The Man From Taured (6 page)

"Can you help us?" The three children asked in unison. "We're lost. Can you help us?"

Noble fell over backwards and tried to scramble away from these three nightmares. Somehow the reaching shadows and red eyes were better than these three soulless, eyeless children. And the children reached for him, their hands extended, the fingers bent into claws, walking toward him.

"Help us!" They said in voices that were devoid of life, like listening to some artificial intelligence doing an approximation of what a human voice should sound like.

Noble opened his mouth and screamed.

***

Noble's eyes shot open. The room was so dark he had a moment when he thought he might have been back in that dark hallway
.
Then the ceiling came into focus above the bed turning slowly. He shifted his body and Cookie made a soft whining noise and then adjusted herself. Henry raised his head and looked at him, sniffing the air. Olivia slept peacefully beside him. Everything was right where it was supposed to be. That should have comforted him, but it didn’t.

Noble rubbed his eyes. He looked at his cell phone and saw that it was just after three in the morning. His bladder was full and he was thirsty.

He slowly removed himself from his wife and dogs and shuffled into the bathroom. Cookie and Henry followed close behind since they always found his bathroom activities particularly fascinating. When he was done, he shuffled down the stairs. Cookie and Henry followed as well, running around his legs excitedly since this was not a normal thing and anything out of the ordinary might result in food or treats.

At the bottom of the stairs, he hooked a right, with his eyes half-closed and stepped into the kitchen. Behind him all three dogs were now running around and sniffing the ground, one of them drinking loudly from the bowl of water. Noble opened the fridge and removed the pitcher of water. He took a long drink and watched the dogs before closing the door.

LISTEN TO HIM.

It was on the fridge again.

Noble frowned. Then he cocked his head to the side and re-read the message.

He reached out and rearranged the letters again. Nope, he thought. Nope, nope, nope. This was not happening. He could not imagine that Olivia had left that message. She would have no reason to and there was no "him" that Olivia would want him to listen to.

Goosebumps ran up and down Noble's arms and legs. His entire body felt cold.

Noble returned the pitcher of water to the fridge and closed the door. He studied the magnetic letters a bit more. There were no other messages.

He turned and saw all three dogs standing there, tails wagging, heads cocked to the side. Noble smiled and reached into the treat jar and distributed appropriately.

Now that the dogs were happy, he felt that he had to make himself feel better. Exactly how he was going to do that, he did not know. His bed had never seemed more attractive and he decided that more sleep would be a good idea.

Noble walked back up the stairs with his four-legged posse behind him. He shambled down the hall and climbed back into bed, the dogs following. He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling fan, Cookie curling up beside him and licking his face.

Who was he supposed to listen to? Who was sending him a message? Who were these shadow people? Were they watching him right now? What had happened to Francis Duveen? How was he connected?

All those questions ran around and around his head.

Despite these troubling queries that currently had no answers, at some point he finally fell asleep.

Noble awoke the next morning feeling rough. It was a chore to get through his morning routine of walking the dogs and taking a shower. He wanted more than anything to call in sick and stay home in bed, but that was not possible, he had to knuckle down and get this day done and over with and then get to Washington.

He ate his breakfast with heavy-lidded eyes and drank two cups of coffee before he got to his car. Before he left the house he kissed Olivia, said good-bye to the dogs and was soon on the road. Thankfully, he did not get into an accident on the way. His head was filled with questions and he was reviewing his schedule in his head for the rest of the day. He had several more interviews with people associated with the flight and most of them were scheduled for today. He also needed to talk to Heath Matthew, the guy who was an expert in faking videos. 

Ugh, he thought, the last thing I need is a trip to Washington, D.C. He needed a vacation. Things were turning weird and Noble was worried he was losing his mind.

Noble pulled into the parking lot and was in his office minutes later. He sat down in his chair, leaned back and rubbed his eyes. He needed coffee, but just as he was getting up, Denise Kellner entered the room. Noble did not have an assistant, but there were several admins that worked for agents like Noble and Denise was one of the best because she had been here the longest.

"Hey, Noble," Denise said. "Geez, you look rough."

"Thanks, Denise, your encouragement is always key to me getting my job done," Noble replied. "What's up?"

Denise handed over a Post-it note. "A guy from MIT, Dr. Lance Shaw, called. He says he has key information about Flight-190 and the man who vanished. He says you need to get in touch with him right away. Urgent stuff."

He looked at the note. Nothing much there. Cases, even the ones they tried to keep secret, always got out and you got calls from cranks. This had that feel even with just those few words.

"Who is he?" Noble asked.

