Like a frightened kitten Lynnette crept into the semi-busy police station where a light stream of disorderly traffic swept through the floor; from officers escorting pimps and prostitutes, to drug addicts and homeless people being processed at various points throughout the area.

In Lynnette's mind everyone that surrounded her were shadows that were caving in on her. She held her boney arms as though she were freezing cold while trying not to make physical contact with any of the other undesirables that resided in the station's front lobby.

Ahead of her was a long podium that stretched at least fifty feet wide. At the very center of the podium was an older black lady who was dressed in full police regalia and steadily writing away on a piece of paper while successfully ignoring the rest of the world around her.

"Excuse me." Lynnette meekly gawked at the woman.

The lady, who was still scribbling away on her piece of paper, didn't remove her eyes from her duty.

"Can I help you?" She mumbled.

"My...my son has been kidnapped." Lynnette stammered.

At the snap of a finger the lady stopped writing and looked straight at Lynnette asking with a suddenly concerned look, "How long ago was your son taken?"

"I...I don't know for sure. Maybe about an hour ago or something."

"Okay, just hold on, I'll be right back," the woman said while getting up from out of her seat and walking away.

Lynnette stood by and watched as the unnamed shadows passed by her in a simultaneous chorus of blundering chaos. She didn't know whether to remain at the podium or simply walk away altogether. She couldn't stop shaking, and the more she thought of Isaiah the more she just wanted to break down and bawl all over the floor. It had been months since she had control over her own being.

"Can I help you?" A middle-aged, black police officer approached Lynnette.

Lynnette looked at the man and tried to speak. "I...my son has been taken away."

"Okay, follow me and we'll see what we can do."

The man led Lynnette away from the open floor and to a series of desks that were located in an adjacent area. Within the area were other officers who were either heading home for the evening or just beginning their shifts.

The officer pulled out a chair for Lynnette to sit in. Seated just three feet beside her was another desk where a white man who was disguised as a mime was arguing with an officer.

"Okay, my name is Officer Barron." The man said as he sat down behind his desk. "And what is your name, ma'am?"

"Uh, Lynnette Glover," she timidly replied. Barron paused for a bit looking as if he were trapped inside a thought.

"Glover, Glover. Why does that name sound so familiar?" He tapped his fingers on his desk. "It doesn't matter. Miss Glover, can you describe your son for me, please?"

"He's two years old. He has...he has." Lynnette tried and tried so diligently but could not seem to conjure a mere picture of her son in her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not thinking very clearly right now.."

"That's okay, but we need some kind of description in order to get this search underway. Now, what was he wearing when you last saw him?"

"I...I don't know for sure."

Barron placed his pen down onto the desk before sitting and studying Lynnette very meticulously.

"Miss Glover, are you sure that your son is even missing?"

"Yes, yes he is!" Lynnette hurried to say. "You see, I haven't been home in a few days. I've been...working a lot."

Barron continued to hand the young woman the 'square eye' before he picked up his pen and began writing all over again.

"Can you possibly give me anything to go on? Something about your son that we could latch on to in order to make this easier," Barron persisted.

Lynnette bore down as hard as she could before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "He has curly hair and a scar on his left hand that his...father gave him."

"Curly hair and a scar on his left hand," Barron recited to himself while writing. "Is it possible that his father—

Barron right there stopped himself before taking his pen and nibbling on the very tip while staring on at Lynnette. "Now I remember that name." He said in a low voice.

Lynnette only turned her head and blushed the longer Barron looked at her. "Miss Glover, where was your son when he was abducted?"

"He was with my parents at their house."

"Okay, and what's your parents' address?"

"2167 Anders Road."

"Would your parents be able to give an accurate description of your son? It would help."

Shaking her head in a futile manner, Lynnette said, "No, they were both attacked this evening, too."

"I'm taking that this was a burglary?"

"Yes."

"Did your parents happen to get a description of the intruder or intruders?"

"My mother said that there was—

Lynnette's brain came to a complete and abrupt stop at that very instant. All she could think of was what her mother had mentioned.

"Miss Glover, are you okay?" Barron waved his hand in front of her blank, pale face.

again. "My...my mama said that there were three?" She turned

"Who were the other two?"

