X Evangeline Summers
My heart hammers against my ribcage and fear clouds my mind. Thinking straight isn't an option anymore as the only thoughts that race through my mind are filled with negativity. They can either kill me, hold me hostage till I turn fifty, sell my internal organs on the black market, drug and ship me to the other end of the planet or I could wind up at some prostitution institute with a bad case of amnesia.
'Think' I instruct myself, inhaling deeply to organize my thoughts. How can I get out of this situation? I know absolutely nothing about my mothers current whereabouts and nor do they. So how will my mother be notified if I'm kidnapped. Do they expect her to nonchalantly waltz back into our home, grab me by the arm and take me to her hideout?
Feeding them a buffet of lies isn't much of an option nor is jumping out of a moving vehicle. It's two against one and they're much stronger.
"I don't know anything about my mother's pseudocide, I doubt you'd get anything out of holding me hostage."
The two kidnappers in the front seat burst out laughing. Nothing, absolutely nothing in this nerve-wrecking situation is funny. Or are they laughing because they've planned an extremely painful bloodbath for me?
"What's so funny? You're about to kidnap me and break the law, what's so amusing about that?"
"The fact that you actually took us seriously", Logan manages to choke out from in between fits of laughter and here I thought kidnappers and policemen had to keep a stone cold composure.
"So I'm not going to be kidnapped, drugged and shipped halfway across the world, held hostage till I'm fifty or have my internal organs sold on the black market?" I inquire to make sure.
"Chocolate! Where do kids even come up with such terrifying ideas?"
"Don't call me that", I deadpan "and I'm not a kid."
"We're actually just returning the favor. Your mom told us the exact same thing when we were young", Dax explains.
"You knew my mom?" I ask surprised. How did my mom even befriend a bunch of panic-mechanics?
"Yup, she looked after us when we were little. Took us in when we lost our parents and then helped us find a permanent family."
"I'm sorry", I mumble, guess we're in the same boat. "When did all this happen?"
"18 years ago, when we were 6 our parents died in a car accident, it was a hit and run. We were returning back from a holiday and then the weather took a turn for the worse. Some other car crashed into ours, my parents died and we survived. The next morning your mother found us and well...the rest is history."
"I-I'm sorry", I mutter. They lost their parents when they were so young and they're still happy. And me? There's a chance that my mother might be out there, alive. Yet I'm acting like the Grinch.
"So you guys are fraternal twins, right?"
"Whose more handsome?"
"Puh-lease it's obviously me", Logan jokes. Or at least I think it's supposed to be a joke.
After a few minutes of silence the car comes to a stop and I take in my surroundings. This can't be right. I've been to the lab quite a few times with my mother and even memorized the route in case of an emergency, this area is off route. It's nowhere close to the lab. What was my mother even doing here?
Loitering?
Pitstop?
Sidetracked?
On a vacation?
Or did she simply lie to me about where she was going?
"Don't you guys already have the forensic report on the car, why do we have to come here, it eerie", I grumble tracing the edge of the yellow caution tape with the pad of my thumb. That's strange, my mother's car looks like it's been...spray painted?
Who the hell had the sheer audacity to spray paint an enormous X on the car, the windshield is smashed, the hood is badly dented and one of the doors in the backseat is completely off its hinges. I bet mom must've hit her head or snapped her neck. Oh, mom.
"Apparently one of the nearby residents saw your moms car fall off that bridge but they claim to have seen her climb out before the crash and dragged away to another SUV", Dax explains pointing to Logan and a young woman.
"Are you sure they're not flirting instead of talking?" I inquire as I watch the woman twirl a strand of her red hair and playfully slap Logan every now and then.
Dax shrugs, "Could be. Her statement supports our theory about your mom committing pseudocide. The more gruesome the death looks and sounds, the less likely people are to believe that she's alive."
That's what I initially thought as well, but after listening to the red heads statement, I've changed my mind. "You're future sister-in-law said that my mother was 'dragged' to another SUV. She didn't willingly walk to another SUV and climb in."
He eyes me, skeptically "are you saying that because you're involved?"
I chuckle, "if I was involved I wouldn't be bawling my eyes out."
"So what's your point?"
"I think she was abducted."
~*~
I lay on my mother's bed, exhausted. I've searched every inch of the room in hopes of finding another clue that can give me a hint as to why she was abducted. Her MacBook must be at the Lab along with her other research materials. I doubt she was abducted because she invented a lethal chemical weapon that can end humanity. That stuff only happens in movies.
My gaze guiltily sweeps the now untidy room; the wardrobe door wide open, messy heaps of clothing scattered around the room, half open books lay on an over clustered table, the dresser drawers wide open and even the bathroom isn't spared.
There's one shelf I haven't bothered to check, the a-trip-down-memory-lane shelf. I mean, hiding clues in a bunch of old albums that date back to the nineteen hundreds? There's always a possibility, but my inner sloth says 'No.'
And that's when something peculiar catches my eye. My mother suffers from OCD, naturally she arranges her things in a certain order, however two albums adjacent to each other are much taller than the rest.
As I slide the two albums out, the wall adjacent to the shelf gives away and my eyes nearly bulge out of my sockets. Major Scooby Doo much!
I guiltily open the wooden cupboard, pulling out a bunch of letter addressed to my mother. My eyes scan the words only for me to cover my mouth, horrified. My guess was right, the TACAM were blackmailing my mom.
They were threatening her with her life in exchange for Carter. They want my foster brother; the guy who taught me how to play the guitar, the guy who grew up alongside me, the one who is always there for me. They want him! Is that why my mother asked me to protect him?
Why did they even want Carter in the first place?
And who is the TACAM?
Sounds like a shady cult.
Maybe a secret government organization.
A company, perhaps?
For some reason it sounds like a camera company.
I then pull out a photograph of my mother by the X-Wood Lighthouse on the day of her graduation. It was a photo of mom, dad, Chance's parents, Celeste Howard and some foreign guy. . . dude. . . man.
Our parents are high school sweethearts who went to college together, moved in together, got married and had us. Gone is their long preserved friendship which they carefully grew and strengthened. I guess time can erode even the hardest rocks.
Weird part is, why did my mom keep some old picture in a secret compartment? Unless its a hint to her current whereabouts.
The X-Wood Lighthouse and the gigantic X on her car, add up. It equals to Middletin. The place where they all grew up, had us and formerly lived. The place where we found Carter.
The place where it all began and the place where its going to end.