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We Are The Last – Chapter 1 – A Sci-Fi Novel

Chapter 1

We are the last.

In three minutes and fifty-nine seconds, we will die and humanity with us. I stare across at the last people on earth and I can’t help but wonder what could have been done differently. How had we reached this point in time to where the entirety of the human race resulted in the two women and three men that existed in this room? None of us can find the courage to look each other in the eye. Maybe it’s that we grow weary of breath.

Each of us has found their respective corner in the room except me. I’m positioned in the center, staring forward at the comforting brown shades pulled shut. A few of them shuffle, growing restless at the last remaining moments. Three minutes. There’s a part of me rising, I expected as much. Human survival instinct is famed for its stubbornness. Or, it used to be. Something is eating at me.

There was something some years ago that a professor had mentioned in my Chemistry class. I hadn’t thought much on it until the following year in Biology. The breaking down of cells, how gravity had a profound effect on humans. Not surprisingly it went all the way down to a molecular level. Aging wasn’t only in our DNA, it was the product of the combined forces of environmental pressures and the strains we placed on our bodies. I’m not sure why I am thinking on this now, but I know I am on to something. All of the others may have lost faith in themselves, but I have never given up.

Three minutes and thirty-nine seconds. The large numbers on our Scyvies glare back at us from our wrists, the once calming blue a countdown to death. I close my eyes and draw a breath savoring the clean, fresh air. This wasn’t like back home, where it was required to walk outside in a mask. I always did, knowing what waited on the other side. That stench would never go away, no matter how many times they cleaned it. It wasn’t the stench that was the hard part. It was what followed from smelling it. Memories. Memories that we would all soon try our hardest to forget.

“Hull, cut it out.” A low rumble cuts the silence.

I ignore him, keeping my eyes pressed shut. I breathe in, then out, my mind grasping at the earlier memories. There’s a faint glimmer suspended in the back of my eyelids. I slow my heart rate, only focusing on my breath and the image.

“I said knock it off,” Harris growls.

There’s a faint scraping noise as Harris jumps to his feet. I again respond with nothing. Let these assholes give up. I’m finding a way out.

“Put a cork in it, Harris.” Ash drawls. I can’t help but smile at the tough son of a bitch. She never takes anyone’s shit and always has my back. She’s never understood me, but she fights like hell by my side. I think it’s secretly because she buys into what I’m selling. I should have gotten into the pyramid scheme business, I would have made a fortune.

“I will not put a fucking cork in it, breeder.” He spits on the floor. Harris has gone too far. That word is inexcusable, especially on this team. The room gasps at the word. I’m waiting for some kind of angry retort, or hear Harris howl in pain. The only thing that sounds is Ash’s snort and then quieted words.

“I’m going to remember that after me and Hull get out of here, shit stain.”
I feel the air stir as someone seats themselves in front of me. Their scent hits me and I know it’s Ash. Her calloused fingers rest over mine and her energy washes over me. It’s warm like summer rain.

“These idiots might not see it, but something’s changed ‘bout you in the last few minutes.” I smile crookedly at her words. Perceptive as ever. I don’t open my eyes.
“You remember last year, by the docks?” She’s quiet for a few beats, mulling it over. “You talking about that time traveling nonsense from your professor again?” The glimmer is turning into a distorted image. It reminds me of looking out from a window in my youth. My breath hitches for a second as sweat beads my brow. It is a window. A small two foot by two-foot window from the old house off of Jupiter Run. The distortion is from the rain, pouring outside. I can’t get over the smell. I’ve never been able to get it right over the years but today it’s there. A strong smell of gardenias, fresh cut grass, and dirt. Ash is here next to me, but still only seated in the room.

“Hull, that’s pseudo-science BS. You know that, right? Time travel ain’t real.” Her voice betrays her inner thoughts. I can tell she is getting excited.

“What the fuck is with you two? Acting like you got some way out of this. It’s bullshit.”
“Harris,” Cutter’s voice is like velvet, but there is a distinct edge to it. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, you’re not going to make the last minute or so with the rest of us.”

