The Following:
Peace, Love, and Happiness
Episode 6 – Loyalty
Isiah stepped out of the bus and looked at Penn Station. He cleared his throat and stepped inside. He scanned the small stores that surrounded him. He took note of a Starbucks and decided to buy a coffee. He waited in line for a few minutes, before he ordered a hazelnut coffee. Once he received the coffee, he stepped away watching the crowd before him make their way to and from trains and busses.
He sipped his coffee and then pulled out his phone checking the time. It was five minutes until three. Almost time. He continued to sip his coffee counting down the minutes anxiously. When the clock struck three, he tossed the nearly empty coffee in the waist bin and then cleared his throat.
"Peoples," He said in a loud voice. "I have important news for you." He paused for few seconds watching the crowd continuing to hustle around in front of him. Only a few people slowed down to glance at him, but no one stopped to listen.
Isiah cleared his voice again. "Is there anyone here religious?" He continued to rant. "Do you let religion control every move you make, almost like strings on a puppet? Allow them to pull and tug you in whatever direction that pleases whatever God you follow? They say religion makes you feel free, but I disagree with that and I will prove it to you."
"Go home you bum," He heard someone call out to him.
He looked for whoever just spoke to him, but he couldn't find the person. All he saw was the crowd continuing to briskly walk around deep in their own thoughts. He shrugged his shoulders and then decided to continue. He had something to say and would not stop until he said what he came here to say.
"In Hebrews 11:1 it is that 'Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.' Come one people," He licked his lips. "We are physical beings here. Beings with many different types of emotions. Beings that often need to touch something to know that it is there, well how could we have faith in something that tells us to have faith in the invisible? It doesn't make sense."
He licked his lips again.
"And in 1 Timothy 4:10 it is said that, 'For therefore we both labor and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, specially of those that believe.' Oh please peoples." He paused and raised his voice louder. He took notice of two teens recording him. They had smiles on their faces as if mocking him. He ignored them and continued. "We should put faith in a God that puts his creation. His children. He own self, in such agonizing pain and sorrow. It is time to make a stand. Make a stand against religion."
More people had stopped and were recording him, taking pictures, or just listening to what he was saying. It made him feel accomplished. He wanted people to hear his words and it didn't matter how they did it. As long as his message came across.
"And in 1 Peters 1:7 it is said, 'That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perishes, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ." He cleared his throat again. "They tell us that we will feel rich through faith of religion. I dare say that is absurd. Not when it comes to a world run by the greed of the man. Where the more money you have, the more power you have. It sickens me and it has got to stop. It is time to put the break on religion. May religion be damned."
Isiah stopped when he saw two police officers approach him. "Okay sir," The leading officer said reaching out to him. "I think you have said enough, it is time to move on."
Without a blink of an eye, Isiah pulled out a handgun and shot both of the cops. Screams erupted from scared people as they ran away from him like frightened fish. People were tripping over each other and pushing as they tried to escape. He smiled even two brave men tried to wrestle the gun away from him. He allowed them to. It was not important to him anymore.
He reached into his sleeve and pulled a small remote that was attached to a wire. That wire led to a large amount of dynamite strapped around a waist. "It is time to take a stand," He shouted as he pressed the trigger button.
Mark was staring out his bedroom window into the darkened backyard with harsh and faraway look. It was raining heavily, which was mixed with an occasional thunder and lightning. He watched the rain wet the grass. Trees swayed in the distance from the heavy winds. The weather was awful, yet strangely hypnotic.
His thoughts were of his mother and Luke. He missed them more than anything in the world and would do anything to get them back. The two most important people in his life were gone and he felt more than empty. When they were alive, he felt like a completed puzzle, but ever since their death, a few pieces from that puzzle was gone.
Now he was with people who claimed to be his other family. They were nice, accepting, and curiously mysterious. Just like Luke had mentioned in the mirror, he didn't trust them one bit. He only trusted his mom and brother with his life. He knew that if they were both alive, that he would do whatever it took to keep each other safe. Even kill in the process. Now that they were both dead, he would have to settle for revenge.
