Sweet Dreams (6 page)

One hundred pounds of flour, twenty-five cases of Mac
and Cheese...
All the items on the P.O. looked like they came from the same place,
Simco Foods.

Good,
he thought, shoving one of them in his pocket.
We've got a lead.
He looked through the rest of the files and didn't find anything about who they bought their bedding from. He wrote down a note to himself on a beat up old notebook that he kept in his back pocket, to remind himself later to look into it. Closing the file drawer, he headed back to the hall and wandered around and looked into a few of the cellblocks but nothing seemed out of order, nothing except the missing prisoners. Once he was back in his Crown Vic and driving again, he glanced up at the sky and saw one out of place cloud that looked down on him like a big brother waiting to give him a swift punch to the arm. Kirk turned on the radio and found the 80s rock station.

His left arm held the steering wheel firmly, and just the bottom of a tattoo showed under the sleeve of his white Tshirt. His forearm revealed a scar from a bullet that grazed him last year. He could still feel the rain as it fell like a flood making it almost impossible to see more then ten yards in front of you. He had run down a suspected drug trafficker and as soon as Kirk showed his badge, the idiot ran. Kirk pounded

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pavement after him and cornered him in a dingy alley, behind a laundry mat on Sixth Street back in Detroit. It ended in a wet bloody shooting with Kirk hit but not bad and the idiot dead with two well-placed bullet holes in his heart. Kirk rubbed the scar and adjusted his dark sunglasses; he patted his .45 Glock that sat nicely in his side holster and remembered what his instructor had said over and over again--
never leave home without it.

The sun would be setting in a few hours; he wanted to scope out the food warehouse before it closed. He knew he had to work fast before his boss got wind of it.

"Whatever! I'll just tell him one of the little dead convict's momma told me her little boy had a friend that works there." He smirked and then turned off the expressway and headed toward the northeast.

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Chapter Four

whispers from the morning sun to its true love the lowering moon. The sheer white curtains allowed a few beams of warm light to fall on Marks face as they tried to gently wake him from a deep sleep. Mark rolled over, trying to trick his mind into believing that it was still early and he had more time to sleep then he did.

Warm October air drifted through the window, filling the room with the scent of maple trees and roasted coffee beans as it mixed with the diner a block up the street. Groaning, Mark looked over at K as she slept, he touched her soft skin and traced the outline of her face. She was everything to him, he thought of how he was happy, and for a brief moment, he wished that he could freeze time. He wanted to be like this forever, to lay next to his true love, his soul mate and drink in her beauty. "Good morning, honey." He watched as K opened her eyes and smiled. "It's ten o'clock. We should get going. I think check-out is at eleven." K mumbled something, and then snuggled deeper into the pile of pillows and blankets.

Mark forced his legs to move, stumbled to the bathroom, got the shower going, and stepped in. The hot water hit his back and he sighed as he began to wake up from the morning fog his brain had left him in, he could feel the steam fill his nostrils.

"Baby?" he yelled from the bathroom.

"I'm up, Hmmmm," she moaned, "that is one comfortable bed."

"What?" Mark yelled as the water drowned out the sound of K's voice.

"Nothing, hon. I'm going to definitely need a coffee today," she mumbled as she pulled herself up out of bed. Leaving the shower going, Mark slipped out of the bathroom and pulled a towel around his waist. He snuck up behind K, who was going through her suitcase looking for the new powder pink shirt she had bought yesterday, she knew Mark loved her in pink so she thought it was worth the price tag. Mark grabbed K from behind, making her jump and scream.

"Mark! Stop! You scared me!" Pushing him on the bed, she turned and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her so she could take a shower in peace.

Mark laughed as he grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on. He was a comfort person; that is to say, he liked to have on a broken-in pair of jeans with a T-shirt. He didn't

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mind a suit, but only if he had to.

