Noah's northward drive was focused. He didn't notice his phone buzzing on the dash until the fourth message left by Luke. He felt guilty as hell ignoring him, but to answer he'd have to stop driving; and that wasn't an option. A part of him feared he'd change his mind and turn around if he did.
But he had questions that needed answers.
That morning he spent thirty minutes watching Luke sleep; lightly feathering the man's blonde curls with his fingers. He vowed that nothing like what happened the night before would ever happen again. Even if it killed him, he was going to find a way to deal with the darkness inside of him; before he destroyed his life and took his family down with him.
Accepting his father was a killer hadn't been easy for Noah. But he'd always thought his revelation at being gay was the catalyst to send his father into mental instability.
Of course he'd always feared his father; always known his father was capable of violence. As a child and even as a young man, that violence was simply part of life. Noah grew adept in the game of avoidance; if he could prevent his father's anger, he could prevent a beating. So he always did right; obeyed the rules. By the time he hit his teens he considered his father's idea of discipline as normal.
Mostly it was because Noah wanted to believe his father loved him; that the violence was nothing but a father's desire to shape his son into a decent person.
Until Luke came along and opened Noah's eyes to truth.
But now, with this new memory of Kacy, Noah would have to face that his father's mental instability may always have been there, even before the colonel found out Noah was gay. Worse than that, Noah had to face that he may well be the son of a serial killer.
The mere thought sent shivers down his spine. Because if his father was this violent, this evil, what did that make Noah? What did his shared DNA make Noah capable of?
With these thoughts swirling through his mind, Noah almost missed his turn; quickly swerving right to take the off-ramp.
Fort Irwin was a three hour drive from Los Angeles. But with his early start, avoiding most traffic, and his constant non-stop speed, Noah made it in a little over two. The base sprawled before him as he approached; flat expanse of military life; airfield glinting in the distance.
Noah pulled onto the roadside two yards from the main gated entrance. He sat with the engine running.
He felt sick.
He hated these places; mass representation of pure loneliness.
His grip on the steering wheel was tight; his foot reluctant to leave the brake peddle and power the vehicle forward.
Was she here? Was it possible she never left at all?
He jolted out of his thoughts when Luke rang his cell again. Lifting it in a shaky hand he typed a quick text. "I'm okay. I need to find her. Don't worry. I love you."
He chucked the phone onto the passenger seat and pulled out into the road.
…
"Can you help me leave the house?" They were the first trembling words out of Luke's mouth once Terry finished filling them in on the contents of the police file.
"Luke," Terry sympathetically replied. "These things take time and-"
"I don't have time," Luke interrupted. "I have a couple of hours, tops… I have to go and look for him."
"I could go, Luke," Holden offered; characteristically trying to bare some of his son's load.
But Luke vigorously shook his head. "No. It has to be me."
"I understand how you feel, Luke," Terry calmly replied. "But my experience tells me there are no quick fixes to agoraphobia."
"Look," Luke insisted with frustration. "I get that, okay? I'm the one with the problem. So if anybody knows how hard it is, it's me. But I have to try. If Noah can fly halfway around the world to rescue me the least I can do is step outside!"
Both Holden and Terry were staring at him sceptically.
"Please?" Luke asked; pretty convinced his fear for Noah's wellbeing would overshadow his irrational fear of the outdoors. "Noah needs me. And I need to do this. It's my turn to step up."
Without much hope of success, Terry nodded her head; quickly calling her office to explain her absence for the day and reschedule her already busy diary. While she was on the phone, she took the time to organise an investigation into what she'd discovered in the Mayer file; hoping her efforts would pan out.
In the meantime, Holden had a tough time convincing Lily that Luke and Terry could manage without their input. The best they could do to help was to remove the children from the stress of the situation. She was reluctant, but eventually agreed.
Finally, Luke and Terry were alone in the house; Luke facing the flat plain of the front door, wondering how the hell he was going to get through it, when the thought of taking even one more step forward made his insides recoil.
"Okay, Luke," Terry's voice echoed through the dark tunnel Luke's mind had formulated. She might as well have been yelling at him from across a deep chasm. "Luke," she asked, "you with me?"