But how would he do that? The people here claimed to be his family and wanted the best for him, but he didn't think they would allow him to leave. Not after they risked their lives to bring him here. He was thankful that they saved him from the hands of the FBI. The last thing he wanted was to be arrested.
He just didn't want to sit around him much longer. He was getting beyond anxious. If he spoke to Amable, would he allow him to leave? Probably not. If by some miracle he said yes, he would send someone to help him, or in his own eyes, keep his eyes on him. Even though he was family, he was still s stranger to these people just like these people were strangers to him.
Out of all the family here, he had only spoken to a few people. Amable, or his father, seemed like a loving person, who wanted the best for everyone here. Yet there was something about him he didn't like. He seemed to be too relaxed. Too carefree. Cruz, reminded him of someone who pretended he was tough until the big situation came. Then he would fold under the pressure. Annabelle was cute, flirty, and had pretty eyes. She had soft skin and an infectious giggle. He had spoken to her on the way to dinner the other night and even with his doubts, he found himself kind of liking her. She reminded him of Emma.
His thoughts drifted toward Emma. He liked her a lot and was still sad about her death. Even if they had hardly spent any time together. She was strong, brave, smart, and extremely beautiful. Yet she was killed, before he had the time to tell her how he felt about her.
He wanted to kill Claire for killing her. Kill Max for killing Luke. Kill Mike for killing his mother. Finally, kill Ryan because he seemed to be at the center of everything. In order to make him feel as hurt and lost as he was feeling now, he would kill those he cared about most. He wanted Ryan to come to him. Just like last time. If he could get Joe to join, that would be the perfect bittersweet ending. But that was unlikely, since he was in prison and he didn't have the resources to break Joe out. He would have to settle for Ryan alone.
Mark heard a knock on the door. He turned away from the window and opened his door. He saw Annabelle standing outside with a small smile on her face. "Hey," He said wondering why she was here at this hour. He noticed her arm in a sling. "What happened?"
"Guess it is pretty noticeable," She said glancing at her arm. "Small car accident," She shrugged with her good shoulder. "Thankfully the car and I came out alive."
"Well I am glad you are okay," Mark simply said. He eyed her eyed with adolescent curiosity.
"So are you going to allow me in?" She asked with a slight tease.
Mark stepped away from his door allowing her to step inside. "What can I do for you?" He asked watching her look around his room.
"I couldn't sleep," She said with another shrug. "The storm was keeping me up." She looked at him. "How about you, why are you up this late?"
"I couldn't sleep either," He said with a frown.
Mark glanced out the window again, watching the rain again. It was peaceful. The rain always was. He hated to walk through it, but he enjoyed watching from inside. He also enjoyed the snow. Watching snow fall from inside was always relaxing. He didn't really mind walking through the snow. Rainfall you got wet in, while snowfall seemed to just pile on you.
"Welcome to the club," She said with a small smile. She patted the spot beside her on the bed. "Come and join me."
Mark gave her an uncertain look. He didn't trust her and didn't feel comfortable sitting next to her. He stood there wondering whether he should sit beside her or not. She seemed nice and inviting, but he couldn't ignore his brother's words.
"I don't bite," She said with a playful wink.
Mark found her smile a little comforting. He ignored his eternal protest and sat next to her. She scooted closer to him and then said, "Not unless you want me to," She said with a laugh, "I can bite, nibble, or chew."
"Thanks," He said hesitantly, "But I'll pass." For a few seconds there was awkward silence. "So what can I do for you?" He asked after the moment pause.
"Since I couldn't sleep, I wanted to see how you were doing," She said looking at him. "You were awfully quiet during dinner."
"Guess I was hungrier than I thought," He said with a small shrug.
"What do you think of us?" She asked hoping that he felt comfortable here.
Mark shrugged his shoulders and didn't respond right away. He noticed her staring at him and it made him feel uneasy. He scooted over again hoping that she didn't move closer to him. She didn't budge, much to his relief.