After they checked out of the hotel, they drove to K's parents' house. K grew up in what most people thought of the Hamptons. She and her older sister Lily had a white horse they affectionately named
booboo
. At one time, they had ten acres but her Dad had since sold off most of the land to be developed, but still had one acre left on which they ran a beautiful bed and breakfast. The horse was getting older but was still alive and was pampered by the visitors of what her parents called
the getaway
.

"After we get Sam, I need to go to the store to get a few things for dinner tonight." K looked up from the grocery list she was making out.

"I think the Super Mart by our house has an office depot across the street, and I need to get a few things there anyway."

Mark looked out the window of the Honda at the city as it bustled with energy. "I'll just drop you off, then run over there, and pick you and Sam up after I'm done."

K nodded in agreement. She was always up for saving time. She knew Mark would wander around forever, looking at the newest computerized device or gadget.

After just over half an hour they pulled into the driveway leading up to the light blue three-story house, Mark could see Sam waving at them from the front bay window with a huge smile on her face.

The House had a circular drive with a pond in the middle of the circle. The pond housed bass and a few ducks who thought it was a great place to soak up some sun. Mark parked the Honda and met K's parents at the front door. "Mom, dad. Thank you so much for watching Sam overnight."

K's father Bill had a kind face and smiled with full white teeth. "It was our pleasure, she is lots of fun, besides
booboo
needed a little girl to ride her, she misses the little ones." He held out Sam's backpack and shook Marks hand. K hugged her Mom and her dad and thanked them again for babysitting. "Anytime you two, we love having her around," Holly had graying hair pulled up in a bun and was slim and fit for a woman of her age; she still walked a mile every day rain or shine. "Nothing makes you feel young like a child."

Sam hugged her grandparents, ran to the car, and jumped into the back seat. She climbed into her booster seat and waited to be buckled in. After more goodbye's and thanks, Mark opened the car door for K and then walked to his side and got in.

As they drove away Sam waved good-bye to her grandparents through the side window and giggled as she began to tell them all about her adventures. "Granpa tickled me, and Gramma gave me candy and...and..." was all Mark heard from the back seat. The chatter continued all the way to the store in a torrent of laughs and giggles.

Before Mark realized it, the Super Mart came into view and Mark pulled into the parking lot. Going over the speed bumps at a crawl, he put the car into park in front of the store entrance. K opened her door, grabbed her purse, and walked around to get Sam out of her car seat. Sam giggled as K unbuckled her. "Can I ride the horsey?" Sam asked, referring to the horse ride that sat next to the front of the door. Smiling and rolling her eyes, K leaned in and kissed Mark

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through his window. "I'll be about twenty minutes or so. Love ya." She looked radiant without even trying, and Mark couldn't help but smile.

"Okay. See you in twenty." Rolling up the window, he turned the wheel, making a left down the middle aisle, pointing the car toward the office depot on the far end of the parking lot. Glancing in his rear view mirror, he could see K holding Sam's hand as they went through the sliding doors and into the store. Mark put his foot on the brake as the hair on the back of his neck
stood
up on end.

"Wha...?" The sound of a high-pitched whine filled his ears as a single man bolted from the store at a full run. He could see the fear and absolute terror on his face and Mark was frozen in time, just staring at the lone figure in the mirror. It was as if time was irrelevant and seemed to slow to a dead stop. He felt as if he was frozen, trying to move, but every limb felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His hands were cramped to the steering wheel. His heart stopped.
Was
this what death was like? The absolute helplessness and the
sense that your body was being ripped from time and space.
Then the sound overtook him as it shot through his body like a bolt of lightning. He could feel the rush of air go by him as it threw him forward in his seat.
This was the one time he
wished he had listened to K and worn his seatbelt.
His body slammed into the steering wheel, and the car filled with a blinding light and a heat that began to melt the headliner and the plastic molding on the interior of the car. The rear window burst under the pressure of the blast, and glass went flying into the front seat, shattering into a thousand pieces as his head hit the front windshield making a dull
thud.

