Lost At Sea by Arthur Limbada (non fiction books to read .txt) 📖

was looking for he didn’t know. The room was clean.

As he walked back into the living room he saw Andrew, sitting on a sofa, his face in his hands.
There was blood on his fingers.
“What Happened?”
Andrew didn’t answer. He stood up and walked over to the guy sitting on the chair. Gerald followed him. There was a red scarf on the floor, the one that Gerald saw around the killer’s neck before. Andrew took hold of the killers chin and raised his head. Gerald immediately looked away. It smelt of blood. He wondered why he hadn’t smelt it when he first came in the apartment. Their supposed killer was sitting, strapped to a dining room chair, his neck sliced open by a knife. A little square piece of paper was stuck to his forehead by a metal tack.
5. The Next Disappearing Act

Gerald exhaled loudly and slowly turned back to face the dead man, his face moulded into a steely stare. It changed slightly as he viewed the slit throat with blood pouring out. He raised himself up and walked over to the window, drawing the curtain. He stared out of the window but saw nothing of what was happening there. His vision was encompassed with the image of the dead man and nothing he could do would erase it. Shutting his eyes didn’t relieve the discomfort either.
Andrew spoke to him. “Check this out.”
The sound shattered the image and brought him back to reality. Immediately a rush of sounds and images flashed before him. Cars started honking and the tires skidded. The wind howled. And then he heard loud breathing, coming from him. Andrew stood next to him and passed him a small piece of square paper. It had a small spot of blood on it, it was still wet. On it was a symbol. A large scarlet circle circled around a blood red triangle.
“Where did you get this from”, Gerald asked, confused.
“From the dead mans forehead.”
That was when Gerald knew that everything he just saw was real.
Andrew went back to examining the body but Gerald stayed looking out the window. In the background he could hear someone talking on the phone. He wasn’t thinking clearly again. He looked straight down and in front of him, the cold wind blowing around his face.
And then he saw something strange. A person was standing inside the police department’s doorway. He was dressed in a long black cloak like from the medieval days. Gerald was sure there was something wrong with him but couldn’t pinpoint it. He just stayed standing down there. It almost seemed as if he was staring back at Gerald.
“Are you okay Gerald?”
Reality returned to him. He looked down; the man was still in the doorway, looking up.
“Look over there.” He yelled to Andrew and pointed towards the cloaked figure.
The sound seemed to have scared the person off. He quickly stepped back into the station.
“What did you see?” Andrew asked, looking in the direction.
“There was a cloaked man standing in the doorway, he was just looking at me.”
Andrew looked at him. Gerald was sure that he didn’t believe him.
“I swear”, he said, pleading in his voice.
“Calm down, I know that this is your first case and you have just experienced something very shocking. Just sit down on a couch and try and pull yourself together.”
Gerald obeyed him and walked over to the couch.
After about a minute three other people walked into the room. Andrew walked over to them and they shook hands.
“We can take it from here Andrew Gray, thank you.”
“Okay, we don’t want to disturb you. Come on Gerald lets go downstairs and check on the police”.
Once they got down the stairs, they spotted Ted Collins and walked over to him.
“Guess no one came down, huh?”
“That’s correct sir.”
“Blast it. Get the head of the security to search the building, see if they can find how the murderer got out.”
An ambulance pulled up out side the building. The driver jumped out and stepped in, walking straight up to Andrew.
“Hello sir, I hear someone has been shot?”
“Yes, let me take you. Ted, what did you do with him?”
“I put him in one of the cells sir, let me take you.”

Andrew, Ted, Gerald and the two men from the ambulance crossed the street and entered the police station. Andrew could tell that Gerald was scared as he entered it, looking all around. Ted led them towards the cells and in the closest one they could see the body, lying on the floor.
Ted pointed to it. “It’s over there sirs.”
Andrew was turning away but Gerald walked right in the cell, following the paramedics. Andrew stepped in as well.
“Come on Gerald, let’s go and help”. . . He didn’t finish his sentence. His flow of words ended the same time the movement of his eyes did. The reason for this was because he had seen something, and not any ordinary thing. The item that had caught his attention was a piece of paper, tacked by a metal tack onto the victim of the sniper shots forehead. It was a symbol, a large scarlet circle, circling a blood red triangle.

