War, p.18
War, page 18
part #2 of A Journey Through Hell Series
Grabbing another can, she whipped it.
The man dodged, but his foot got tangled up in the legs of a stool in front of the island and he fell hard, the bat clanging to the tile floor.
Annabelle, seeing her chance, jumped over the man holding his nose and bolted down the hallway. As she ran, she remembered playing hide-and-seek in the house with her husband and daughter. Drew would run down the hall, flick on Stephanie’s light switch and slam her door, but would then quickly turn and hide behind the bathroom door across the hall. Seeing the light on, Stephanie always headed straight to her room and, as she passed, Drew would reach out and grab her.
Running to Stephanie’s room, she opened the door, dropped the flashlight, and slammed the door shut.
“You’re dead!” one man said, and she heard him get up and make his way down the hall.
Annabelle still had the knife in her back pocket and reached behind her to grab the handle. Taking the bait, the man walked past the darkened doorway and flung open Stephanie’s door.
He stood there a moment, trying to find her, not knowing he was backlit by the flashlight.
With one swift motion, Annabelle pulled the knife from her back pocket, took a step forward, and brought it over her head. Holding it with both hands, and using her forward momentum, she plunged the knife downward, stabbing him right at the base of his neck. The blade pierced the man’s spinal cord, and became lodged between cartilage and bone. No longer having control over his body, the man fell forward, slamming into the door and sliding down, then crashing onto the floor.
Annabelle, still holding the knife as the man fell forward, could not stop her own momentum and fell on top of him, driving the tip of the knife through the front of the man’s throat. Laying on top, she shivered at the horrendous gurgles coming from the dying man. The body twitched twice, and then both the twitching and the gurgling stopped.
Climbing off, she picked up the flashlight and then heard a loud bang from the kitchen. Slowly, she made her way back toward the kitchen. Halfway down the hall, she saw the other man’s legs sprawled on the floor. Approaching, she noticed marks in the blood, indicating he’d slipped trying to get up. She spotted blood dripping from the granite island countertop and shinned the light on the perpetrator’s head, illuminating a nasty gash.
Annabelle stood there for a moment, shocked. The only sound came from the man on the kitchen floor, now taking weird, short breaths that didn’t look or sound good. Catching her own breath, she flipped the hair out of her face before searching the man for his keys. She then quickly finished packing up the pillowcases, and loaded them into her new wheels before driving off.
Chapter 34
Rockefeller Center, New York
“Are you ready?” Glen heard in his earpiece.
Sitting at the news desk, Glen looked up at the digital clock hanging below the camera and nodded his head.
Chris glanced up at the monitor for camera one which was located in front of the news desk, and noticed Glen was ready to go. “We’re live in 3...2…1,” Glen heard in his ear.
At the press of a button, Chris introduced the video he’d created for their triumphant return, which replaced the SMPTE rainbow-colored bars.
Glen heard Chris in his ear again as the ‘On-Air’ light came on. “This is the first live broadcast after the worldwide pandemic. The film is rolling, and the timestamp is in place, marking mankind’s continued evolution of endurance and survival. And it will be you leading this new world as we rebuild,” Chris said.
A smile washed over Glen’s face. His lifelong dream to become the number one anchor in the business was not only coming true, but now he surpassed that goal by becoming number one in the world.
Mr. Williams pumped his fist as the monitors in the control room displayed the video airing live, which was being broadcast worldwide through various satellites.
“Twenty seconds until the package ends,” Chris announced into the mic.
With his foot on the pedal to control the teleprompter, Glen waited for the light on top of the camera to change.
Sitting there, he counted down the seconds in his head when suddenly something surprising happened. Glen felt himself getting aroused. It was more than just aroused; he had a full-blown erection.
Shifting in his chair, he accidently tapped the prompt button for the teleprompter, causing the words to scroll up.
“What the hell is happening?” Mr. Williams yelled.
Glen tried wiggling to adjust his manhood and ease the pressure as it began pressing up against the inside of his pants. What the hell! he thought. Not now!
“I think he froze up,” Chris said.
“No shit, you don’t say!” the old man retorted.
Glen heard Chris’s voice in his earpiece again, “Are you okay?”
Arching his back, Glen reached into his pants on live TV and moved his erect piece to the side, so it was no longer pressing up against his belt and zipper.
“You good?” Chris asked.
Glen nodded and gave a thumbs up sign with his right hand. He tapped the rollback button on the footpad with his foot and the teleprompter started over again.
Glen took a deep breath and started. “Good evening, America. I’m Glen Daniels and I come to you live from New York City.” A lump formed in his throat, causing him to pause. He had rehearsed the speech several times, yet the levity of the situation hit him all at once.
“I’m not quite sure what to say,” Glen said. Looking down, he noticed the chemical stain left on the desk from cleaning up after Bethany died and a lump formed in his throat.
“Glen, you okay?” Chris asked into the mic.
Taking yet another deep breath, Glen wiped the tears from his eyes, and after a moment, he spoke.
“I never thought I’d see this day,” he said, ignoring the teleprompter.
