The Knightstick Chronicles, Rough Justice

Ch 15, Mothers Tears

After Uncle Chuck left, I made another bid for sleep, this time with a bit more success. It was mid-day now, but I was so damn tired it didn't matter. I tried to ignore the skittering sounds of the Negasites creeping in the corners until finally, the sandman came. I had nightmares the whole time of course. Mostly residual memories of Jeb's monstrosities, plus some new ones of kids being snatched from playgrounds by shadowy figures. None of them had the feel of talisman-induced visions. Just good old-fashioned trauma.

When I woke again it was around six, and my stomach was rumbling since I hadn't eaten all day. So I went into the kitchen, chucked a pot on the gas stove, and plopped some canned chili into it. A few minutes later I was putting something warm in my gut and started to feel a little better. I glanced across the room and, unsurprisingly, saw Leo standing in the corner by the TV. I just kept eating.

"I know this is difficult," Leo offered. "No one worthy to undertake this challenge would relish it. Your hesitation means you aren't stupid. Your disquiet means you are empathetic. You're a good man John."

I finished the chili and passed a Negasite sitting on the counter to toss my bowl in the sink.

"I'm going to fuck up," I confessed. "the stakes are too damn high, and I'm no hero. I couldn't save my partner, hell I barely held it together for that girl yesterday. What happens if I mess up again?" I asked.

Leo crossed the room and looked down at the talisman lying on the kitchen island counter. "You may." he said, "But fucking up, as you say, isn't nearly as horrible as giving up. Try, That's all I ask."

I grunted. Oddly, that made sense. And addressing my fears out loud helped ease the tension in my chest slightly. "Fair enough," I said.

Though I was still plagued with uncertainty, I picked up the talisman anyway, walked to my desk, and flopped down in my chair, placing the relic in front of me as I switched on my computer. "Ok, If this is about missing people, then that's where we start," I told Leo. "I need a victim. I need a prayer..."

Searching online through old news reports from the past several months, I looked over pictures of faces and families, trying to feel something, anything that might trigger a vision. It was a daunting task. Dozens and dozens had been reported. Most were the typical demographic, poor, underprivileged, high risk... but now, middle-class families were being affected, catching more media attention. These were people who didn't leave their kids unattended, or venture into dangerous places. People who would be loudly missed. Which meant the organization taking them was getter bolder.

I pulled up one of the recent articles featuring a bright-eyed, curly-haired little girl. Annabell, the girl whose body they found in the raid Finnick mentioned. The tragedy of it was surreal. Though I'd been on cases like this before, even so, this one was hard to swallow. She was only five...

I realized though I'd heard of Annabell several times, this was the first time I'd seen her picture... seeing he face made it much more real and brought inexplicably deep sadness with it. I felt an ache of grief growing in intensity in my chest, disproportionate to my involvement. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the sapphire glowing on the desk.

Odd, She was gone, why would I feel a prayer from her? I tried to follow the emotions. Closing my eyes and focusing on her mental image, I let the feelings come.

The picture in my mind became sharper, the feelings more pronounced. The emotions flooded me and I was out of myself once more.

I sat in a child's empty bedroom, awash in despair, absolute and total agony. I remembered her as a baby, could see her playing and laughing. But she was gone... gone. I could never hold her again. Would never see her grow up. My baby, my little girl. Why god, why? Why did you take her... I can't go on, help me, please!