Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After about a half hour of driving, Dash could see that Jon was getting very nervous about something.  They suddenly turned off into a thin road that Dash hadn’t even seen before.  The car bounced along, giving Dash an uncomfortable ride for the next ten minutes. 

Finally, they stopped.  Dash looked around.  The road had ended in a wall of trees.  In fact, they were completely surrounded by trees.  Dash wasn’t used to this, as his family rarely went camping.  Dash suspected this was his fault.

As he reached for the handle, Jon stopped him: “Daniel, listen closely.  I know that you don’t like me.  You may even hate me.  But trust me, your family will be fine.  Remember,” he said with a smile, “Your dad is my brother.” 

Dash thought about mentioning the fact that this hadn’t stopped him from allowing the people he was working for to steal his father away from him, but he chose to hold his tongue. 

“One final word of advice,” his uncle finished.  “There have been some strange stuff going on in these words.  It’s rumored that several beasts that were thought to have been legend have been seen here.  While I have no doubt that the beasts themselves are the result of over-imaginative hikers, there are real creatures out here that would love to kill us both.  I’m the only one with a gun.  I suggest you stay close to me.”

Dash didn’t respond.  He had already decided not to do anything even if he had a chance to.  Right now, his uncle, however dangerous and mad, was probably the only person who could take him to his parents. 

They entered the forest.  Jon was forced to slow for Dash, as Dash’s leg made it difficult for him to move quickly over the forest terrain.  Their progress was further impeded by the fact that there seemed to be no clearly marked path.  Jon seemed to know where they were going, so Dash followed, wondering what was going on.

They had been walking for about ten minutes when Dash heard sounds behind them.  He opened his mouth to ask what it was, but Jon cut him off.  “Move. Quickly.”  Dash thought that he heard a slightly higher amount of fear in his uncle’s voice than before.  That alone spurred him to move faster.  Jon was now constantly looking behind him, and attempting to get Dash to move faster.  Suddenly, Dash’s brace got caught on a vine that had grown across the forest floor, sending him plummeting to the ground.  This one mistake saved his life.  As he fell, he felt the movement of something as it shot over his body.  When he glanced up from his fall and saw what it was that had leapt over him, he lost what little breath he had left. 

The beast was about the size of a lab, and appeared metallic.  Its body was smooth, as if it really was made of metal.  Its legs were bent slightly, and it had wide feet, and long claws.  But what really caught Dash’s attention was its face, if it could be called that. It had no neck, and it’s face was formed completely of needle like objects that started at the end of the mid-section, and curved to a point about two feet from its mid-section.  There were many of these, but they were all organized so as to come down and meet with only an inch or two separating the individual needles from the points next to it.  The only exception was the forhead, which appeared to be covered with the same material as the rest of the body, before dividing into the needles again as it dropped into the region above where it’s eyes would be.  There was a gap about the size of a fist formed by the space they didn’t fill, in the middle of the face, which had to be the creature’s mouth.  There was no eyes that Dash could see, nor were there any ears.  But by far, Dash’s main concern was the needles and claws.  It took him only a moment to realize that his fall had just saved his life. 

The creature focused on him, and Dash froze.  The creature paused, then turned toward what Dash assumed was Jon.  There was a loud bang, and black gunk exploded from one of the creatures’ legs.  It paused for a moment, and for that moment, the only sound Dash could hear was his own heartbeat.  Then, suddenly, the creature turned around and lept away from both of them.  It ran in a method that somehow, Dash felt, resembled a frog on steroids.  It’s back legs seemed powerful, as it moved in great leaps that sometimes ended in it hitting trees or large rocks, and quickly springing off of them.  It vanished quickly; the bullet wound—or at least that was what Dash assumed it had—seemed not to affect it.  

There was a pause as the air seemed to still.  Slowly, the normal activity and sounds of the forest seemed to resume. 

“What was that?” asked Dash, breathlessly. 

“That,” answered his uncle, “was probably what all the hikers have been talking about.  I didn’t realize how true they were.”  He looked at his watch, and Dash heard him swear under his breath.  “We need to move.”  He looked at Dash, and swore, loudly this time.  “Your forhead’s bleeding.”  Dash reached his hand up to his face, and, when he pulled his hand back, his hand did have blood on it.

