Before He Wakes

CHAPTER ONE: The AccidentBernie Wilson cursed softly under his breath. The Walmart had ten different checkout stations but only three of them were currently open, the lines at each stretching back half a dozen long. Bernie gripped the handle of his cart, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, a kinetic personification of impatience.He had half a mind to simply abandon his groceries instead of waiting, but the cupboards were nearly bare at home and he didn’t want to end up like Mother Hubbard. A supply run was not only necessary but imperative. If he had only himself to worry about, he still may have left, but as it was he had his family to consider. He had to take care of them.Family.The word brought a rush of warmth to Bernie’s skin, as if his body housed a small furnace somewhere in his gut. Thinking of the love that waited for him at home acted as a balm to soothe his edginess. He took several deep breaths through his nostrils and willed his body to stillness.

CHAPTER THREE:WaitingOfficer Sanchez stepped through the automatic doors into the lobby of the Pelham Medical Center Emergency Department. A bored-looking nurse sat behind a desk straight ahead, alternately reading a paperback and scrolling on her cell. She didn’t even glance up at the sound of the doors whooshing open. Sanchez scanned the chairs in the waiting area. He saw an Asian couple, the woman cradling a crying toddler; an elderly black man holding a bloody towel to his forearm; a young woman with stringy hair hugging herself and rocking back and forth in one of the plastic seats; and a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a large nose chewing on his nails. Sanchez walked over to the nail-chewer.“Mr. Neil Baker?” Sanchez said.At first, the man continued to stare down at his feet, gnawing at his fingers like a dog with a rawhide bone. He seemed to notice Sanchez’s shoes first then let his eyes trail up the officer’s legs and torso before landing on his face.

CHAPTER FIVE:Exploring the EnvironmentPatrick sat in the far corner with his head against the plaster wall. Halfway along the back wall sat the bucket filled with dog food, just to the left of the spigot. The empty bucket he’d placed all the way in the opposite corner.Only it wasn’t empty any longer.He’d held out as long as he could, but eventually it had been go in the bucket or in his pants. Both options were humiliating, but he went with the one that would allow him to keep at least a tattered shred of dignity. Clare must have heard, just as he’d been able to hear her when she went earlier, but she had the tact not to say anything. In fact, they hadn’t spoken since, as if perhaps she was sensitive to his discomfort and embarrassment. Or maybe she’d simply fallen asleep.Now that he had eliminated, his body told him it was time to fill it back up again. His stomach cramped and gurgled, the hunger pains starting out as mere twinges but gradually building to sharp jabs. H

CHAPTER SEVEN:Breaking ThroughClare crouched in the far corner and clasped her hands over her ears as the pounding started on the wall.“Please stop!” she screamed.The pounding ceased, and Patrick’s soft voice drifted to her ears. “Clare, honey, just calm down.”“You’re going to get us into so much trouble when Big Daddy gets back.”“He may never come back, for all we know.”Clare pushed herself up and crossed to the plaster wall, putting her hands against it as if to form a connection with the young man she only knew as a disembodied voice. “Just hear me out, okay? Let me make my case.”“What, were you on the debate team or something?” Patrick asked with a laugh.Clare ignored the question, though truth was that she had been on the debate team in school. Albeit very briefly. She found she wasn’t cut out for it. She loved the idea of debate, a point-counterpoint exchange of opposing ideas with the intent of enlightening and informing. Unfortunately, what she’d discover

CHAPTER NINE:Clare’s AbductionClare paused at the open window, one leg thrown over the sill. She held her breath for thirty seconds, listening intensely for any sound, however small, that her parents might be up. The house silent, the only sounds the whirring whisper of the heat pump and the trip-hammering of Clare’s own heart. She’d waited until nearly midnight to head out, and her parents were always in bed by ten. Surely they’d be fast asleep by now, dreaming of a life in which they had a perfect daughter that never disappointed them. Much as she sometimes dreamed of a life in which she had parents who didn’t treat her like a total idiot.Once she was satisfied her father hadn’t gotten up for a midnight snack or her mother to use the restroom, Clare ducked through the window and dropped the foot to the ground below. Reaching up, she slid the window shut most of the way, leaving a tiny gap at the bottom to ensure she wouldn’t have any trouble reopening it when she returned home.