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You can tell my mind is fired up. While I’m uploading the videos, I’ll call Carl again. I must talk to him. He’ll give me the dirt on everything, including the missing people.
Shutting the front door, I don’t lock the deadbolt in case Denny returns. Accessing my gear bag again, I take out my coveted video card. I grab the other card out of my camera and make a beeline for my laptop on the island counter.
“Denny?” I call, half-heartedly to the still air as I pass the staircase. Wonder where he factors in today’s events. Did he leave when I was in the bathroom? Is this a joke to him? Did he see the airplane crash from the upstairs office window? Or is he in one of his pouts? Where did he go?
What would you do if you couldn’t figure out where your spouse was during a crisis, especially after you got into an argument and are no longer speaking? You probably think it’s weird that I’m not upstairs pounding on the door or entering his sacred space uninvited. Maybe it is weird, but I’m the type that stands my ground—I don’t cave, period. I’m rarely the first person to break the silence in a disagreement and reconcile. If he can hear all this chaos and can’t be bothered to take a moment to make sure I’m alright, then let him stew in his own juices. That’s my attitude, anyway. You may have a different opinion, but I’m the one in charge here. You’re only an observer in my brain; I’m not in yours.
And, by the way, we are not strangers to conjugal disputes. We’re like all normal couples. We have arguments, just like you do with someone you love. There is something seriously wrong with a relationship if there are no fights from time to time.
Take two years ago: We got into a clash over household chores since we both work and have little time for such nonsense. We each stated our cases, and I debated in a confrontational yet unattached, manner. Denny left without a murmur and without packing a bag—only to call my cell the next day acting as if nothing had happened. Never found out where he spent the night. Maybe Aunt Amy’s house. Then, last year, the day after Christmas, we fought over having children. He wants them, and I don’t, at least not yet. Especially since the scare earlier today. He stormed out mid-sentence, gone who knows where for six hours. It fries me how he acts when he thinks he’s right and I’m wrong. But he came back; Denny always comes back. Where is he now, and am I supposed to think everything is my fault? I love the man dearly, but he can be frustrating sometimes. Sorry, I’m not conceding yet, especially since I know I am right.
Maybe he’s got a girlfriend on the side nearby and went to be with her since I’m such a sinful person. Could be that saucy Brittany from my work finally got her claws into him, and they met somewhere. Never know; my advice is don’t trust anyone.
Or it could be that he walked out to the plane crash and is at the television van, yakking away with Mr. Muscleman and the fireman or helping someone in need. If so, we must have missed seeing each other somehow in the crowd. I must believe that—nothing bad has happened to him, and surely, he can’t be one of the so-called missing.
I tell myself not to worry. I’ll hang tight and keep waiting for him to come back.
Knowing it’s faster to upload on a laptop than on a smartphone, I hit the “Ctrl” and “H” buttons on the hibernating keyboard. My laptop comes to life, displaying my server page’s website, the Valley News portal to the world.
The Internet is an amazing tool. Who would have dreamed up such instant information a hundred years ago? It’s beyond comprehension that, since the early 1900s, we barely had automobiles, televisions, and airplanes. Now, a little over a hundred years later, we’re speaking into smartphones that auto-text while we drive our fully-loaded mini-rooms, communicate at warp speed via the Internet instead of snail-mail or a corded telephone, and fly around the cosmos to the space station. Makes me think of something Aunt Amy likes to say. I can’t remember the exact wording, but it is something like this: “Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.” Well, technology certainly has expanded our knowledge. No doubt about it, people are running around trying to dissect and inspect every iota of our lives. Truly a wonderful time to be alive in the history of the world.
Although they can be challenging at times, I love the advances of modern technology, don’t you? I mean, here you are in my head right now—it’s strange, but how awesome is that?
I stare at the screen: An emergency broadcast alert of white letters on a black background catches my attention, especially when bold headlines scroll across the top of the page, stopping my concentration.
Many Missing.
Where Are the Children?
Planes, Trains, and Automobile Madness.
UFOs or a Virus?
Photographs are systematically changing on the screen in front of me. Flashing mere seconds, one at a time.
Flash.
Homes burning.
Flash.
Two planes in mid-air collision above an airport landing strip.
Flash.
Multiple cars piled up on a freeway.
Flash.
Train derailed in Germany.
Flash.
Empty daycare center.
Flash.
Cruise liner in the Caribbean crashing into a dock.
Flash.
A chemical formula with the words “Another Pandemic?” next to it.
Flash.
UFOs spotted.
Flash.
Police in uniforms wearing terrorism gear, gas masks, and shields.
Flash.
Do you see these pictures? Do you know what’s happening? Can you tell me what’s going on here, everywhere?
One picture after another, changing to the next shocking scene. Like flipping through a book on catastrophes, one after another after another. Full color. Some cover the screen with no words or comments provided.
A video pops up on the screen. It’s a broadcast-news scene, but I can’t tell if it’s national or local. A smartly dressed Asian newscaster sits behind a glossy black desk with backdrops of major cities behind him. Although the video is muted, the man is obviously discussing the progress of pollution and global warming over the last fifty years based on the displayed pictures on the screen. The soundless video slows down, showing frame by frame. The speaker looks directly at me—well, technically, the television camera. His lips stop moving, and he glances slightly upward. Then he’s no longer there. It’s instantaneous—in one twenty-fifth of a second. Gone. The newscaster’s shirt, tie, and suit jacket slink down on the desk, slowly dropping out of view. His wristwatch teeters back and forth on the shiny counter, fully latched. His earpiece drops to the empty chair where he once sat. The body is gone.
It’s precisely as James and John described.
The video ends. It’s incredible. My mind refuses to accept what I’ve viewed. There must be an explanation. But what? Was it a magic trick?
Your input, please?
Next, a chart pops up of a map of the world. It shows color-coded regions indicating where people have reportedly vanished so far. Seems like the United States, England, and parts of Australia have the largest reported counts so far.
The Internet is a plethora of instant information, but this is utterly bizarre.
I click over to an all-the-time national news site. More pictures and video clips, some the same as what I’ve just seen, others showing entirely new problems. Increasingly strange happenings and weird occurrences. All had occurred at the same moment in time.
I stare at the flashing words and images, astounded by how quickly—guessing it’s been over an hour—so much information has been uploaded.
In my lifetime, in yours, nothing like this has happened before, causing so many problems at once in every corner of the globe.
It’s a journalist’s field day.
We’re a part of it. Yes, you are, too. Are you as awed as I am?
I’m here, watching it.
You and I must never forget this moment.
This is history. We are history.
And yes, my dear, Sarah-girl is in control.