The Twenty-First Post

Damn cold monrning to wake up in a car. I'm in a McDonald's defrosting, but on a morning this cold, I ask you about the genius of some of these places out there. I was driving down 91st passing the hospitals at Hwy 169, and much to my surprise, they have their sprinklers going in this 15 degree weather. It was creating ice patches on the street.

I suppose it's good for business.

Why was I waking in my car and not my cushy little hotel room in Bixby? The blasted Mist has contacts every-freakin-where, that's why. I'll bet when this organization was created, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, it's just mad with power is all. So desperate to keep themselves a big secret that they'll take out anyone who dares to let it out, which is why they want at me. I'm sure it completely pisses them off that they can't take down Google's blogger.

I have little doubt that once they get ahold of me, they'll torture me to get the password or make me delete it. I won't do it. Who knows? Maybe my refusal to delete it will keep me alive once they do get me...and they will. It's only a matter of time, and poor luck on my part.

I managed to escape capture before only by the skin of my teeth. With all eyes on me during this brief memorial, I had little choice but to say something. I stood up nervously and started to say something, but Mack stopped me and signaled to the podium, where he was.

"Oh please, sir, come up here. Someone who was so instrumental in her death must take center stage. After all, you stole her from us."

I had to try and set this straight. Yeah, abyssmally stupid, but I was dead set on setting this right. I walked to the podium and everyone allowed me to stand there. I suppose I wasn't going to say anything they didn't know already, but there I was, standing before a group of people, some of whom I recognized from a variety of shops around town. I wondered how many were true operatives, and how many simply were there because they knew Tara. I cleared my throat.

"I did not kill her," I began. "About a month ago, I had received an email from a former girlfriend who she let me know was an agent of this organization sent to watch me at that time. I don't know what I did to invite your scrutiny, but I learned that her job was the same as my former girlfriend. Whatever your rulers are, I can only guess that a romantic interest in a 'mark'" --I did finger quotes -- "is against these rules.

"She left the apartment for two days, and when she came back, she wasn't the same. I suppose she came to one of you and learned something that disturbed her so much that she killed herself over it. Yes, she killed herself."

Mack was shaking his head. "She would not have done that," he said, "she had too much going for her."

I glared at him. "Did you talk to her," I asked.

"As a matter of fact, I was the one to talk to her," he said. "I chastised her for getting involved. She should never have done it."

"What did you say," I demanded.

"None of your business," he said. "None of this was your place. You shouldn't even be here, but when we saw you sitting out on Hickory, we felt it would be necessary to lure you somewhere and see what you thought you knew."

I was shocked. Not only did they know I was watching, they were expecting me. This was a setup...and I fell right into it. So were these people actually with the organization? Probably. But it didn't matter. Mack stood up.

"Now, give me the charm she left for you," Mack said.

"No," I said, "it's all I have left."

"You don't know what you're getting into." I looked into Mack's eyes. There was a certain familiarity to them. I figured I'd seen him around town without knowing it. But behind the demand, there was a pain that I couldn't identify.

"You killed her, sir," I told him. "You told her something that sent her to her death. What was it?"

Mack shook his head. "That's classified. I can't tell you." I took a few steps back away from the podium. Mack stepped up. "You can't escape."

I looked around. He was right. This room was closed off except for the entrance. No windows. No back door. No other hallway. Nothing. "What do you want from me," I asked.

"Just the charm," he said, "give that to me, and you're free."

"Why have you all been watching me," I asked.

Mack shook his head again. "That's not for you to know," he said and held out his hand. "Now, the charm."

Of course, I wasn't going to let this go, but I also wasn't going get anything out of him today. I took the Rubik's Cube charm out of my pocket and looked at it. Clearly, it held some measure of importance to him. I handed it over. He took it gently from me and put it in his pocket.

"You're free to go," he said.

I looked and the path to the door was open. All eyes were on me, and the room was free of movement. I walked slowly through the seated crowd to the exit. With a glance behind me, the door guard who was in on the ruse ushered me out and closed the door behind me.

I stood on the street in downtown Broken Arrow looking up at the second floor room where I had just come from wondering what to do next. Since I knew what Mack looked like now, and that he was the one to talk to her, I thought I had something significant to go on. All I had to do was get out of their scrutiny and follow him to wherever I could get at him.

He was one hard guy to get on his own. I did manage to watch him several times over the next couple of months, but every time I either had someone on my tail or he disappeared. But it was nature that gave me my opportunity. On the evening of December 9th, 2007, the power in Broken Arrow and many other parts of Oklahoma went out.

While it cannot be said that chaos ensued, it created quite a problem for The Mist's intricate network of informants. Such a problem that after a few days, the batteries wore out, and I was free to move without being noticed. I guess a lot of them didn't have generators either.

I can't stay here for long. I'm almost warmed up enough to move on. I pulled the charm out just a moment ago and looked at it. It symbolizes so much for me now that I never would have guessed eight months ago. Yes, I have it now. It's all I have left of her.

I'm starting to get a little paranoid. Time to find a new place to warm up.