He tried to answer but all that past his lips was a shot of hot air. His throat felt too constricted; a gag reflex causing him to stumble. A loud shattering sound pierced the air as something hit the floor in his efforts to find purchase.
He fell onto his backside with shock; wincing in pain and kicking his legs until his back found the solid safety of the far wall. By now the thumping in his ears had reached a crescendo.
He could hear Terry calling his name over and over from some far distance; but he couldn't see anything; just a blur of colours.
She came into focus; kneeling by his side with her usually tight bun now loosened and hanging sideways from her head.
"Did I do that?" he worriedly asked. He stared at her for a moment before scanning the room.
"Hi," she warmly smiled. "Welcome back."
Luke frowned confused, "Where did I go?"
"You tell me…"
Luke considered for a moment. "Um… it was dark and… I couldn't breathe."
Terry nodded. "You passed out a little there I think."
Luke couldn't help it; as Terry's hand reassuringly rubbed his back he sobbed hopeless tears.
"Don't hate yourself," Terry whispered; reading his thoughts. "You can only push yourself so far or you'll end up making it worse…"
He shook his head, unable to formulate words. Instead he pulled his cell from his back pocket and dialled.
He knew Noah wouldn't answer.
"Please come home," he begged into the voicemail. "I'm frightened…"
…
Noah was surprised at how easily he was admitted into the residential side of the base. All the guard had to do was look up his name to confirm Noah's story of having once lived there. Assuming Noah was there to visit friends the guard simply smiled and waved Noah through the barrier.
"Have a good day," he said.
It was far more difficult finding the right house; especially as Noah couldn't recall the correct number or lane. For some reason, the first address to pop into his head was 165 Darlington Crescent. But this turned out to be his old school, usefully situated in the very centre of the simulated-suburban sprawl.
Frustrated, he parked his truck outside the school; resting his forehead on the steering wheel as he tried in vain to remember his old address.
Without any idea what to do, he decided to leave the truck; walking against the tide of arriving students to study the lay of the land; hoping something would jolt his memory. In the distance he could see a large metal water tower. He recalled having to pass by that as a boy on his route between school and home; but in reaching the tower he was once again directionless.
"Fuck!" he yelled at the trees; kicking a rock into a nearby bush and cursing the US Government for building army bases to look the same.
He stood in the morning sunlight; brain spinning to find a solution. His eyes fell once more on the school and an idea hit him. Quickly, he scurried back up the road; pushing through the students and heading for the main reception.
"Can I help you?" The receptionist looked liked she'd been planted there and taken root. She was in her late sixties at least; hair greying and adorned with floral pins.
"Yes, thank you, Ma'am…" Noah replied, doing his best to radiate his utmost charm. "My name is Noah Mayer. I was a student at this school a few years back."
"Yes?" she asked through her teeth; obviously already bored at the line of enquiry.
"I wanted to visit my old house today, but try as I might I can't remember the address."
She sighed in annoyance. "And I suppose you want me to go down to the archives, in the basement," she added for effect, "to find your file and tell you the address?"
It was dawning on Noah he may not have been the first alumnae to ask this particular question of the aging receptionist. With all the houses and lanes looking identical, it wasn't that surprising. He bit his lip in trepidation.
That gesture must have displayed such a sense of loss and hope; because the lady was watching him and her features seemed to soften. "Okay, fine!" Her large body made a slurping noise as she wiggled free of her chair. "I just need some form of identification."
"Thank you," Noah breathed, already pulling his drivers licence from his wallet. "Thank you so much!"
…
"You were right," Luke's voice was muffled in his folded elbows where he sat in defeat, curled up on the sofa. His body felt battered; his brain thumped with a continual headache brought on by multiple spells of intense panic. "This was never gonna work…"
"There is one more thing we can try," Terry suggested.
Luke peeped at her through his self-made cave. "What's that?"
"Hypnosis," she replied.
Luke sat up immediately; wincing as his temple throbbed in protest.
"It doesn't work for everybody," she warned, seeing the look of renewed hope on his face.
"Do it," Luke earnestly responded.
