Chapter 3

Wednesday, April 16th

6: 00 P. M.

"Emmett, is that the door?" Emily said, looking up from the blueprints he had been showing her.

Doc looked up too. Sure enough, someone was knocking. "I'm very popular this week," he commented wryly, getting up. He answered the door, only to find the police standing there. "Hello, officers. Is there a problem?"

"Officers? Is it the police?" Emily asked, getting up herself.

"Evening, Dr. Brown," one said genially, tipping his cap. "We just wanted to ask you a few questions and take a look around the place."

"This doesn't have to do with the Lybian terrorists, does it?" Doc asked, opening the door wider so the officers could get in.

"No, this has to do with a missing person." The police officer nodded to Emily while his silent partners looked around. "Evening ma'am."

"Hello," Emily said nervously. "Emmett, what's this about?"

"I was just about to ask that," Doc told her, facing the policeman. "This is my sister, Emily. Now, what's this all about?"

"Have you seen Marty McFly recently?"

"Yesterday. He was helping me with an amplifier electricity rerouter. But I didn't see him at all today."

"He's been missing since early this afternoon. A Miss Jennifer Parker reported seeing you pick him up in your van. His parents asked us to make some preliminary inquiries before it officially became a missing persons case. Are you sure Marty hasn't been over here today?"

"Positive, my sister will support me on all of this," Doc nodded. "And you're welcome to search the house. Marty isn't here, nor did I contact him today. Jennifer must have seen a van like mine."

"It's possible, but why would Marty get into it if it wasn't you?"

Doc shrugged. "Sometimes that boy does rash things. Maybe it was someone he knew with a van like mine." He shrugged again and sighed. "I'm sorry I can't help more. If I learn of anything, I'll be sure to inform you."

The partners came back from their informal search, shaking their heads. "No sign of the boy, Joe," one said.

"Okay, Kyle. I doubted he'd be here." He nodded to Doc and Emily. "We'll keep you informed."

"So will-"

Doc's words were abruptly cut off by his sudden gasp for air. He fell to his knees, holding his stomach in pain. Immediately Emily was by his side. "Emmett! Emmett, are you all right?!"

Doc couldn't reply for a second. It felt distinctly to him he had been kicked, twice, in the stomach, as hard as possible. For a moment, he didn't feel like himself at all. It was like he was somewhere else, somewhere he had to get out of right away. Then the feeling vanished, and he relaxed, the pain fading slowly. "Yes. Stomach cramps, I guess."

"That didn't look like stomach cramps," Emily said, patting his back.

"To tell the truth, they didn't feel like them either. It felt like I was being kicked." He shook his head and slowly got to his feet. "Strange, very strange."

"Are you sure you're all right, Emmett?"

"Yes, I feel much better now." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The officers looked on, politely concerned. "I'm all right. Thank you for informing me of the situation."

"Of course, Dr. Brown." Joe tipped his hat and led the officers back to their cars. Doc closed the door and leaned against it. Emily stayed by his side, nervously fussing over him. "Emily, I'm sure it was just an adverse reaction to something I ate. You don't need to mother me."

"I'm just worried, Emmett. After all, you've always been just this side of delicate."

Doc opened his mouth to protest, but was suddenly hit by another spasm of pain. He didn't fall over this time, but he came close. Once again his mind snapped into that mindset of being in a very dangerous place. "I gotta get out of here, I gotta get out of here. . . ."

Then it was gone again, as quickly as it had come. Doc stared down at his stomach in confusion. "What in the name of Sir Issac H. Newton have they been serving me at that Burger King?"

Emily took him by the shoulders and steered him to his cot. "I don't know, but I want you to sleep it off. I won't have my brother sick."

Doc rolled his eyes. His older sister had always been like this, babying him. There was nothing he could do except go along with her. Besides, maybe she was right. Maybe a quick nap would make a world of difference. He allowed her to sit him on the cot. "All right, Emmy. Hopefully you're right and these spasms will pass naturally."

