he nods happily. “Daddy, are the fireworks coming on soon?”
“Any second they will,” he says. “I'll be back in a minute, okay?”
“Yeah,” Conor nods again.
Sean gets up from the blanket and begins walking towards their cottage. But first, he leans down and pecks his wife on the forehead as he passes, whispering in her ear, “I hope he's not up all night. I've got plans for us later.”
Isabella grins mischievously and replies, “You're a bad boy, O'Connell. Hurry back, okay?”
“I will.”
As Sean makes his way towards the cottage, he says some polite “hellos” to several people and waves to a few others. He is about to start jogging when he sees him and suddenly stops.
It is like Sean sensed him before he actually laid eyes on him. Sean peers down the sidewalk to the old man seated in a wheelchair. The man seems fragile and vulnerable, a once able-bodied man whose muscles have slackened and become flaccid. The man appears weak in every area of his body save one: his eyes.
The man's eyes tell a much different story, a story that betrays the man's physical appearance. This story depicts a man still strong as a lion, cunning as a fox, and sharp as a razor. The man's eyes scan the beach like a predator sizing up his prey. Finally, the man settles his gaze on Sean, who feels a tingle up his spine.
Jesus, Sean thinks, I thought that only happened in books.
Sean instantly recognizes the man from the limited number of photos he has seen of him, albeit when he was a younger man: R. Jonas Abraham.
Sometimes there are men in life whose sheer mystery evokes numerous stories and rumors to be circulated about them, whether true or not. From hired assassin to double agent, from war hero to traitor, from ambassador to Russia to atomic scientist, there is no shortage of speculation surrounding the old man. In some capacity or another, it is believed Abraham worked for the government at one time. Doing what is anyone's guess.
What is commonly known about the man is that he occasionally spends summer weekends in Tamawaca, does not have any guests or family, lives like a hermit, his health is rapidly deteriorating, and he is sitting on top of a fortune. Of course, rumors are also rampant in regards to how Abraham acquired his vast wealth.
Sean holds the man's stare for several seconds before finally turning away.
Within a minute, Sean arrives at his cottage. He opens the front gate of the porch, takes a few long strides, swings open the screen door, and enters. He heads directly to the fridge and grabs a couple of beers and a caffeine-free pop. Sean then moves towards the pantry to bring down a couple snacks for Conor.
He suddenly hears pop, pop, pop, which signals the beginning of the show.
Then he hears something quite unusual. It is like an airplane flying overhead, but an engine noise he has never heard before in his life. He pauses and listens for several seconds. He shuffles out of the pantry and slowly walks towards the screen door.
He opens the door and as he steps onto the porch, he is greeted by a sound louder than any possible firecracker. He feels a strange sensation course through his body, as if an unseen force has washed over him. This “shockwave” knocks the wind out of him and his feet suddenly leave the ground. He is tossed over the porch railing like a discarded piece of paper thrown into the wind. He lands on a soft patch of sand bordering the cottage, but this ancillary benefit does not concern Sean in the least because the force of whatever hit him snatches his consciousness before he even hits the ground.
* * *
Sean does not know how long he was unconscious. His first thought is he is paralyzed and will never walk again. He quickly dismisses this notion when he wiggles his toes and pulls his legs up. Sean momentarily thinks he hears the sound of running feet, but he may have imagined it. He slowly rises to his feet and his focus immediately turns to his family.
Are they okay? Are they safe? What the hell happened?
Sean hobbles as quickly as he can towards the beach. He does not hear or see any fireworks, so the show must have ended.
But where is everyone? Why are there not streams of people returning to their cottages? Why don't I hear people laughing or talking or…something?
There is only silence.
He arrives at the beach and stares, shocked, unable to comprehend the sight before him. There is not a soul to be found. The beach is deserted and all the people are…gone. Stranger still, the beach chairs, towels, blankets, coolers, and cabanas all remain, as if everyone suddenly got up and left.
In the next ten seconds, Sean hears two distinct sounds that take different periods of time to register in his mind. The first is the unmistakable sound of helicopter blades, a noise gradually growing louder.
He initially has trouble placing the second sound, but then he turns and looks down the sidewalk. He sees Abraham's overturned wheelchair, the wheels squeaking as they slowly turn in the wind.
THREE
Sean O'Connell has always possessed a rational streak despite the constant urge to distrust the “facts” as they are presented to the general public. He believes in conspiracies, this is true, but he also believes they do not happen everyday and especially at a time like this. His mind churns as he hears the approaching sound of a helicopter or possibly helicopters. He tries to focus and thoroughly examine the scene unfolding before him.
Sean is, as it appears, alone on a beach, where only several minutes (right?) before there were close to a hundred people—laughing, playing, enjoying the holiday weekend.
And now…no one. Not a goddamn soul.
What happened to my family? Where have they gone? Are they…
He does not feel it necessary to complete the thought, one that would assuredly bring undue pain and anguish.
Sean considers his options, but his mind is like putty, a useless mass unable to function correctly. The light from “Big Red” continues to forlornly scan an empty beach and a quiet lake. Beyond the gigantic lighthouse, Sean hears the approaching helicopters, meaning more than one.
A rescue party? But who here needs to be rescued? And from what?
Suddenly, the helicopters appear from behind the lighthouse. He spots four, possibly five choppers, in a single file fast approaching the beach. His first emotion is relief at the sight of other human beings, thankful for the moment he is not the only person left on the face of the earth. His relief quickly dissipates and turns to dread when the choppers begin dropping objects from their hulls as they coast over the beach.
The first impact lights up the night sky and snatches the breath from his lungs when it connects with the beach. His legs become rubbery and he starts to run as fast as he can away from the falling bombs. A second, third, and fourth one strike the beach, one after the other, creating huge craters and sending massive amounts of sand jettisoning into the air.
Sean is at a full sprint now as their spotlights comb the beach. The spotlights bounce off the beach and
