special day. It is Christmas Eve! You have been in our care for over a year now," The pit of Kirk's stomach turned as he realized how long he had been there, he knew deep down but hearing it put into words and confirmed made him sick. "And as a token of the Christmas spirit, we have decided to let you go!"

Kirk stood motionless as he heard the news, but didn't believe it. His mind warred with possible outcomes and none of them was good. He was convinced that they were going to kill him after he proved not to be amusing to them or maybe just stop feeding him and let him die of starvation. They would not let him go; they would just kill him when he got out under the long forgotten sun and laugh as his heart surged at the thought of freedom but snuff it out at the threshold. This was some kind of joke...a sick joke!

"Do you have anything to say?" Kirk was silent. "You may speak, if you like."

Kirk tried to open his mouth, but his voice cracked because of lack of use, due to the no talking rule, so all he could do was squeak out a response, which sounded like a cross between a grunt and a squeal.

"Not to worry, Mr. Weston. You will have plenty of time to recover when you get home to your nice, warm bed." The floor started to lower and then came to a rest on the main floor. The door to the small hallway opened and there was for the first time no ninja's standing guard.

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The lights hanging high above the floor flickered and pulsed like a movie screen. The walls made of silver metal moved like liquid, and Kirk blinked his eyes, trying to see if this was just his imagination or if it was real. Then, in one motion, the walls that made up his prison disappeared. Behind them, large magnets all twisted together in a circle all around the room hummed like smooth greased motors of a mad scientist's machine.
This was what held him up
in the air!
He started to shake uncontrollably, and his knees gave out as he fell to the floor. He could see past all the wires and cables running all around the big magnet prison to an open warehouse beyond. The second floor window where he assumed the voice had come from was a suspended office that looked like a cargo container sitting atop thick steep beams. Everything looked vacant for the time being but he knew they were watching him. He pulled himself to his feet as the two ninja's stepped from nowhere and yet they came from the warehouse on the other side somehow. They motioned for him to follow them and they made their way down the hall to the back wall, then they stopped; the two men turned from him and walked right through the wall. It was a hologram, too!

Kirk walked toward the wall as a sinking feeling rushed over him. He could have at any moment just walked through the wall and out to freedom. His mind had kept him there imprisoned and just like an addict the only thing standing in his way was himself. As he walked through the hallway wall, he was standing in the back of what looked like a giant warehouse that stood over one hundred feet tall. He saw bright-blessed sunlight as it streamed into the building through a huge open door at the end of the building.

He squinted as he walked toward the door, shading his eyes from the yellow light that burned into his eyes. When he reached the door, he turned and looked back at the place where he had spent over a year of his life...it was a scary beautiful sight. The engineering and the work put into this building was incredible! He looked one last time, and then headed out into the light, not yet prepared for what he would see next. As Kirk walked out into the morning air, he felt overwhelmed with emotion. He didn't know how to feel, if he should let himself feel anything, he still thought this might be some kind of trap to kill him. Either way, he was free...even if for a moment.

His eyes adjusted to the new light and as he looked around, his heart sank. What he saw was not what he was expecting...
sand
, nothing but sand! The desert was the last place he thought he might be...maybe the city or in some outbuilding in the woods somewhere, but not the middle of the desert. He walked a few hundred feet and then looked back to the building that housed him for the last year of his life; it stood like a giant sleeping monster in the sunlight. Then, just as fast as it appeared, it vanished like a wisp of hot air coming off the desert floor. They had a mask for it; too, he shook his head and sighed in amazement.
I guess that's why they don't care if
I know where they are. It's not like I could find it again any-
way.
Then again, they left me out here to die in the desert so maybe they figure their hands are clean if I die on my own. Just then, he noticed something off to the west that he must have missed. It looked like a city or a small town of some kind; the flashing of the buildings caught the morning light making them twinkle like hundreds of diamonds. "Well,

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why not?"

Wiggling out of the top part of his jumpsuit, he tied the arms around his waist and began to walk. The sun was already heating up the earth and he felt the hot sand under his bare feet. This was going to be hard to explain to his boss back home, if he ever made it home.

________________________________________

MARK HEARD A CAR start then shut off as he came out of the elevator in the dimly lit garage. He had dropped off Maria at her car one level up and then took the elevator down to the second floor where he normally parked. He looked around as he walked toward his car, but didn't see anything unusual; most of the building was now empty and home sipping eggnog with their families.

He spotted a few other cars parked here and there, an old Ford coupe with the license plates hanging to one side took up two spaces. Then he noticed the black Lexus, he had seen it many times before and figured that it belonged to someone in the building. Something inside him made him extra weary, he had this feeling that someone or something was watching him, studying him, and yet everything looked quiet. The lights flashed with a beeping sound as Mark unlocked the door to his BMW...and then he saw it, a package. This, at first, didn't bother him as he stood in shock, it was the symbol that made him stop; he had a dark feeling that he wasn't alone, and now his sixth sense was at full attention. He just stood there looking at the letters, WJA, and then it hit him...he had seen this before, a note he got this very same way right after the accident.

Mark's eyes scanned the garage looking searching for the devil or maybe and angel who was trying to reach out to him. He tried not to move as he looked at every car, with eyes scanning the windows for anyone lurking.
How did they get in?
Nothing was broken into, the doors and locks, from a side-glance, looked fine. Turning around, he looked down the all but empty garage.