"I don't know," He shrugged his shoulders again. "I haven't been here for too long."
Annabelle found herself chuckling. He was so quiet and awkward now yet cute at the same time. Outside of the news reports and what her father spoke about him, she hardly knew him. Yet she wanted to kiss him now. He was beyond cute and had such beautiful eyes. They held such life to them as well as deep pain. They held so much emotion.
"I think you will enjoy living here," She said with a smile. She reached out and touched his hand. "We are a close and loving family."
"Yeah I can see that," He said eyeing her hand on his. It sent shivers up and down his spine. He stood up and stepped away from the bed. "So what do you do exactly?"
"What do you mean?" She asked watching him.
"I mean what do you do?" He asked crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you in school or something?"
"Oh yeah. I am in school," She said holding back what she really does. "I am majoring in art." She looked at her injured arm. "Guess I won't be doing any art for quite some time now."
Mark thought of his mother and her artwork. Whenever she wasn't working or at the art museum, she would paint. He and his brother always loved watching her in her studio. Most of the time she allowed only them, but on the condition that they were quiet. Even with his other family members around, he felt that their mother loved the both of them the most.
"My mom loved art," Mark simply said. He looked outside again, watching the rain. It had slowed down a bit.
"Yeah I know," She said with a smile.
"What do you know about my mom?" He asked turning back to her. He looked at her suspiciously.
"Not too much," She said with a small shrug. "Dad speaks about her from time to time and of course whatever was on the news."
"I see," He said taking a step away from her. "I guess you must think of us as crazy."
"We are all crazy," She said standing up. "That is what makes us such a unique family." She smiled at him.
An image of her cutting the agent in the basement came to her mind. As she cut him, she felt powerful, in charge, and very dangerous. She wanted to feel that way again. To feel that tingle again. To feel the blood pumping through her again.
"I guess so," He said watching her unsure what she was doing.
She took another step toward him. "Yet with all our craziness here, we look out for each other," She said proudly.
"Is that why I am here?" He asked.
"Of course silly," She said shaking her head. She chuckled softly. He was so cute, even when playing dumb. "You are part of this family."
"I see," He said not fully buying it. Something was strange here. Everyone here seemed to inviting. Too nice.
"I know the thought of us may be a little overwhelming at times," She said taking another step toward him. She was now a foot away. "But soon you will fit right in and will be calling us family."
"Hopefully," He simply said not meaning in.
Annabelle leaned close to kiss him. She saw him tense up. She stopped and stepped away from him. He seemed to be trembling slightly and looking more nervous than usual. She wondered what was wrong with him. She knew he found her attractive. She caught him glancing at her a few times since he came here.
"You know what," She said running a hand through her hair. She gave him an awkward smile. "It is late and I think storm has died down." She turned to leave. "Have a good night and see you at breakfast." Before she left, she gave him a big smile.
Annabelle closed the door behind her and her smile faded. She grew serious and then made her way to her father's study. She saw the door was open. Amable was sitting by the fire place reading Misery, by Stephen King. He looked up from the book and smiled at her.
"How is our new family member doing?" He asked closing his book.
"There is something up with him, that I can't quite put my finger on," She said stepping up to him. She watched him stand up and grab a drink from the bar.
"That was too be expected," Amable said pouring himself a drink. "He just lost his brother. He is going through some tough times."
"And I will be there to help him out," She said watching him take a sip.
"Good, I knew I can count on you," He said pleased with her. He turned toward her. "I know that you will get him to trust us."
"Hopefully," She said with a small shrug.
"To our family," Amable said raising his glass. "May nothing ever break us apart." He downed the shot and then set it by the bar. "Get some sleep my dear, we will talk some in the morning."
Annabelle stepped up to him and gave him a hug. "Goodnight papa," She said kissing him on the cheek. She turned and left his study.
Not even a minute after she left, Cruz and Michael stepped in. "We are ready," Cruz said with an anxious smile.
