Chapter 3

Lakeview Apartments

"As usual, this is a dump."

Dropping the square piece of cloth back on the ground, Miss Parker made a full turn in the small, one room apartment. Despite the name and its implication it was far from being lakeside. Two other apartment buildings blocked of any kind of view that could have made the name valid. The wall were covered in some kind of wall paper, the faded flowers had long since lost any coloring that they might have had. Not that she was really interested. Dusty sheets hang in front of the window. One tuck and the frayed material would disintegrate. That's probably the reason he had never opened them, leaving the room dark and depressing. The bed in one corner was moth-eaten, lumpy affair and she could not imagine Jarod ever sleeping on it. She watched Sydney finger the paper left on the desk, shifting them slightly to get a better read.

"So Syd, why do you think rat boy left no welcome present?"

His gaze shifted from the paper to where Miss Parker stood regally in the middle of the room.

"I don't think Jarod planned to leave this soon. Something's wrong."

Walking over to where Sydney stood, she narrowed her gaze. She gave a cursory glance at the torn paper, before asking in a low voice.

"Explain?"

Sydney was staring into the distant, lost in his thoughts. Even if he had not had the conversation with Jarod, he would have known that something was not quite right. This place was too depersonalized even for his wayward Pretender. He had slipped a piece of paper into his pocket before Parker had noticed, hoping that it would lead to some more clues regarding Jarod's cryptic message. Aware of Parker waiting for an answer, he answered.

"Jarod takes great pride in letting the Centre know that he was still free and enjoying each discovery. This place has no new toys, no indication that he had lived here. Something must have happened to have prompted him to leave before he was ready."

"Great. So wonder boy is spooked."

She stared at Sydney, wondering if he knew more than he let on. She was about to comment on it when her phone interrupted her.

“What?”

“Is that any way to greet your brother, Sis?”

“What do you want, Lyle.”

“Dad wants an update on Jarod.”

Exasperated, she turned away from Sydney.

“Are you his new secretary, Lyle? I don't remember reading the memo.”

“Parker, I'm just relaying messages. Seeing that we're family, dad probably thought I could find out firsthand whether you have found Jarod.”

“No, as usual we are left traversing in the slum-houses that he chooses to live in. While you're relaying messages,” she demanded, allowing a set smile to flirt across her face, “send a cleanup crew to this address. We might get lucky. It looks like rat boy's departure might have been unplanned.”

She waited for Lyle to acknowledge her demands, before ending the call in a low growl, “Lyle, next time you want to have a family chat, forget my number.”

************

Lakeview Apartments

His lens focused on the brunette leaving the building. She was dressed in an almost-too-short skirt with a matching jacket. Focusing on her face, he took his first and second frame while she turned and spoke to a white haired distinguished looking man behind her. His third frame was of a balding technician, jabbering along on some line before an irate look from her closed his mouth. His fourth focused in on her face. His fifth was almost perfect. It was almost as if she had sensed his presence, her stare focusing on his hiding place. Her face had a determined look on it, her eyes calculating. She took a step into his direction before turning back to the older man. He took five final frames of the trio before they got into a Lincoln and drove off.

************

Police station, Blue water

Closing his door, he took a moment to reflect on his emotions and feelings. Taking out the silk, he allowed his fingers to taste the texture of the material. Bringing it to his face, he looked at the black hood that had become a symbol of his captured past with the Centre. Flashes of memory sprung in front of his eyes, the black surface seeming to shimmer with images in black and white of him when he was a boy.

The noise was loud enough to wake him. Curling further under the blankets, he felt fear paralyze him.

Closing his eyes, he dropped his hand to his side. He tried to shake of the feelings that were slowly eroding away his self.

The hand was big and rough that closed over his mouth and nose. He tried to kick, to fight, but he was helpless.

A loud knock sounded on the door, the vibration shaking through his body that was leaning against it. Drawing a shaky breath, he bundled the cloth back into his jacket. Wiping his face, he turned and opened the door. A young officer stood staring back, his baby face clean-shaven and fresh.

“Sir, detective Murray wants to see you in the evidence room.”

Thanking the officer, he wondered if he should put the cloth in his office before deciding against it. Making his way past the desks in the open office area, he took the time to sim his way out of the memories. Opening the door to the evidence room, he noticed Murray standing at a far desk, the clothes of the thief laid out on the table. He made his way over there, noticing the other's scrutiny. Shaking his feelings that something was wrong, he smiled slightly at Murray.