Then he saw the Lexus again with a renewed interest. He noticed it on the way in, but it just seemed somewhat out of place, on Christmas Eve with all the work alcoholics well known and Mark was sure he didn't know the owner of this car. His heart pounded as he walked over to the driver's side of the black Lexus.

Nothing.

He cupped his hands, trying to see if he could see through the dark tint on the car's windows. Nothing moved on the other side and he started to worry about someone who might see him and think he was up to something.

You're getting paranoid in your old age
Mark,
he told himself as he walked back to his convertible. Taking the mystery package and tossing it onto the dash, he started the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. His mind rolled over the notion of just tossing the package out the window. He was always getting junk put on his car for free weight loss products or something of equal importance. However, the symbol spiked his curiosity and the fact that it was inside of his locked car made him nervous. As he exited the building, he thought about what this package contained. It looked too bulky to be a note like the last time. Picking it up, he felt it, like a little boy trying to fig-

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ure out what was inside his Christmas gifts.

It felt like a CD or maybe a DVD of some kind. Mark couldn't wait any longer, his curiosity burned and the letters...he had to know what was going on. Pulling off the main road, he parked in the front of a diner under an old street light. Mark tore into the envelope and turned it upside down, a DVD fell out into Mark's lap. He reached inside of the now torn envelope and found a small note that read:

"Surveillance Footage/Super Mart."
The date marked on the DVD was the same day of the explosion!

Mark's heart started to pound as he tried to breathe. His vision started to cloud over with tears as the day of the accident flooded his memory. He lived every day with the thoughts and demons that screamed out that he should be dead along with his family but he shoved them aside like he had done a thousand times before.

He had gone so long trying not to think about that horrible day, and now it all came back in one fell swoop with the little note that he held in his hand.

Was this some kind of joke?
His sadness turned into anger. Who did this...this person think they were? Grabbing the shifter, he threw the car into drive and lurched into the street. He had to get home...he had to see what was on that DVD.

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Chapter Nine

THE SAND BURNED KIRK'S FEET AS HE TRUDGED

through the desert. His face flushed red from the glaring sun as it baked his back and chest with scorching heat. He didn't complain, though, because it was a whole lot better then being trapped on a chunk of metal with a shower once a week. He shielded his eyes with his hands, trying to see how much further it was to the city off in the distance.

"The least they could have done is give my shoes back."

Maybe keeping his complaints to himself wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. The buildings of the city looked to be about a mile off, so he kept walking, dragging each step through the heavy sand. Soon he would be back to civilization and the thought gave him new strength.

After seventy-five minutes, Kirk made it to a small town that sat in the middle of nowhere and that was being nice. From the looks of the people who stared at him as he walked barefoot down the street, the town was somewhere in the Middle East. The buildings were made of stucco and stone, most of them thrown together with not much care to craftsmanship. Some buildings had patches made out of a mix of mud and moss to fill in holes and cracks in the structures. The locals talked in what sounded like Urdu. He had to take a class in collage, on cities in the Middle East for a report and from the looks of it; he was in the center of the food market. Food was set on bright colored rugs and vendors bartered for a good price as they held up their merchandise. Kirk looked at all the food, and his mouth began to water. He had been eating the same slop for over a year now, and the color of the fruits and veggies looked amazingly delicious!

Phone...I need to find a phone
. He looked around at the shops and the run-down buildings, but nothing looked promising; the town was very small, and even the roads were made of dirt and gravel.

He spotted a flash of white up ahead in the crowd and it made him stop dead in his tracks. It was a man with a camera around his neck and not many white people were roaming the streets; he might know English. Kirk ran to catch up with him. He could be a reporter or a hit man to kill him before he made it back home, but Kirk didn't care at this point. The man had a full head of brown hair that curled and piled up on top like a wild bush. His beard was patchy and looked as if he had pulled some of it out with duct tape. Kirk huffed, panted, and tried to catch his breath as he touched the

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arm of the tall man in order to get his attention.

"Do you speak English?" Kirk gasped.

"Um...yes, are you okay, sir? You look like you have been dragged across the desert!" The man had some sort of accent that Kirk couldn't place.

"Well, you could say that. I need to get to a phone right away, any chance you know where there's one I can use?"

"Yes, I have one back at my Jeep. It is a satellite phone and around here, it is the only type of phone that will work. My name is Geoff Martin, National World Magazine." He jetted out his hand as a big smile crossed his face.

"Kirk Weston, Detroit PD." Kirk shook Geoff's hand, glad to meet someone that he could communicate with.

"Oh, a police officer, what brings you to the Middle East, or to be exact the United Arab Emirates?"

"The Middle, how the...uh...well," Kirk stuttered. "Well, I'm working on an investigation...can't talk about it, though."

The last thing Kirk needed was to end up in a magazine or the paper by some dumb reporter.

"I understand, I haven't seen much of anyone from the States, but no worries. Follow me, and I'll get you that phone," They walked down a side street in between two apartment buildings. The clothes of the tenants hung on lines above them, blowing in the breeze like ghosts waiting for nightfall. They came to an open lot where a few cars had parked, and he saw a Jeep sitting off to the left. He could tell it didn't belong to a local due to the oversized tires and Warn winch on the front.