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The Only Human Page 3
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There were lines of people, some draped in blankets, some gripping hastily-packed suitcases, or cradling a cat or a dog, as they were directed to board an empty city bus.
Ty and Ella squeezed by the barricade and joined the lines just as an old woman stopped to look back at the fire engulfing her building.
“My friend Alice is still in Four B!”
“Keep moving!” a police officer said. “Fire crews will find her and put her on the next bus to a shelter!”
“Where are you taking us?”
“The community hall on Columbus. Now get going! Move it, lady!”
Wow, that cop was harsh. These people were traumatized, they’d just lost everything. He could’ve shown a little compassion, Ty thought as he stepped onto the bus with Ella.
It was loading fast. They’d only have minutes to ask questions and get off before it pulled away. They found a spot near the front where they took stock of the frightened people already seated. Some had soot-smudged faces, some were crying, or comforting others.
“Excuse me,” Ty said to the old man next to him, “we’re looking for anyone who lives near Professor Blair?”
“Bertram Blair?”
“Yes.”
“He lives below me, alone in Eleven C. I haven’t seen him,” the man coughed. “Try Agnes Crane, she’s next door to him in Eleven D.” The man nodded to a woman with white hair at the back of the bus.
“Thanks.”
Ty and Ella went to her. She was wearing glasses and a sweater draped over her shoulders. She was hugging a photo album and staring through the window, the flames reflected on the glass.
“Excuse us,” Ella said, “but do you live near Professor Blair?”
Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she turned to them and nodded.
“I’m sorry, I know this is a bad time,” Ty said. “But do you know what happened to him today?”
“Yes, it’s awful. So many terrible things today. I saw the TV news about Bertram.” Agnes Crane’s eyes brightened a little. “Are you children related to him?” She asked. “I didn’t think he had any family.”
“No, we only met him today, just before the accident.”
“He was such a kind, gentle man.”
“We need to find out more about his research,” Ty said. “It’s important and we’re hoping you might know something more about it.”
“For a school project?”
“Something like that,” Ty said.
“Well, I would type some of his papers for him on his computer. I used to be a secretary. He was working on the history of the city’s buildings. He loved New York.”
“Where are his papers?” Ella asked.
Agnes Crane nodded to the burning building.
“Gone, they’re all gone.” She covered her face with her hands and cried a little. “I guess Bertram’s predictions are coming true.”
Ty exchanged glances with Ella.
“What predictions?” he asked.
“He said bad times were coming,” Agnes Crane said, “and it’s funny but I guess he was right. First,” she struggled with her words. “First he’s killed, and now this terrible fire, which has destroyed his work and our homes. I don’t understand any of it. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. Do you know what he was talking about when he said bad times are coming? Do you know what he was working on?”
“It was something about the history of the buildings. I never really understood it. He was a professor, he was very knowledgeable. He was always studying, or off researching. About a month ago he said he’d made a very disturbing discovery, something he needed to stop.”
“Did he call it ‘the awakening’?”
“He never told me what it was. He said that keeping details from me would protect me.”
Ty looked around then reached into his backpack and took out Professor Blair’s satchel.
“Before he was killed, he gave this to me.”
The old woman’s eyes softened as she ran her fingers tenderly over the worn leather and remembered her friend. Ty gave her the notebook.
“Do you know what his notes mean?” Ty asked.
She nearly smiled as she flipped through it, stopping at pages to read a passage or look at a sketch then she shook her head.
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” she said. “I often saw him with this notebook. These past few days he was never without it, but he seemed to be growing deeply troubled about what he’d discovered.”
“What do you mean?”
“He would say things like ‘they’re everywhere,’ or ‘they’re watching us.’ Sometimes it would be: ‘We see but we don’t see’.”
“Can you remember anything else?”
“He thought that ‘they,’ whoever ‘they,’ were, would try to silence him. To tell you the truth, I was afraid that he’d become paranoid, that maybe old age was taking a toll. He seemed to be under a lot of stress and I feared it was clouding his thinking.”
Ty removed the box holding the goggles and showed them to Agnes Crane.
“He gave me these old goggles.”
“Oh my,” she touched them. “Yes, he made those. I saw them on his desk.”
“Did he tell you what they’re for?”
“No.”
“He told me that they would help me see the truth. Do you know what that means?”
“I’m afraid I don’t.” Agnes Crane looked at the blaze consuming her building as tears continued rolling down her face. “But the truth is something we search for all our lives, and with God’s help we’ll find it one day.”
“Put them on, Ty,” Ella said.
“Now? Why?”
“I don’t know, just a feeling. Put them on.”
Ty slipped them over his eyes and secured the strap. He looked around, everything was tinted light blue. Then he started clicking the aperture and the color and focus changed. At that moment the motor started and the bus began vibrating.
“Oh no,” Ella said, “Ty we should get off. I need to get home. Thank you Mrs. Crane. We hope everything’s going to be okay for you.”
