Jump to new as of November 12, 2001
Posted on Sunday, 30 September 2001
June 28, 1997
Elizabeth Abigail "Abby" Bennett, age 16, danced around the house, singing along to Jimmy Buffett's "Only Time Will Tell"
"I woke up this morning feelin' absolutely grand/For nearly a half a century I been singin' in a band/I'd like to think I'll make it to two thousand and one/Will the party be at my place?/God, I wonder who will come.../Only time will tell..."
"My word, Abby-must you sing, too?" her sister Jane asked.
"Yes, I must-it helps calm my 'poor nerves,'" Abby laughed. "Okay, we've got two hours before we have to be at the church-Mom and Dad are driving there in the Beater, and we're taking the limo, right?"
"Right. Gah! Abby, I'm getting married!" Jane shrieked excitedly.
"Yes! You are! Now leave me alone so I can get dressed!"
Although Jane and Abby were sisters, they looked nothing alike. Jane was a classic beauty-tall and slender, with hair like spun gold and eyes so blue a person could drown in them. Her presence lit up the room upon entering, like the first day of spring melts away winter's gloom.
Where Jane was light and fair skinned, Abby was of a darker complexion. Dark chestnut hair flowed down past her shoulders; warm chocolate eyes peered out from under quizzical eyebrows. She was nowhere near as tall as Jane-just over five feet tall. Abby was small, dark, and possessed an energy that would make Jim Carrey jealous.
They were sisters, despite the discrepancies in appearance. Abby was adopted into the Bennett family at age five. Now, ten years later, Jane was getting married to Timothy Jonathan Willows, her long-time beau.
"So who is this guy Tim has to pick up?"
"His name is Will McKenna. He's Tim's half brother, and he's in the Marines. Be nice to him, Abby, or it's your head."
"What?" she exclaimed dramatically. "Do you honestly think I'd pull something?"
"I wouldn't put it past you."
"Great to see you have such great trust in me."
"Well, he's the best man, so you, as maid of honor, are walking with him."
"If he's the best man, why aren't you marrying him?"
"Please, Abby, cooperate!" Jane begged.
"Calm down, Princess. I'll be the little angel you all wish I was!"
When they arrived at the church, everything was ready. Flowers were in place, guests were seated, the organ playing softly in the background. As the wedding procession began meandering down the aisle, Abby's eyebrows raised in surprise when she saw who was standing up with Tim. A man of about average height stood in Marine dress blues, with close-cropped black hair and bright blue eyes. Abby swallowed a few times. That guy was hot!
"He must be Will," she thought. "Hmm. Age, about 20. Not too old. Very nice, very nice. No apparent wedding ring. Even better!"
The ceremony was over quickly and everyone proceeded to the reception. In the car, Abby tried several times to start a conversation with Will, but to no avail. His answers were short and brusque, if he answered at all. All though the reception he was quiet and sulky. Jane shot Abby many accusatory looks, but all she could do was shrug in response. Will wouldn't dance, wouldn't talk, and barely ate. By the end of the night, Abby had decided that Will McKenna was a rude, anti-social, arrogant jerk-off.
Years passed with little interaction between Will and Abby, which was perhaps a good thing. He continued in the Marines and was quite successful. Will married early, only a few years after Tim. She went on to college and got her teaching certificate. Every so often, at family functions and whatnot, they would meet up and share a few amicable words. After each brief encounter, Abby was left feeling a little more appreciative of the quiet man. She was surprised to see that she liked him, after seven or eight years.
Posted on Sunday, 30 September 2001
May 12, 2006
"Abby! She's gone, Abby, she's gone!" Jane's frantic voice sounded tinny through the phone line.
"Who's gone?"
"Caroline!"
"Will's Caroline?"
"Yes! She's gone! She just disappeared! Will's beside himself-Tim went out there to help run the farm for a few days."
"What about Ben?"
"Tim told him that his mommy went on vacation for a while. I don't think he understands that she's not coming back."
"Then you're certain she's not returning?"
"Yes. She said as much in a note she left for Will. Oh, Abby! The poor man is distraught!"
"That is understandable," Abby said with all the composure and detachment of a Vulcan.
Inside her head, gears were turning. Jane prattled on, in complete shock. Minutes ticked by as a plan formed in Abby's mind. After she ended her conversation with Jane, Abby turned on her computer and typed up a letter of resignation, effective immediately.