“My friend and colleague Bethany Rogers died right here at this desk, live on the air,” Glen said, as he moved his notes, exposing the stained desktop.
“Get a close-up of that!” Mr. Williams shouted to Chris, who toggled the camera above the news desk and zoomed in on the blotchy stains.
“She died doing her job. She died trying to warn you, the viewers, of the danger that was spreading. While visiting several hospitals in the city, she interviewed many doctors, nurses, and patients, trying to understand how the virus spread. Unfortunately, she too became infected. I honor her by picking up the torch and carrying on. Like Bethany did, we will bring you the news - just the news. The days of journalists and reporters putting their own ‘two cents’ on a story and spinning it to fill their narrative is over.”
Glen’s shoulders rose and fell as he took another deep breath, then looked back up towards the camera. Tears welled up in his eyes until they spilled over, running down his cheeks. Sniffling, Glen wiped his nose using his thumb.
“I’m at a loss for words over all that we’ve endured.” Glen used his thumb to wipe his left eye. “All of us have lost friends and loved ones, but we’re still here,” Glen said, “And I guarantee they would want us to push on.”
He sat up straight in the chair and took yet another deep breath. “The time of the virus has passed. We must not be afraid to go out, and we cannot hide forever. But, it’s okay to be cautious, and if you prefer, wear a mask around others. Get out and connect with others who have also survived. We must help our neighbors and accept help from others when offered, if we wish to survive.”
Glen took another deep breath and continued.
“We will have tough days ahead, but we will also have good ones. Strive for the good days. Do your part as a human to help your fellow man. Together there’s nothing we cannot do.”
Glen paused and looked around at the empty the newsroom. “This studio was once bustling with people working hard to bring you the news. It will take time, but I expect to see fresh faces around here soon!”
Staring into the camera, his top lip began quivering, “And like here, you will meet fresh faces too. I promise I will be here for you every day. I…,” Glen stopped himself, “No, that’s not right, I mean We. We will bring you the critical news you need to stay informed every day and beyond. We will be here for you as well as the new faces you meet.”
Glen glanced at his papers, searching for the right words to say next. Unity not diversity, he thought and looked into the camera. “No matter where you are on the globe, you are not alone. We are all in this together. From this day forward, we will no longer be separated by race or creed. We are all human and the human spirit can endure anything!”
“This message will repeat at the top and bottom of every hour, so others who tune in may discover it. Twenty-four hours from now we’ll be back on with another live broadcast.”
Scrambling, Chris typed and scrolled until he found what he was searching for. Pushing a button, a world clock appeared on the screen.
“Currently, it is 5:00pm here in New York. Please note the time difference based upon where you live, as we will see you tomorrow at this same time. Until then, take care of yourself and help others who are less fortunate.”
He finished with, “This is not goodbye; this is until tomorrow.”
Chris pushed another button, and the new global logo displayed on the screen. Using the same station letters, Chris came up with a new acronym for WTFH:
World Together Finding Hope.
In the control room Mr. Williams sighed in relief. “I thought for sure he was going to screw that up,” he said. But damn, he turned it around.”
Chris smiled and nodded. “He did good. Real good”
The dark entity stood next to Mr. Williams; happy its plan was coming together.
Chapter 35
Paxton, Nebraska
Maureen sat on the porch rubbing the cold from her fingers and hands before reaching into the fresh pack of cigarettes that Bill purchased on his trip into town. Pulling one out, she placed the filter in her mouth and sparked up. Staring down at the lit end, she watched as it glowed red hot, then turned ash gray before a thin line of smoke trailed upward.
The smoke filled her lungs while the taste of tobacco clung to her tongue, which brought back memories from when she picked up the habit.
She was fifteen years old and in immense pain. First, her father backhanded her, followed by a heavy punch to her left side. If she had done nothing, her mother would have died.
It was a Saturday night and her parents ordered subs from the local sandwich shop. Maureen’s mother ordered her favorite, a steak and cheese sub loaded with all the fixings, but on that night, there was no joy in it. Accidentally, her mother swallowed a large unchewed piece of steak which became lodged in her throat, blocking her airway.
She rushed to the sink and reached into her mouth, trying to remove the blockage. Each attempt was unsuccessful.
The seconds ticked past like minutes. Maureen watched as her mother turned around with eyes bulging with fear and held her hands to her larynx, displaying the universal sign for choking.
Maureen raced to her mother’s aid and began administering the Heimlich Maneuver just as she learned in Health Class. Unable to clear the obstruction, Maureen looked to her father for help, but he just sat there taking bites out of his sandwich.
“Help her!” Maureen screamed, staring at him.
He put his sandwich down, stood up, and wiped his shirt before strolling over nonchalantly.
She assumed he would take over, so Maureen released her grasp and stepped back. Her father walked over, but instead of helping his wife, he raised his hand and backhanded Maureen in the face. The force of the impact caused her to lose her balance, and she fell backward against the countertop and slid to the floor.