Harris quiets and there are footsteps as the others circle around me and Ash. Our Scyvies give us the last minute warning with one small beep. “You two hippies going to enlighten the rest of us?” Dawn has finally decided to join in. Mostly, because Cutter has. They had been travel companions for years before they met up with the group.

“We don’t have enough time for me to explain in full.” I mutter, “You remember what I taught you?”
Harris is on the floor, beside himself in laughter. “Here we fucking go again. Join our consciousness, find your fondest memory, travel back to your youth, our minds are the key. God damn horseshit.” His laughter is the only one in the room as the others quiet. Our breathing begins to sync. I let my mind wander back to that moment. The temperature in the room begins to drop rapidly. I know they are getting it ready for our swift departure. I’d read somewhere that it barely took a handful of seconds before you were gone. Even if this doesn’t work, at least we can die knowing that we tried.

The Scyvies give the thirty-second warning, two small clinks in rapid succession.
In seconds, the room is gone. I can no longer feel myself drawing breath or the goosebumps that have spread across my skin. The dull pain in my back and slowly numbing hindquarters has disappeared as I travel along the length of the glimmer. I find myself wondering what this must look like to the others. Everyone’s ride is different.

What are they seeing at this very moment? Ash is probably remembering the heat, long summers, and popsicles. She could go on for hours talking about the different flavors of popsicles, and each of her favorites and why. It was an odd thing, hearing a teen girl pine over flavored ice, but I knew they meant more than that. Back when her father had been alive, he had run a small Popsicle stand with snacks on the weekends for the local kids. It was an outdated thing for the time, but the kids loved it. They would set alarms on their visors, unplug and venture outside to have one of his homemade masterpieces.

Most of us had plugged in some time ago and never came back. It started around the year 2025 with the VR technology at its peak. Everyone that was anyone owned one. With prices dropping by the months, it was possible for just about everyone to get their hands on one. Eventually, they became state issued if you were of school age and was mandatory to own one for the public school system. Because of the decline in need for office space, and with the new technology, most people contracted from home. If you needed something, you ordered it online. It was then directly dropped through the wall in a chute so that it wasn’t left outside.

Theft was a way of life in most units and was expected. If something was left outside of your door, or you hadn’t had a proper chute installed, that was your own problem. There were a few people that didn’t either have the means, or the mental capacity to actually own VR gear. These were known as the Outsiders and them like many others existed before the drastic decline in the population around 2039.

It wasn’t that the people stopped having children, it’s that there was no longer a desire or need to. Fast forward to 2051 and just about everyone had opted out of childbirth or test tube children. Once we had located the specific chain of DNA that caused aging, along with decreasing the effects of outer stimuli, such as gravity damage as well as pollution, people were living to be hundreds of years old. We had some inkling of aging according to the history books some time ago.

Around the year 2006 scientists had begun to realize that eating too much, in combination with too much direct sunlight also contributed to the rapid deterioration of cells on the molecular level. Once we unlocked the secret of aging in our DNA, most aging could be entirely reversed or frozen. It went from monthly treatments to every six months, and then finally years. Before the global war, the United States had boasted that their scientists were working on a formula that you would need only take once in your lifetime at the exact moment you wanted to freeze your aging.

For the elders, this also meant that in just ten small treatments, they could go back to their peak years in their life. We had finally discovered the fountain of youth, and it came not from the box jellyfish-like people had suspected it would, but by accident from a single man that had spent his entire life isolated from the world.

Robert Cromwell, of the 200 block on Beacon St. in Somerville Massachusetts had been recorded as owning the property since the early 1930s. According to the bank records, the house was family owned and had been passed down for generations. That was only partially true. It was true that it had run in the family and had been since the 1930s, but the owner wasn’t Robert Cromwell Jr. As a matter of fact, Cromwell had no children whatsoever. He had simply changed his name over the years.