Two weeks later
Tim had left earlier that week, his vacation time having run out. Will Darcy McKenna moped around the house, half-heartedly doing the chores; feeding the livestock, cleaning stalls, etc. etc. etc. He was washing dishes while a four year-old boy sat in the small living room watching Sesame Street.
"Daddy, someone's coming," the boy said. "They're driving an old truck."
"How do you know, Benny?"
"I hear them."
"How's that, Benny? The road is a mile away," Will was exaggerating somewhat-the road was half a mile away.
Will went to a window and looked out. Sure enough, traveling up the winding lane that branched off the main road was an ancient blue Ford F-150.
"Just let me know when the tax man comes, okay, kid?" Will said, faintly smiling.
The truck stopped outside of Will's tiny, pitiful excuse for a farmhouse. The bed was crammed full of boxes and crates, as was most of the cab. The driver's side was empty, but a brown ponytail bobbed around the back of the truck.
"Hello?" Will said cautiously.
"Will!" a short woman with thick brown hair and big brown eyes pounced on him, nearly taking him to the ground.
"Abby? What are you doing here?"
"Jane told me all about what happened. I'm here to help out."
"How?"
"By taking care of the house and Ben. Now, wait, you know you can't take care of your farm and the house and Ben. I'll brook no refusals!"
"If we were anywhere else, Abby, I'd love to have you stay. But we're in the most conservative part of the state-it's unacceptable. We're not married-not to each other, or anyone else," he trailed off. Abby saw the pain in his eyes and for the first time ever, she saw him as vulnerable.
"It's unacceptable for your sister-in-law to come and help you raise your child?"
"People won't see it as that-They're used to seeing Caroline with me. You've never been here. The gossip-"
"Will be just that. Gossip. You need help, and I am here to help. You can tell all those old biddies to sit and swivel!"
Will laughed.
"That's better. Now, where is Ben?"
"He's in the house, watching T.V. He heard you coming from the road," Will smiled, although his concerns were not put to rest.
"Really? He's got good ears," she said.
Posted on Sunday, 30 September 2001
November 27, 2006
Six months had passed, and Will noticed a huge change. He found himself looking forward to going home at night to a warm house and a good meal. Caroline had never been much of a cook; they had often ordered from the local pizza joint. Abby should have gone to a culinary academy instead of that pokey community college-Will felt he was depriving the culinary world of a master chef.
Ben loved her-she was someone new to play with. And he didn't have to go to daycare once she came. The lady who ran it wasn't incredibly nice. She wouldn't do much of anything except watch soap operas on the T.V. By the time Abby showed up, Ben knew the history of every character on every daytime soap-and told Will all about them. Abby put a stop to all of that; they played games, read, etc., instead of watching television all day.
Abby began to notice little things about Ben-how he could stand so completely still; how he knew what was going to happen seconds before it did; how whenever the boy became upset, the temperature in the room would change dramatically. Each little oddity was stored in the back of her mind and forgotten.
Abby also started to take notice of Will.
Will started to take notice of Abby.
Ben started to notice Will noticing Abby and vice versa.
Neither Will nor Abby noticed Ben noticing them.
Neither Abby nor Will noticed each other noticing them.
(The author noticed a headache growing, so she stopped with the "notice"ing.)
Unfortunately for both parties, Will and Abby chose not to show their interest-both decided that it was inappropriate, given their circumstances. Life continued as normal at the farm.
March 28, 2007
One night in early spring, Abby chanced to look out the window after tucking Ben in. A movement in the brush caught her attention. The moon came out from behind a cloud, illuminating the scrub outside of the house. Her eyes widened-a figure was concealed in the vegetation not twenty yards from the house. The moonlight reflected off of something the person held. The figure began to stealthily move through the brush, scarcely making a sound.
Coming to her senses, Abby quickly scrambled out of the room, silently cursing Will for installing hardwood floors. She bolted into his room.
"Will! Quick! There's a guy outside Ben's room!" she hissed.
Without saying a word, Will jumped up, off of his bed, and ran for the door. On his way out, he grabbed the shotgun that he kept by the door; it was always loaded and ready for any predator that might threaten his livestock.
"Be careful!" Abby called quietly. "He may be armed!"
