The Crescent

Chapter 27

The throbbing sensation in the back of Zacari's head reminded her she was alive, and she'd been slammed into a door. She pushed herself up, alone in The Operating Room, with no idea about how much time had passed, but then it did matter because –

"Javier!" She scrambled up, knocking Lela out of her lap. A woozy drift caught her off guard and she leaned again the wall. Lela raced out the door. Zacari stepped out and found Javier where Baker had left him, curled in fetal position on the bottom steps.

"Javier. Hey. Wake up." She patted his face, and when that didn't work, she reared back and slapped him.

A groan worked itself from his throat. Zacari, pleased he was alive, planted a kiss on the top of his head, then promptly blushed in the darkness. "Oh, thank God you're okay."

"Ohhh. My heaaaddddd." He cradled the back of his skull with one hand and searched for his glasses with the other. Zacari plucked them off the ground and pushed them onto his face, nearly poking one of his eyes out. "I take it he wanted to talk to you in private," he muttered.

"Apparently so," she agreed ruefully.

He got a faraway look in his eyes. "I didn't see him or anything, but I felt it. Before he threw me out of The Operating Room. It felt so...hateful."

Zacari nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Did he know about you being his great granddaughter?"

"No. And he wasn't very happy about it."

"Are you okay?" There was a crack in his left eye glass was splintered like a scythe.

"I'm fine." Why did she feel she'd lost someone? From the beginning something had been off about Baker and his cold, colorless eyes. But he had her frown dimple. There were multitudes of red flags, but she had chosen to ignore them. All because Baker had given her a little attention. It was that simple. You're pathetic, she thought to herself. She sucked in her tears, because she was afraid if she started crying, she might not stop. She brushed the spot her frown dimple appeared, pressed down hard into her sunburnt skin and hoped it would peel off her face with the break of new skin. Will had been right all along.

"We need to talk to Will."

"Yeah," she said numbly.

They slumped against the steps. Like Will's interruption to Baker's romanticized death of Gloria, a rhythmic knocking ensued behind Zacari's temple. She leaned into Javier accidentally, but she stayed there in the crook of his neck. Lela jumped up on her and sprawled between both of their laps.

"I found out some stuff on Will. A few newspaper clippings online from The Cellardoor Journal. It said a Will Drachman had gone missing when he'd had to interview Dr. Baker, and – well, here." He pulled out his phone, scrolled for a beat, and handed it to Zacari. She zoomed in on a screenshot of an old newspaper.

The Cellardoor Journal

Jan. 3rd, 1940 Vol. 2, No. 1

NORMAN BAKER

INVOLVED IN MISSING PERSONS CASE OF WILL DRACHMAN

Journalist Will Drachman is missing. He was last seen the day of December 27 of 1939 by his parents. He was on his way to Baker's Cancer Curing Hospital to interview Norman Baker and he hasn't been seen since, which is unlike him. Baker's staff, composed of an inadequate three individuals for a patient-dense hospital, Theodora Rosewood, Carol Henson, and Ruth Valentine, have refused to comment on the incident. Baker's alleged cure for cancer is cause for speculation of questionable character, and as Will Drachman was a journalist for The Cellardoor Journal, it is to our belief that Baker should be investigated at the disappearance of Drachman. "We just want him home," Drachman's father says. "We just want to know what happened to him," Drachman's mother says. Will Drachman is of medium height, slight, Jewish descent, and with mid-length curly, brown hair, last seen wearing slacks, boots, a brown bomber jacket, a pink bowtie, and an Argus C3 camera.