Washington: Survivor

Chapter 18

Robin Washington had started to doze off in front of the TV set. Her living room recliner was comfortable. Since Sal’s death she’d spent many nights in that chair. Sometimes the bed was too painful.

She used to go out with friends in the afternoon. But the few she had by now had died. She was afraid she’d be the next to end up with cancer. Ever since her husband died it had become difficult for her to make new friends. Her life became very public when the media got a hold of the information about how Sal died. There was a public outcry to have her imprisoned or at least placed in a psychiatric facility.

Only the police, lawyers and doctors close to the case knew that it was a simple accident, and there was no way they could prosecute her in good conscious. But a part of Robin wanted a trial. She wanted to know if people really did believe she was a killer. The district attorney never filed charges and eventually the media hype died down, but all of it left Robin very socially awkward and insecure.

She had had the news on but one shooting after another in Miami had made watching it almost repugnant. But she didn’t want to miss her lottery numbers.

“…We now go to Edgar Lopez in central Miami for breaking news,” Robin heard on the television. “Breaking news” came one rung above a shooting. But she opened her eyes and stared at it nonetheless.

“Thanks Ana,” the man on TV said. “Residents of this neighborhood are rocked on their heels at this hour. Earlier this evening, the nearby Central Miami High School went up in flames after multiple bombs exploded, nearly leveling the entire building…”

Robin took notice and sat up in her chair slowly. Her heart sank and she felt herself unable to move. She could only watch helplessly. “My God…”

“…Officials are telling us that there were less than a hundred people inside, students in night classes, and that no survivors have been found. With no warning and the building in this condition, they would be surprised if anyone made it out alive. Beyond that, needless to say, students won’t be in class tomorrow morning. We’re still getting more information and we’ll bring it to you as we get it. Ana, back to you.”

Robin forced herself to put on a coat. As warm as Miami usually was, the winter time kept it especially cool. She made it out the door and to her car. She drove the high school as quickly as she could. She could not fathom Tina being dead. Robin took her in mere months ago but felt like Tina was her own daughter.

It was Tina’s first night of classes. Robin had pushed her into it so she would eventually be able to get a decent job — maybe even go to college first if she got good grades. Tina resisted at first only because of the extra effort, but ultimately knew it was the right thing to do.

Robin got to the school. Firefighters were still trying to put out the fire that consumed the remains of the school building. Police lights flashed from every direction like strobe lights, practically blinding the old woman.

Robin stumbled out of her car and toward the crowds of officials. It was very noisy and there were people from the nearby neighborhoods all around. She saw the news crew and the man she recognized from TV.

She was caught off guard when she heard a firefighter shouting from the wreckage. She could not make out what he was shouting. But he kept repeating it.

“Some fire!” she thought. No.

“Sure rider!” No.

She followed the voice.

“Survivor!” he shouted. “We found a survivor!”

Robin was filled with hope. She ran toward the firefighter as he lifted Tina out of the rubble.

Brock: Come Together

Chapter 17

Adrian Brock laid in bed staring at the wall. His wife Laura was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. She had dark hair and blue eyes. She was beautiful. Her parents tried to push her into modeling in high school, but she had more interest in books. She graduated from Stanford with a law degree and was now a partner in a small practice in Seattle.

“It’s not that I think either of us should quit our jobs,” she said. “All I’m saying is starting a family is a big deal. And we’re both in our thirties. Time’s wasting.”

“That’s helpful,” Adrian chuckled.

“We both love what we do. I mean, I’m not wrong here, am I? You’ve never said anything.”

“No, hey, it was just something I thought I’d mention. Looking at our friends and all…”

“No, it’s good. We should talk about it. But it sounds like you’re into some serious stuff at the agency since — you can’t talk about it. And I’m right in the middle of a case that could make or break my career.”

”Yeah, it was just something I wanted to bring up.”

“Yeah.”

Adrian paused and looked at her as she walked into the bedroom.

“You know I’d tell you if I could,” he said. “The case I’m working on.”

“I know,” she gave him an understanding gaze.

Adrian walked into the conference room at the DSR. At the other end of the room sat Grace Weathers and Porter Levitt. Adrian wanted to interview them together since they had never before met.

“Do either of you know why you’re here?”

Levitt scoffed and looked away.

