Said To Contain

My mind was racing so fast I thought it might tie itself in a knot and cause an aneurism -- or something equally as fatal. Several hours had slipped away since I last spoke with Janet... she should've called me back by now. The night had given way to morning, my eastward race taking me directly towards the fiery hot sun on the horizon.

  Houston came and went with no word. What the hell was happening to my boy? Terrible images flashed through my head -- scenes of him suffering at the hands of some filthy alien tormenting me as I pushed Big Red for every ounce of speed she could muster.

  I was still a thousand miles away from him; there was nothing I could do to protect him. The only comfort was in the knowledge that, if I kept moving at a decent pace without any further diversion, I could be with him within fourteen or fifteen hours. What might happen to him in that time period horrified me, though... I couldn't stop wondering if he was okay.

  Evander Hughes seemed to be in as much of a hurry to reach our destination as I was. The Navigator was matching my speed in front of me, pulling away occasionally as his lack of patience got the best of him. He would disappear into traffic ahead for a minute, then eventually slow and wait for me to catch up. I couldn't see him through the tinted windows, but I knew he must've been frustrated that we couldn't go any faster. Had my tractor been equipped with rockets, I would've loved to light them up; throw caution to the wind and race as quickly as we could towards my ex-wife's home.

  Somewhere between Houston and Beaumont, my cell phone finally rang. I snatched it off the dash so quickly I lost my grip and dropped it. Retrieving it required me to take off my seat belt and nearly stand in my seat while the cruise control kept me rolling.

  "Misses Jan?" I shouted anxiously. "Did you talk to Sammy? Is he okay?"

  "Oh my God, Randy -- what the hell is going on?" She replied, my heart dropping at her words. Her voice was strained, her own concern very evident. "I went to the house, and no one was home... all the cars were there, but nobody was inside! I beat on the doors and windows hoping they were just asleep, but I didn't even see anything moving! I got worried, so I called the police! I begged them to break into the place, but they wouldn't! They said the best they could do was to file a missing persons report if they didn't show up within twenty-four hours!"

  "Twenty-four hours? We can't wait that long!"

  "I knew you wouldn't be satisfied with that; I could tell by your voice when you called that something was terribly wrong! I didn't want to call you before I found them, so I checked both Cindy and Dan's jobs, but they weren't there either. I was worried about Sammy, so I came back to the house and smashed out a window to climb inside..." She paused, her rapid breathing indicating that she had witnessed something she wished she could erase from her memory.

  "What did you see, Misses Jan?" I prodded forcefully, trying to make her say the words that she seemed hesitant to speak. Her only response, at first, was sobbing. "Janet, you have to tell me what you saw!" I ordered. "Is Sammy okay?"

  "I don't understand!" She wailed. "What in God's name is happening, Randy? Who would've done -- done this to Cindy and Dan?"

  "Done what?" I asked. "What happened to Cindy and Dan?"

  "Jesus, I don't know! Help me, Lord, protect me from the demon that could do something like this to people!"

  "God damn it, Janet!" I yelled through a cracking voice. "Are you in the house now? Tell me what you see!"

  "I can barely tell it was them!" She revealed. "There's so much blood! So many little pieces! It looks like they've been cut up, Randy -- a little bit at a time! They're spread all over the house! What's left of their faces look so horrified! Like they suffered tremendously and were in terrible pain when they finally died!"

  Janet was crying harder than I'd ever heard anyone cry. She gasped for air between bouts of elongated sobbing, both fear and grief ringing through her agony. The sounds she made alone were enough to start my adrenaline pumping; let alone the story. She sounded like a condemned soul, suffering in the throes of the hottest flames spawned of Hell. It was getting the best of her; an instinct to pray threatened to pull her away from reality all together each time there was even the briefest pause in our dialogue.

  "Misses Janet!" I shouted again in an effort to keep her talking. "What about Sammy? Did you see Sammy?"

  "He's not here, Jesus God!" She wailed. "Thank God, he's not here! Maybe he wasn't here when it happened? Maybe he didn't see this? Hail Mary, Mother of God!"

  "Stop -- Stop!" I insisted, trying to keep her feet firmly planted to Earth. "Listen, Misses Jan! You have to find him! Get back in your car and go looking for him! Maybe he ran off -- he can't be far!"

  "I don't know what to do, Randy! They're DEAD!"

  "You have to go, Janet! Go find Sammy -- NOW!"

  Janet’s crying and praying suddenly gave way to silence, leading me to check my phone to be sure I hadn't dropped the call. She was still on the line, but wasn't saying a thing.

  "Oh shit!" She finally yelped as I heard the muffled speech of a man's voice in the background. "It's the cops, Randy! The cops are back here!"

  "Make them help you find Sammy!"

  "Jesus, they're gonna think I did this Randy! I'm covered in blood -- I slipped in it when I came in! What do I do?"

  "Get out of the house! Somebody has to find my boy, damn it! Get out!"

  "They're coming!"

  "Freeze lady!" The male voice commanded, much louder and clearer now than it had been before.