“Agent Kennett, sorry for the intrusion, but I thought you would want to see this.”

“No problem. What did you find?”

Using tweezers, the detective opened the back pocket of the bloody trousers. Extracting a small yellow piece of paper, he slowly put it on a steel gray plate. Turning his blue gaze on Jarod, he turned the plate so that Jarod could see what was written on it. What he saw he had not expected, and an involuntarily gasp escaped before he could contain it.

************

Mythos House, Michigan

He watched the boy eat the food he had prepared. It fascinated him, the idea that children would grow into adulthood. It also brought with it dark memories of his own time when he was a child. Ignoring the uncomfortable way it made him feel, he finished his current task he was busy with. He kept an eye on Davey, glancing at the monitor now and again while he allowed himself a brief rest.

The boy's hands loosened its grip on the plate. It slid out of his grasp to land on the floor. Opening the steel door, he gathered the remaining food back into the plate and cleaned the mess. Turning back to the sleeping form, he rearranged the body on the bed so that he lay comfortably. Pulling the blanket over the comatose boy he felt a strange warm feeling filling his chest. He wanted to dwell on it, to examine it and understand it but he remembered his first lesson. Shaking his head, his face impassive and his eyes hard, he left Davey in his bed and locked the door behind him.

************

Police station, Blue water

"Is there anything wrong, agent Kennett?"

Shaking his head, Jarod stared at the sign that stared back at him. It was written with a thick black marker pen, the dark lines swollen and purposefully drawn. A vague unease filled him while he tried to recall the significance of the sign. He knew he had seen it before; the problem was that he couldn’t remember where. It wasn't of a past sim he had done since he had been out and that meant memories left buried in his past at the Centre.

"Do you know what it means?"

"I have never seen this before. It reminded me of an old case but the markings are different. I apologize if you thought it might shed some light. If you'll excuse me, there are still a few things I want to check out before I want to discuss this with you."

He turned to leave when Murray called him back.

"Agent Kennett," Murray made sure he had Jarod's attention before continuing, "don't leave town."

He watched the other leave, turning his attention back to the piece of paper on the tray. He wondered why the markings had such an effect on the other, to him it meant nothing. He gave instructions to the officer to get the evidence to forensics. He had done his part, wanting confirmation that Jarod knew more than he let on. He now had enough doubt to validate a personal investigation of the mysterious agent.

************

Centre

"She's back."

Turning from his spot besides the window, Lyle faced his father.

"Good. I want to know what information she managed to get from Jarod's last lair."

Pushing his gloved hand into his pocket, Lyle said as respectfully as he could manage, "What about the phone call to Sydney. Are we going to act on it?"

Mr. Parker left the question hanging for a minute before answering his son.

"No, for the moment I want to see what Sydney is going to do. Intensify the surveillance on him. If he starts poking in the wrong place, I want him stopped. Till then let him be."

Lyle was about to respond when the double doors to the office swung open. He watched his sister enter the office confidently. Walking up to her father, she gave him a quick hug and a small peck on his cheek. Her gaze stared defiantly at Lyle, challenging him silently before she refocused on her father.

"Angel, it's nice to see you back," circling his desk, he seated himself as he asked, "Did you find any clues regarding Jarod's whereabouts?"

"No, daddy. It looks like Jarod left before he had time to set up his usual repertoire. The cleaner team is still busy analyzing everything they had found. We might get lucky this time."

Beaming at his daughter, Mr. Parker leaned back in his chair.

"You're a Parker. I know you'll catch him, Angel. I'm looking forward to reading your report first thing in the morning. Call me later and maybe we can reschedule our dinner meeting."

She sighed and nodded, "That would be nice, daddy. I'll talk to you later."

Lyle watched his sister leave, and turned towards his father.

"What if she finds out?"

"I won't allow it," Turning his angry gaze on his son, he continued, "She must never find out. Do you understand, Lyle?"

With a slight nod to his head, Lyle agreed with his father and made his way from the room. He still had a meeting with Cox to attend.

************

Jarod's apartment

He couldn't breathe. Stumbling, he made his way to the window. His actions were jerky, spasmodic as he struggled with the latch before managing to open it. The cold night air chased any vestiges of warmth from the room. Leaning out, he took deep gulps of air as the sweat dried on his body.

