Echo of a Bird's Cry

THE VICTIM EDEN OCTOBER 26

The house is blanketed in thick darkness. My father yells for security but the bodyguards never respond. Rounds of gunfire go off and rapid flashes from ammunition briefly illuminate the outer hallway.

"Everyone, get under the table," Angel orders calmly.

The legs of chairs screech against the wooden floor as they all drop to their hands and knees to crawl under the shelter of the table.

I reach out blindly in front of me. My hands land on top of the hard wood of the table. My fingers tentatively touch the silverware until my fingertips graze over a cold jagged blade of a sharp steak knife. Two pairs of heavy footsteps come closer and closer, stomping into the room. It's a total blackout. I'm unable to see anything. My palms become slick with sweat but my fingers grip the wooden handle of the knife tight. My erratic pulse thunders in my ears.

There's a lot of tussling and shouting and movement. Emily screams and a brilliant beam of white light cuts through the deep darkness. I have to squint at first, the bright light fries my retinas. My vision clears and the beam of light washes over Evan, dragging Emily by her ankles from under the table. She claws at the wooden floor panels, trying her best to escape. The light illuminates another man standing at the entrance of the dining room. The man yells at Evan to hurry. The palpable urgency cracks his unidentifiable mask. This guy looks like he's ready to bolt. They both are dressed in camouflage and have night vision goggles on. The beam of light comes from Angel. He's as steady as a mighty oak tree as he holds a flashlight under his gun. The strange man takes out a pistol from his hip holster but Angel shoots him directly between his eyes. There isn't even time for the strange man to look surprised. The dead man collapses. Evan releases one of Emily's ankles, his hand disappears behind his back. He's reaching for a weapon.

I don't know what happens next. A horrible banshee scream causes my ears to ring. There's hot blood on my hands. The white beam of light flashes over me. I look up at Evan as he wobbles in front of me. A crimson smile spreads across Evan's throat. Blood profusely spills down his neck. He claws at his throat before he drops to the floor. The steak knife lies at my feet, abandoned. My parents hush and cuddle me. I inhale and my ears stop ringing. I was the one screaming. Those gut-wrenching sounds were coming from me.

***

The police and medics arrive on scene first and then the detectives. The medics assist us. Abel stitches tore and he bled through his bandages. He sits in the back of an ambulance as the medics re-stitch his wounds and apply new bandages. Emily's blonde hair is disheveled and her eyes are as round and wide as an owl's. She's distraught and she's definitely spooked but she didn't rip any stitches. Everyone else is uninjured for the most part. The medics insist on putting me in an ambulance so they could examine me but I refuse. I take inventory of myself. There are dark purple bruises blossoming on my wrists but those aren't from Evan and my throat feels raw from screaming. I'm not hurt, at least not on the outside. I can't quite assess how I'm feeling. I'm unable to pinpoint my exact emotions. It's more complicated internally.

The police and detectives take down statements as everyone gives the details and play by play. Rain and Darrius question me about what happened and I do my best to recall all the details. One second I had the steak knife in my hand. The next second it was lying on the floor at my feet and I was covered in blood. Darrius keeps his gaze on me the entire time. I think he's worried about me. I do feel like I'm unraveling a bit.

I slit Evan's throat.

I killed my sister's stalker.

The officers and detectives stay here for a solid two hours, investigating. We all wait outside in the courtyard. The perfectly sculpted bushes and manicured garden of flowers are at odds with bullet shells and blood splatter. The three tiered stone water fountain streams on despite the flashing blue and red police lights, evidence markers, and crime scene tape.

After the CSI technicians snap photos and comb through the place, the medics remove the bodies. There are several body bags.

I think about the six men that lost their lives. They didn't deserve to die. I think about Frankie and his wife and daughter. My heart aches for them. This is a tragedy.

Everyone huddles around me like a protective bubble. My father's spicy aftershave fills my nostrils as he leans in close to wrap his arm around me.

Why am I shaking so badly?

Both detectives walk up to us. Darrius casts me a concerned glance and Rain gives me an empathetic closed-lip smile.

"Evan disabled the electric generator and cut the power," Darrius informs.

"They killed your entire security team," Rain says. "And restrained and gagged all your employees. We found most of them kneeling inside the pantry."

Darrius glances between me and Angel. "Taking a life isn't easy. You both are heroes, but taking a life can be traumatic. We have counselors available if you need someone to talk to."

Angel nods and I can't find my words.

Darrius stares at me.

I gaze into his caring eyes, unable to look away.

God.

I recognize his brown eyes.

Where do I know this man from?

He is a familiar stranger.

"Do you mind if I talk to you for a second?" Darrius asks me.

I follow him down the extensive driveway. He stops at his unmarked police car. We both lean our backs against his vehicle and stare down the driveway at the madness of my family's home. The white sealed body bags make me queasy. I can't stop thinking about Frankie and his wife and daughter and how the loss of him will affect them. Things shouldn't have ended this way.

Detective Darrius arches a heavy brow. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm numb."

"Do you need medical attention?"

"No, I'll be okay."

"Do you feel safe?"

I glance down at my white gown splattered with blood. My gaze drops to my bloody hands. There's so much of it. The stickiness is starting to crust on my neck and under my fingernails. None of the blood is my own.

My nose stings and my eyes are burning. My knees get weak and I feel faint. Tears prick my eyes as dizziness takes over. Darrius catches me when my legs give out.

Those brown eyes stare worriedly into my own. I know those eyes. He shouts over his shoulder for medics.

"I know you," I say, my words disjointed.

His brows furrow as they roam over my face.

"I know you," I say, clearly. "You're eyes. I've seen them before."

He nods, his mouth in a grim line. "Yes."

"Where do I know you from? Who are you?"

He shakes his head. "It's not appropriate to have this conversation here. This isn't the right time."

It finally hits me. I know why I recognize him. "I see those eyes every day."

He shuts his eyes as if pained and pulls me into his chest for a hug. He's trembling. The tension in his body is strung tight like piano strings. One wrong move and he could snap. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out."

I see his eyes in my face and my eyes in his.

They're identical.

I swallow hard, breathing through the immediate panic. "Who are you?"

"Your father."