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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1730603-Is-it-all-over
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1730603
Jack Reacher; 10-years-old; kidnapped. It might be meaningless, but he prayed.
Jack Reacher currently resides in Georgia with his parents and studies at the nearby school. If anyone were to ask about him, they would say he's your average Joe: friendly, hardworking, always smiling no matter what the situation. Many might think: this child, he must have a wonderful family, awesome friends, wondrous childhood and sweet dreams. Yes, he has a loving family, but too loving; caring friends, but too caring. Plus, the wonders of his childhood were robbed halfway through, and every time he would lay in bed hoping he wouldn't drown in the nightmares that were to come.

All these events took place about five years ago, a time when he was in the learning stages. Just like any other normal 10 year old's, he was learning how to ride a bike, how to tie his school shoes. His favorite sport was soccer. He would always stay back after school to play with his friends, and he was quite a good player. Always scoring when the team was in jeopardy, he got the nickname "Jack the Savior". Though it sounded funny to his friends, he was proud of said title. Sometimes, his dad would tag along during his free time to cheer for his son during small friendly matches. When they won, his dad would lift him up into the air and twirl him round and round with a goofy grin of his face, which send a clear message to anyone who saw it: I love my son.

His dad was an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department. Due to this, he was rarely home. Always out pursuing a case, putting bad guys behind bars, and coming home getting a tight hug from Jack and a lecture from his wife. But deep down, he knew his mom was proud of his dad, although she was always worried about his safety, as he was too. When dad was on leave, he would take the opportunity to bring the family on outings, if not, telling cases/stories to his little boy.

Jack has always been fascinated by the way those justice-seeking officers serve and protect innocent civilians from crime-committing criminals. Therefore, whenever dad starts telling, he'll be all ears. Jack remembers how Officer Reacher starts his stories: name of the Bad Man, their victims, and what evidence that led them to catch the Bad Man, other than their own clumsiness. As a bonus, he teaches Jack ways to outsmart a criminal, earning Jack some skillful knowledge.

But all good things always comes to an end.

As usual, he was walking home after soccer practice. Due to his curfew - his mom was quite a control 'woman', always assuming the inevitable - he always left around 3PM. Jack would always slow pace home, preferring to admire the beauty around him which will eventually lead him home. That day, however, he quickened his pace. He felt like he was being followed. He might be 10, but his dad always reminded him to check his surroundings. So, he turned, prepared to catch a lurking friend about to scare him half to death. But there was no one behind. Turning back, he resumed walking. He stopped. Looked. No one. Jack was sure he heard heavy footsteps, not those skippy footsteps of a child's'. Panicking now, he ran without a backward glance. Immediately, he felt a large hand over his mouth. The last thing he remembered before he succumbed into unconsciousness was smelling something unpleasant.

The next thing he knew, he was in a dark room, surrounded by boys his age. He was blur at first, wondering where in Sesame Street he was, then a thought struck him. Boys his age disappearing one by one every few weeks. It was the kidnapper, the one the media dubbed the 'Father'. His dad told him about the case a few days ago. The 'Father' kidnaps boys between the ages of 8 and 12, feeds and grooms them before taking their lives. The profile said this behavior might have been due to the death of his son or a situation that separated both father and son. It seems he dresses the boys and loves them like his own. But after quite some time, if they weren't what he expects out of a son, he garrotes them.

So far there were no witnesses, no evidences, no DNA, no suspects. By far, four boys were found with ligature marks on their necks. As almost everyday missing children reports are being filed, it was hard to know which child really got taken away. Out of the four boys he was with, he only recognized Jeremy Walls, who went missing five days ago while he was on his way to a friends' house for a sleepover. The other boys' names, he guessed, were still in the system, waiting to be identified.

Based on what his "roommates" said, the 'Father' never opens the door, only doing so when it was time to eat, drag another "lucky" kid out or dump another kid in. The kids that went out were always yelling, telling the man to let them go. After the door closes, the "inmates" would hear the sound of palm hitting cheek, and then the struggles stop. They were never sure what goes on beyond that door, for no boy has ever come back, or live to tell the tale.

In the blink of an eye, one and a half weeks passed, or so Jack thought, since there was not a single clock in the room, and his watch seemed to have died during the kidnap. Two new kids were dumped in as two were dragged out. During this time, Jack would make small talk with them, or they to him. Sharing their names, hobbies, anything to help keep them occupied, and in hope that help is on its way. Jack would also advice them to do as the kidnapper says, at the mean time, focus on the surroundings, for if they did managed to escape, they know just what to describe to the men in blues, as his dad always tells him. In the mean time they pray, hoping to God that he's up there listening and sending help.

Please, God, just please. He didn't really know what he was praying for, but he did so anyway, in hopes that his prayers would be heard. But, these takes time, and time is not what any of them have.

The second boy, Dougie Mack, has been at the other side for six days. Jack kept wondering what Father was doing to him during those time as there wasn't a sound to be heard. He assumed Dougie kept up the 'son' act long enough to satisfy the kidnapper. If not, he would be hearing Dougie's cry for help as the man did God-only-knows-what to him.

Apparently, that came later in time. His new friends' screams echoed through the house for a few minutes though to Jack and the boys it seemed like an eternity. And he knew it would not be an easy task to sleep tonight (it never was), since the screams he heard throughout his "stay" would be ringing in their ears.

Jack knew that after that, 'Father' would dump the body and go in search for another 'son'. And after a couple of hours, he would be meeting another new friend while the old friend gets dragged out to meet his doom.

Two days passed, or so it seemed, and it was Jeremy Wall's turn. As any other kid that went out involuntarily, he was dragged out without any resistance. Maybe he was recalling what Jack said about being obedient. Maybe... he has lost all hope and is willing to follow this mad man to live the last few days of his live as a well fed boy.

Another day passed, and all their prayers were answered.

It started with a kick to what Jack assumed to be the main door, followed by shouts of "Police!", "Put your hands behind your head! and "Let the boy go!". The last shout sent chills down Jacks spine. 'Father's holding Jeremy hostage, and like criminals that freak out when they've been caught, any sudden moves could get Jeremy killed.

Then, Jack heard the man's voice for the very first time since he'd been here. Deep and husky, he said, "I prayed; I hoped. But none of them were like Walter."

Suddenly, a loud "bang" sounded throughout the silence. Someone had fired. Sounds of body hitting the ground were followed by heavy footsteps scrambling to where the body had fallen. Later, Jack heard a soft "He's gone."

"Okay, Samson, first floor. Fisker, upstairs with me. Logan and Mason, check the outsides, there might be a door to some basement or secret room. Those boys gotta be here somewhere."

Footsteps could be heard, going from room to room and up the stairs. One of the boys immediately stood up, ran towards the door, and shouted, "In here! We're in here!" And little by little, Jack and the others joined in.

For a few seconds the house was quiet, only for the shouts of the boy. Suddenly, the footsteps were getting closer. "Boss, they downstairs!"

"Okay kids, get away from the door."

Crack. The sound of wood splinting as the door burst open. A few men came in. The first officer who appeared in front of Jack's eyes (and also the one who kicked the door), around mid-30's, kneeled in front of the boys and said the only thing that matters: "It's okay," he said, smiling softly, "You're safe now."

In that moment, Jack started crying. And in that moment, he knew that all his troubles were over.
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