Page 1 of Jacob Michaels is Not Here

High heels with red soles were rare in places like Point Worth, Ohio. I only knew one person in the entire town who owned a pair of Louboutin heels, and that was because I had gifted them to her. The dead body laid out in the street was wearing a pair of Louboutin heels, and I knew without looking that they were on the feet of the person for whom I had purchased them. Point Worth was on fire. Well, maybe not in a ‘Sir Thomas Bloodworth was indecisive after a baker’s house went ablaze’ way, but fires were scattered throughout the town. It was the only light to illuminate Main Street as I stood there, my eyes lingering on the red soles of those shoes.

Barkley’s Hardware’s windows were smashed out, and flames were flickering inside, smoke rolling out thick, black, and lazily towards the sky. The Sunny Side Up Café was decimated, only one wall was standing, and it was greasy with soot as smoke curled up from the foundation. The corner convenience store looked like a giant bonfire. The bank was basically a mound of bricks with more fire and smoke rising into the sky from the rubble. Lifting a hand to shield my eyes, I took in the devastation around me.

Glinting glass shards caught the firelight and made the street and pavement sparkle around me. A dozen other bodies littered the walkways and the middle of the street, as though God had sprinkled finishing salt onto this little macabre scene of mayhem. Why weren’t their sirens or cop cars or firetrucks or the distant wail of help coming soon? I walked down the street, averting my eyes as I passed the body wearing the red-soled heels. Looking down at Carlita again was something I hoped I’d never have to do again.

Where was Lucas?

Oma?

Were Ernst and Lena and all of the others okay?

Was Oma’s house on fire? Razed?

What had happened to Point Worth?

“Hello?” I looked around, hoping I would find someone else alive.

Seeing dead bodies, for some reason, had neither unnerved nor scared me—even though I had recognized the first one I had laid eyes upon. Something about the scene in downtown Point Worth felt odd. Even if I were able to remove the burning and decimated buildings, the broken glass, and the dead bodies, I still would have felt that something was off about the whole thing. Something about the air, the dark barely permeated by the flickering of nearly silent, roaring fires—all of it just seemed…off.

Your home town on fire. That’s definitely not a normal occurrence. At least not one to be calm about.

The scene would have felt odd, regardless of the circumstances.

However, looking down the street laid out before me, littered with broken bodies, collapsed buildings, some on fire…it was like watching it on a 24-hour news channel. Like I had tuned into CNN for breaking news.

“This just in! The tiny, forgettable town of Point Worth, Ohio, future potential locale for meth labs and esoteric cult compounds, is lit!”

Something about how I was viewing the street unnerved me as I hesitantly took a step forward, intentionally making a wide berth around Carlita’s lifeless body. Shouldn’t I feel compelled to kneel down next to her, hold her broken body in my arms, and mourn her? Sure, I didn’t know her all that well, but I knew she was good people. Carlos was a great guy, and his drag persona, Carlita, was an angel. She didn’t deserve to be laid out in the middle of the street, her dead body exposed to the elements. Would anyone come to get her? Claim her?

Putting one foot in front of the other, I pushed the thought out of my mind. Carlita was dead. There was nothing mourning could fix about that. Mourning would come later.

A lot of mourning would come later.

My feet automatically stopped when I stepped directly in front of Barkley’s. The front entrance to the store was unusual for me to see since Oma and I had always packed at the back of the store whenever we came to Barkley’s. My throat felt tight as I looked at the store before me, windows were blown out, fires were roaring from inside, the front door was hanging on by a single hinge. Had Lucas been at work when this happened? My whole body tensed at the thought of my boyfriend being anywhere nearby when this…mayhem…began.

What had started all of these fires?

Had there been an explosion?

Had this been caused by gangs?

Vandals?

Terrorism?

White nationalists and other extremist groups had absolutely no reason to want to live in Point Worth, let alone make it a target for terrorism. My mind began to replay things I’d heard in the news and read about online, trying to formulate a theory as to why Point Worth had been…attacked? Who or what would want to attack a tiny town in Ohio? What did my minuscule town have going for it that would make it a prime target for such an act? Even if a wanton act of terror was not the reason for the devastation, random violence and vandalism were rare in Point Worth, in general, to begin with. The town was too tiny to have any real gangs…wasn’t it?

Why hadn’t I seen anything in the news about the things going on in Point Worth?

Why did I have to discover what was happening on my own?

Why hadn’t I known the town was on fire until I arrived on Main Street?

This was something that seemed like word would spread about quickly.

Then again…

Why didn’t I know where Oma and Lucas were and if they were okay?