The Vigilante Book 1

Chapter 13

I'm exhausted. I just want to go home...oh wait. I don't have a home to go to. My home wasn't ever my home. Jack's bunker is home now. I wish someone understood this. I wish someone could help me...

I stood and left where Dale had and went to my office in a daze.

"Computer, can you check my E-mail?" I asked.

"Affirmative," the machine replied.

"Please do,"

The blank screen on the wall came to life and brought a list of messages, it appeared that I had several. Most were from friends wondering where I had gone and if I were okay. Other people seemed to have found my address as well and sent me messages asking about my abilities. I found myself not caring about these and decided to respond later, if ever. The final one was from 'D.R.' That was the name and the address, it wasn't even attached to a website, just D.R.

"Computer, open E-mail by D-R," I commanded.

The E-mail came up on my screen and read:

Beware: Our enemies are abound.

-D.R. [Contact]

I realized that I had seen Dale's initials on his locker in the training room, D.M.R. I wondered if it was he who had sent it. Standing, I left my office, walked to Dale's and knocked noisily.

"You in there?" I asked loudly.

"Open door," Dale's barely audible voice came from the other side.

With a small hiss, the door unlocked. I pushed down the handle and entered.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I just checked my E-mail in my office and received one by a D-R. Did you send it?"

"Those are my initials, but I always use D-M-R for mine. Let me see it," Dale said, standing up and walking to my office.

We went in and Dale saw the still open E-mail on the screen. He appeared to read it several times, then looked at me.

"Well, did you send it?" I asked.

"No. But I know who did,"

"Who?"

"The one on the plane,"

"Him?" I asked.

"Yes, but I've never seen him contact anyone this way before,"

"His initials are D-R?"

"Yes. Do you want to send a response? This message was sent only a matter of minutes ago,"

"Yeah, but you do it," I said.

"Computer, draft response to current message," Dale commanded, "Keyboard please," he added.

A keyboard came out of a concealed slot on the wall.

"What do you want to say?" Dale asked, approaching the screen.

"Ask him, 'what do you mean?',"

Dale quickly typed it in and sent. About six seconds later, it received a reply.

Dale! Why are you on Mr. Xander's E-mail?

-D.R. [Contact]

Dale and I shared confused glances.

"Let me," I said.