  "I didn't do this!" Janet cried.

  "Get on the ground, right now!"

  "Help me, Randy!"

  "On the ground!"

  Suddenly there were sounds of a struggle, several thumps followed by hurried footsteps and the click-click-click of handcuffs being applied.

  "Please!" Janet begged them. "There's a little boy missing! You have to believe me, I didn't do this!"

  "My God, Sarge!" An officer moaned. "I've never seen anything like this!"

  "Get her out of here -- call CSI."

  "Wait!" I yelled, hoping one of them would hear. "Is anybody there?"

  There was more rustling, then the line went dead. It was like being in a nightmare; my family was under attack, and I was entirely helpless.

  Christ, why didn't I just do what Misty had asked? Why didn't I drop this load in Dallas and let her do whatever those monsters wanted to do with it? Whatever they were, whatever they wanted with what was in my trailer; it had cost my boy's mother and her husband their lives, and Sammy was in terrible danger. I should've let them have it... I had no idea it would come to this.

  I tried to call back, but it went straight to voicemail... they'd either busted or turned off her phone. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to call the Tampa PD. A woman dispatcher answered, asking how she could help... I wasn't sure exactly what to say; she'd never believe that some alien force was acting through people and conspiring against me.

  "Listen," I began. "Your officers just detained a woman on Cornel Street."

  "At the Hazlet residence, yes." She replied.

  "My son lives there -- Sammy Johnston." I explained. "He's missing! I need you to put the whole damned department on trying to find him; he's in danger!"

  "There's nothing we can do about that, sir." She answered strangely. "Everything is in your hands."

  "Excuse me?"

  "If you turn around and head for Dallas, Randy, this can all be put behind you."

  "What?" I recoiled. "What do you want? Jesus, who are you people?"

  "There's no need for panic, sir -- just take the trailer to Dallas, and your son will not be harmed. Whatever Hughes is telling you is a lie -- we don't want to hurt anyone. We only want what's ours."

  "Fuck you!" I hollered. "If you touch my son, so help me God I'll --"

  "Your God can't help you, Randy." She said. "We're your only hope now. Get to Dallas, before it's too late -- fo
r Sammy."

  My phone made a strange buzz and then went dark. I don't know how or why, but it was fried. I tried plugging it in, popping off and replacing the battery; everything. No matter what I did, it showed no further signs of life.

  Despite her inflammatory suggestion, the thought of heading for Dallas was now out of the question. I've never done anything under threat, and I wasn't about to start now. How dare these things threaten me? How dare they put their hands on my boy?

  I had been frightened before, but now I was pissed. I'm not a violent man, and I've never wished death on anyone -- but if I had the power to destroy each and every one of those creatures, whatever they were, I would've done it at that moment without a second thought.

  They clearly wanted whatever it was that I had in my trailer -- but they weren't going to get it... not if I had anything to do with it. They had crossed the line -- simply gone too far. The threats Misty had made about using Sammy as a bargaining chip were bad enough; actually taking him, though -- killing his mother and stepfather... that was more than I could allow them to get away with. I would make them pay for what they had done...

  For all I knew, my boy was already dead... the very idea tore my heart out, but I had to be realistic with myself. Hughes had said these things were savages -- everything I'd seen of them confirmed that suggestion.

  They obviously weren't at all concerned with human life, nor those of their own for that matter. At The Booby Trap, they had tried to block our exit with their bodies -- who does that? Would someone -or something- willing to go to those lengths be reasonable enough to spare a child for the sake of negotiation?

  Not likely... I needed more answers, though; about what I was hauling, about the things that were chasing me, about this DETA that Hughes spoke of... about Hughes himself. I didn't understand what I had gotten myself stuck in the middle of, and the lack of that basic understanding of the stakes made all of this much too difficult for my simple mind to process.

  It was so much to absorb, but I was doing my damndest to figure everything out. I tried to block out the anger -- to think about what was happening.

  These intruders, if you will, had earned themselves the top spot on my shit list with their tactics -- but why were they doing this? Were they even capable of having a purpose, or were they simply murderous demons?

  Maybe they were fighting for something important to them? something as valuable to them as my boy is to me? Perhaps their situation was so dire that drastic measures were called for? Maybe I would do the same things, if our roles were reversed?

  Hell, maybe the government of these United States had done things like this on my behalf already when circumstances made it necessary. Maybe this was the purple-eyed equivalent of water-boarding? Either way, I needed to know what was going on. Hughes was the only one with the answers who seemed interested in saying anything to me besides go to Dallas. I needed him to talk...

  I thought about playing my cards hard by pulling over and refusing to move until the man in the Navigator satisfied my curiosity; he seemed as determined to get this load to Cape Canaveral as those things were to get it to Dallas... surely, he would chirp -- if I squeezed him hard enough.

  That would only serve to delay things further, though -- and I needed to get to Tampa as quickly as was possible. If Sammy was alive, I intended to make sure that he stayed that way. The answers would come... one way or another.

  Chapter 16