The cold crept in, creating goose bumps on his skin. Feeling better, he pushed the window halfway down. Ignoring his crumbled sheets, he used the outside flashing billboard to light his way towards a small desk that sat against the far wall. Grabbing the Halliburton case, he placed it on the flat surface. His whole life was inside this square case, detailing everything he had experienced except for the gaps when Raines had played his demented experiments. Anger arrived briefly and he wondered what had been done to him. He can only see small glimpses and they were bad enough. Opening the case, he inserted the disc.

For Centre use only

The scene showed a small room. A cot stood against one wall, a sink against the other. Nothing seemed out of place, his space undisturbed. Abruptly the door opened to reveal a much younger Sydney. He entered the room, his face lined with worry. He made straight for the cot. Kneeling, he looked underneath the mattress.

“Jarod.”

A faint snuffling could be heard over the speakers. Sydney looked briefly at the camera before refocusing on the space underneath the cot.

“Jarod, come on out of there.”

Sydney waited for the space of five seconds, the whispers of faint words unrecognizable.

“Who, Jarod.”

Another few seconds were spent with Sydney's bent form by the bed while the noises scratched from the disc again.

Jarod stopped the recording. Leaning closer, he increased the sound. Rewinding to the point just after Sydney came in; he tried to hear what his younger self had said. He couldn't make out the words. The line of sight and Sydney blocked the sounds.

Increasing the sound again, he leaned in even closer. Focusing only on the sounds, he held his breath and listened.

“He ... sa... ..e'll c...e ...me...”

Letting out his breath, he rewound again. Turning the sound to its highest setting, he closed his eyes. Simming his way back into himself, he heard his first sentence uttered to Sydney and with it came the release of memories.

He was frightened and couldn't sleep. The bogey man was coming and he could not hide from it. He tried to push his small body further into the corner under his bed. He heard Sydney's command and though he knew he had to obey he couldn't make his limbs work. Shaking his head, he whispered brokenly back.

“He said he'll come for me. He said that you will let him take me.”

He hugged his knees tightly, hoping to get any kind of warmth. The room was cold. The rough texture of the wall pressed into his back, creating small indentations in his skin. He wasn't aware that he had moved from his desk, that he had folded his body underneath it. Eyes still closed, he relived a part of his life he didn't want to. The DSA kept playing, the Sydney's question vibrating around the room, his lips forming the same words as the barely heard ones in the disc.

“The dark angel. He comes when I sleep.”

The light from the DSA intermingled with the billboard's to create a garish blue grayish glow. Jarod shivered, and curled into a fetal position under the table. His eyes focused on an image that formed in the playground of dancing light. His eyes widened in fear, his hand stretched outwards to ward of the specter that hung in air. It smiled slowly, the teeth colored a dark blue, the eyes sparkling in twin stars. Closing his vision against what he saw, he mumbled one word over and over as he tried to get a grip on his emotions.

Refuge.

************

Sydney's home

The ringing phone penetrated his slumber, wakening him from deep sleep. Stretching out a hand, he fumbled with the phone before bringing it to his ear.

“Sydney.”

“I...Sydney.”

Immediately awake, Sydney sat straight up when he heard the broken voice of his prodigy.

“Jarod, are you all right?”

He could hear ragged breathing and tears that were swallowed as the words were uttered.

“Refuge.”

“Jarod, tell me where you are.”

“Sydney, I,” drawing another deeper breath, “I see things.”

The last word was spoken so soft that Sydney almost didn't hear it. Pulling a hand through his tousled hair, his worry increased.

“What do mean, Jarod?”

“I played one of the DSA's when I was a child. I...the memory must have sparked something because...I...I saw something in my room.”

“What did you see?”

“A specter...a ghost. I don't know. Sydney, can a memory be as powerful as to bring it to life?”

Sydney felt a small sliver of relief. Jarod's voice was gaining in strength. Something must have happened that scared Jarod and he wanted to help badly. He needed to have Broots find the meaning of the word in context of the Centre. It might have been a project that Raines had worked on that Jarod was now remembering.

“Memories can be powerful, Jarod. It can move people and create wonders but it can also destroy.”

He own thoughts strayed to his and Jacob's experiences in the concentration camps. He sat with the phone pressed to his ear, hearing the other breathe. They listened to each other's thoughts, bringing comfort to each of their souls for that brief period before they hung up.

TBC

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