“I asked for answers, Mr. Brock,” Weathers said, annoyed. “And you said you’d give them to me. I don’t even know why I’m here. And before I tell you anything else, I want— I need you tell me something.”

Adrian spoke softly. “I sincerely apologize, Ms. Weathers. And Mr. Levitt. I want to explain everything to both of you as soon as possible. But I have to wait until everyone is together.”

A man in a uniform escorted Jonah LaRoe into the room.

“Seven of you have been chosen,” Adrian made a slight emphasis on the word. He looked at Weathers, Levitt and LaRoe trying to come up with the right things to say. These were people who were important to the future of the world in ways they could not possibly understand at this point.

“We have three of you together now,” Adrian continued. “I’m sure you’ll find your stay here more than luxurious. Cable television, gourmet meals, fitness center. We hope to have the other four here within the week. At that point I’ll be able to explain everything, hopefully to your satisfaction.”

DSR Seattle had been recently completed. There were now living quarters that were created to house The Seven while the research was done. It was more than comfortable. For them, the only thing it was missing was family and friends. However, as they were about to find out, there were not whole lot of people interested in being friends with any of them.

LaRoe: Verdict

Chapter 16

Jonah LaRoe stood at the request of the judge. The jury sat on the opposite side of the room. He watched them. Hoping to see the verdict in their eyes before it was read.

Months with the lawyers. Months in a prison cell. Months wasted. But his entire life hinged on this one single moment. This very point in time would determine once and for all what kind of man he would be remembered as.

His knees felt weak, like they would buckle beneath him. He could not be sure they wouldn’t if the jury foreman read “guilty.” His lawyer stood beside him, confidently. But these lawyers, they always looked confident. That was their job. Were they to waver, a bad signal could be sent to the jury.

The judge was reading the verdict at his bench. Emotionless, he returned the paper to the bailiff, who walked it to the jury foreman. Time seemed to be at a standstill as Jonah waited to hear the judgment of his peers.

“Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?”

“We have, your honor.”

“How do you find?”

Jonah was anxious.

“In the matter of The People vs. Jonah Malcolm LaRoe, on the charge of the murder of Derek Messer, we find the defendant… guilty.”

“Bailiff, please take the defendant into cus—”

Upon hearing these words, Jonah collapsed and passed out. The judge called for a paramedic to take a look at him, but when the doors to the courtroom opened, three men stepped inside. They were masked and dressed completely in black. The judge seized his gavel then, when suddenly, three flashbang grenades were tossed and detonated.

The sound was deafening and the bright flashes blinding. Smoke filled the room. No one could see a thing. The once-quiet courtroom was now filled with screams and panic.

One intruder restrained the bailiff with his own handcuffs. The two others grabbed Jonah, still unconscious, and dragged him out of the courtroom the back way. They carried him outside and into a dark van with no license plates. And sped off.

Jonah was laying on the floor of the van when he came to. When he looked around, he realized he did not know where he was. But when he tried to move, he could not. Each man still wore a mask and spoke through an apparatus that altered the sound of his voice.

“Where am I?” Jonah asked, not sure if he was actually speaking. He felt he had been drugged. He couldn’t see nor think clearly.

“Please lie still, Mr. LaRoe,” a deep voice commanded.

“Where the hell am I?!” he shouted, still unsure if he was audible.

He felt a needle go into his neck and an injection. He struggled to keep his eyes open. It was futile.

Hours later, Jonah awoke in what appeared to be a hospital room through his blurred vision. He heard the familiar beeps of a heart monitor. He felt safer. More comfortable.

The door opened and a man walked in.

“I’m glad you’re awake, Mr. LaRoe. I’m Agent Brock.”

Cole: Classroom

Chapter 15

Tina Cole walked nervously into the classroom. She had not been in one since she was 12. That year her parents died and she had been bounced around seven separate foster homes. It was no way for a child to live. So she ran. But for a young girl, finding a place to make home was not easy.

She lived on the streets. She begged, and often people gave her whatever she asked for, not out of pity or a sense of charity, but out of some indescribable urge. It was like they couldn’t stop helping her. But as years passed, that sort of attraction she had began to fade.

