Shop And Shout
an excerpt

Charlie kept his eyes on the ground as he walked the few blocks back to his apartment, or so it seemed. In reality, he was watching everything and everyone around him through his peripheral vision. It was early November, and it was starting to get cold. People were going to get increasingly desperate, and you could never be too careful. It was something that he was hardly even aware of doing anymore. It had become instinct - a part of who he was as brushing his teeth or his preference for Vietnamese over Japanese food. It was just something that he’d learned.

He noticed it now, however. He made sure he was doing it. He actively watched everything around him, making sure that that old man really was an old man. That Jane at the store had startled him. She’d reminded him that he didn’t have that much time left in his life. No one did, really... but he had far too much left to do before he could die.

He arrived at his apartment safe, without incident. Keeping his eyes open, and remaining aware of what was going on around him, he unlocked the front door, double checking that no one was behind him. Opening doors left one vulnerable. You generally had to face the door, and you had to remain focused on it for a second. That second was all that an opportune person might need. To seize the second. To seize his life from him.

The door opened, and he very quickly entered the building and bounded up the single flight of stairs. He unlocked and opened the door to his small bachelor suite, with slightly less caution this time. He chided himself for that - just because one was at home did not mean that one was safe. He had made that mistake before, and it was not one that he intended on making again.

Locking the door behind him (deadbolt, door handle, and two other latch locks that he had installed himself ten minutes after moving in), he quickly stepped to his desk. He turned on his computer - an ancient affair, but serviceable for what he needed, and at the same time checked his voicemail. No messages. The computer finished booting up (H had time to pour himself a scotch and water. The second thing he did, after installing the locks, was to stock up a liquor cabinet.) and he quickly opened the internet browser and checked his email. He had three accounts, each web based, untraceable. Theoretically untraceable, that was. There were ways to track almost everything. He wasn’t a computer person, though. He knew how to use them, sure, but for anything fancy he always used to have friends he could call if necessary. He rarely had to, however, and he felt secure enough these days that he didn’t feel he needed the complex security backups he was used to.

He had just one e-mail in all three accounts. There was no subject, and he didn’t recognise the sender. He opened it up. Three words greeted him.

WE FOUND HER

His heart stopped. He read the words again. They didn’t lie. Could it have been sent to the wrong person? He didn’t think so. It didn’t look like spam. It wasn’t an advertisement, there were no attachments, no promises to increase the size of his penis or asking him for his banking information. Just those three words, capitalised. Clear, precise, unmistakable.

They found her.

Charlie nearly burst into tears. It had been six years. Six very long years. He didn’t, however. There were too many questions. Why were there no details. Why didn’t they say where they were, where they’d found her, or how. Just that they found her.

He paused. Could it be a trick? He didn’t think so. They had no idea of his plan, they couldn’t have. But what if they did? The implications were too much. Even so...

He picked up the phone, and quickly dialed a ten digit number. He made a mistake, the voice on the other end telling him that there was no such number. He tried again. The phone rang several times.

“The Customer You Are Calling Is Unavailable At This Time. Please Try Again Later,” the voice said.

“Damn,” Charlie replied, hanging up the receiver, “Where are they?”

He quickly checked his other two accounts. In his second, nothing. In the third, there was another message from the same sender. Twice as many words this time, none of them as hopeful as the last.

WE LOST HER DETAILS TO FOLLOW

Like it had stopped, his heart now sank. They’d lost her. They’d found her, then lost her, within just a few hours of each other. That meant they were found out. That meant that she was in danger. What if they...

He didn’t finish the thought. He left the computer on, went into the kitchen and poured himself another drink, this time minus the water.