Reaching his hand out, Barron said, "Okay, Miss Glover, I'm

"She said there were three of them!"

"Miss Glover,

"But I don't know who the other two

"Look, I know exactly how you feel. I have two sons of my own." Barron said. "But in order for us to find

clasping her hands together as tight as possible. "I know one of them."

Writing on his pad, Barron asked,

Lynnette tried to catch her breath. "My mother said that there were three

woman could be part of a gang?" Barron inquired.

she wanted and needed to say were right there on the very tip of her dry tongue, all she had to do was

In a very calm voice, Lynnette explained, "I'm going to tell you something that you won't believe at first, but it needs

sat up close and personal to the young woman while not batting a single

sound...real, but it's all I have. These animal killings that have been happening,

clear on the other side of the area. It was two

victims and perps, stopped what they were doing and directed their attention at the melee

he shot up from out of his chair

At once, numerous officers all descended upon the two unruly men in order to subdue the turmoil, while Lynnette sat

the spurts of profanity-laced mayhem clear on the other side of the room, to her own son; no matter what, the woman could not catch a simple breath. She had spent months ignoring Isaiah to the point where at times she forgot that the

child that she hadn't seen in days was nowhere to be

a man's voice suddenly

with the man seated only three feet to her

"What?" She cleared

man in his mime disguise casually remarked from

sat up in her seat

until a good friend told me about the wonderful

man and arrogantly said,

for the man to stare at Lynnette's scarred up

thing you need is to be in here of all places shaking like

hardest not to look at the man, who with his makeup only appeared as a scary clown in her eyes, despite his carefree

"Look at that mess over there." He nodded his

head to view the carnage

to most of them walking the beat after this wild animal that's running loose." The man explained. "That's why I'm here now. No, I take that back," he sniggered. "I'm actually here because I was harassing this elderly couple. They said they

here and

"Maybe you're right." The man

would end, Lynnette watched in silent comfort as the officers eventually

out there, and there's nothing any of us can do to kill it." Her voice faltered. "I've seen

minute, you've actually seen this animal before?" The mime asked

since then...I know what the devil looks

like a poet."

"No, I'm not, I just

He pointed. "She has a complaint about her neighbors' dogs that keep barking all night. Then you have that guy right there, the bald, white fellow. He's in here complaining that a hooker didn't give him the blowjob he paid for. Then there's that guy right over there in the cuffs. The black kid. This joker actually walked in here on his own volition a while ago. Apparently he's been running around town for the past few days harassing people. The cops have been searching for him ever since Henderson's speech the other day. Then suddenly he stumbles up in here looking for someone himself. What luck? Yep, the police station seems to bring out who we really are really quickly,

person carefully until she came eye to eye with the aforementioned bearded,

in the most distressed manner possible, as if he wanted to reach out for her in the worst way, even though he was fifty or

her eyes and attention away from the man, but the more she twisted and squirmed in her seat, that was all the more she couldn't seem to escape his doom

put me in

so long she couldn't bear it any longer.

"Hey, what about your missing kid, lady?" The mime tossed up

But Lynnette blew him off as she carried on past one busy officer after another. At that point, and after so much anarchy her brain had been reduced

to the handcuffed man Lynnette couldn't help but to quickly glance at him on her way out

"Lynn!"

gazed down all she could see was

"Who...who are you?" She fumbled

his chair closer to her, Cloyse gasped, "You are

he had a disease. "Who

about to cry. His face and clothes were saturated in sweat, while his bloodshot eyes gave the impression that he hadn't rested

the same kinds of

"Please...let me out of

Lynnette turned up her nose before

"I can see in your face dat you have seen

once more stopped before turning back around and frowning, "Nigga, what

Cloyse dropped his head for a moment before looking back up and saying, "You

"Who," Lynnette clinched

two with

Lynnette's left foot tapped so hard on the floor from fear that she could

"Who are you and

"I too have seen dem. I have seen dem all of my life. Dey are here, in dis city. Dey have come for

than they were at that painstaking instant. She heard the words coming out of Cloyse's

"I don't know you!" She yelled. "Who's

officer came up behind Cloyse and began to uncuff him from the

"No, no, I need to speak

guy to a cell, pronto." The officer began dragging

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