Seconds later, Abby heard two shots fired. A mad dashing through the underbrush led her to believe that the trespasser had gotten away. She sat down heavily on the sofa. Ben padded out of his room and sat next to her.
"What is wrong?" he asked.
"Oh, I just thought I saw a coyote, Ben, that's all."
"You're lying, Abby. There was someone out there, wasn't there?"
"Perhaps. I only saw a shadow."
Ben knew she wouldn't tell him anything more. Abby was too shaken, and he knew that she would want to protect him for as long as possible, even though it wouldn't be long enough.
"Are you okay, Benny?" she asked after a moment.
"Yeah, I just want a drink of water."
"Okay. But then back to bed," Abby said shakily.
Will returned as Abby left the little boys' room. He reloaded the gun, and answered Abby's questioning look.
"They got away-Whoever it was won't be back any time soon."
Abby looked pointedly at the gun.
"Ben knows to stay away from it. I told him that, and made sure he understood, as soon as he could talk."
He set the butt of the gun on the floor and leaned it against the doorframe. Abby was still shaking; he led her to the couch and made her sit. Will fixed her a good stiff drink, but she declined. He sat next to her, tilting his body so he could look her in the face.
"Why?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Why was he here?"
"I don't know," Will answered softly.
"He was after Ben, I know it-But why?"
"The point is he's gone. Ben's safe. We're safe," Will said.
Abby broke down and began to sob uncontrollably. The shock was just too much-she was convinced that the interloper had a gun, perhaps a semi-automatic. Unsure of himself, Will put his arms around Abby and let her cry on his shoulder. He had forgotten how wonderful it felt to hold someone in his arms. After a while, Abby quieted down and pulled away from him.
"I'm sorry, it's just that-" Will cut her off.
"No, it's no problem. It was a natural reaction. I was about to start crying myself," he smiled faintly. Abby laughed, wiping her eyes. "I didn't mind, really," Will added shyly. "I actually enjoyed it."
"Too bad it had to happen as a result of that," she said quietly.
"But it happened. What next?"
"I don't know."
"Perhaps a little more crying on your part will help clear your mind," Will suggested with a sly smile.
"Perhaps." Abby blushed. "But I don't think I can really cry again. Maybe if I just faked it, I could make my brain believe I was really crying. Should I try?"
"It's all right with me," Will said, leaning back onto the sofa.
A wide smile spread across Abby's face. She leaned back as well, laying her head on his shoulder. In minutes, they were both fast asleep.
Posted on Wednesday, 17 October 2001
April 4, 2007
"Have you noticed that Ben's been behaving rather oddly?" Abby asked Will one night after putting the boy to bed.
"No, not really. How?"
"Well, he seems to know what we're going to say before we say it. He's awfully mature for a 5 year old. And what about how, when he gets mad the room gets hotter? Doesn't that seem strange to you?"
"Not really. I think it's all in your head, Abby. I know he's a great kid, but you're taking it a little too far."
"Maybe. But isn't it possible that he's reacting to her leaving?" Abby pressed.
"Could be. Are you saying you want him to go see a shrink?"
"In a way. I know that things like a parent leaving or divorce or whathaveyou affect children in different ways-they may not show it, but sooner or later, it comes out."
"Fine. But I don't know how we'll pay for it."
"Don't worry about that-I'll take care of everything."
The next morning Abby called a friend, a psychiatrist called Sidney Freedman, who owed her a favor. She set up an appointment for the following Tuesday, then told Ben that they were going to talk to a friend of hers.
In the doctor's office, Ben was run through a barrage of psychological and physical tests, MRIs and CAT scans. After what seemed like hours of waiting, the results came back.
"Well, doc?" Abby asked.
"He's a perfectly normal little boy," Dr. Freedman started. "His intelligence level is above average for a child his age, and his brain activity is off the scale."
"Is that a good thing?" Abby inquired.
"Yes, Abby, that's a good thing," Ben said. Abby glared at the boy.
"The kid's right, Abigail. He's one smart cookie. As for his brain activity, I've never seen anything like it. I would like to study him, but that is for you and Will to decide."
"Thanks doc. I'll keep in touch. Are we free to go?"
"Yeah. So Ben, you gonna be all right?"
"Yes. Thank you Dr. Freedman."
"You're welcome."
It was late when Abby and Ben left the doctor's office. They stopped for dinner on their way home and were back just after dark. Will was still out in the barn, finishing his chores. Abby was just leaving Ben's room after tucking him in when she heard him say her name.
