Authors Marketing Cooperative

Sequel to Distant Ties

Excerpt

                Diane entered her quarters, exhausted, but happy.  Every Sentient Snake egg had hatched and all looked healthy and strong.  She could hardly wait for the Saurid eggs to hatch.  Walking through the living room, Diane noticed the little indicator on her computer glowing like a beacon in the otherwise dark room.

                "Lights," Diane called out.  "Half illumination."

                The apartment's computer responded and lit the room.  Walking to the PC, Diane hit the on button, then sat in the chair in front of it, resting back on the comfortable cushions.  She should have already networked her desktop computer with the apartment's so she could answer her messages by voice.  She also needed to activate her hand-held computer, but kept putting off both, preferring to devote her time instead to Poc Tec, Samot and the large clutch of eggs.  Plenty of time to fine-tune her equipment later.

                As the PC's screen came to life, Diane placed her finger on the touch pad, too tired to bother putting on the eye-mouse set.  Sliding a finger, she directed the cursor to the Answer Mail icon.  Activating it with her thumb, the list of messages appeared.  Most of the list read black, low priority.  She had a couple of yellows, higher priority but not pressing.  One red glared at Diane.  She'd never received an extremely urgent message before.

                Leaning closer, Diane looked at the e-mail address.  She didn't recognize it.  TH_1670@boulderccomp.pia.  Diane highlighted the message then clicked on the address info icon.  Diane's gut tightened when she read the name.  Tracy Hanning.  It was her sister.  Diane frowned and her fist clenched.  She directed the cursor toward the Message Delete icon.  Tracy was in trouble again, only this time she must be desperate.  She'd never called Diane for help before.  Probably needs money for J-juice.

                Diane stopped herself from deleting the message.  Not only had Tracy contacted her for the first time since she'd run off with that drug dealer, but she'd done so through her own e-mail address, not the drug dealer's, but her own.  Last thing Diane heard about Tracy was that she ended up on the streets of L.A.  Could her sister have cleaned herself up, got a job and a place to live?

                Diane moved the cursor to the read icon.  The computer asked for an encryption code.  Diane frowned.  Bloody games!  Tracy sent her a message just to play bloody games with her.  A nagging voice in the back of Diane's mind told her to delete the message.  Just wipe it and be done with her!  Tracy made mother's last few years of life a living hell.  You don't owe her anything!

                Diane sat and stared at the screen.  After minutes, Diane moved her fingers over the keyboard and typed in her father's name: Jack.  The computer chimed.  Incorrect encryption code.  Diane tried her mother's name, Mary.  Same results.  Charles, their old dog, produced nothing.  With a sigh, Diane was just about to give up when she thought of a different approach.  She tried Poc Tec, then Samot, then aliens.  Nothing.  When she tried Sentients, the computer cleared the Encryption Code screen.

                Diane felt the anger flow within her.  Tracy had discovered her involvement with the Sentients and wanted to cash in on it.  How much lower could her low-life sister stoop?

                Instead of a text message, the computer displayed a video.  On the screen, a silhouette of a man looked at the camera, all facial details lost in darkness.  The voice that emanated from the speakers sounded artificial, electronically altered.  "Dr. Hanning.  We have your sister.  If you want to see her alive, you will do exactly what I say."

                Diane's stomach knotted.  This can't be happening.  This can't be real.  Has to be a joke.

                "Just so you believe what I say, watch."  With a wave of his arm, the mysterious man pointed off to the left side of the screen.  The camera turned and brought into view a naked woman tied to the wall, spread eagle.  The camera zoomed in on the face.

                Diane gasped.  "Tracy."  Heart pounding in her chest, Diane's stomach erupted into turmoil.

                Tracy's eyes squinted into the light, tears flowing down her cheeks.  "Diane, I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry."  Her words turned to sobs.

                "Dr. Hanning," the ominous voice continued from off screen, "I want you to fully understand the severity of this situation."

                The camera pulled back, showing Tracy from the waist up.  Tracy's gaze turned to the side and her expression revealed absolute terror.  "Oh, God.  No.  No."  Her pleas increased in intensity, "No, no."  Tracy screamed as a hand came into view, holding a long, gleaming knife.

                Diane's eyes widened, and she thrust her face closer to the screen.  "Oh dear Lord, no.  Don't let this happen!"

                Tracy continued to scream as the knife slowly circled each breast in a figure eight motion, the sharp point skimming the surface of her skin.  After two long, torturous laps, the knife moved up under Tracy's jaw, pointing straight at her throat.  The screaming ceased, her sister’s eyes clenched tight as vises.  Diane could see Tracy quivering in fear, while her own breath momentarily caught in her throat.

                "No," Diane managed to scream at the recording.  "Stop it you bloody bastards!  Stop it!"

After several beats, the knife moved downward once again.  The deadly point grazing the skin as it went.  When the tip reach the point between the breasts, it streaked downward in an instant, leaving a trail of blood down the breastbone.  Tracy shrieked in pain, then her screams faded to crying in the background.  The camera turned and brought the silhouette man back into view, holding the knife up in the air for Diane to see.  "That was just a little flesh wound.  Believe me when I say we can do far worse."

                "You son of a bitch!" Diane's voice broke.

                "You will bring to us three Sentient gravity generators.  You have three weeks to do this.  We will send you the directions on how to get them to us then.  If you fail, or if you bring in the authorities, your sister will be cut up into little pieces.  I hope you understand, for her sake.  Three weeks to get three Sentient gravity generators."

                The screen went black.  Diane continued to stare at the blank message screen, her body trembling.  In a wave of horrified emotions, Diane Hanning cried uncontrollably.

Contact Project Coordinator - Contact Project Webmaster

© Copyright 2000 Datajunkie