"Some doctor from MIT," Denise repeated. "I already ran the background stuff on him. He's legit. He's been with MIT for fifteen years and is tenured and everything."

"How could he have information about Flight-190?" Noble asked.

"He didn't want to say, but he says he can help explain what happened," Denise said.

"How on earth would he know?" Noble asked. He felt something inside him start to clench. If some professor at MIT knew about this case that meant that things were leaking and if things were leaking, there would be problems for the case. "Jesus, someone's been talking, Denise. What the fuck?"

"I figured maybe someone from the team had reached out to him," Denise said with a shrug. "They're smart guys and this is a weird case. I figured if it wasn't you then someone else had reached out to find this guy."

Noble held up his hand in surrender and admission that he was being cranky. Denise was not to blame for this. This was something to bring up to his boss and the rest of the team.

"Sorry, rough night," Noble said. "This case is getting to my head."

Denise did not leave.

"Is there something else, Denise?" Noble asked.

Denise handed over another note. "Eveline Paulson called. She said she has questions and more information for you."

Now that was interesting. "Thanks," Noble said. "I'm going to get coffee and then call her right back. Look, can you take some time to do another background check on this Dr. Shaw guy? Who the hell is he and did someone reach out to him? Anything else. Did he write articles or papers? Does he have a website, even a profile on the MIT or some university website?"

Denise said she would and Noble followed her out of the office and down the hall to the nook where there was coffee. It looked like brown sludge, but it was full of caffeine. He took the cup back to his office, shut the door and then sat down. That first sip was like drinking gasoline, but he felt the immediate rush of caffeine.

Noble reached out and grabbed the phone. A moment later Eveline Paulson's phone was ringing. She picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Eveline, this is Noble Randle from Homeland, how are you?" Noble asked.

"Oh, I am not doing so well, Mr. Randle," she said. "Some weird things have been happening since you and I talked and I wanted to ask you about that."

Noble was suddenly very alert and not feeling quite so tired. He had been learning all about weird lately.

"What's been happening?" Noble asked.

"Well, I've been seeing things," Eveline said. There was a tremor in her voice. "Things in the shadows. Red eyes. Things that look like men in the shadows around the house and in my house."

Eveline choked back a sob.

"Is that you guys?" She asked. "Are you watching me?"

"No, Eveline, that is not us," Noble took a deep breath. Did he want to tell her that he had been seeing things, too? "We don't do that kind of thing. You may just be tired, Eveline. Maybe you need to take some time off."

“It’s more than just shadow men. There are… There are kids, too."

Noble felt a chill run its way up his spine. Suddenly his dream from the night before came back into full focus.

"Children?" Noble asked, his voice strained.

"Yes, children,” Eveline said. Noble could tell that she was just barely holding herself together, the tears were close. "They come to my door at night."

"Ms. Paulson, we definitely would not send children to anyone's home," Noble said. "What do these children do?"

"They ask to come in," Eveline replied. "They tell me that they're lost and that they want to come in and use the phone. Mr. Randle--"

There was a pause and Noble listened to her breathing, trying to get herself composed. It was a losing battle.

"What, Ms. Paulson?" Noble prodded.

"They have no eyes," Eveline said. "They look at you with black eyes. I haven't let any of them into my home. They're the devil. What's going on?"

Noble sat back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know, Ms. Paulson," he said. "I've seen the shadow figures, too."

"You have!" Eveline said, her voice raising an octave or two. "Oh, my God, Mr. Randle, what is going on here? Who was this man and what was he doing?"

"I wish I knew," he said. "Are you available to talk today? Maybe this evening?"

"Yes," Eveline replied. "Yes, I have time tonight. Can you come by my apartment about six?"

"Yes, I can make it," Noble said. "Look, don't answer the door. Stay home, keep your doors locked, and do not open them. Not for children, shadow men, or even your mother. OK?"

"Yes," Eveline whispered, there was relief in her voice. "Thank you."

Noble hung up the phone and sat there for a moment staring at the receiver as if it were a snake that might bite him.

Children.

Children with no eyes.

Shadow people.

"We have really gone through the looking glass," Noble whispered.

Noble snapped out of his trance and frantically looked through his pile of papers and found the phone number for Chris Whitlock. A moment later he was punching the numbers and listening to the phone ring and ring at the other end. It rang six times.

"Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Christopher Whitlock," the message said, "I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave a name, message and phone number, I'll get back to you."

Then there was a tone.

Noble hung up the phone. He looked down at the information in his hand. There was the address and it wasn't too far from the airport. In fact, it was in a suburb called Schiller Park, right near the airport.

