TIES THAT BIND: Note In a Bottle
AUTHOR: Aesop
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, and I earn no profit by writing this.
SUMMARY: Six people left Roswell, but they still have ties to that town. Ties they are unwilling to sever. Sorry about the format, stupid FFdotNET.
From: PhilE_at_YAHOOdotCOM
To: Zanwashere_at_YAHOOdotCOM
Date: Wed, 15 Oct 2002 15:06:31 -0500
Subject: Problem
I'm aware of the risk in this son, but we've got a serious problem here, one I think you can shed some light on. Below is a message from Brody Davis, your old boss at the UFO center. He doesn't know it's you I'm writing, only that the person getting his message might be able to help him. I really hope you can, Max.
Whoever you are, I hope you can help me. My name is Brody Davis, and I live in Roswell New Mexico. Philip Evans says that you can help me, and I really do need help. My daughter has been taken from me.
I'm not even sure where to begin, but perhaps the best place would be at the hospital.
Three years ago, my daughter was diagnosed with cancer, and the doctors didn't hold out much hope for her survival. Shortly before Christmas of last year, Sidney, my daughter, took a turn for the worse and I rushed her to the hospital in Santa Fe. She was placed in a ward with other children in the same condition, and I was told the doctors would do all they could. I could tell, though, that they didn't expect her to live long despite their best efforts. I waited in the hospital as long as they would let me, but they wouldn't let me be with her.
Some time during the night, something happened which I took for a miracle at the time. My daughter was cured. Every child in the ward was cured. The doctors held on to them as long as they could, running tests, but I and the other parents protested so much that they released them quickly. They had no explanation for what happened, no clue, except for the silver handprint on each of the children. It faded quickly, and we didn't worry about it, too glad to simply have our children back, alive and healthy.
I have occasionally heard from the others, and their children continue to do well. Sidney herself showed no signs of the cancer that had been killing her.
Evans told me to be honest here, completely honest, and to trust you, but it is hard when I don't even know who I'm writing. I will try, though.
Two weeks ago things changed. Sidney came to me very excited. She asked me if I wanted to see a magic trick.
I was expecting her to pull a coin out of my ear or something like that. Instead, she touched my shirt, and it suddenly changed to bright pink, right before my eyes! I know how unbelievable this must sound, but it happened. Somehow she changed the color of my shirt. She didn't know how she did it, just that all she had to do was really want it to happen.
That was the first incident, but not the last. She began to do other things as well, including accidentally starting several small fires. Sometimes she simply crackles with some kind of green electricity. It scared me more than it did her. For her, it was just one great big adventure.
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't take her to a doctor; I couldn't even talk to the other parents whose children had been in that ward. Maybe they would have similar stories. I don't know what I should have done, but I did nothing, and that was a mistake. I couldn't be with her all the time, and someone, somehow, found out.
The next thing I know my daughter and several other children in Roswell are being called in for inoculations and testing for hemorrhagic fever, a disease I know she couldn't have caught. Health Department directive, they said. I watched carefully, and just hoped to get Sidney away before anything happened. They wouldn't let me watch them work, though. I should have been suspicious then, but they made a show of being in a great hurry, as if an outbreak were a very real danger.
The other children being tested were given a clean bill of health and released, but they told me that they needed to keep Sidney for observation, that they found something in her blood work.
I never saw her again, and the Health Department knows nothing about any such testing. I've tried contacting the parents of the other children in that ward, but I haven't been able to reach them. They may be in danger, too.
Please. Whoever you are, please help me get my daughter back.
I have contacted the parents of the other children on that ward, Max. There were twelve. Eight of them are now missing; five vanished under similar circumstances, the last three were simply snatched. The police have no leads, although thanks to Brody they've made the connection. The remaining four are under protective custody, but I can't honestly warn them against the FBI stepping in on this case.
I don't know what to do Max. I'm hoping you do. Whatever it is though, please, be careful.
Love,
Dad