"I'm the older sister. I'm always right," she informed him. "Now get some rest. I know your propensity for all-nighters." She watched as he lay down and shut his eyes. After making sure he had really gone to sleep, she went to watch some TV, hoping the spasms had been mere flukes and not something more serious.

Wednesday, April 16th

6: 10 P. M.

Doc wasn't sure how he had ended up here, but he had. He looked around the room he currently found himself in. It was very dark, poorly lit by small windows. Instruments of what seemed to be torture were tucked away in corners, barely visible. The stench of chemicals like ammonia made his eyes water. On the side wall, he could just make out chains bolted in.

A scraping noise caught his attention. He turned to see a section of the room lit up by the glow of a single lightbulb. The light was centered on a dull metal table with wheels attached. Tough metal clamps held a subject in place for some sort of procedure. Doc gasped when he saw who it was. "Marty!"

It was indeed his young friend. He was thin and pale now, his exposed skin bruised and cut. His clothes were ragged and torn, and spotted with blood. Every time he made the slightest movement, he would wince. He weakly pulled at his hands and let out a cry of pain. Doc watched as he glanced at the presence beside him and pulled harder. Straining his eyes, Doc could see what looked like blood flow from under the restraints. Furious at what had happened to his friend, Doc marched over to help him - but smacked into an invisible wall before he could reach Marty. He tried to get through it, but it remained firm and solid. Frustrated, he yelled. "Marty! Marty, can you hear me?"

Marty gave no indication he had heard his friend. Doc tried again to break through the wall. He only succeeded in hurting his arm. He looked over at the other presence, beside his friend. He could see him or her sharpening what looked to be a knife.

Doc was getting badly confused. Who was this person, and what were they doing with Marty? "What the hell is going on? Who are you?" he called, desperate for a response.

The other presence seemed to look up and smile. Despite the fact his/her face was still hidden, Doc suddenly knew this person was evil. He backed away from the invisible wall, feeling cold. "I'm glad I'm not with-"

Doc threw himself back against the wall, eyes wide with horror. Marty was still in there! "Damn it, let me through!" he yelled furiously. "He's going to hurt my best friend! I can't just stand here and watch! I have to help him!"

The wall refused to budge. Doc stared, transfixed by terror, as the person finished the sharpening job. He/she moved in front of Marty, staying maddeningly in shadow the whole time. Doc's breath came in quicker bursts. "No. No, please, don't do it. Don't do it!"

Marty had already fainted. The presence raised the knife, then plunged it into Marty's throat. Doc screamed-

And felt himself being shaken. "Emmett! Emmett, wake up! Wake up!"

Doc tried to squirm out of the grip of the new stranger. "Let me go! Damn it, Marty!"

"Emmett, you're having a nightmare! Wake up! It's me, it's Emily!"

Doc's eyes snapped open. His sister was standing over him, shaking him. He was breathing hard, still chilled by the horror he had just seen. "Emmy?" he whispered, not quite out of the nightmare's grip.

"Yes, Emmett, it's me." She brushed his sweaty hair back from his face. "Are you all right? You were screaming, and I was so worried. . . ."

Doc attempted to relax, filling his lungs with air. "I had a horrible nightmare. . . . It was terrible. . . ."

"Well, you're safe and sound now, Emmett. It was only a nightmare."

Doc shook his head. "It felt so real. I had to watch as my best friend was murdered right in front of me. I couldn't do anything to help him. I could only watch." He shivered in fear and pain. "It was atrocious. Thank God it was only a nightmare."

Emily patted his head. "That officer got you all worried, huh?"

Doc sat up slowly. "Maybe. I don't know. Or maybe it was just another one of those spasms, and it disturbed my sleep cycle." He looked at Emily with a weak smile. "How long are you staying for now?"

"Until you get better," Emily said firmly. "I don't know what caused this, but I do know you'll need help if it keeps on happening like this. And if you have any more nightmares-"

"Don't worry, Emmy, I'm sure that was the only one," Doc reassured her. "I'm going to go work on that damned rerouter again. Don't worry about me. The nightmare's over now."

Little did he know that, for him, it was just beginning.