The old woman attempted a smile.
Ty was still testing the aperture and looking around at the effects as he kept clicking it. Then he looked through the bus window at the burning building and he froze.
A hideous dragon bird, the size of a large man, its reptilian wings flapping, turned its snake-like neck and demon’s head toward Ty. The beast’s vile eyes were glowing with hatred and its ferocious jaws were snapping as it flew triumphantly over the smoke and flames before disappearing into the darkness.
“Oh my God!”
Ty yanked the goggles off and turned to Ella, pointing at the building.
“Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“That thing? That monster!”
“No, I didn’t see anything. Come on!”
“How could you miss it?”
“Ty, come on!” She grabbed his arm. “We have to get off this bus now!”
Ella dragged Ty to the front of the bus just as the driver closed the doors, trapping them.
“We need to get off!” Ella pushed the door.
“Sit down!” the driver put the bus in gear.
“We don’t need to go to a shelter,” Ella said. “Let us off this bus now or I’ll call my father in the mayor’s office!”
The driver gritted his jagged teeth and cursed under his breath. The door opened, Ty and Ella stepped off.
“Come on. I have to get home.”
As they trotted to the subway station Ty kept an eye to the sky.
“Something really weird’s going on,” Ella said.
“That’s for sure.” Ty stopped, put on the goggles and scanned the night sky, clicking the aperture. “Either I saw some kind of special effect through these glasses, or I saw something too horrible to believe.”
“Not that. I mean, the cops, and the driver, were so brutally rude to people during the fire.
<
br /> “Oh my God, there it is again!”
A few blocks north, rising from the street, was the massive Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine. Ty had found an aperture that had transformed the goggles into high-powered binoculars.
He saw a dragon-shaped creature the size of a man wriggling lizard-like up one of the church’s great towers.
“Look Ella! There’s some sort of demon thing on the church!”
Ty pointed but Ella saw nothing.
“Try looking through the goggles!”
Ella did but saw nothing. Then Ty put the goggles back on and locked onto the church again.
“It’s still there!”
Ty watched the being crawl quickly out of sight around the tower.
“Ty, we have to get home now!” Ella said.
They ran to the subway station. On the train, Ty’s face was white as he stared at the goggles in his hands.
“I swear, Ella, when I put these on and adjusted them, I saw things.”
“I believe you.” She started texting her dad. “I’m so dead for being late.”
“Ella, did you hear me? I’m telling you these glasses are some kind of portal to horrible things!”
“I heard you, Ty. It’s been a horrible day and I’m afraid. Nothing makes sense. We need to get home, get to sleep then talk tomorrow at school about what we should do next.”
7
The next morning in school, Ty couldn’t escape the memory of the grotesque images he’d glimpsed the previous night.
Darn, I should’ve taken a picture with my phone. Where’s my brain?
The start of his first class, math, found him at his desk sketching the monstrosities he’d seen while struggling to understand what was happening.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Ty was aware of the school’s policy on phones but he and Ella needed to stay connected. He’d expected this was a text from her.
It was his mom.
What did she want?
He’d gotten home last night before she did. They’d had breakfast this morning like normal, except he never said a word about Professor Blair, the accident, the satchel, the fire, and the freaking flying demon or the thing crawling up the church. He wanted to keep that to himself while he and Ella worked on finding answers, but now his stomach twisted as he read his mother’s text.
“2 detectives at our apart want to talk to you now about a man killed running from your bus! Why didn’t you tell me, Tyler? Come home now!”
This was bad. Ty was trying to think when his teacher, Mrs. Neville, who was standing at the front of the class, said “Tyler?”
He looked up.
“Yes?”
“Your math homework? Are you going to hand it in with the others?”
“Um …” Ty felt all eyes in the room on him.
“Do you have your phone? Are you texting, Tyler?”
“No ma’am.”
“Did you complete your assignment?”
“Yes,” he lied. “I forgot it in my locker, may I go get it?”
Mrs. Neville folded her arms the way she did when she was angry. “You have two minutes, Mr. Price.”
As Ty rushed down the hall, he texted Ella to meet him at his locker. When he got there, he checked on his backpack and opened the satchel to ensure nothing was missing. The box with the goggles and the notebook were still there.
Good.
“What’s going on?” Ella arrived out of breath, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “I thought we were going to talk at lunch.”
“Police are at my mom’s place right now asking questions about Professor Blair! She wants me to come home now!”
“So what’re you going to do?” She indicated the satchel. “They’ll take that from you. What should we do?”
“I don’t know.”
Ty’s phone vibrated with another text from his mother.
“Incredible! Police arresting ME! Don’t know what grounds! Taking me away to precinct! CALL DAD!”
Ty showed the text to Ella.
“Oh my God! Ty this is getting so bad!”
At that moment the Assistant Principal, Richard King, came around the far corner with two men in suits. Using his locker door as a shield, Ty and Ella turned and practically stuck their heads into it.