"Abby?"
"Yes, love?"
"Can I call you Mom?"
Abby was completely floored by the question. After a moment of shocked silence, she quietly responded.
"I guess so. If it's all right with your dad. Now go to sleep."
She was in the kitchen, still dazed, when Will came in.
"He wants to call me Mom!" she said.
"Who does?" Will asked, not sure of her statement.
"Ben! He just asked me if he could call me Mom!"
"What did you say?" he asked after a beat.
"I said that you would have the last say, but that it was all right with me. If you don't want it-"
"No. It's fine with me," he said. A few seconds elapsed before he asked, "What did the doctor say?"
"Sid said that he's normal, except for an above average IQ and abnormal brain activity. Sidney wants to study him, he's leaving the final decision up to us," she said softly. Will's face darkened.
"No! My son is not going to be some lab rat just because he's smarter than average!"
"Fine, Will. We can say no. It's not life or death. Please, honey, calm down! Sid just suggested it. I'll call him and tell him that we decided not to go through with it."
"I'm sorry, but if he's 'normal,' like I think he is, then I want to keep him that way for as long as possible. Having some shrink poke and prod him isn't going to help."
"I understand. He's going to take a lot of flak in school," she said.
"Yeah. Where do we go from here?"
"I don't know."
Posted on Wednesday, 17 October 2001
November 15, 2007
"Come on, Will; we're going to be late!" Abby called from the front door.
"Give the man a break," Jane said as she pushed an earring through the hole in her earlobe.
"Ben, are you going to be okay here with Elinor and Marianne?"
"Yes, Abby. I'll be fine. Tell Mr. Bingley and Mr. Ferrars hi for me," the boy said calmly.
"Okay, Elli, the numbers for the restaurant and the school are on the fridge-you know bedtimes and nightly routines. We should be back before nine," Jane added.
Parent/teacher conferences called Will and Abby to the school. Tim and Jane were visiting, along with their children; Elinor, Marianne, James and Lydia. The two oldest, Elinor and Marianne, had been adopted when they were children, ages 9 and 7, respectively and were now 21 and 19. James and Lydia were eight and six, and were Jane and Tim's biological children. Tim and Jane were going out to eat, leaving the care of the three younger kids to Elinor and Marianne.
Ben had a great teacher-Chuck Bingley was a friend of Abby's from college, and had gotten a teaching job at the school in Will's area. Chuck had a friend who was just starting out in education, one Eddy Ferrars. Chuck was able to pull a few strings and get Eddy a job with him as a student teacher. Both men were excessively nice and all of the children loved them.
Abby was a little curious as to why Ben was so calm. It was the first time she and Will had gone out without him, and she expected him to be more distraught. Then she remembered about his special circumstances and backed off.
They waited for a long time to talk to Chuck and Eddy, but when they did, they weren't disappointed.
"Hey Chuckie-how are you?" Abby said expressively. She smiled and hugged her old friend.
"I'm doing well. How is Ben doing?"
"He's okay. How is Ben doing?"
"H-He's doing well. Everyone likes him. We," Eddy said, indicating himself and Chuck, "try to keep this classroom a social environment-at least in our neck of the w-woods, kids lack social interaction. So for the first year of school we b-build up the kids' social skills and let them build friendships."
"That's all fine and dandy, Eddy. I know how they run the kindergarten. Is there anything else about him, like how he's getting along with the other children in the class?"
"W-well, all of the other children enjoy his c-company, but he is often uh, aloof. He is extraordinarily intelligent, a-and a joy to have in class, b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b," Eddy caught the B and repeated it until Chuck smacked him on the back of his head. "But we're a little concerned about his detached manner," he finished.
"Have either of you ever read the book Matilda, by Roald Dahl?" Chuck suggested.
"Um, no," was their answer.
"It's a wonderful book," Chuck continued, "about a hyper-intelligent girl who is ignored by her family and abused mentally and verbally in school. Since she is kept in the first grade when she should be in a grade much higher, her mind gets bored and she develops a type of telekinesis and uses it to escape her situation."
"And what does this have to do with Ben?" Will asked.
"Well, Eddy and I have done some thinking, and with what Abby has told us about Dr. Freedman, we have decided that Ben really should be put in a higher grade. He seems to be bored here with us, and if the school board approves, Ben could easily be put into middle or high school, should tests prove it necessary."
