OneThreeThirteen (A Presidential Agent Novel Series Book 1)

OneThreeThirteen - Chapter 3

SLOWLY AND CAREFULLY, I made my way down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Scenes from all the police dramas I'd watched over the course of a lifetime came flooding back supplying me with the necessary information to handle a situation like this. I should be bold, and brash like Kate of 'Kate and Ally' and agile and clever like Starsky of 'Starsky and Hutch'. But the truth of the matter was, "I was just damn scared."

However, I knew to keep low with my back against the wall, checking behind me every few seconds. It wouldn't help John one bit, if I allowed myself to be captured by the same intruder who had taken him hostage.

Ever so quietly, I made it safely downstairs only to be both stunned and horrified by what I saw. The front door of our house was standing wide open. "Oh God, where's John? I thought. And why hadn't he come back to our bedroom? Had he left me alone in the house with an armed intruder? Or had he, loveable idiot that he is, chased the intruder out of our home and down the street?"

As I stood there on the stairs, I knew I had a choice to make. Either I turn and high tail it back up the stairs to the relative safety of our bedroom or make a run for the open door knowing that at any step along the way some loathsome stranger could jump out of the shadows, grab me, and clasp his dirty fingers over my mouth to stop my cries for help. A little voice within me said, "Go for it!"

I took off in a flash for the door, my heart pounding and a scream on the edge of my lips. Once through the door, I came to an abrupt halt.

John and several of our neighbors were standing in the middle of the street, like statues, transfixed by something in the distance. All of them were holding flashlights pointed in the direction of whatever it was that held their gaze. The four seven foot tall Emerald green Arborvitaes that lined our front entryway blocked my view of what John and the others were staring at. I tried calling him but to no avail. That rumbling noise that I'd heard upstairs was even louder, and seemed closer now that I was outside. I waived my hands over my head and screamed his name as loud as I possibly could. "J – o – h - n!"

He turned towards me and gave me such a pitiful look, that my heart sank instantly. I knew that look. He had that look when he was absolutely defeated. He had that look the night he'd come home and had to tell me that yet another business venture of his had failed. That look terrified me. Suddenly, I was more afraid of taking my next few steps, than I'd been crossing through the darken house. The next few steps would reveal what had everyone so transfixed. The next few steps would change everything. Again, I hesitated.

Being a cold January night, I had worn my flannel PJs to bed, the ones with the playful tumbling polar bears. Standing there like that, I suddenly realized I was freezing. I took a step back into the house and pulled my old faithful tan trench coat from the entryway closet and wrapped myself in it before going back outside.

For the first few steps, I kept my eyes locked on John. Curiosity, you know, the thing that killed the cat, got the better of me. I turned my head in the direction of everyone's gaze.

There illuminated against the dark night, was a trio of glowing mushroom clouds. My mouth dropped open from the shock. Clearly, they were what had caused the house to shake so violently and were, more than likely, the source of the rumbling noise.

John came over to me and put his arms around me. As we stared into each other's eyes, no words were necessary. We held each other for what seemed an eternity. But only mere seconds had ticked away on the clock.

In John's eyes there was such sadness -- such regret. He started to say, "I'm sorry that I never ..... I pressed my lips against his in order to stop, the 'I Should Haves'. "You don't have to apologize to me. Even now, knowing what I know, I'd still marry you anyway." We kissed again and held each other as we waited. There was nowhere to run.

That was the last thing I remember clearly. And then I was floating in that rolling, rumbling, screaming cloud. It had claimed us. I opened my mouth to scream, but dust clogged my throat and filled my lungs. My fingers were desperately reaching out in every direction searching for John or for anything that would secure me to the world I'd known only minutes earlier.

I was literally being ripped away from my warm comfortable suburban existence. Through the gray brown cloud that enveloped me, I could see the stars. How odd, I thought, to be rolling around in a dust and fragment filled cloud, looking up and seeing the brilliant white light of stars. 

By
Eliza D. Ankum
Author of
Flight 404
Ruby Sanders
Jared Anderson
Dancing With The Fat Woman
Thou Shalt Eat Dust
STALKED! By Voices

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