Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Dear Murph,
Well, if you’re reading this I’d bet Frank took me and you’re fumbling around without a clue as to how to find me. Don’t blame yourself. He’s like that. Nobody thinks like him. It’s evidence of his genius and his demented and evil nature, both of which he is, so don’t be too tough on yourself. It’s a good thing you don’t think like him.
Let me help you out. Chances are near 100 percent that I’m in Majorca. I’d bet the bottle in this case, which is a good one by the way, that Frank has taken me back to where it all started, and he’s stuck me down in my dungeon home. Years ago, he converted it into a home of sorts. It’s one of the only places on earth where he can sleep, even if just a few hours. It’s also where he can lock me up in the dark with my painful memories and leave me to rot. He will do all this because he knows he can’t make me talk, so he’ll use me as leverage to get you to bring him what he wants—probably his birth certificate. Which I don’t have. Haven’t for a long time. His obsession with that small piece of paper proves that identity precedes purpose. Whose you are matters more to the soul than who you are or what you are. I have my reasons for keeping it from him.
There is hope. The attached map should help. Follow the instructions. Closely. Don’t deviate. See you soon.
Bones
C lassic Bones. A simple here’s-where-to-find-me letter. X marks the spot. It’d been there all along. And he wrote it in advance, which meant he knew we’d find ourselves in this position, which meant he didn’t prevent it. Which meant he planned his own abduction.
Bones’s hand-sketched map had ended with specific detail: “Once you reach the headwaters of the spring, look up.”
Gunner and I had traveled up the underground river through caverns and caves, finally coming to a dead end. The headwaters. So I had done what he said. I looked up and started climbing.
Bones had added a PS to his map. “If you slip, don’t worry—the water’s deep beneath you. But it’s also flowing with a force like you’ve never known, so hold your breath because it’s about to take you on an underwater ride that not even Disney could imagine, and it will either drown you or save you.” I remembered how Gunner whined as I climbed and how I could feel his heart pounding through both his and my vest in the same way I could feel it pounding against my leg now.
When the crowd was seated, the chaplain gestured to the vice president, who stood, removed prepared remarks from his coat pocket, and stepped to the end of the coffin. Above where Bones’s head would have been. He opened the pages, stared at them, looked at all of us, then folded the sheets and placed them back inside his coat pocket.
Clearing his throat, he said, “They asked me to speak... I don’t know why. We all know I’m a terrible speaker.” A gentle laughter rippled through the crowd. A much-needed icebreaker. “I won’t attempt to tell you what Bones meant. Or means. Your presence here is evidence of that.” He shook his head.
“I met Ezekiel ‘Bones’ Walker when he rescued me. Literally. From a greasy fat man at a hotel in Idaho. Bones found me, little more than a kid, gagged and bound in the cab of a tractor trailer. I’d been taken eight days earlier. My father, who then held the office I now hold, had unleashed the entire intelligence community of the American government to find me—and they had not. No leads. Nothing. And then this random guy opens the cab door, smiles, lifts me out, and feeds me a burger while the blue lights flash. A few hours later, I was hugging my dad. Glad to be back in the arms of my mom. That day changed the trajectory of my life. It’s why I’m standing here. It’s no secret I grew up a privileged politician’s son. My private school critics called me Riley. In turn, I hated the life. Wanted nothing to do with it. But something changed that day in Idaho. Bones took my indifference and gave me a reason. Gave me my ‘why.’ It is also no secret that, truth be told, my dad pulled some strings. While I was not cadet material, he secured me an appointment into the academy where Bones kept an eye on me. As a cadet, I tried to fit in. Tried to be one of the guys. But I was not. At all. Which was made all the more difficult when everyone around you worked so hard to earn a spot while you were given yours thanks to your daddy. A spot that rightly should have been given to someone else—a fact that only served to heighten my shame. With that as my backdrop, I didn’t have many friends. In fact, I had none. Further, I had grown up lazy, so physical exercise was not my forte. The only thing I chased was the ice cream truck.” More quiet laughter. “Again, no secret, I was more mush than not. One of the ways the academy whittles cadets is through this sadistic thing called an obstacle course. It separates the men from the boys. Those who want to be there from those who like the idea of being there. To be honest, it’s a medieval torture device lifted from the catacombs of hell. I hated it. Hated every minute of it. But every freshman was required to complete the thing in thirty minutes or less. The first time I tried it, I ran, crawled, climbed, scurried, did everything I could in the earth-scorching time of forty-nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds. It wasn’t difficult to read the writing on the wall.” He paused, suggesting the next admission was painful. “Few knew this, but given my soup of circumstances, I was not in a good place.” He shook his head once. “I’d written my letter. Had a gun. One bullet. My plan laid out. I even read medical textbooks and knew where to place the muzzle”—he pointed at his heart—“so that my mother could cry over my dead body and not have to close the casket because I’d blown my face off.