  “I’m fine.” Dash said, as he got up.  Jon looked upset, but he decided that he couldn’t spend the time to patch Dash up, and they set out, both consciously hurrying their speed, though they still froze at the slightest sound.  Finally, they entered a clearing.  It was only slightly more than a treeless area; Dash couldn’t see the ground through all the brush and other forest objects that covered the forest floor.  There were five people there.  Three were men who wore ski masks that hid their faces.  They also wore black leather vests that had no markings on them except for a strange orange symbol on the top right area.  It was too small for Dash to see it clearly, however. They were spread out; one stood to the left of the clearing, another to the right, and the third in the middle with the remaining two people.  The other two were bound, gagged, and covered in blood, but Dash recognized them instantly: they were his parents.  He attempted to rush over to them, but Jon placed a firm hand on his shoulder, and Dash froze.  The pressure had provided just enough distraction from his parents to recognize that all three of the masked men had large guns, and all of the barrels were pointing at him. 

The man in the middle spoke: “I see you brought the package.  Good.  Place him with the others.”

Jon walked him to his parents.  Dash had realized by this time that, in addition to being bodily injured, his parents were unconscious.  He sat down next to them, only then realizing just how exhausted he was.  He had experienced his parents being stolen from him, had been kidnapped himself, experienced betrayal, had walked for a fair amount of time (about twenty-thirty minutes, he estimated), been attacked by some strange beast, and, just to finish off the experience, had found his parents in a horrible state.  He was ready to call it a day, but it seemed like this day wasn’t even close to its conclusion. 

Once Jon had led Dash to his parents, he spoke to the men.  “Ok, I did all you wanted.  Can I go now?” 
The man standing over Dash and his family answered again, with a slight chuckle in his voice, “No, not yet.  I like having you where I can see you.  It keeps you from trying anything…dangerous.”

Jon frowned, and for a second, there was another emotion on his face.  Was it fear?  Anger?  The man behind the mask couldn’t tell, and that disturbed him.  He made a mental note to ensure that Jon disappeared after this encounter.  You never could tell just how far a man would go before his training caught up with him.  But that was side business, and he needed to focus on the matter at hand. 

Dash’s parents were beginning to wake up.  Dash tried to fill them in, but it seemed like, in a matter of seconds, both of his parents were aware and knowledgeable of their surroundings and past events.  Both of his parents complained of massive headaches, but Dash was ecstatic to have them awake again.  In a strange way, now that they were awake, he was beginning to feel like they might make it out of this situation.  It was then that his father noticed the masked man standing over them. 

As soon as that occurred, it was like Dash’s father had left, and a beast had taken his place.  His father charged the man, moving amazingly fast for a man who had just taken a nasty beating.  The masked man moved quickly, dropping his gun and swinging a punch aimed at the head.  It struck air.  Dash’s father had ducked under the blow, grabbing the man’s arm with one hand, which left his other hand in the perfect position to swing a quick, firm punch that connected hard with the side of the masked man’s head.  The man collapsed, and Dash’s dad charged again.  For a moment, it looked hopeful.  Then, there was a loud thwack, and his father collapsed on the forest floor.   

Dash felt the breath go out of him.  He heard his mother scream, but it didn’t register.  It seemed like, after just getting one of his parents back, one of them was about to be stole away from him again.  The man who his father had knocked down slowly got up, shaking his head and chuckling.  Dash decided then and there that, if he ever heard that chuckle again, it would be the last time that man ever made a sound. 

“You really thought you could beat me.” The man said, gazing down at Dash’s father.  He then looked over at Dash and his mother and narrowed his eyes.  Dash hadn’t noticed before, but the man’s irises were jet black.  It scared Dash.  Those eyes weren’t natural.  “Don’t worry.  He’s not dead.  Yet.  It was merely a tranquilizer” The man said smoothly.  “You two, on the other hand…well, it seems that we may have to change our plans.” 

The man walked over and picked up his gun that he had dropped.  He raised it smoothly, and pointed it at Dash.  And then he pulled the trigger.        