"Good," Amable said pouring three shots. He handed one to Cruz, one to Michael, and took the last for himself. He raised the glass. "To the success of getting the bitch of an agent." He downed the shot and then gave his two sons a warm and loving smile. "The first time didn't work out, but I know that the both of you won't disappoint me."
Ryan stepped out of his car and viewed the horrific scene before him grimly. A large crowd surrounded the yellow caution tape. Most had their phones out and were recording the scene before them. Others were taking pictures, while a few stood by just watching.
Ryan squeezed through the crowd and then crossed the caution tape. He sighed loudly as he stepped into the broken Penn Station. The front entrance had completely crumbled and most of the stores in the lobby were destroyed. Lots of blood was splattered on the floor, walls, and ceiling. A dozen mangled bodies were scattered around randomly.
Jeffery saw Ryan and approached him. "Crazy isn't it?" He smugly asked as he eyed the body closest to him.
The body belonged to a young female around fifteen years old. She was covered in her own blood. Her left leg was blown off and was a few feet away in a puddle of blood. Her face was cut up and burned. Part of her head had melted on to the floor.
"That's one way to put it," Ryan said eyeing the girl's leg. He cleared his throat loudly. "
"So what have you got?"
"Not much at all actually," Jeffery shook his head. "This place is such a mess, it is going to take some time just to clean it up."
Ryan saw groups of forensic teams cleaning up the area while others were taking pictures and notes. Everyone had serious and melancholy looks on their faces. The extent of the damage to the station made it more than personal. When dealing with their work, it didn't matter whether it was one body or many. Death was death and it was never a good if a forensic team was needed to be there.
"What about video surveillance?" Ryan asked looking back at Jeffery.
"I actually have Max working on that now," He said motioning for him to follow. "She is in the manager's office now."
"Good," He mumbled following him to the office. He took one last glance at the morbid scene, before entering the office.
Ryan saw his niece sitting in front of a computer that was hooked up to ten different screens displaying multiple shot of the lobby. She glanced at him and smiled grimly as he approached. She returned to the screens and then sighed as she ran a hand through her hair.
"Max," Ryan asked as he approached her spot. "What have you got for us?"
"Video surveillance picked up everything," She said rewinding it to the point moments before the explosion. "You see this man entering the lobby?" She asked pointing toward him. Screen 1 showed the closest image of the man. "This is him."
Ryan saw a man enter the lobby. He saw him scan it, before buying a coffee. He sipped the coffee for a few moments, watching the crowd, almost as if studying them. After a few moments, he began to recite verses from the Bible, before blowing himself up. Half the TV screens went blank and others grew half static with poor picture quality. Just one screen remained clear.
The screen displayed massive destruction and gore from a horror movie. Smoke and fire filled the entire lobby. Blood and guts was splattered on the floor, ceiling, walls. Random body parts were flung around aimlessly. A handful of bodies were on the floor covered in blood and a few were still smoldering.
Max looked away from the screen in disgust. She couldn't watch another moment of it. She eyed Ryan who had a stern and horrified look on his face. Jeffery stood a few feet away with a furious look fixed on his face.
"Damn," Jeffery cursed when the video ended.
"That is one way to put it," Ryan said grimly. He sighed and ran a hand through his slightly graying hair.
"That is all I can get here," Max said with a small shrug.
"Get a copy of all the video surveillance and we'll have it brought to headquarters," Jeffery ordered. "We will be able to study it at more in detail over there." With that he turned and left the room.
Ryan watched him leave before turning back to his niece. "Are you okay?" She asked when she noticed him watching her.
"I'm alright," He said with a small shrug, "Could be better, could be worse," He took a step toward her. "How about you?"
Max turned back to the computer. She ejected the CD and then placed it in a hard case for protection. "I'm okay," She said with a sigh. "Definitely have had better days."
"I agree," Ryan said watching her as they left the office.
Amable entered the last room in the basement and then approached the bed that now had Agent Bob Lackett on it. Bob grunted trying to break through the restraints as Amable approached. He eyed him and then stopped, knowing that there was nothing he could do. The restraints were too strong.