When they had discovered his secret in 2033, he had lived to be a hundred and thirty-three years old. This wouldn’t have been odd, except for the fact that he appeared to be a twenty-five-year-old male, with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. The man had more money than several generations of families combined, and yet curiously he stayed in the quaint two-story home with blue paint and white trim. It was sad, really when they confiscated his home and he was imprisoned for tax evasion. He later died in his jail cell three months into his sentence and the public was told that he had a rare genetic disorder that didn’t age him on the outside, but that his organs had failed him.
None of us bought that.

It became a long-running joke on the internet. Sites dedicated to finding the man that could cheat death. Like many conspiracy nuts, people would post photos of Cromwell in a cabin in the woods, or in other countries boarding a plane. But there was a difference now, people could immediately tell if the photos were fake or not using simple software you could download from any mobile device, and it was free. More often than not he was spotted in a type of military garb or a lab coat, which lead everyone to believe that he had in fact, not died but had been forced to join a team of scientists so that old wealthy people in California and New York could buy their way into eternity.

Many people believed that we would eventually just upload our consciousness onto a hard drive and into bodies that never aged. But the issue with this was how to do it. It was never taken directly from the source, it was collected from various social Media, texts, emails, recorded Skype conversations, facial recognition software and personality traits related to them, and then used to create a ‘perfect being with no need of organs.’ The issue with this is that even with advanced programming, we still had not mastered the ability to make them entirely─ human.

They could mimic humans and could come damn close to actually being human but they still couldn’t pass the Turing test. Even now, in the year 2067, we still have not mastered it. Though, to be fair we stopped pursuing that quickly after finding the secrets to our own aging process. A.I. was now used as a means of cheap labor, sexual pleasure, and companions. Since humans no longer had a need for procreation, the poverty line grew exponentially.

The middle class completely dissipated, leaving behind two types of societies: the wealthy and those that survived. The ones that were left behind were stacked up on each other in slum-like buildings all over the world. Each space was sized perfectly for the decline in a normal household size. By 2015, the average of 2.54 dropped down to 1.5 by 2055 in the U.S. By the time we had reached the year 2060, most maternity hospital wings had been replaced and children based businesses had been shut down.

I know later generations if in fact there is any left, will probably wonder what all of this has to do with my current situation. I’ll get around to that if I make it through this next part in one piece. I’ve ridden the glimmer many times before but never for this long. Not to mention, I don’t have a current body to go back to so hopefully this all works out. If it doesn’t, well hell─ I guess all of humanity is fucked and this will just be one for the history books when an alien civilization finds it. I’m still pissed off that after all these years, there’s still no sign of intelligent life out there.

Then again, they might have taken one hard look at our society and decided to nope the fuck out. In any case, about five feet in front of me is the answer to all of my questions. Hopefully the solution I’m looking for. I want to walk through the second I see it, but I pause by the entrance of the rift. I’ve never traveled with anyone else, so I’m not sure if I actually am going to see the others or if I just walk through. From down the hall, I hear the ten-second warning from the Scyvies.

If I had to describe what I’m looking at, I’d compare it to a long tunnel made entirely out of fractured light that bent every twenty feet or so in different directions. My footsteps make no sound and you can see directly through the floor. As a matter of fact, I’m not entirely sure there is a floor. I’m fairly certain my brain has decided that the way my head is facing is up and wherever my feet land is down. There is a distinct odor traveling along the length of the glimmer and I know my time is gone. Not a single person has appeared next to me, so I know they either have to meet me on the other side, or they are lost like everyone else. This was it, it was now, or never. I dive through the tear in time and tumble onto the hard floor.

“Winner, winner, sky friend! Come now to collect your prize at 3112 West Main Street. Fame, wealth, and fortune are just around the corner─” I wave my hand silencing the bot. If where I initially thought of is actually where I am, then I know I’m back to my old loft off of Cadiz near Downtown. My head is killing me, but I manage to pull myself up to a sitting position. It’s muggy in the small space from all the rain, so I know it has to be spring or fall. A quick glance out the window tells me what I need to know─ it’s definitely Fall.

