Warrior: manifest in criminal minds, #3

Part 1 - Chapter One

Secrets come out to play: Slumber had come early! It was approaching faster than expected. Dranreb sat at his school desk, as if pinned or stapled to the chair. He stared down at the empty container in his left hand. Where had the capsules gone? A moment ago he had counted twenty capsules. His eyelids grew heavy and he looked up in desperation at the empty desk before him, searching for ghosts who had long moved on! He was alone! He blinked, and his heavy eyelids reopened with great effort. The Evil One was sitting across the table, staring in expectation. Beyond the heavily armored being was a doorway. No, there were two doorways! There were two passages, one over each shoulder!

At first he wasn’t frightened as Dad and Mom had accompanied him into the sea. They had dwelled deeper and deeper in, until the water level reached shoulder height. It was his first time in the sea and it wasn’t half as scary as it looked. They were surrounded by fishing boats that were awaiting high-tide. When the tide goes out, the boats lie on the sand. As Dranreb walked, the boats started to lift from their beds and gradually drift more vigorously. The lukewarm water finally reached his throat and the current started tagging at him from behind. A series of small swells pushed at the three-year-old boy’s chest and throat, and he lost his balance. He toppled over backwards and sank fast. A moment had passed before he finally regained his footing and stood up, gasping for air. He was now a little closer to shore and the water level was below his shoulders. The current had subsided and the boats were drifting calmly around their moorings. Dranreb turned around and around only to find that Dad and Mom had gone. Where were they? He was all alone, and this was more frightening than the huge ocean with all its flesh eating fish.  There were no kids swimming, and no supervisory adults. Everyone had disappeared, as if swallowed up by fate. Fate! What was fate? He suddenly recalled Dad having used that word. Dranreb grew cold as he gradually exited the water and the wind penetrated his wet shirt. He knew the way to the beach-house. Dad and Mom were waiting for him at the house, no doubt! The dry afternoon sand was hot. Very hot! The sand was burning the bottom of his feet, and he had no option but to run. He ran and ran! He ran from one shaded thorn tree to the next. The sand seemed to go on forever, but finally his little burned feet trampled the cool blades of grass. He had reached the estate and wiped the tears off his cheeks. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked up at the sky. Thank you God, he whispered to the mighty legendary one, the one Mom had mentioned when reading from the big book. Dranreb dipped his feet into the bucket at the foot of the wooden walkway, ridding his feet of the sea sand and cooling his burned soles.  He then walked on the walkway toward the main beach-house. He remained on the walkway, walking around to the back of the house. The door was wide open and he ran inside, happy to be home. He looked in the kitchen, then in the lounge. He looked in the bedrooms, bathrooms, and finally on the front porch. The house was deserted and there wasn’t a soul to be seen! Once again he was all alone! He would surely die all alone, and he was frightened as hell! Perhaps everyone was next-door! Dranreb ran out the door, down the walkway and up the stairs to the wooden house next door. The huge sliding door was wide open and he needed no invitation. He searched the kitchen, the bedroom and the bathroom. The house was empty. He then ran over to the next wooden house and repeated his action. He climbed off the walkway and looked beneath the houses. The houses were built on stilts and the vehicles were parked beneath them. The pickup and the quads were all there, but there was no sign of life anywhere! The boy was tired, frightened and cold. He ran through the garden to the dirt road beside the main house, and up the road.  The road was overgrown with thorn-trees, therefore the sand was somewhat cooler than the sun-baked beach. Dranreb walked to the end of the dirt road and turned left. It was a long walk. Very long! He now walked along the rocky path on the open plane. Up ahead was the local village. There he was bound to find life. It was getting dark and there was hardly any daylight left by the time he reached the thick thorn fence bordering the village. He crawled through an opening in the fence only to find nothing! There was no village. He heard crickets, as if the sound was of any consolation. He heard bugs, and the whistling of tall pine trees capturing pockets of wind. There was a light breeze blowing and he felt a cold chill moving up his spine. Where had Santa Maria village gone? This was scary!  Suddenly there was another sound. ‘Click, click!’

Dranreb sat on the beach, staring at the ripples on the surface of the water. Today was his sixth birthday. It had been almost a full three years since his family had disappeared. If it hadn’t been for the generosity of the neighbors, who took him in with open arms, he would never have survived. He needed this time alone to face his memories. He recalled the tragedy. He recalled each day since the tragedy. They were as many as the grains of sand on the beach. He stared at the sand until his memories came to life with a clicking sound. Soon he was surrounded by a clicking sound. The entire beach was covered in crabs. The crabs were moving in on him. They were growing in size and the clicking sounds were getting louder. He stood up and whirled around toward the path leading away from the beach. The first crab pinched his right foot. Now there were many painful pinches, one after the other. He ran without looking back. As he ran the pain grew worse. He felt his body weakening, but he pushed on. He was determined to reach the beach house.

Part 1 - Chapter Two

The boy is making a remarkable recovery. It’s a miracle he’s still alive. Somebody or something is watching over him. I don’t think we’ve ever had a case like this before. Not in Perth anyway, Doctor Trevethon said to the petite nurse beside the bed. He checked the EEG machine before continuing. Two snake bites, one on each foot. The soles of his feet were burned as if he had been walking on hot coals. He had been adrift at sea in a small boat for almost a month, before being rescued. He was starving and dehydrated. This is one courageous little man.

What will happen to him once he has completely recovered? Nurse Cronje asked. It was a rhetorical question. She knew the decision to deport him was left up to the authorities. There was no response from the doctor, and just then the boy awoke from his sleep. He opened his eyes and stared directly at her. He then looked from side to side at the walls, the ceiling and the machinery. Finally he fixed his gaze at the pipe protruding from his arm. It seemed he wasn’t familiar with the concept of a drip. He was only a child after all, and had probably never seen the inside of a hospital. The boy never made a sound. A tear ran down his cheek. Doctor Trevethon left the room and Sandy Cronje smiled at the boy in a reassuring way, as she fought back her own tears. She took his free hand and squeezed gently.  What is your name? she asked in a warm voice. There was no response. Do you understand me? she tried again. This time the boy nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Dranreb, the boy said in an unusually deep broken voice. He stared directly into her eyes as he spoke. She was making progress, and could feel the boy’s pain. This boy had obviously been forced to mature a lot sooner than others his age. This was evidence of hardship, and not the childhood that her kids were used to.

Part 1 - Chapter Three

Finally after three long days and nights the search party had been called off. All day long they had patrolled the beach, the villages, and even searched every bush and crevice. Quads and Cars were traveling back and forth from the campsite. Foot patrols had been formed by the local community. The beaches were trawled and boats were searching the ocean. Practically every square inch of the Mozambican peninsula was searched for the missing boy. Dranreb had personally hired fishing crews to circle the neighboring islands,