"Oh please don't stop on my account," Amable said with a playful smile, "I enjoy watching you try and fail."
"What do you want?" He asked.
"So the fun and games are over?" Amable shrugged his shoulders. "I guess it is time for the big show." He took a step toward him. "You are here for one reason and one only. I need everything you know about Claire Mathews."
"What do you want with her?" Bob asked with a nervous laugh.
Amable punched Bob in the face. Bob groaned feeling his head knock back from the force of the punch. He felt his face grow numb and tingly.
"Just tell me everything you know about her," Amable insisted.
"Well she was married to Joe Carroll before he went to prison. She is known to have had an affair with ex-FBI Ryan Hardy," Bob began.
Amable groaned and punched him again. "Do you think this is a joke?" He asked massaging his sore wrist.
"Do you really expect me to tell you anything?" Bob asked looking at Amable as if he were delusional.
"I actually don't," He said with a twisted smile. "Not in the beginning at least," He approached the table with an assortment of tools meant for torture. He grabbed a hammer and then turned to Bob, who was watching him with horrified curiosity. "Tell me something, do you an Agent Giles?" He asked in a tantalized way.
"Yeah I do," He answered confused, "But why do you ask?"
"I saw a news press stating that he was missing," Amable continued as he played with the hammer in his hands. "I was wondering how well you knew him."
"I knew him pretty well actually," He was still confused. "But what does that have to do with me?"
"Well if you don't tell me what I want to know about Claire," Amable took a threatening step toward him. I will make you bleed," He paused and leaned over the bed with a certain ravenousness twinkling in his eyes. "In the same bed that Giles bled to death in."
Mark took a drink of orange juice as he watched Carrie report on the bombing at Penn Station. He saw shaky video footage from outside of the half destroyed station. So far there were fifteen deaths, forty injuries and a handful of those life threatening. The number of deaths would definitely go up as time passed.
He was so engrossed in what he was watching, he didn't notice Annabelle approach him from behind. "Hey there," She said causing him to jump slightly.
"Hey," He said glancing at her briefly before returning to the TV. He took a sip of his orange juice.
"Pretty crazy huh?" She asked looking at the screen with a fixed fascination.
"Indeed," He simply said.
"It is so crazy how in one second everyone's life over there changed," She said changing her expression to that of horror when she saw him looking at her. "One second they are busy making their way to wherever they were going and then next, boom, everything changes drastically."
"Crazy does explain it well," He said with a small shrug.
Annabelle studied him wondering what he was thinking about. He was the type that on the surface, he could give the look that he was normal and at ease, yet his mind full of thoughts that were far from normal. He seemed to be able to control his emotions pretty well.
"What do you think of death?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Death?" He asked confused. He turned toward her, yet gave him enough space, that she wouldn't get too close.
"Yes death," She said pointing to the TV screen that was showing helicopter footage of a smoky Penn Station. "What is your view on it?"
"I don't know," He shrugged not really wanting to divulge in it. It made him think of his mother and brother, as well as the other members of his family he had lost recently. "I don't really think about it."
"Really?' She asked not buying his answer one bit. He was lying to her and even though it bothered her, she chose to shrug it off. "Well I find death quite interesting."
"You do?" Mark asked giving her a confused and unsure look.
Annabelle thought of her killing Agent Giles and how much she enjoyed doing it. She liked the feeling of the power and the control as she drained his life. She liked watching as he bled out, his last few breaths, his eyes closing, and then his body growing limp. She liked every moment of it.
Mark took a step back watching as a smile appeared on her face. She blinked coming back to reality. She noticed him watching her confused. "I read about it," She said with fake innocence, "And surf the web every so often, but nothing really more. Death is a mystery to me I guess."
Mark swallowed with uncertainty not sure what to say to it. Instead he held his tongue and drank the rest of the orange juice.
Hope you enjoyed! I have got more coming soon!
Shaw 18