'Uh-huh. Your head is bleeding. I'm really sorry. I'll get my dad.'
'Actually, could you just hold up a second first?' Apt said and then suddenly clocked him. The boy flew back and ricocheted off the deck railing before he fell flat on his face, out cold.
Apt glanced at the kid, then at the house, thinking.
He lifted the kid over his shoulder and went down the deck steps toward the alley and the street.
Chapter 101
When my cell phone woke me in the dark, I rolled off the bed and stumbled around before finally fishing it out of the pocket of my pants.
It was a 212 number, which meant Manhattan. I didn't recognize it.
I was still so dead to the world that when I tried to answer it, I actually hung it up instead.
I wiped my eyes as I yawned. No wonder I was out of it. Mary Catherine and I had gotten back pretty late from the concert. If that wasn't bad enough, MC, Seamus, and I had stayed up watching a hilarious eighties Brat Pack-era comedy called Heaven Help Us about a Catholic boys high school in 1960s Brooklyn. I shared many of the same sorts of friendships and screw-ups and absurdities at Regis, a Catholic boys school in Manhattan. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed that hard.
The phone rang again as I was getting back into the bed. I managed to actually answer it this time.
'Bennett.'
'It's three o'clock. Do you know where your children are?' a voice said.
That sat me straight the hell up.
'What?' I said.
'Dad?' Ricky said a moment later. 'Dad, I'm sorry.'
At the sound of Ricky's scared voice, I shot out of bed as if I'd been Tasered. A bunch of books and a radio flew off a shelf as I crashed my shoulder into it, blundering around in the dark.
Was this a dream? I thought, staring at the moonlit window in shock. No. It was a nightmare. I could hear the phone being taken from Ricky.
'Who the fuck is this?'
'You know who this is,' the voice said. 'And you know what you have to do. Lawrence taught me. Now I'm going to teach you.'
Apt!
'Carl,' I said. 'Please, Carl. I'll do anything you want. Don't hurt my son.'
'Come down to the beach due east of your house, Bennett. No cops, no gun. You have three minutes before I cut his throat. Three minutes before you'll be down on your knees, trying to get his blood out of the sand.'
'I'm coming, I'm coming!'
I dropped the phone, trying to think. What could I do? The son of a bitch sounded absolutely fucking insane, and he had Ricky. I pulled on my shorts, looked for a shirt, then stopped looking. There was no time.
'Mike? What is it? What's going on?' Mary Catherine called after me as I banged open the front door.
I decided I couldn't tell her. Apt had said just me. He sounded way too crazy to mess with.
'Nothing, Mary. Go back to bed,' I hissed.
'What do you mean nothing?' she said, coming out after me. 'It's three in the God-loving morning! Where are you going?'
I didn't need this shit. Not now. She started following me. I didn't have time to explain. How could I stop her?
'Do I have to say it? I'm going to meet Emily, okay? Are you happy now?'
Mary stopped dead-still on the porch steps. It killed me to hurt her like this, but I didn't have a choice.
'How could you?' she said very quietly as I started to run.
'Just get back in the house!' I yelled.
Chapter 102
Please, God, I said as I sprinted. Please, please, please, let my boy be okay.
Calm, calm. I can handle this, I thought, trying to relax myself as I huffed. I could talk to Apt. Get him to release Ricky. God had given me that gift, the power to talk to folks, to calm them down, especially people who were hurt in some way. People with sick minds.
I'd negotiate for Ricky whatever it was Apt wanted. It was what I did. I had no choice.
Tears in my eyes, my lungs on fire, I crossed over the concrete path of the boardwalk onto the dark sand. I spotted a quarter moon out over the water. On the horizon were red lights, tiny ship lights, so far away.
I was panicking, thinking I'd come to the wrong place. Then I spotted some movement by the lifeguard chair where Mary and I had made out.
Oh, my God! It was them. There was a man standing next to Ricky. He had a Mohawk and was wearing an army jacket and aviator sunglasses. Not only that, but he was holding a knife to Ricky's throat!
I couldn't really tell if it was Apt. He was just a crazy man. A crazy, evil man with my eleven-year-old son's life in his hands. Ricky was actually taped to the chair, I realized. Black electrical tape crisscrossed over his arms and legs, over his neck.
'I'm here,' I said, falling to my knees about twenty feet away. My whole body was covered in sweat. 'You win, Carl. Let's talk, okay?'
Apt cocked his head at me, his mouth tight and angry.
'Get up, Bennett! Get up, tough guy. Mr. Badass. Stand up like a man!' he said.
I slowly stood. 'We can work this out, Carl,' I said.
'Oh, we're gonna work this out, all right,' he said. 'What are you waiting for, Bennett? Come and get me!'
I stood there frozen.
That's when I noticed he had a baseball bat in his other hand. Ricky screamed as Apt turned and hit him in the back with it.
'You want me? Then come and get me!' he screamed.
I ran at him. It wasn't a conscious decision. Some force sent me hurtling forward through the darkness, my feet flying, my toes digging, kicking back sand. Both of my feet were off the ground when I dove at him. I don't think he expected me to reach him from so far away. I know I didn't. I saw shock in his face before I plowed into him as hard as I could, sending the bat flying.
Chapter 103
We both scrambled back up. I got up first and swung as hard as I could at his face. It was a good right. It felt the way it does when you've swung a golf club perfectly, two hundred yards pin straight down a fairway.
It would have probably ended things right then and there, but my swing was too high, and I heard my pinkie snap as I punched him in his thick-skulled forehead. I screamed as I hit him with my broken right hand again. I