Will looked at Abby with concern. She shrugged.
"Do we have a choice?" Will asked.
"Naturally, the school would need parental permission and possibly permission from the child. It would insult Ben's intelligence to be put in a class without his prior knowledge," Chuck said.
"Why, exactly, would he have to be placed ahead of the other kids his age? What would happen if he didn't?" Abby asked
"W-well, his boredom w-would b-breed discontent. H-his intelligence w-would suffer, which w-would be a tragedy. W-we b-believe he would be unhappy without the challenge of a higher grade. He w-would be figuratively spinning his wheels," Eddy replied.
"Okay. We'll talk with him about it," Abby said, sensing Will's discomfort. "When you two are done," she asked, "Want to come over for a while? My sister and her husband are here with their kids. Two more won't hurt the party."
"Sounds great. We've only got two or three more appointments," Chuck answered for both of them. After all, Chuck and Eddy were roommates, and Eddy didn't have a car.
"Cool. Expect you at ten?"
"Thereabouts."
"All right. Later."
Abby and Will walked the mile home in relative silence. Both were thinking about the problem that was Ben. The stars were sparkling in the night sky, but the moon was nowhere to be seen. When they were a quarter of a mile from home they could hear the kids playing in the wide circle of the outdoor floodlight, Marianne yelling at them to quiet down, and Elinor reprimanding Marianne. They saw a pair of headlights turn in to the drive; Jane and Tim were home. The kids were playing a makeshift game of soccer and James smashed the ball far into the field next to the house. Ben ran after it, chasing the ball as it rolled and bounced through the tall grass.
No one saw the helicopter descend from the black dome of the sky. No one heard it either. Abby was the first to see it land. She stopped, terror stricken, and watched as men, two with big guns, filed out of the chopper. There were about four of them and they were hurrying in Ben's direction. Abby squeaked, causing Will to look in the direction of her gaze. Jane and Tim, Elinor and Marianne also looked out to the field. It took a few seconds for anyone to realized what was happening. Will and Tim both started running to Ben, with Abby fast on their heels. Jane and Elinor herded the kids into the house.
The men from the helicopter picked up Ben, who rightfully resisted. Will put on a burst of speed, but it didn't do any good. The helicopter was quickly boarded and started to hover, wanting to take off. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Abby watched Will approaching the chopper. One of the men swung out of the door and started firing at them.
"No!" Abby cried.
Posted on Wednesday, 17 October 2001
Little puffs of dust rose from the ground. One bullet hit its mark and Will went sprawling to the ground.
Abby screamed as the chopper flew away, taking Ben and leaving Will in the dirt. She ran to him, with Tim just behind her. Will was unconscious and lay on his side, blood staining his light blue shirt a dark purple. Tim checked Will's pulse.
"He'll be okay. Let's get him inside."
Abby and Tim supported Will's limp body into the house, Blood seeping from the wound on his shoulder. Will was unconscious, thankfully, although it didn't help much to be hauling 175 pounds of potatoes 100 yards to his house. Once safely inside, Jane took over. Ten years of being an ER nurse paid off as she deftly cut his shirt off, revealing a neat bullet hole in his shoulder. Tim led the kids into the other room.
"It looks like the bullet went straight though," Jane said with a sigh.
"Is that good or bad?" Abby asked anxiously.
"I think that, for the moment, it's good. I don't have to dig around to try to find it."
"There's a 'But' hiding there, I just know it."
"Yes-there is the exit wound. Get me the bottle of hydrogen peroxide," she said with the authority of a seasoned nurse. "Hold him still," she added before up-ending the bottle into the hole.
"Holy sh*t!" Abby gasped as the wound bubbled and fizzed.
Will groaned softly. Abby's brow knit in concern, and she shot a furtive glance at Jane.
"I need to get more supplies," Jane sighed. "He's going to need something stronger than ibuprofen when he wakes up. In an ideal situation, I'd have proper suturing equipment, at least decent bandages!"
"Well, we'll just have to make do with what we have, at least for the moment. We have some clean sheets that will make good bandages. They're still in the dryer, even. You run to the hospital and I'll bandage him as best I can. Just be quick! I hate to see him in pain."
"You and me both, dollface. I'll be back as soon as possible. Keep him as comfortable as possible."
