Shattered

Chapter 27 Mark

"The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each other." Mario Puzo

It was all falling apart.

Bradley's arms were around Mark, a protective layer of embrace, but it didn't provide any sort of comfort. Whoever had taken that picture had been there when his sister had been brutalized. How could it be possible that same persons responsible for his sister's death were also responsible for terrorizing Mark and his friends? It made no sense.

"Mark?" Phil pulled on his arm. They were going to die. He blinked his eyes several times and stared at Bradley while she held onto him, her body shaking. "Mark?" Phil grabbed his arm again. He closed his eyes and wondered if Melissa knew she was going to die.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Brody shouted.

"Mark," Bradley stroked his cheek, "baby, please say something." Mark's ears were working just fine, but he didn't want to move as the sadness of his sister's loss spread throughout his entire body.

"Screw this," Brody pointed at Mark. "He's useless! And, she," pointing at Emma, "refuses to leave this house! We're sitting ducks in here!"

Bradley reached inside Mark's jean pocket for her cell phone and quickly thumbed through her contacts, hitting the dial when Detective Jones' name came up.

"Hello? Detective Jones?" Bradley quickly shouted when there was a faint answer. "It's Bradley Whitfield and we're...we're in trouble and we need help!"

"Bradley?" the Detective said with more conviction. "What happened?"

"Someone is outside the house and...and...they taped a picture of Melissa Harber to the window and they're going to try to kill us..."

"Bradley, I need you to slow down," Jones interrupted. "Have you called 9-1-1?"

"Ummm..." she looked up at Phil. "I don't...we didn't...it just happened..."

"Call, now," she cut her off again. "From another phone. Do you have access to another phone?"

Tommy was already dialing and talking to the 9-1-1 operator. "Tommy called."

"Bradley, I'm getting dressed but I'm at least four hours away, it's going to take some time for me to get there. I need you to go with the local authorities when they get there, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good, now I need you to tell me, did you see who is out there?"

"No," she muttered. Mark was suddenly awoken by the fear in Bradley's voice and grabbed the phone from her hand.

"It's the same people who killed my sister," he pulled Bradley close, stroking her back for comfort. "The picture...it's sick...it had to have been taken when Missy was close to death."

"Mark?"

"Yeah," he choked.

"I'm not familiar with your sister's case. Do you remember who the detective was working on it?"

Mark shook his head in anger. His parents had sheltered him from her disappearance all those years ago. "I don't remember. It was five years ago."

"I'll find out and touch base with the detective, see what kind of leads he had on your sister's murder. Mark, I need you to hold on for a minute, my other phone is ringing."

"It's going to be okay," Mark whispered to Bradley, kissing her on the forehead. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he promised with a renewed sense of faith."

"Tommy said it's going to take the police like twenty minutes to get here," Bradley's lip was trembling. "Are we going to be okay until then?"

"Yes," he lied as best he could. Something bad was going to happen, he could feel it.