Fredrick had to think on his feet. He wasn't a very big fan of Stacey, but he wasn't just going to watch her get dragged away. He thought about running back in to inform their parents and alert security, but Stacey could already be long gone by the time he raced back into the house.
He had started taking karate lessons, but he never finished it. He was just a red belt, but he knew a couple kick-ass moves. So, he decided to call his father instead. He put the ringing phone in his pocket, and decided to go after them himself. Hopefully, his father would pick up the phone and know to get help.
He heard them murmur something, it sounded like a chant, but the language seemed strange. He walked stealthily towards them; his set of keys held between the spaces of his finger. One of the things he learned in one of his self-defense classes was to make anything and everything into a weapon when fleeing was no longer an option.
The men were so engrossed in whatever it is they were doing that; they didn't notice him walking over.
"Hey! Pick on somebody your own size!" Fredrick said, before punching the man who hit Stacey in his side.
He positioned himself immediately to tackle an attack, but instead, the hooded men left Stacey's body on the ground and disappeared into the woods.
Fredrick was shocked at how easily they fled. Were they just petty thieves that Stacey happened to bump into?
"Stacey! Stacey!" He called, shaking her lightly. There was no response. He quickly checked her pulse, and let out a sigh of relief when he felt it.
He looked around to be sure there was no one else with them, before lifting Stacey into his arms. She weighed a little more than he expected, not that he knew what to expect, but still… He took some seconds to balance her in his arms before walking into the house. The fierce feminist he knew felt so fragile in his arms. He had to still be in shock at what just happened because, that would be the only explanation as to why he suddenly had the urge to want to protect her, and keep her in his arms.
He dismissed the thoughts as quickly as they had formed and increased his strides.
"Dad! Mr. Brown!" He yelled as he managed to push open the door.
Susan was the first one to run towards them and couldn't keep her mouth from falling open as her eyes fell on Stacey.
"What happened?" Mr. August asked, his voice laced with worry.
"Lay her down on the couch. Honey, get some ice." Mr. Brown instructed, rushing over to Stacey's side.
"Fred, what happened to Stacey, why is she like this?" Mr. August asked again.
Susan rushed back into the living room with an icepack, and handed it over to her husband.
"I heard some strange sounds coming from the back of the house. So, I decided to check if that was Stacey. What I saw however, was two buff looking men dressed in black trying to make away with her."
Susan's eyes widened, "Make away? Why?"
Fredrick knew the question was rhetorical, but he answered either way. "I don't know ma'am. All I know is that I saw her try to run from them, when one of them snuck up behind her and hit her. That's why she passed out."
Mr. Brown was livid with anger. How did those people enter into his home undetected? A lot of people were not only losing their jobs, but would also be sleeping in a detention center.
He called for the security team at the gate, ready to have some people's heads on a stake. But nobody answered. After several times without a response, Mr. Brown knew that something was terribly out of order. He called the police immediately and reported a break in.
"What did they say? Are they on their way?"
"They'll be here in thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes? That's too long."
"Can we please take her to the hospital? That blow was enough to give anyone a concussion. Then maybe someone could stay back to talk to the cops when they arrive." Fredrick offered, still a little shaken.
Stacey moved, wincing as she tried to sit up.
"Stacey, slowly." Susan said, helping her up.
"Are you alright?" Mr. August asked.
"My head…" she lifted a hand to support her pounding head. Her fingers grazed a swelling on her cheek that shot a painful, throbbing sensation through her body. Then the memories of the attack began flooding her mind.
Her father tried the security team again. There was a response this time. In a few minutes, they arrived the building, looking all drowsy.
"Someone better have a good explanation. Were you all drinking on duty?"
"No sir. There were some intruders."
"That's old news. What I want to hear is how and why you let those two rascals into my property."
"Two? They were more than that sir. I do not know the exact number because it happened so fast, but they were definitely more than five of them."
"Five? Fredrick here, saw only two people when he went looking for Stacey. And what do you mean by 'it all happened so fast'? What happened?"
Another of the security personnels took up the explaining. "A white minivan drove to the gate, when we were about to change shifts. So, every single member of the team was at the gate. Then, a very young lady and a man stepped out and asked if this property belonged to the Browns. While I was trying to find out who she was, the man suddenly threw some balls over my head to where the others were standing. Before I could do anything or raise an alarm, the lady tased me. Next thing I knew, I woke up to see the rest of the team sprawled on the floor."
"Let me have the security footage for the last four hours."
They hesitated, looking between each other as if trying to decide who was going to be the sacrificial lamb.
"Are you all deaf?"
"There's… a little problem with that sir." The first man who spoke stuttered, looking like he was about to spew blasphemy.
"And what is the problem?" Mr. Brown thundered.
"The security footages are all gone."
"Gone? What do you mean by gone?"
"They've been cleared sir. We don't know how they managed to hack unto our systems within such a short…"
"Shut up! All of you, get out! And you better get your stories straight and ready for when the cops arrive."
They were all about to scuttle out of the living room when one of them raised a hand, "excuse me sir." He said with a trembling voice.
"What?"
"I memorized the car's plate number before we all passed out."
"You did?"
"Finally! Someone amongst you that knows why he was hired."
Fredrick gave him his notepad to write down the number before they were finally dismissed.
"Now, Stacey, do you remember what happened? Can you talk?" Susan asked softly.
"Yes mum. I finished with my call and was about to come back into the house when I heard something move in the bushes. I turned on my phone to check what it was, and there he was, a man in a mask."
"Did he take anything from you? Your phone maybe?"
"No. he didn't seem interested in mugging me. But he knew exactly who I was, because he called me by my name, Stacey Brown."
"What?"
"So, they weren't just thieves then." Fredrick intercepted, thinking aloud.
"No, didn't seem like it. The figure I saw suddenly sprang at me and put a hand over my mouth. When I tried to escape, another one hit me, and I passed out."
"When he called your name, what did he say?" Mr. August asked.
"He said I should not have come out there."
"Is that all?" her father asked.
Stacey's forehead furrowed as she tried to remember any other detail she might be forgetting.
"I remember he was muttering something, but I couldn't make out the words."
"Like a chant…" Fredrick added, drawing everyone's attention.
"Yes, like a chant."
"Fred, how do you know that detail?" his father asked, brows raised.
"Because when I found Stacey, they were still chanting something. It wasn't English though."
Mr. Brown and Mr. August exchanged a worried look, could it be what they feared?
"Oh, one more thing. There was this burning sensation I felt on my arm when one of them held me. Right here…" Stacey said, raising the left sleeve of her dress.
"Stacey, what is that weird, glowing tattoo on your hand? And when did you get it?" her mother asked.
"Tattoo? I didn't get any tattoo."
Everyone drew closer to take a better look at the 'tattoo.' Stacey's father and Fredrick's father exclaimed almost at the same time.
"Oh no!"
"Oh no!"