I’ve never done this before, so the next part hits me as a bit of a shock. Bile shoots up the back of my throat and spills all over the concrete floor and wall. I’m silently cursing my ignorance because I must have eaten a fucking turkey dinner before I got here. I dry heave for several seconds when the bot starts back up again, “Feeling ill? Try these home remedies from Natural Market supply house. Choose from these all natural flavors─” I growl and wave my hand again. “Alexa, purchase one month of bot-free access,” I yell. “Understood, would you like to enable single voice command purchase now?” I grind my jaw, “yes, fine whatever just shut that thing up.” “You have purchased a one-month premium bot-free access to─” “yes, thank you, Alexa, that will be all.” “Understood. Goodbye.” I sigh and look down at the mess I’ve created on both myself and my loft.

I stiffen as I remember what day this is. Normally, people like to travel back to happier times. Not me. I wore my depression like some badge of pride at this age. It was the first, and last time, that I would be twenty-three years old.

I was born at the tail-end of the depression in the year 2025. They, of course, didn’t call it that, but the recession was just a nicer way of saying, ‘we’re all fucked financially.’ My mother, one of the few traditionalists, conceived me the natural way. She never wanted a partner, so she chose to be artificially inseminated with her best friend, Laura. It wasn’t that uncommon by then for women to blend DNA with other women, it was a simple process using bone marrow. And thus, Jamie May Bonham was born on a windy day in October in a sad, one bedroom apartment with a midwife older than dirt. My mom had been pushing forty at that point, and the doctors had warned her that it could destroy her body if she didn’t get treatments. My mother, with all of her southern charm, told them to promptly go to hell and take their damn technology with them.

Lily May Bonham was nowhere near as delicate as her name would suggest. Mom took pride in being the only female engineer in her department. She was every bit a scientifically minded individual as she was religious and I always found that side of her peculiar. We would have discussions at length on how I believed science was the only answer, and she would talk about how they could go hand in hand. She never told me how to think, and that’s what I loved about her. She never told me I was wrong unless of course, it was on a math problem. She was ruthless with those. The point I’m making is that she never made me feel inferior to her, not for one second. This made me realize later that she was wise much beyond her years. Some people went entire lifetimes and never grasped that concept.

My mother loved to exercise. It was understood that the first part of the morning was set aside for her. It was a quiet time in which I was encouraged to go online and read my books assigned for the semester. I never actually enjoyed reading, but I loved being read to. I had loads and loads of audiobooks at my disposal and I listened to them every morning as I downed my protein shakes. Some time ago, the food crises due to over cropping all of the farmland made actual food extremely expensive. Food vouchers covered the necessities, which were up-to-and-including: nutrient shakes, or bars, water, and salt. If you wanted grown fruit, veggies, or real meat─ it was the equivalent of three month’s salary for one meal. It was a way for the government to claim that it was to help bring down obesity levels and for our own benefit.

A few times before mama died, we actually got to try real fruit. I still salivate thinking about that nearly fifty years later. Ironically, her rigorous exercise routine was her undoing. We lived pretty well for the time, which meant that the neighborhood hadn’t turned into the shit stain it is now. My mother ran for six miles once a day five days a week. I’m not sure why she chose this arbitrary number, but she was very cross with herself if she didn’t make her goal. The day had been much like it is now, rainy and the air clung to your skin. She had given me a kiss on the way out, telling me to be sure to run on the treadmill for a minimum of thirty minutes with a five-minute cooldown. I nodded, eager to get to the next chapter in my latest action adventure and murmured a quick, ‘I love you too’ as I plugged in. The mechanical lock was the last thing I heard before the worst day of my life happened.

I didn’t start to get worried until lunchtime rolled around. At first, I thought that maybe she had decided to stop by the market and surprise me with a candy bar, or piece of fruit. I made the first call to her phone at two pm, then four, and finally five-thirty. I was just about to phone Laura when the apartment’s auxiliary system informed me that an officer was at our front door. It was the backup system since the police did not yet have a direct line to my headset. More than likely, my mother had placed a passcode on her phone which was an incredibly outdated tech for the time and the officers hadn’t known what to make of it.