Whitlock had already hinted that he was seeing things. What was he seeing? He had seen the shadow men, that was obvious, but what about the creepy black-eyed kids? Or was there something else out there? Some other nightmarish thing?

Noble checked his watch. He had the interview with the head of the flight attendant crew in ten minutes.

Noble got up, grabbed his notebook and headed down the hall. At the back of his mind was the name Dr. Lance Shaw. What the hell did he know, how did he know it and what the hell was going on?

***

Transcript of Interview

Date: June 16, 2014

Time: 9:15  a.m. CST

Person interviewed: Christene Burnham of International Airlines

Interviewer: Noble Randall of I.C.E. on behalf of Homeland Security

Subject: Strange occurrences on June 3, 2014, Chicago O'Hare Airport International Terminal.

Noble Randle (NR): Thank you for coming, Ms. Burnham.

Christene Burnham (CB): You’re welcome. I’m not sure what I can do to help you, but I’m glad to help

in any way possible.

NR: You were on Flight-190 from Spain on June 3, correct? In fact, you were the head flight attendant?

CB: That’s correct.

NR: While you were on that flight, did you see this man in any of the seats?

CB: No, he does not look familiar.

NR: Was there anything strange at all about that flight?

CB: Nothing that stands out. It was a very smooth flight. No one complained and all of the passengers

were behaving. Nothing really that stands out at all.

NR: Where did you go after the flight landed in Chicago?

CB: The crew all met together in the terminal and headed through customs together. All of us had the

night off and I had a flight back out to Europe the next morning, so I wanted to get to the hotel and get some sleep.

NR: Did you see anything strange when you were in the customs area?

CB: Nothing really. I heard that there was a bit of a commotion with a passenger who was on our flight,

but there was nothing going on when I got there.

NR: Did any of the crew see anything? Anything that you discussed at any point?

CB: If they did, they didn’t mention anything to me.

NR: OK, thank you, Ms. Burnham. I appreciate you coming in here and talking to me.

CB: Can I ask you a question?

NR: Sure.

CB: Was there something weird that happened with that flight? Some kind of weird government

experiment or something?

NR: Why are you asking that?

CB: I keep seeing strange men in suits and hats lurking outside my house. I just figured they were

connected to the government or something.

NR: Strange men? What do they look like?

CB: Well, they lurk in the shadows, so they’re hard to see. I can see they are wearing long coats and

wide-brimmed hats. They must be wearing some kind of night-vision goggles, because I can see red where their eyes should be. Is that you guys? Are you spying on us?

NR: No, Ms. Burnham. We are not following anyone from Flight-190. Can I ask you something else, Ms.

Burnham?

CB: Of course you can. That’s why I’m here.

NR: Have you seen any strange children?

CB: Children?

NR: Strange children at your front door?

CB: No, Mr. Randle. That is a very odd question.

NR: Yes, I suppose it is. OK, sorry for the odd turn there. You can go now. Thank you again.

CB: You’re welcome. So, who are these weird people outside my house?

NR: I wish I knew, Ms. Burnham. I wish I knew.

END OF INTERVIEW

***

Transcript of Interview

Date: June 16, 2014

Time: 11:15  a.m. CST

Person interviewed: Captain Craig Culp of International Airlines

Interviewer: Noble Randall of I.C.E. on behalf of Homeland Security

Subject: Strange occurrences on June 3, 2014, Chicago O'Hare Airport International Terminal.

Noble Randle (NR): Thank you for coming in, Captain Culp.

Graig Culp (GC): My pleasure, although I can't imagine I'm going to be much help.

NR: You were the pilot for Flight 190 on June 3, correct?

GC: I was.

NR: Was it a typical flight?

GC: It's a route I've done many times.

NR: So there was nothing unusual?

GC: Nope.

NR: There was no disruption from any of the passengers?

GC: If there was, no one brought it to my attention. So, no.

NR: I see. Nothing at the departing gate and nothing at the arrival?

GC: Well, there was one thing, I guess.

NR: What's that?

GC: Well, I hesitate to even bring it up. I think it was just me, after a long flight. You know, you get so

connected to the plane when you're the captain. I've been flying for a long time now and there's very little I haven't seen or done inside an airplane. When we landed in Chicago and pulled up to the gate, while I was waiting for the ramp to get pulled up, I thought I felt something strange with the airplane. It was just for a second, a kind of vibration. I thought maybe the ground crew had hit the plane with the ramp and I was angry about it. That could damage the plane and we'd get delayed. When I looked out the window, though, the ramp was in place and the side of the plane was just fine.