Stunned, Maureen stood up and reached to help her mother again, who was turning blue. Before she could even get her arms around her mother, her father threw a hard-right jab which landed just below the ribcage on her left side. The pain was immediate and intense, which caused her to double over, and she felt sick.
Maureen looked up and saw the evil in her father’s eyes as he stood there staring at his wife. His look was disturbing, like he wanted to watch her choke and die.
Sucking up the pain, Maureen stood up again, grabbed her mother around the waist, and thrusted upward with all her might. A wet, chunky sound escaped from her mother as the dislodged piece of steak sailed into the sink.
“Are you okay?” Maureen asked and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“Yes, dear,” her mother replied, wiping her mouth and breathing hard.
Her father sat back down and started eating his sandwich again.
“We need to leave,” Maureen whispered as she draped her arm over her mother’s back.
“I can’t,” her mother sighed, tears in her eyes.
“Mom, he’s going to kill all of us if he gets a chance,” Maureen said before glancing over her shoulder at her father.
He glared back at her, chewing his sandwich. Her mother touched Maureen’s already swollen face, causing her to flinch from the pain. It would leave a bruise for sure.
Maureen had enough of her abusive father, so she packed a bag and ran away to her friend Cathy’s house. Paula, Cathy’s mother, took one look at Maureen’s face and told her she could stay. Paula told the girls she had an abusive boyfriend years ago, and that she understood the predicament Maureen found herself in.
Cathy stole two cigarettes from her mother’s pack and handed one to Maureen and told her it would help calm her nerves. That was it. After the first drag, she was hooked.
The next morning, after discovering Maureen had run off, her father called the police.
Later that evening there was a knock at Paula’s door. Cathy peeked out the window and spotted a police cruiser along with Maureen’s father’s car out front.
Paula told Maureen to run downstairs and hide in the basement behind the water heater.
Maureen heard Paula talking to the police and told them she was not there. One police officer said he knew Maureen was inside and told Paula she would be in trouble for lying to the police.
Again, Paula denied Maureen being in the house.
“I know she’s in there!” Maureen heard her father yell.
“She’s not here!” Paula said, raising her voice.
“Well, we’re searching the house,” one officer said.
Not wanting to get her friend’s mother in trouble, Maureen decided it best if she left.
She crept out the bulkhead, careful to close it quietly behind her, and made her way across the backyard. A tall, white picket fence surrounded the property and the only gate led straight out to the driveway.
Her heart pounded away in her chest as she feared being captured and brought back home. Unable to scale the fence, her only escape was to climb the oak tree in the back corner.
The thick bark dug into her skin as she clutched and shimmied up the trunk. Grabbing onto a branch, she hauled herself up branch after branch until she was above the top of the fence.
Frantically, she kept looking over her shoulder, fearing being caught at the last minute.
She crawled out onto the branch that jetted out over the fence. Maureen glanced back one last time and saw her father step out onto the back porch. Fearing being caught, she was left with only one option; she let go of the branch.
She hit the ground hard but caught herself before falling over into the fence. Then she adjusted her shoe before running off into the darkness of the night.
Penniless, Maureen made her way to the local diner. Once inside, she headed straight toward the bathrooms but went to the payphone beyond. Pretending to be on the phone, she waited for a large table to leave. Maureen hung up the phone and made a beeline for the empty table. She snagged the cash tip as she walked past and caught up to the group leaving and walked out right behind them.
Hitchhiking, she caught a ride to the nearest bus station. With the stolen tip money, she bought her first pack of cigarettes from a vending machine.
Maureen sat in a bathroom stall smoking and biting her nails. She didn’t have nearly enough money to buy a one-way ticket to nowhere and even contemplated going home, but instead prayed to God.
In that instant, an opportunity walked right in and presented itself.
A woman came in and sat down in the stall next door and accidently tipped over her pocketbook, sending her purse tumbling out while relieving herself. Maureen picked it up, grabbed all the cash, dropped the purse and bolted before the woman could wipe and pull up her pants.
A large map of the country hung inside the terminal, and an idea hit while standing before it. She closed her eyes and spun around three times. With her index finger out in front of her, she walked over to the map until she touched it. Opening her eyes, she smiled and headed to the ticket counter.
Three bus transfers, forty-eight hours, and sixteen hundred miles later, Maureen arrived in Nebraska.
Chapter 36
Crescent City, Florida
Billy woke up to the sound of cheers and clapping. The little boy rubbed the sleep from his eyes and trudged his way downstairs.
Just before reaching the bottom of the stairs Billy stepped on the squeaky tread and his mother, Betty-Sue, turned and saw him coming down the last step.
“Did we wake you?” she asked apologetically.
After a few steps into the living room, Billy realized his mother and grandparents were standing around the TV, while his uncle Dave was asleep on the couch.
“What’s all the excitement about?” Billy asked.
“The TV is working!” his mother said gleefully.
“It is!” Billy said excitedly.
“Yes, it is dear. Your Uncle Dave got it working!” Grandma said, looking over at him passed out on the couch.
“Are my cartoons on?” Billy asked.