"I will."
Abby quickly tore the sheets into strips and bound Will's shoulder as best she could. Her throat constricted and she bit her tongue, trying in vain to prevent the tears that threatened to fall. Minutes ticked by like hours, each dragging on and on. Abby began to silently pace the room, not taking her eyes off of Will. The creak of a floorboard caused her to look up, and when she was satisfied that it was nothing, her gaze fell upon an old photograph.
She picked it up and instantly recognized Will. Around him were three other people; a large black man, a slightly weasly-looking man, and a petite woman with a thick braid. They were all in military fatigues. Abby surmised that they were service buddies-after all, Will had been a Marine before he met Caroline.
Looking closer, Abby saw the names on the clothing-Brandon, Dashwood, and Fitzwilliam. Mental gears churning, she went to find Tim.
"Who are these people?" she asked.
"Uh, I think that's Jonas," he pointed to the black man. "That's Rick," specifying the second man, "And that's Margaret," he said, indicating the woman.
"Well. Thanks," she said before turning and returning to the bedroom.
Jane returned from the hospital, then quickly mended Will and gave him something for the pain.
"You want to tell the kids about Will and Ben?" Jane asked.
"They saw. Answer any questions they have. I suspect that at least Lydia won't understand. I'm gonna stay here, just in case he wakes up."
"Okay. Want some tea?"
"Yeah-there's some green tea in the cupboard above the stove."
Abby sat in an old chair in the corner and watched Will's still body.
"Oh!" she recalled bit of important information. "Jane!"
Abby got up and walked into the kitchen.
"Janey, before all this happened, and I mean just before, I invited Chuck Bingley and Eddy Ferrars over for coffee or whatever-It's too late to un-invite them, isn't it?"
"I think so. Are they in a maroon Caravan?"
"Yes."
"They're here."
"Great," Abby sighed. "What do we tell them?"
"The truth, I'd imagine."
"Wonderful." There was a knock at the door.
"Let them in, Jane dear. I'm going to check on Will-please tell them I'll be right out."
Posted on Wednesday, 17 October 2001
An Hour Later
"So there you have it," Abby said. "Will's in his room with a bullet hole in his shoulder and his son has been abducted. We are between the proverbial rock and a hard place."
"Why would anyone want to take Ben?" Chuck asked.
"You're guess is as good as mine," Tim said.
"Well, from what Sidney said, Ben's got some special abilities. Someone might have leaked the information to some organization."
"I thought Dr. Freedman said he was normal except for a high IQ and abnormal brain activity," Jane said.
"Well, that's true, but a five-year-old with that intelligence level could prove to be an asset or something," Tim suggested.
"But why? He's five years old-he doesn't pose a threat to anyone!"
"Then there is some shady business going on that we don't know about. Government conspiracy. Cover-ups. Espionage," Chuck suggested.
Abby's face went white.
"You're not helping, Chuck," Jane said, getting up and retrieving a glass of water for Abby.
"I'll go check on Will again," Abby said numbly. "Where did Eddy and Elinor go?" she asked, noticing the two were absent.
"Probably outside," Chuck replied. "Eddy's not too fond of small, crowded places. A classroom is one thing; a tiny house is another."
"Quasi-claustrophobic? Interesting," Tim said.
Abby stood and went into the bedroom. Surprisingly, Will was awake and staring at the ceiling.
"Hello," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"
Will turned his head and looked at her.
"How do you think I feel? My son is gone and I've been shot! Please, go away."
"Will," Abby pleaded quietly.
"Go. Away. Abby."
"We'll get him back, Will," she said, pulling a chair beside the bed.
"How? You're talking about going against some unknown military or government agency."
"We'll find a way. You've got military connections," she began, gently touching his arm. She quickly drew it back when he flinched.
"With people I haven't spoken to in at least seven years. Face it, Abby, it's a lost cause. We'll never see Ben again."
Abby crawled up onto the bed and curled up next to Will, laying her head on his good shoulder.
"Oh, William," she sighed.
The Next Day
Will woke up late, due to the medication Jane had given him before he fell asleep. The first thing he noticed was Abby's absence beside him. The smell of strong coffee and a sharp pain in his shoulder spurred him to get out of bed. He ambled into the kitchen and somehow managed to pour a cup of coffee with his arm in a sling.
