Crying: A Dystopian Novel

Crying: Chapter 6

    Day 4. I'm about to explode. He's been gone 4 days; I refuse to leave my room. "Anna!" Eleise runs in. I roll over from facing the wall.

   "What? You know I'm not leaving."

   "They sent a video. Dad wants you to see it."

   I jump up and run to the radio room. Dad has it set up on a projector.

   "You sure you want to?"

   "Yes." I hit the play button.

   It starts out dark, nothing's on the screen. Then they pull off the camera cover. He's drenched in his own blood, his forehead busted open. "My name is Michael. I live in the subdivision of Lake Tulip, where my dad is in charge. I saved my sister," he chokes back tears, and so do I, "Anna, from the capture of the people of the pack. They want 20 grand.  Anna, its okay. I'm okay." The man then walks up behind Michael, gun aimed.

   "20 grand, Ms. Anna. Meet me alone on Friday, May 1st. I think you know the place." He cackles as he put the gun against my brother's head. "Or else." He slaps Michael in the face and turns off the camera.

   May 1st. That's a month away from now. 4 weeks.  "We can do it, but you know the risk." I had totally forgotten what they said before; ransom or no ransom, they would kill their captive.

   "I want to send them a message."

   "What exactly is your message?"

    "I want to speak to him. Face to face, no weapons. I want Michael to be there. That's it. Just see him once a week before the deadline. Proof of life, in person."

    "Okay."

    We record the message in the afternoon. I request that I, accompanied by John, could see him the three Fridays before the deadline, in person at noon, at the appointed place. No weapons. Then we send it. We get a response the next day over the radio.

  "See you in 6 days, Ms. Anna."

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  It's the following Friday, April 10th. John is sitting in his truck, radioing me. "You coming?" he asks as I slip on my jacket.

   "Headed out my door."

  I run out to the truck, my heart racing. There's no guarantee they will hold up their end of the deal. The ride is long, tiring. We park at 5 till 12, walk in, sit down on a shelf across from the grapes. Then they walk in.

   The man is dragging Michael, who has a flour sack pulled over his head. He throws Michael in the floor at my feet, ripping off the sack.