“This way, detectives, our schedule shows that Tyler Price should be with Valerie Neville’s math class. Hey!” King spotted Ty and Ella from the far end of the hall. “Is that you Tyler? Why aren’t you two in class?”
“Hold it right there!” One of the detectives shouted.
In a heartbeat, Ella reached for the fire alarm on the wall and pulled it, triggering ear-splitting ringing. Within seconds the hall overflowed with students streaming from classrooms.
In the confusion, Ty and Ella ran from the detectives.
Once outside they slipped away from the assembled students and quietly hurried off down the street, entering buildings and exiting through other doors, criss-crossing the street, and changing directions before boarding a northbound bus and sitting at the back.
“My dad’s office is midtown on East Thirty-third Street,” Ty said. His hands were a bit shaky when he got his phone and pressed the number for his father’s office.
“This is Phillip Price. I’m not able to take your call right now. Please leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. Thanks.”
“Dad!” Ty blurted at the beep. “Something serious is happening with mom and the police! I need to see you! Call me!”
Ty tried texting his dad, then called the number for his dad’s assistant.
“Good morning, Vinandy-Nystrom Architects, Phillip Price’s office.”
“Margery, its Ty. I need to talk to my dad!”
“Hey kiddo, he’s in a meeting right now.”
“It’s serious. Could you get him?”
“Well, I think it’s a fairly important meeting. The people look intense –”
“Please, Margery, it’s an emergency!”
“Okay. Stay on the line, I’ll go check.”
Ty kept his phone to his ear as thirty seconds passed, then a minute, and a few city blocks rolled by without Margery coming back. Thinking he’d lost the connection, Ty tried calling her back without success. Then he tried his dad’s phone, then his dad’s cell phone, but his attempts were in vain.
“This is not good, Ella.”
The offices of Vinandy-Nystrom Architects were in a skyscraper not far from the Empire State Building.
Ty’s father had arranged for Ty to have a building pass and he showed it to the guards at the desk. They allowed Ty and Ella to enter. They walked across the polished stone lobby and took the elevator to the 24th floor.
The office area was behind double glass doors. It had thick carpet, white leather sofas and a chrome table, to the side of the polished oak reception desk.
No one was there.
Ty and Ella went down the hall to Margery’s desk, which led to Ty’s dad’s office. A few people were out front huddled in an anxious discussion.
“… arrested? Phil Price was arrested?”
“Just now, two detectives took him away in handcuffs, something about somebody getting killed yesterday.”
As Ty and Ella neared them the conversation stopped cold. A tall white-haired man in the group, then the others, saw Ty and Ella. Ty recognized the man as Lars Nystrom, his dad’s big boss who owned part of the company.
“Tyler. I’m very sorry, but we’re all in a bit of shock,” Nystrom said. “Two detectives have just arrested your father. We understand it has something to do with a man’s death yesterday and property stolen from the scene.”
Nystrom’s gaze flitted to Ty’s backpack then to Ty.
“And that you were there.”
Ty swallowed hard without speaking.
“We’re all deeply concerned,” Nystrom said. “If you know anything about the matter, we could go into my office now and call the police. I’m sure it’s all a misun
derstanding that can be cleared up quickly.”
Margery was holding crumpled tissue to her face. Others near her looked worried. Nystrom took a step toward Ty, who instinctively stepped back while tightening his hold on the strap of his backpack.
Professor Blair’s words of caution about the satchel blared through his mind. “Whatever happens, whatever anyone says, do not let them take it from you! You need everything inside for what you have to do!” They were followed by the words of the professor’s friend at the fire, Agnes Crane: “Bertram’s predictions are coming true.”
Ty started shaking his head and backing up with Ella.
“No, no,” he said. “I’m sorry but I have to go!”
Before anyone could stop them, Ty and Ella turned and left.
8
“My mom and dad arrested!”
Stunned by the morning’s events, Ty was holding the goggles in his hands and staring at them while images of the grotesque figures he’d seen at the fire flashed in his mind.
“This whole thing is just crazy.”
He and Ella had fled his father’s office, and took refuge in a McDonalds on Fifth Avenue. Ty called and texted his parents’ phones about fifty times, but he got no response. It was useless.
Ella was again paging through Professor Blair’s notebook, desperately trying to decipher the meaning of his cryptic comments. Ty sat across from her, turning the goggles over in his hands, overcome with fear and doubt.
“I should give everything to police, Ella.”
“No.”
“How else can I get my parents out of jail?”
“I don’t know, but you can’t give up now!” She continued searching the pages for answers.
“But my parents – it’s my fault that they got arrested.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“They’re in jail Ella, it changes everything.”
She paused from scouring the notebook.
“Ty, I don’t think the people who arrested them are real police.”
“What?”
“It’s a feeling I have. I don’t know about cop stuff, but I just don’t think real police act this way. Your parents have nothing to do with any of this. I think that whoever arrested them did it to get to you and get the satchel, to weaken you by getting you to react this way.”