“While I was alone much of the time, I’d also noticed another cadet with few friends. Unlike me, he was physically superior. One of those Adonis-like miscreants who levitated when he ran.” More laughter. “Made a mockery of most of the tests. Bones hovered in his orbit. I wasn’t sure if he liked him or tolerated him, but as with me, he kept an eye on him. Late in our freshman year, prior to the final running of the obstacle course, we were all given strict instructions that while one day we would fight as a unit, this course was an individual accomplishment. We were not allowed, under any circumstance, to help another cadet. In fact, we were ordered not to. If we helped anyone at all, in any physical way, we’d be disqualified. Standing on the starting line, I knew this was the end of my tenure and I’d soon be the subject of more ridicule and shame and embarrassment to my family. I consoled myself, knowing the embarrassment would end that afternoon. I’d started the countdown. I’m not asking for your pity—I’ve lived and do live a blessed life—but I’m describing to you my experience at that time. When the starting gun went off, I watched as the entire company put distance between themselves and me. Twelve minutes in, breathing so hard I thought my heart would explode, that mysterious loner broke the academy record. That’s right—twelve minutes. Basically, he lapped me and then some. Making him a shoo-in for pretty much any summer assignment he wanted. Military brass tend to applaud and reward physical prowess and mental toughness, both of which he had. Over the next several minutes, I clawed my way toward the finish line, which seemed no closer. As my fellow cadets crossed the line and rang the bell prior to the expiration of the time limit, shouting in joyful exultation, it became clear that—while I had improved a lot—I’d never make it. Then, about the time I lost all hope, I looked up and there’s this guy. Running alongside me. With me. Step for step. And somewhere in my oxygen-starved brain, it struck me that he’d finished first only to immediately turn around and come back. Who does that?
“No one, myself included, thought I could make it. To make matters worse, by missing the cutoff deadline, I would cost my entire company a weekend pass. Making me that much less popular. Climbing a rope ladder, I slipped, my foot caught, and I found myself hanging upside down. Next thing I knew Spider-Man righted me and freed my foot. When I told him I couldn’t make it through the log maze, he told me I could and steadied me when I slipped. When I said I couldn’t lift my arms for the final pull-ups, he grabbed the bar and said, ‘Just do what I do.’ And I did. As time dwindled and I snapped, telling him I couldn’t make it, he leaned in, pressed his shoulder to mine, and told me I could. We could. And for the first time in my life, for reasons I will never understand, I believed him.”
Ashley raised a finger and nodded. “Learned something else that day. Two can do what one cannot. I’ve never forgotten that. With more ground than clock, he told me he was staying with me. All the way. My time was his time. We’d do it together. Him and me.” A pause. “Since that time I’ve flown over five hundred combat sorties, and in every single one of them, I have heard his voice. ‘We can.’” A nod. A quick glance at me. “I hear it still. To this day I don’t know how we did it, and to his great credit, I don’t know why. I just know he did. And because he did, we did. I rang that bell with nine seconds to spare. Nine seconds. And when I did, I caught a glimpse of Bones. Smiling.”