Mark
couldn't
feel the glass digging into his back, but he could taste the iron warm blood in his mouth. He couldn't feel anything and his mind was temporally frozen in fear or just shock he didn't know.

He heard the sound again and this time he could put it into words in his mind. "KABOOM!" Mark escaped his nightmare and regained the use of his limbs and hopefully his wits. He reacted with lightning fast reflexes and ducked down with his face smashed into the leather seat as the rest of the windows exploded into a million daggers of death. The car lifted off the ground like a rocket that just hit the
blastoff
part of the countdown. The silver Honda flipped end over end followed by a fireball that pushed over fifty other cars in what looked like a huge wave on the sea but not made of salt water but rather metal and molten fire. Mark covered his head with his arms, and jammed his legs into the floorboard wedging himself against the seat and the door, trying not to get thrown from the car.

The force was like a merry-go-round pulling everything away from the center of the vehicle as it tumbled through the air. Mark pushed with everything in him, trying desperately to keep from being thrown from the vehicle. The car landed on its roof, slamming Mark from his hiding place, and slid to a halt, crashing into a light pole about one hundred yards away from where he had started.

Blood ran from Marks arms and back but he didn't notice, all he could hear was a high ringing in his ears. A small fire was beginning to burn into the leather and fabric of the caved in cab where Mark was lying when he seemed to notice that this was not the best place to be at the moment.

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Slowly, Mark crawled out of the broken window, dragged his legs through, and rolled onto his back. The sky was blue with a few scattered clouds floating lazily across the open expanse as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on in the world.

Mark gulped in a deep breath not knowing that he was holding his breath. His confused brain was sparking and sputtering as if trying to re-boot. His lungs burned as he took another deep breath and blood oozed from his side. He did an inventory check of damaged parts and could tell that he had a few broken ribs and from the pain in his back he guessed that he was a dartboard for glass shards. His head was spinning, and he tried to focus his eyes.

He scrambled to his feet and turned to face the supermarket where his family had been.
"Where was the store?"
His mind raced. He tried to take a step toward where he thought the store should be when his legs gave away, and he fell on his elbow onto the crushed glass and concrete splitting his forearm open and sending a flash of hot pain up his arm. Flames and thick black smoke filled the air. It was raining bits of metal and fire all around him, and all of the cars within a one-hundred-yard radius had been thrown away from the front of the store like a tidal wave. Cars were on fire, and one let out an explosion as the gas tank caught fire and the fumes ignited. One man lay draped over a mangled shopping cart, with his leg, missing from the knee down, he was dead, and a pool of ruby red blood began to make its way toward the drain a few feet away.

The air left his lungs and he choked back the need to vomit. The building was all but gone, through the fire and debris, Mark could see that the walls were sheered off at about four feet high. Pipes and metal, along with brick, were piled up in the outer rim. From the looks of it, the blast had been in the center of the store.

Rushing to his feet, he found the strength to stand then he ran.
This can't be happening!
He thought as he bolted toward the building. Only a matter of minutes had passed by from the blast until now, but it seemed like it had been hours.

"K!" he screamed, reaching the spot where the front doors used to be. He started to dig into the mass of bricks and rubble. "Sam!" He cried. He refused to believe that they were...

"NO!"
They were alive, they had to be! This was a mistake
--

"not like this," he sobbed, "not like this."

His hands were soaked with blood as he dug in the dirt and concrete. He found a strap, it looked like Sam's backpack, and a fresh flood of hope filled his heart as he pulled. The strap was only three inches long and was burnt at the end but it was Sam's. He threw his head back and screamed yelling out to God to save his little girl but only feeling the cold stone sky in return.

Tears ran down his face, and he tried to wipe them away, but that just made it worse. He could feel the world spinning, and then, his head hit the dirt making a new cut on his forehead, which began to bleed at once.