Don't Order Dog_ 1(175)

“Predictions in the New Business Ecology”

Jeri could tell by its worn edges that it wasn’t just a copy of her father’s book – it was her copy. She opened it and slowly turned the thin crisp pages to the first chapter. There, a sheet of stationary from the Flagstaff Motel 6 was pressed inside. A brief note in a familiar, precise handwriting was written across it.

Something to pass the time,

and answer some questions.

We’ll be arriving soon.

Jeri crumbled the note and tossed it angrily at her feet. A sudden rush of rage

filled her. She dropped the book and slapped her hands against the ceiling of her steel cell.

“Let me out of here!” she screamed, ignoring the loud echo of her voice in the cramped space. ”Goddamn it, Chip… let me out of here! I know you can hear me! Get me out of this fucking box right now!”

After pounding at the cold metal for what felt like an eternity, Jeri laid back breathless from exertion and listened. To her frustration, she could hear nothing more than the steady sound of the engine as the vehicle sped onward toward their destination. Gathering another burst of energy, she pressed her hands and knees against the ceiling of the container and pushed with what remained of her strength.

But it was no use.

Exhausted, Jeri fell back against the thin sleeping pad beneath her and started crying. She wanted to tear through the steel cell around her and rip the head off of Chip and the men who had taken her. She wanted to be free of this madness. She wanted to be on her flight to India. She wanted to be starting a new life. She wanted all of these things. But as she laid there in the light of the flashlight and slowly calmed down, Jeri quietly accepted an inescapable fact. None of these things were possible until she knew exactly what all of this was about.

She picked up her father’s book and held it in the bright beam of the flashlight. It felt heavy in her hands. She turned it over and looked at the young smiling face on the back cover. As she looked into the eyes of her father, Chip’s words echoed in her mind.

Your father considered his book to be the conclusion and greatest achievement of his ‘former’ life, so he decided to publish it under the name James Stone.

Jeri opened the book and flipped to the first chapter. Soon enough she would have the opportunity to confront Chip and her captors. First she needed some answers. First she needed to meet James Stone. She took a deep breath and started to read.



∞



Tom opened his eyes and glanced drowsily at his surroundings. He was lying on his back in a strange, unfamiliar room. A noticeable smell of rubbing alcohol and sterilized bandages hung in the air. He moved his arm and winced at a sudden, wakening sting. To his surprise, two IV tubes now ran from large needles in his wrist. He then noticed the heart monitor beeping quietly over his shoulder.

What the hell was going on?

Tom had no memory of arriving at the hospital. And yet here he was, lying under the sterile white sheets of a bed, wrapped in the ridiculous light-blue gown of a patient. He started to sit up – and immediately cried out at the searing pain in his leg. Confused, he threw back the sheets to find his leg heavily wrapped above his knee. The bandage was stained with a small round patch of dark blood. Even without remembering what had occurred, Tom had seen enough wounds like his own in the line of duty to know what it meant.

He’d been shot.

He reached over and angrily pressed the large call button tethered to the bed. A moment later a nurse’s voice sounded over the speaker.

“Can I help you, Mr. Coleman?”

“I’d like to know what the fuck happened to me.”

“Ok, sir,” the nurse replied tersely. “Someone will be there in a moment,”

Tom sat quietly, staring at his wounded leg. Why couldn’t he remember what had happened? The last thing he could recall was walking into the saloon and speaking to Chip and another man, but his memory was hazy at best. He sat gloomily, gingerly feeling for any other wounds on his body when a tall figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. He looked up and shook his head.

“Alex?” Tom muttered, surprised at the sudden appearance of his brother-in-law. “What are you doing here?

Alex said nothing as he closed the door and moved stiffly over to the chair next to Tom’s bed. His left arm was bandaged and hung awkwardly in a sling. A large bandage covered most of his forehead.

“Jesus Christ,” Tom said as he watched his brother-in-law slowly lower himself into the chair. “What the hell happened to you?”

Alex eyed Tom for a long moment before speaking.

“Let me guess… you don’t remember anything.”

Tom gave his brother-in-law a grim look before shaking his head.