The Secret Manuscript
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Vanessa was smart, and was asking all the right questions. Unfortunately for Ben, it made answering some of them a little awkward. Before answering her last question, he hesitated. The long pause became uncomfortable and indicated there was something he did not want to reveal to her.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me.”
“I’ve done some things to make a little bit of money — things akin to fixed sports betting, things that may be considered unethical by some. But you should know, whatever I did, I didn’t harm anyone.”
“I appreciate you being honest with me, Ben.”
“I’m sorry for getting you involved in all this. That is my only regret.”
“Do you think they’re still out there?” Vanessa asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll go check.”
Ben rose to his feet and opened the door a crack. All seemed to be calm as he peeked down the hallway.
“The hallway is empty, is that common for this time of day?” Ben asked.
“It’s the exam period of the fall semester, so there are no more classes. Why don’t we just stay here and call the police, or at least campus security?”
“Do you have your phone with you?” Ben asked.
“No, do you?”
“No.”
“My phone is in the lab, I can go there and get it and you can stay here where it’s safe.”
“No, I can’t let you go out there, it’s too dangerous. I’ll go, wait here.”
Ben stepped into the hallway and his instincts kicked in. There was an eerie feeling that consumed him. Something just did not sit right with him; it was almost too calm. Ben slowly walked down the hallway, leaving Vanessa behind in the storage room. His footsteps were soft beneath his trembling legs, and his breathing was controlled to minimize the noise. Internally, Ben was freaking out.
In the hallway, he was exposed — a sitting target out in the open. If the men blocked off both ends of the hallway, he would be trapped with nowhere to run. Running back to the storage room was also not an option since it would unnecessarily put Vanessa in harm’s way, and he could not allow that to happen.
He continued down the hallway until he reached the stairs. From there, he would have a vantage point where he could assess the situation better. When he got to the stairs, he grabbed the railing and peered over the ledge. Oddly, he did not see anybody. Just then, Ben was grabbed by the back of the neck and shoved into a set of lockers. The impact was thunderous and echoed down the hallway. Ben collapsed to the floor and struggled to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him. The attack was sudden and unexpected; Ben had no time to comprehend what had happened. As the brawny man approached, Ben’s eyes cascaded upward, taking in the full scope of the enormous man that towered before him. Ben nearly soiled his pants in fear.
Without saying a word, the man grabbed Ben by the shoulder straps of his backpack and flung him like a rag doll against the opposing wall. Ben’s entire body compressed as it collided with the lockers. Again, he fell to the floor and writhed in pain like a wounded worm. He had still yet to recover from the first attack.
“Get up,” the man demanded.
Ben could hardly breathe and barely move, so getting up was a difficult task for him. The man grabbed Ben by his backpack straps again and lifted him up off the ground with ease. Ben’s body was limp as his feet dangled freely in the air.
“Where’s the device?” the man asked.
Ben remained silent.
“Wrong answer.”
The man set Ben down and dragged him through a doorway and into a vacant lab. Ben scrambled to get his feet under him, but the moment he regained his balance, he was thrown to the floor. He hit the ground hard and slid for a few feet on the polished linoleum. The man followed Ben inside then shut the door behind him.
“I’ve got some questions for you and I expect honest answers. I’m not here to play games with you. Is that understood?”
Ben coughed a few times, but eventually nodded in agreement.
“Where is the man who’s helping you?”
“What man, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben answered.
The goon took a step forward and clenched his fist. Ben cowered and turtled up in a ball, anticipating the beating he was about to receive, but it never came. Ben opened his eyes and peered through his arms, which were up to protect his face. He gazed up at the goliath standing over him.
“You’re pathetic, you know that?” the man said. “I actually feel kind of bad hitting you. You are so weak and scrawny. But I assure you, I have very little patience. So I’m going to ask you again. Where is the device and the man who is helping you?” the man said succinctly.
“Honest to God, I’m telling you the truth. I received notification one day that a man named Charles Gringer had passed away and that I inherited his estate. I moved out to Calgary the next day and have been living in his house ever since. I didn’t find any personal effects of his laying around the house and I certainly have never heard of him prior to receiving that notification.”
“You said you received notification that Charles Gringer passed away?”
Ben nodded.
“I assure you Charles Gringer is not dead, he is very much alive and seems to have taken a liking to you. Whatever connection he has with you, we intend to use it. So for now, you’re more valuable to us alive, but that can change the moment you stop being so valuable, if you know what I’m saying.”
“With respect, sir, I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Let me spell it out in simple terms so you can understand. You are going to lead us to Charles Gringer.”
“Two seconds ago, I thought he was dead. How the hell am I supposed find him?”
“You’ll have to figure that out, and something tells me you are about to get very motivated to find him.”
Ben did not understand what that statement meant, but he soon found out. Just then, the door opened and the man’s partner entered. He had Vanessa by the arm and was pulling her against her will.
“Now, tell us what you know or we’ll hurt your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend, I’ve never seen her before in my life!” Ben shouted.
“What did I say about playing games?” the man said. “Break her arm,” he instructed his partner.
“No no no, wait, don’t hurt her. I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
At that moment, Ben had an important decision to make. Before he answered, he reviewed what he was about to do — forgo a life of riches for a woman he barely knew. It was the ultimate hero’s sacrifice. He looked over at Vanessa with a shameful look on his face. He felt terrible for getting her involved in all this. Her fate was resting on the next words that came out of his mouth so he chose his words carefully.
“In the house,” he began. “I found a manuscript containing details of past, present, and future events. I’ve been using it for my own personal gain. If you let her go, I’ll tell you where it is.”
“Give me your backpack,” the man said.
Even though he had done some morally reprehensible things in the past, he was not about to let Vanessa get caught up in the crossfire of his problem. Ben took off his backpack and slid it across the floor to the man’s feet. The man picked up the bag and practically ripped it open like a bag of potato chips. The bag was empty.
“Where is it?” the man asked.
“I’ll tell you where it is once you let the girl go.”
For a moment, the two goons wanted to pummel Ben for the mere suggestion of negotiating with them. However, from their standpoint, Vanessa was incidental — a means to an end. They were not looking to hurt her, they just wanted answers. Now that they were about to get those answers, they complied with Ben’s request.
“Very well then,” one of the men said as he shoved Vanessa toward him. The force was enough to knock her off h
er feet. She stumbled forward, tripping right into Ben’s arms.
“Vanessa, you need to get out of here. Run and don’t look back.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”
She hugged Ben and whispered in his ear. “Should I get the manuscript before they do?”
“No, it’s not worth it. They’ll never stop coming after me unless I give them what they want. Just go.”
Vanessa stood up and ran out of the room. Ben waited a few seconds to give her a head start before returning to his feet as well. His body was sore, but nothing that would not heal by next week.
“Now tell us, where’s the manuscript?”