Mind Or Matter

Chapter Seventeen

Once the police let us go, Candi and I drove home. We talked about Chase.

"I mean," Candi started, "they didn't even want us to answer questions about Chase!" She looked at me frantically. "What happened to him? Why didn't they even mention him? Why the hell were they knocking on his door in the first place?!"

I pulled into the parking lot of Wood Heights. "And how did they know about kindergarten?" I asked, before shutting my mouth. I could feel my skin burning a little.

Candi didn't seem to notice. She was too busy complaining and questioning the chief's authority. "She's not even doing her job!"

I smiled a little. "She wasn't even hot."

Candi laughed, getting out of the car with me. "I know, right?"

A thought crossed my mind as I walked towards the lobby door with Candi, then following her into the first floor of the apartment.

We took the elevator to my room. Once we were inside, I asked Candi if she could make breakfast. She agreed, knowing that I'd have to email all of my students about how I wasn't there this morning.

I hope they understand, I thought as I sat down at my desk in my bedroom, opening Gmail on my computer.

It was 7:56 pm. The rain had returned, leaving the apartment's residents soaking wet when they came home from work.

I was sitting on the floor next to Candi's couch. She was napping. Candi says that rice makes her sleepy. We went out for Chinese tonight, and we'd just gotten back about five minutes ago.

I was still thinking about Chase. Not that I missed him. In fact, I hated Chase more than anything. He was a total dick.

He could've just moved away. But, then again, he had been missing for a while. I hadn't seen him since that night in the alley.

Candi shuffled on the couch. I looked up at her, hoping she didn't wake up. But she remained asleep, murmuring a little.

I thought about going to sleep. But I couldn't. I didn't even feel tired. My mind was on fire, wondering what the hell happened to Chase.

He could've left. After what happened with Candi, he could've just moved away. Otherwise, it'd be too awkward.

He probably thought that he'd get arrested for attempted rape. Now that I think about it, we should've turned him in instead of leaving him in the alley. What if someone came along and beat him up some more? He could've been helped by someone. But if he was helped, then why is he missing?

I decided to do some research. Walking over to my computer, I turned off the light so I wouldn't wake Candi.

Sitting at the desk in my bedroom, only my table lamp providing me with light, I turned on the monitor, the screen showing my desktop – a quote of Eleanor Roosevelt, "great minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, small minds discuss people."

I clicked on an open Google Chrome window from when I was researching Miami's population. In 2010, the total population was 399,457. Then, in 2015, the total was 441,003. Last year, it was about 450,000.

As of November, 2017, the population has grown to 453,579.

All of the sudden, the text on the screen flickered. It changed from 453,579 to 213,957.

It changed again. And again. The numbers kept dropping in huge chunks.

I stared at my screen, refreshing the page. As I pressed F5, the screen turned blood red. In bold, black letters were the numbers 666.

Without warning, there was a loud, piercing sound coming from the computer. It was like those hearing tests they give to old people, but worse.

I fidgeted around, unplugging the speakers.

The sound grew higher.

"Will?" Candi called, her voice sounding tired and airy.

Standing on my office chair, not caring that it had wheels, I looked at the computer on the shelf above the monitor and speakers. Pressing the button that would shut the computer down, I held my breath.

The screen turned black.

The piercing noise ceased.

Out of the corner of my eye, I swore I spotted shadows leaping across the room, disappearing down the hall.