"I can't promise anything, Luke. And if this doesn't work then-"
"Do it," Luke repeated, impatiently cutting her off. "I'm willing to try anything!"
Terry nodded. "Okay, perhaps you should drink some water before we begin."
Luke stubbornly shook his head. "No time. Where do you want me?"
Terry frowned but nodded. She'd learnt over the months just how stubborn Luke could be.
"Lie back," she ordered; helping Luke get comfortable on the sofa.
"Okay, I want you to close your eyes. I'm going to count slowly backward and all I want you to do is concentrate on the sound of my voice. Do you understand?"
Luke nodded; shifting up slightly and resting his arms by his sides.
It didn't take long for Luke to surrender to the hypnosis. Terry was surprised. Luke was terribly strong willed, with an incredible mind. She had thought he'd be less susceptible than most. However, she reasoned, he was pretty exhausted and anxious; which could have been contributing to the hypnotic state.
"Okay Luke," she began, keeping her voice on an even keel. "I'm going to ask you to bring up the memory of your first day back home from Africa."
"We're at the farm," Luke replied; relief evident in his voice.
Terry paused in thought. She had meant 'home' as in Los Angeles, but she took the opportunity to pull useful information from Luke.
"Do you feel afraid at all?" she asked.
Luke shook his head. "No. It's safe on the farm. Noah's here." He smiled and Terry couldn't help but smile along with him. "But…"
"But what, Luke?" Terry prompted.
"I still see them in my sleep."
"Do you mean in nightmares?"
Luke nodded; face scrunching up as though he were experiencing a night terror right then and there.
"It's okay, Luke," Terry assured him. "You're safe. You're at the farm with Noah, remember?"
Luke nodded.
"Okay," she continued. "Now, when you're ready, I'm going to ask you to leave the farm."
"No," Luke's reply was quick. "Please? I want to stay here."
"It's just a memory, Luke, remember?" she prompted. "You're not actually at the farm anymore. You're here at home… in Los Angeles."
Terry jumped in shock as Luke's body whipped up to sitting.
"We're outside?"
"No, Luke."
Luke frantically looked around; beads of sweat forming on his brow. "You sure?"
"Yes," she calmly said. "We're inside, Luke. You're on the sofa."
He breathed deeply. "Oh… good… that's good…"
"Why don't you lie back down and relax?" she asked. She waited until she thought Luke was calm; prone once more on the sofa. "How do you feel now, Luke?"
"Better…"
"Okay," she replied. "Now Luke, I want you to access another memory. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember your first morning back in Los Angeles; after you came back from Africa?"
Luke smiled again; going slightly pink around the ears. "Yeah… Me and Noah-"
"Stop," Terry couldn't help an embarrassed little laugh escaping suspecting she didn't want to know more than that. "Luke, can you tell me what's happening as you try to leave for work. Just take me through it, step by step…"
"I'm dressed. Noah's made breakfast. But I'm late so I'm just grabbing some toast. I'm eating it as I approach the door."
Terry could see the anxiety rising in Luke's cheeks just at the thought. "You're safe on the sofa remember, Luke. This is just a memory."
"Okay," he shakily replied. "I open the door and…" He stopped speaking, frowning in confusion and shaking his head.
"What is it, Luke? What's stopping you?"
"It's… it's the wind…"
"The wind?" she clarified; quickly writing notes in her diary.
"It's blowing hot… it's too hot…" Luke's panic level was on the rise once more. "And… and dry… right in my face. It's… it's the same…"
"The same?"
"As that day… when they… when they… Oh my God! Noah! Noah!" Luke screamed; struggling and coughing.
Terry was quickly by his side, holding him down by his shoulders as she spoke, "Luke, I'm going to start counting from ten, when I reach the number one you will wake up. You will feel calm and refreshed and you will no longer fear the outdoors. As soon as you wake up you will feel the need to go outside. Ten… nine… eight…"
The closer she got to 'one', the calmer Luke became, until he was lying in a state of deep-breathing.
She knew he was awake but she waited for him to make the first move.
Eventually, his brown eyes flickered open. His gaze fell on the front door.
Terry held her breath.
"I want to go outside," he whispered.