He nearly dropped the mug of coffee when he heard the booming laughter of Jonas Brandon reverberate through the house. Will took the two steps to the door of the living room and looked inside. He let the coffee fall when he saw who was sitting in the little room.
Jonas Brandon, defense specialist. Age 35. Built like a brick wall.
Margaret "Rita" Dashwood, weapons specialist. Age 30. Knew more about weapons than the manufacturers.
Rick Fitzwilliam, electronic surveillance/covert operations specialist. Age 32. Able to hack into any computer operating system known to man.
Will McKenna, Commanding Officer. Age 31. Trusted by all who knew him.
Jonas stood, his head bumping the ceiling.
"Well, Boss," he said in a booming bass. "What next?"
Posted on Saturday, 10 November 2001
November 16, 2007. 9:00 a.m.
Tim had gone to town for something, not giving any specifics as to when he would be back. No one really noticed his absence, especially not Will. With all of his service buddies in the room with him, Will felt energized. Whenever they were together, they were a force to be reckoned with-they were a team.
"Well, Boss? What's up?" Rita asked.
"Someone has my son. I want to get him back."
"Who wouldn't?" Rick said. "Do you have any idea who would want to take Ben?"
"Aside from Caroline?" Will scratched his forehead. "No."
"Abby said something about Ben's 'special abilities.' What do you think he's capable of?" Rita inquired.
"His brain is over-active. Maybe he's telekinetic. Maybe he has some special powers that the government wants."
"Project Wunderkind," Jonas rumbled. The word sounded odd coming from his mouth.
"What?" Abby gasped.
"Project Wunderkind. It was started a few years ago by the Department of Defense. The program was discontinued when it was found to be unethical," Jonas said.
"Wait, unethical? What were they doing?" Jane asked.
"Finding kids like Ben and training then for who knows what. The project focused on sharpening the kids' abilities, whatever they were, and developing others."
"Like the X-Men?" Abby asked. Will shook his head in embarrassment.
"A little. Some would say the kids were mutants. After the program started, the DoD got a little suspicious. They weren't getting the results they wanted, so they investigated the program. Turns out they weren't just refining skills, but they were also brainwashing the kids. The generally accepted belief is that they were training them to be assassins. Who's going to suspect a little kid of being an assassin?" Rick added.
"I remember when Ben would get upset, any electrical appliance he might happen to be around would malfunction. It was rare, but none the less frightening."
"Would you please stop talking about him in the past tense? He's still alive," Will said.
"I know. I'm sorry. Oh, God, I hope he's okay," Abby said.
Fort Henricks, Montana
10:30 a.m.
The old Air Force base had long since been abandoned, and proved to be the perfect headquarters for the resurrected Project Wunderkind. The lights in the building weakly illuminated a black helicopter and Ben, who was sitting in a metal folding chair, his hands taped behind his back. Caroline Barrister-McKenna paced nervously, puffs of smoke issuing from her lips as she consumed cigarette after cigarette.
"Why did you bring me here, Caroline?"
"Well, I don't get to see you often enough, Ben honey," Caroline said in a very fake tone.
"Bull honky. Tell the truth, Caroline. For once in you life."
"Don't answer him," a new voice echoed in the hangar. "The little twerp is just trying to make you angry."
"Hello, Frankie, it's nice to see you too," Ben said acidly.
Frankie Ferrars sat down in a second folding metal chair and frowned.
"Where're Jack and Tim? They were supposed to be here an hour ago," she said.
"We're right here," Jack said.
"Hi Uncle Tim, long time no see," Ben sneered. "What did you tell Aunt Jane this time?"
"Shut up, you little fur ball," Jack Wickham growled, raising his hand to swat the boy.
"Don't call my son a fur ball!" Caroline hissed.
"I am no more your son than Jack the Ripper is, Caroline," Ben said severely.
"I gave birth to you!" she shrieked.
"And you abandoned me psychologically right after that and then physically two years ago. Tell me the truth, Caroline," Ben spat the words out as if they tasted bitter. "You never wanted me in the first place, did you?"
Caroline's eyes shot daggers at the young boy. He met her gaze, his blue eyes cold as ice, and did not flinch. The lights flickered in the long room, and then dimmed considerably.
"Don't make him upset, Caroline," Tim said quietly. "Unless you want the power to go out."
"He started it," she said sulkily, looking more like a ten-year-old girl than a thirty four-oops, 29-year old woman.
