Mason was watching the news when it happened. It came as a surprise that the TV reported all sorts of drama, but the worst thing of all was happening inside his own home.
The letter dropped through the door and hit the floor. It took moments for the sound to register. Mason pulled MJ off his lap and set him down between the maze of open textbooks on the floor. As he stood, he made sure his son had been listening.
“What’s the capital of the United States?” he asked.
“Um… Washington, DC,” MJ said.
“Good, kiddo. When I come back, I want you to name ten states, so get reading.”
MJ laughed and buried himself in the books. Diane was upstairs sleeping in, and her absence suggested she hadn’t heard the letter come through the door. Mason stooped to pick it up, tore open the licked-down envelope flap, and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
The ink was the color of blood. Mason paused, looking at the back side where the blood had soaked through. But was it blood or simply a deviously chosen shade of ink? It didn’t matter. What really shook him was the message inside:
Now I have two more.
Brahm
That was all it said, but it was enough. Mason read it and reread it, holding the paper in shaking hands. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than a threat, but if two more civilians died because of Mason’s inactivity, he would be unable to forgive himself.
Thankfully, he had an idea.