She was cusping on her twenties and life was only getting more difficult. Until she met Robin, that is. Robin Washington had saved her life. In her bold attempt at stealing food from a grocery story, she was caught and arrested. But for some reason, this woman helped her. Robin took her in and gave her a home she could actually stand to live in. One where the head of the household actually liked having her around.

The classroom was small and gray with a cold atmosphere. Tina found a seat at the back and looked at the few other people in the room. They were all older people in their 40s, 50s, and even some 60s. People who, when they were young like Tina, never had the chance to go to school. And they were making up for it now so they could get decent jobs and make a living. Tina had the same goals in mind. But she was too old for high school.

Tina sat quietly with everyone else waiting on the teacher. The door opened and a very large man waddled in carrying two books. He approached the desk and relieved his burden with a heave onto the desk. The books crashed, startling everyone.

“Good, I have your attention,” the man said, clearly disgusted. “I’m David Park. During the day, I have 20 teenage geeks who absolutely love calculus, if you want to believe that. At night, I’m stuck with you people and I hate it as much as you do.

“You’re to be here by eight every weeknight. I take role. You got me on Mondays and Wednesdays for basic math. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you got some poor soul beating basic grammar into you and on Fridays will be history and other social studies. Do your work and don’t irritate me. We’ll get along fine.”

His lecture concluded, Park took his seat behind the front desk and began talking about simple mathematical operations. The class scrambled to find their papers and began taking notes.

Tina was amused by Park’s ill-mannered nature. She always watched people and was intrigued by behavior. She wondered how he treated his high school students. He probably enjoyed them. But he clearly resented teaching night school. There were no uncertain terms.

Tina settled in and wrote almost down everything Park said. She was finally feeling— BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The building exploded. Three charges detonated simultaneously, leveling the entire high school in seconds.

Levitt: Caught

Chapter 14

Porter Levitt read the morning paper, sitting in a booth in a Cheyenne diner. It was months after he had been tracked down in Seattle. His hair had been dyed a lighter color and the track marks down his forearm had almost faded. Like scars of past obsessions.

“Anything else I can get for you this morning?” the waitress asked, walking up to his table.

“Thanks, no,” Porter said with a smile. “I’ll take the check.”

The waitress walked off and another woman came and sat down at his table.

Porter nonchalantly looked up to see who his guest was. His eyes widened in utter shock—

“If I could find you, Porter, what makes you think they won’t?” she said sternly.

It was Sandra, Porter’s wife. She left him during the lean times after he left rehab but found his habit again. She couldn’t deal with the constant torment of loving and being married to someone who couldn’t be helped. She had been crazy enough to think that her leaving would be enough to get him to quit. And it was. Little did she know.

But Porter couldn’t go back to her. He felt he’d failed her. He decided he couldn’t go back until he’d fixed his life. On the other hand, he refused to go to prison. He couldn’t deal with being prosecuted. So he left to find some peace. He found it in the Rocky Mountains.

But he wasn’t just seeking peace. He was running. Last time he was in Washington, he was being hunted, he figured, for drug possession. He ran to as remote a place as he could find. He was only spending three or four days in a given down. But when he found Cheyenne, he stayed longer. It had been nearly 10 days. Now Sandra had found him.

“Have you been following me all this time?”

“Since the Black Hills,” Sandra said with a look. “I know why you’re running. But you’re crazy if you think they’ll never catch up with you. I managed it.”

“Sandra, why are you saying this to me?” Porter asked. She stared at him a moment.

“Because, more than anything else… I still care about you for some reason.” She put her head down to wipe her tearing eyes. “Don’t do this.”

Porter almost felt bad for her until he glanced over her shoulder and saw two men dressed in suits walk into the diner. They scanned the somewhat empty room. Porter knew the couldn’t create a scene so he made his getaway as quiet as possible.

He found himself next to a dumpster outside the back door and pulled a gun from his jacket. It was a revolver and he loaded the five bullets he had left into it. He held it in front of him as he walked to the front of the building looking for an escape.

He saw a large, black sport utility vehicle that the suit-wearing men must have been driving. He opened the unlocked driver’s side door and found the keys still in the ignition. He hopped into the seat, closed the door, and tossed his gun onto the passenger seat.

Suddenly, a man who had been sitting low in the back seat raised a gun to Porter’s head.

“Porter Levitt,” he said, “you’re under arrest.”