"So what's next?" Jack asked.
"It's time to train the little brat," Frankie said. "Jack, you head back to Chester (South Dakota) and somehow weasel your way into their group. You are going to serve as an informant and as a means to tangle up their plans for recovering the boy."
"You do know I'm still here, right?" Ben said, amazed at the lack of intelligence among his captors.
"If you don't shut up, you little weenie, I'll make it so you never see your daddy again!" Jack snarled.
The lights went out and the whole room was thrown into darkness.
"I told you not to make him mad," Tim said.
Posted on Saturday, 10 November 2001
McKenna Homestead, Chester, South Dakota
November 16, 2007. Noon.
Will paced around his living room, deep in thought. Jonas had set up his laptop and was finding all the information he could about Project Wunderkind and the people who ran it. Rita was checking the maintenance on Will's old rifle, cleaning the rust off of it and oiling the firing pin. Rick was playing games with the kids while Abby and Jane kept to coffee flowing. Chuck and Eddy had long since gone home, but only once they elicited a promise from Will: If they could be of any help, Will would call them.
"Found it!" Jonas said. The adults crowded around the small table to look at the computer screen. "Project Wunderkind was based at Fort Henricks Air Base in Montana. They mainly chose kids with telepathic and telekinetic 'powers,' and trained them to harness this energy. Then the real training began-for lack of a better term, brainwashing."
"We all ready know that," Abby said impatiently. "Who's behind this?"
"Let me see-Frances 'Frankie' Ferrars is the ringleader. She's the only one mentioned."
"Great. So we now know where they are. What next?" Abby asked.
"It's gonna take a little while," Will said. "If Frankie's got that kind of manpower, we'll need more than an old 30/30. Rick and Rita- head back to Fort Schechter* for 'supplies,'" he waggled his eyebrows.
"How long do you think it'll take?" Abby asked.
"A couple of days, and that's without cutting through all the red tape," Rick said.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Abby exclaimed. "Gitcher rear in gear! Scoot! The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll get back."
"Gee, I wonder if she wants us to get going?" Rick smiled.
"Here, Brandon," Rita tossed the 30/30 to Jonas. "Take care of my boy."
Jonas nodded grimly.
"They probably won't be back," he said, not quite believing his words.
"I think I'll call Chuck," Jane started, "James and Lydia don't need to be exposed to this, and if he says it's okay, we'll crash there. You don't need five extra mouths to feed."
"Five?" Marianne asked. "You mean Elli and me are going with you?"
"Elli and I," Jonas corrected. Marianne made a face at him.
"Yes, you are coming with me. I won't take any arguing, young lady," Jane said sternly (Can she do that? Apparently she can). Marianne pouted.
"If you want too, Jane, sure," Abby sighed, passing the phone to her sister.
By 12:30 p.m. it was all settled; Jane, Elinor, Marianne, James and Lydia would stay with Chuck and Eddy until things calmed down. Elinor didn't have a problem with the arrangement, as it allowed her more time to spend with the cute-if-stutter-prone Eddy.
All anyone could do was wait for Rita and Rick to return from Fort Schechter.
Fort Henricks
4:00 p.m.
Frankie stalked the length of the hangar and back. Things were not going well; Jack had just left, Tim was phoning his wife to give her some lame excuse as to why he wouldn't be home that night, and Caroline was trying to talk to Ben.
"I want my mother," Ben said.
"I am your mother," Caroline hissed.
"No, you're not."
"Then who is?" She asked mockingly. Ben stared blankly at her.
"One of Dad's friends. She heard you abandoned us, dropped everything and came out to take care of me and Dad. I wouldn't be surprised if Dad asks her to marry him when this is all over."
"Name?"
"Uh-uh. I don't think so! I don't want her to get hurt. I like her too much."
Ben's words had the desired effect: Caroline's face reddened and a little vein on her forehead started throbbing. He smiled angelically.
"Aww, Caroline, don't get upset-remember, You left Us.
Something in Caroline snapped, and she slapped the little boy across the face. His head rocked back, finally falling forward onto his chest.
"Not another word from you!" she screamed. "Not another word!"
Ben looked up, grinning, an angry red welt glowing on his tan skin. He simply shook his head, as if to say: "You shouldn't have done that."
A light bulb above their heads exploded, sending glass and sparks flying.