the number

by nick nelson

barlow woke up. the number flashed into his head. he got up and wrote it down before he forgot it. it was 12 - 15 - 93 - 674 - 93. then he called the number department. this is the number department of control central. this call is being recorded. i have the number. what is your name? barrington barlow. what is your number - your number , not the number. do not give us the number over the phone. 90675-43806 - 432. what is your date of entry? 3-13 - 33. a vehicle will be at your residence in fifteen minutes. thank you. barlow dressed and was out in the street in eight and a half minutes. the night was cold. his heart was pounding. this is it, he thought. at last, this is my chance. the black sedan came around the corner. there were two people in the front seat, a heavy set man at the controls, and a stylish young woman beside him. they were both dressed in gray. mr barlow? the young woman asked. yes. get in the back. they drove off. you have the number recorded? the young woman asked. yes. i have it recorded, i have t written on a piece of paper, and i have it memorized. good. they drove in silence. they drove a long way, out beyond the outskirts of the city. it began to get light, revealing vast expanses of flat land with no buildings on them. barlow began to have second thoughts. what do they need me for? he wondered, after i give them the number? a low flat roofed building came into view. the car stopped. the building had windows, but they were dark. there was no sign of activity , outside it or inside it. the man and the woman both got out of the car. stay here, the woman told barlow. he waited. obviously, he had nowhere to go, and no way to get there, out in “the middle of nowhere”. they are going o kill me, he thought. i will give them the number, they will have no more use for me, and they will kill me...