* * * *

“Seen anything yet?”
Gene asked this question to the computer screen. Her job was to keep contact with the submarine team. Learn all the information first hand and pass it on to the main lady. A crackly, choppy voice answered. The sound waves struggled like a long distance swimmer through the oceans waters.

“Nothing yet,” was the reply from hundreds of miles away. “We will immediately contact you if we see something or anything out of the ordinary occurs.”
“Okay, fine.”
Gene impatiently tapped on the desk.
Less than a minute later some crackling could be hear through her headphones.
“Hello”?
“Hi, we’re getting some kind of object on our radar ahead of us. We don’t have a very clear image of what it is yet. Oh!”
“What’s it?”
“I’m not completely sure, but it’s definitely something very large. But not like an underground mountain, more like something else.”
“What like what?”
“Just wait, I think it is a. . . No it couldn’t be!”
“It couldn’t be what?”
Even with the choppy sound, Gene could hear the tension in the voice of the man in the submarine.
“I’m pretty sure it couldn’t be this, this shouldn’t, couldn’t be this big. It isn’t possible!”
“What is it?”
A short gasp of panic was all that was there to answer her.
It stopped. Gene hadn’t noticed it before. She hadn’t known what “It” was. She could hear the ticking of the clock now. She was so used to that low crackling noise now that once it was gone, only then did she fully realize the meaning of silence.
What basically happened was that the connection between her and the submarine had cut. Contact was non existent. Not possible.
“Hello. Hello! Can you hear me? Is there anyone there?” Gene was ashamed to hear the fear in her voice. Cold, deadly fear. She needed to clear her head so she could decide on the right course of action.
She wouldn’t let herself get taken over. Become overrun.
Her mind burst with different theories for the termination. Vile monsters, scary as hell, ripping apart human flesh, blood spraying all around. Not a pretty picture.
She took several deep breaths. She needed to call Lady Boss.
She picked up the phone, typed in the digits. Her actions were mechanical.
“News?”
Head lady was direct.
“Yes.” Gene’s voice sounded a firmer quality then the last time she heard herself speak. She was relieved.
“Bad.” It was a statement. Gene was amazed how see-through her voice was.
“I lost contact.”
She heard the frustration from the Nameless One.
“I’m coming over to listen to the conversation. Stay there.

* * * * *

Terrance’s seaplane splashed on contact with the liquid ground beneath it. Tyron jumped out of it as it slowed to a stop, a length of rope coiled in his hand. He took the cable and tied it around the pontoon, and then tied the rope on the other side to the dock.

The capital city of Bermuda, Hamilton, greeted the trio with a warm welcome.

Terrance pulled out his cell phone and rang dialled in Gene’s phone number.

“Hello this is Gene, who am I speaking to?”
“Hey Gene, it is Terrance calling from Hamilton.”
“Oh. That’s great.” I need you to go and check out a house for me.”
“Sure, we can do that. But may I ask why?”
“Well. You know the guy Gerald and Andrew went to have a little talk to?”
“Yeah, supposed victim of the Bermudan Dream. What about him?”
“He was murdered.”
“WHAT?”
“Yeah, shot by a sniper.”
“Wow. Well, did the boys get the shooter.”
“Unfortunately no, they surrounded the building and the two went up in after the guy but when they came in the room all the found was the occupant of the room dead. Slit throat.”
“Ouch
“Yep, the killer must have somehow got out by the roof. I actually just got a report. The sniper belonged to the guy whose room it was. No finger prints found either.
“Ugh. How’s Andrew taking this?”
“Not the greatest I fear. Can’t keep beating himself up for not getting the guy. The cheekiest part was that this killer shot the survivor, got out of the building, and snuck to the police station across the street to stick this circle triangle symbol on his forehead with a tack.”
“Sounds foolish and proud, almost conceited. You keep on calling him “the survivor”. Did they never get his name?
“Nope. They say he was in a daze. They sent me a picture of him though so I am going try and match him to one of the people on the Caribbean Dream. They