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Once the beggar was gone, I took a moment to decide what to do.  A change in clothes seemed first in order.  I went into the gas station again, and used the restrooms to change into the new outfit.  It wasn’t much— jeans and a t-shirt —but it was nice to have a clean outfit.  I tossed my dirty clothes in the trash.  At this point, I didn’t want the extra weight, and my dad probably wouldn’t mind.  I smiled to myself.  With all that had gone on today, I was still thinking about whether my dad would mind.  Some habits would never go away. 

After a moments decision, I decided that I would take a chance, and follow this fellow’s lead.  Investigation the hotel room normally would have been a routine step, but I figured that by this time, all the evidence would have been fully documented and taken out of the building. 

In order to follow the tip, I needed a ride.  This was an easy problem to solve.  I had a driver’s license, and the government issued car that I was using was parked a few blocks away.  Luckily, I still had the keys, and in a few moments, I was sitting in the passenger seat of a 2011 black Jeep Grand Cherokee. It was a nice ride, but now I need to decide where I wanted to go with it.  This was a problem. 

Back in the initial training period of the MDI, there had been virtually no teachers who actually took us seriously.  In their eyes, we were a bunch of teen FBI copy-cats with no business doing half of the things they taught us to do.  And with some of us, they were right.  Those that my dad judged inadequate quickly vanished from the training program until there was only four of us left.  I was one of them.  Anyway, of the few teachers who did take us seriously, one was a old field agent for the FBI named Charles.  He was an overly-cheerful sort, but always prone to sudden moments where he was dead serious.  I was having a private conversation with him about a problem he had given us earlier that week when he had one of those moments.  The problem involved looking at a series of facts (or in this case, a single fact) and figuring out what observations these facts lead you to make.  The problem was that the only fact that he gave us seemed useless: it was a map of an imaginary city. It had all the standard labels: street names, major locations, ect., but it also included current investigation areas.  These were areas that the authorities were somehow checking out, either by moles, raids, or other modes.  The problem was that I didn’t know what I was looking for.  I knew that I needed to note observations and facts, but nothing really stood out.  I felt like I was staring at a key and not knowing what door it went into.  So I did what I still do today when I don’t know a solution to a problem: I ask for help.  Charles went over the map with me, showing me patterns in locations that were marked, and helping me figure out how those patterns might affect an investigation.  Once he finished, he leaned closer to me, and said in a hushed tone, “But you’d be wrong if you only looked at where people are.  If you look where other people aren’t, you are highly likely to find something others aren’t.”  He then proceeded to point out a small, circular area on the map where there had been no police activity for a fair amount of time.  “That,” he said, “is where any good criminal would hide, and where any good police officer would look after a crime had been committed.  Rarely observed, and yet with enough activity around it to make your average officer forget about it entirely.  And that is where you must look: where no one else is.” 

It was pretty confusing at the time, but now I understood what he was talking about.  There was probably plenty of officers looking.  What I needed to do was to find where they weren’t.  And for that, I needed my dad.  A quick phone call was all it took; within moments I was driving along the highway.  There was a lot of ground to cover, as my dad had informed me.  There was road blocks all over, but there was plenty of forest that the kidnappers could have escaped to.  I was looking for a good place to start, when my eyes were unexplainably drawn to what appeared to be a narrow road in the tree line on the right side of the road.  Acting on instinct, I swung into the narrow road.  The ride was bumpy; there obviously hadn’t been much traffic on it, but, judging from the way the weeds appeared trampled down, there had been at least one car through here earlier.  The more I thought about it, the more certain I became: if these guys wanted to pull off a kidnapping, what better way to escape than through the woods.  The Rockies are huge, and while it was risky, they may have decided that it would be safer than taking the highway.  I stopped the car, and called my dad.  He answered promptly. 

“Karson here.” 

“Dad, I may have found something.”  I briefly explained my theory.  There was silence from my dad.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

More silence.  Then my dad said, “Keep checking it out.  It’s probably nothing, but go ahead anyway. Karson out.” 

I smiled.  There wasn’t much reason for me to smile, but my gut was telling me that this was something, and I thought that was reason enough.  I restarted the car and started following the road.