Chapter 5

"I'm Benita."

"What?"

Benita pressed the plastic receiver tightly against her ear, her eyes darting toward the diner's foggy front windows. "I've lost my memories. I'm lost somewhere. This was the only number I could remember."

"Oh my God. Baby, slow down. Where are you right now?"

"I don't really... Sir, please, what's this address?" She repeated what the man said. "Did you get that?"

"Yes. Are you safe right now?"

"I don't think so. Someone tried taking me at the hospital." She pulled out the photocard from her pocket. "He said he was my husband, Eliav but there was something off about him."

"Trust your gut. If someone can't provide enough evidence to earn your trust, don't follow them."

"Alright."

"This is our home line but let me give other numbers you can communicate with."

"Okay." She asked for a notepad and pen. The couple provided them. She cover the mouthpiece with her palm. "Thank you so much," she whispered.

"These numbers are my personal one and your husband's, Eliav's. He's looking for you already but I'll still send someone just to be sure. If they're from me, they'll say 'star-apples are not apples'."

Benita managed a faint smile. "Alright. Got it. Thank you... mum."

"Be safe, baby."

Benita clicked the receiver down and drew a ragged breath. She tore the note in half, folding one piece with her mother's number into the lining of her shoe and slipping the other with her husband's into her front pocket.

She stared at the scrap of paper containing Eliav's digits, debating whether to use it.

Benita dialled the number.

The call forwarded to Karama. "Hello?"

Benita frowned, lowering the device to stare at the glowing screen as her thumb wavered over the disconnect button.

"Benita? Benita, it's Karama. I work for your husband, Eliav. Is that you?"

Benita brought the receiver back to her mouth. "Yes. Where is he?"

"I'll forward you to him now. Please, hold on. Don't end this call."

Benita waited, her thumb tracing the glossy edges of the photocard.

*"How fahhhhh?"*

A sudden laugh escaped her lips at the echo of that voice, the fog in her mind parting for a brief fraction of a second. "Oma... this really is Omari."

Eliav's voice cut through the static on the line. "Hello?"

Benita's breath hitched. "Hi! Eliav?"

"Benny? Baby, where are you?"

"I'm at a restaurant." Her eyes swept over the diner's menu boards, trying to recall the name. "It's um—"

Outside the glass, headlights caught the silhouettes of Hez, Langa, and their guard pushing through the doors of the storefront across the street.

"Oh no, they're coming. I have to go."

"Who?" Eliav asked.

Karama rejoined the call. "Don't hang up. Just drop the phone, if you're leaving. I'm still on your location."

"Benny, listen, be careful. I'll find you. I swear."

"I trust you." She set the receiver down on the counter, leaving the line live, and spun toward the owners. "One last request. Please, where's the back door? Those guys are bad and they're looking for me."

The woman grabbed her hand and hurried her toward the kitchen.

The front door opened and the three men walked in, and the old man stepped up to intercept them. "How may I help you?"

Langa stepped forward, flashing a tarnished badge. "I'm a police officer. I was informed a patient escaped from the hospital. We're trying to bring her back. This is her doctor." He flicked his chin toward Hez.

"Good evening, sir. I'm Doctor Adams." Hez extended a hand.

The old man stared down at the hand, then looked up into Hez’s eyes, unblinking.

Hez cleared his throat and continued. "This patient is from the psychiatric ward. She's in a terrible mental state. She might go around telling people we're bad men." He paused. The old man's frown had softened. "She doesn't understand we're just trying to help. Please, if you know where she is. She's a danger to herself and others. Please."

The old man's defensive posture completely relaxed as his eyes travelled over the three men. "Yeah. We saw her."

~•~

The plastic zip-ties bit into the siblings' wrists like hot wire. Abby’s eyelids were heavy, while Chams desperately needed a bathroom break.

BANG!

"What was that?" One of the watchmen asked.

The other watchman shrugged. He marched to the closed end and slid the lid of the partition window, peering through.

BANG!

The guard fell backward, his skull cracking against the floor. A dark, sticky stream of red pooled from his ruined eye.

Abby and Chams kicked and slid against the floor, dragging their bound bodies together into the corner.

"Oh sh!t." The remaining guard's voice shook. "Who's out there?"

Silence flooded the van's steel cabin, broken only by three ragged breaths.

The rear latch clicked, and the back doors burst outward.

BANG!

The guard gasped, his pistol clattering to the floor as a bullet tore through his bicep and slammed him against the metal paneling.

A tall darkly clad man vaulted into the van.

Bleeding and desperate, the guard lunged for his dropped weapon and fired a blind shot.

The bullet smacked directly into the intruder’s sternum, forcing him back a step with a sharp intake of air.

BANG!

The final guard dropped like a stone, a fresh crimson hole drilled cleanly through his right temple.

A warm pistol barrel poked through the partition window. "How's this for a glory hole?" The dark eye tilting downward and then upward. A low chuckle echoed from the front seat.

The siblings exchanged a look.

His partner didn't share in his obscene humour. He had his own issues. "F*ck, he shot me."

"But you're wearing a flak jacket. Why you bitchin'?" The passenger-side door slammed, and heavy footsteps rounded the chassis until a fresh face appeared at the open rear doors.

"It still stings though."

"That's why you should always shoot them in the head." The front seat shooter tapped the muzzle of his gun against his own forehead.

Chams lifted her chin, squinting through the dim light to make out his features.

The wounded shooter grunted, rubbing his ribs. "Dare asked us to keep one for questioning. Now they're both dead."

"Oh yeah... oops. Acceptable casualty." He shrugged. His partner let out a disgusted snort. "Besides, we have these two."

"Oma, these are clearly hostages."

"That's what the government wants you to think." He grinned, his eyes sliding down to fix on the shivering siblings. "Now, which one of you is Chams?"