"Mick, you ready to go?" Mike shouted. His alarm had malfunctioned, and they were running late. "Davy?"
"Mike," Micky shouted back. "He's gone."
"Who's gone?"
"Davy," Micky replied.
"What do you mean, he's gone?" Mike asked. "He can't be gone. We're supposed to leave this morning and he's not here?"
"He's not in his room," Micky replied. Mike brushed past him, heading into Davy's bedroom. The room was empty. The bed was not made, the room was a mess.
"Where could he be? This is the worst possible time for him to disappear," Mike moaned, stepping out of Davy's room and into the living room.
"Maybe he's over at Pete's," Micky theorized. "I'll go look." He turned and left the room, heading out the front door, leaving Mike to pace behind him.
Micky pounded on the door of Peter and Nicole's house. He glanced at his watch. It was seven-thirty. They should have been gone by now, not looking for Davy. Where was he?
The door finally opened, and Joanne stood on the front steps. "Uncle Micky?" she asked. "What's the matter?"
"Joanne," Micky sighed. "Tell me you've seen Davy."
"Um, ok. But I haven't," she replied. Micky sighed, placing a hand on his head. "Great," he muttered to himself. "Where's your dad?"
"Upstairs still," she replied, opening the door and letting Micky pass by her. Micky entered the house and stood at the bottom of the steps.
"PETER!" he yelled up the stairs. He was unwilling to go up. Today was the last day before they left, and who knew what he was doing up there.
"What's the matter Micky?" Peter asked, appearing at the top of the stairs, buttoning his shirt as he walked. "I'm not late yet, am I?"
"Have you seen Davy?" Micky asked. Peter shook his head.
"Not today, why?" Peter asked. He saw the look of panic on his face and stopped. "He's not missing...is he?"
Micky nodded.
"Great," Peter sighed. "Just great. Does Mike know?"
"Yeah and he's havin' a fit right now," Micky replied with a sigh.
"Great. Give me two minutes and I'll be out there," Peter replied.
Davy felt incredibly nauseous when he awoke, and slightly numb. He had a pounding headache, letting him know he was still alive. He opened his eyes and felt the pain increase. He moaned slightly, rolling over, and felt something pull at his arms and legs.
He shut his eyes again but the pain didn't go away. He rolled back onto his stomach where he was a bit more comfortable, and drifted back to sleep, unwilling to face the world in so much pain.
"Okay guys, it's eleven and there's no sign of him," Mike announced. "The police can't help, but we're going to have to postpone the tour."
Micky and Peter looked at each other and nodded gravely. They didn't want to, but they couldn't go without Davy. Mike picked up the phone and began to dial.
Nicole finally dragged herself out of bed at around eleven thirty. She glanced at the clock and immediately worried. She knew they wouldn't have left without waking her up. But it was eleven thirty. That must have meant that they hadn't left yet. Which meant something was wrong and they couldn't leave.
She jumped out of bed and threw on some clothes. Quickly, she ran down the stairs. Thomas and Joanne were sitting in front of the television, watching cartoons. She looked around.
"Hi mom," Joanne greeted, standing up. "Dad said to tell you he went next door."
"Why did he go next door?" Nicole wondered. Joanne shrugged.
"I dunno," she replied, heading into the kitchen. Nicole followed her.
"Did you two eat yet?" she asked. Joanne shook her head. "I didn't, but Tom did," she replied.
"Thomas," Thomas called from the living room without taking his eyes off the TV. He hated to be called Tom or Tommy.
"Whatever," Joanne replied, rolling her eyes at her brother.
Nicole sighed and turned to leave the kitchen. Peter stood in the doorway.
"Peter," she gasped, stepping back. "You scared me to death. What's going on?"
Peter shook his head. "It's delayed," he told her.
"What? The tour? Why?"
"Davy's missing."
"What? What do you mean he's missing?" she asked. "That's not like him."
"No, it's not," Peter replied solemnly. "We've called the police. I don't think it's a joke. Neither do Micky and Mike. It's not like Davy to do something like this. But needless to say we can't go without him." He frowned and sat down.
"Uncle Davy's missing still?" Joanne asked, pouring herself a bowl of cereal. "Where could he be?"
"I don't know," Peter replied. "But don't worry, they'll find him."
Eventually he could open his eyes and not feel as much pain. He glanced around him, and tried to sit up. The pain in his head was nearly gone now. He felt a tug on his arms, and glanced down. Stiff chains held his arms.
'What now?' he wondered. 'What am I into now?'
He glanced around. He wasn't caged but the chains on his arms and around his ankles assured that he wouldn't escape. With a sigh, he sat back and closed his eyes. He'd been in situations like this too many times. He had only one option.
He focused hard. Nothing. He opened his eyes, surprised by the shock and shut them again. He must not have been focusing enough. He tried again, shutting his eyes and focusing. He thought about Mike, Micky, Peter, Nicole, Thomas, Joanne, and anyone else he could think of but he got nothing. No response. No little "tingle" in his brain telling him he had entered another person's thoughts. Nothing.
His eyes flew open again and he gasped aloud. "How?" he asked aloud, surprised to hear his own voice echo and reverberate throughout the large, dark, room.