I don’t remember a lot from that day, but I do remember the knot in my stomach that twisted as I placed one foot in front of the other. I knew if they were there, it meant that they had to have checked her implant since she wasn’t conscious enough to give them the direct line. As I approached, I remember the officer had called out his badge number and informed me that he was there to give me news on my mother. I swallowed thickly and opened the door. At the time, I had barely made out what they said, but I got the gist of it. She had stopped by a local market on the way home. A man that was fed up and desperate had picked that moment to set off a bomb that had taken out half the city. There were no survivors, including the bomber. I had numbly thanked the police officer, took what little was left of my mother from him and closed the door.

The second worst day of my life was the current day that I chose to go back to. That sounds confusing as hell when I think about it. I haven’t fully grasped how I’ve managed to get here, but I have a few good ideas. That’s the key, making sure that I know how so that I can share all of this with the others. I’m nearly thirty years in the past, right before the global revolution took hold. I stare down at the clear liquid in the syringe laying on the floor in front of my feet. I thought that I had put this day behind me, but my subconscious must have chosen this moment because it was a huge turning point in my life. I rolled the needle around the ground with my foot, staring at the temptation for the second time.

Had I have actually done it right back then, maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. When I had pushed the fluid into my arm the first time, I had passed out before I emptied the entire thing. It left me in excruciating pain for hours before my neighbors called it in after getting home from work. I crush the liquid tube beneath my foot into the other mess I made on the floor, digging my heel in defiantly. I would not revisit that place again. I lost countless hours locked away in that place when I could have done so much more for people. Our people. There’s a mechanical whirr as the iBo fires up and starts vacuuming the liquid mess.

It was standard issue for the stacked units, in an attempt to keep out pests. There was one stationed between two units on each level. Each floor in our particular unit was fairly spacious in our building. Compared to most units that preferred to cram in anywhere from 18 to 22 units, our building only allowed 12 units per floor. The only reason that I’ve gathered from this is that my mother left a substantial amount of money when she passed on and she owned this unit in full. Many places in the city started allowing you to pay off a unit if you were born in a certain year. I was lucky enough to actually be grandfathered in and the place was mine. I change shirts and then walk up to the sweeping bot, staring as it removes the contents and then pauses.

The blood drains from my face as I realize what it’s doing. Shit. I leap across the room, knowing that it is going to dock and report its findings. I can’t allow that. I hastily rip at the panel on top, push down and then lift the covering. It’s still charging toward the wall, I’m shocked how much pull this small device has. If it manages to actually make it before I can figure out what to disconnect, the authorities will be here in seven minutes. I have twenty feet at most and it’s moving one foot a second.

Shit, shit, shit.

I’m following along like a dog sniffing at their owner’s hand for food. I could jam the wheels that would buy me time. I find the nearest piece of cloth and rip it off the window. The floor is concrete so it isn’t used to going over the carpet. Most places didn’t have carpet anymore because it was found to be incredibly unsanitary. There’s a groan and then a strong odor as the moving parts get caught around all the fibers. I nearly shout in excitement as it stops eight feet from its destination. It would buy me at least three minutes before the front desk was notified that the bot had malfunctioned. Then a few more before maintenance would be knocking at the door. I locate the belly of the beast and push down the release switch. A warning buzzer sounds and I curse loudly at the empty space. Why the fuck did they make these things so fucking difficult?

Those three minutes would turn into seconds because it would notify the office that someone was tampering with the device. What’s done is done. I still have time before they would come up the elevator. I finally get the container free and open the latch. All of the glass and metal is there. I cross over to the cabinets and pull out a bag, then pick out all the pieces of glass and metal and dump them into it. I have to leave most of the dirt, or it will look suspicious. I’m about to put it back into the vacuum when I realize something. The liquid isn’t there. Fucking idiot.

I hear the ding at the end of the hallway and leap over to the front door. Most units didn’t have a top lock, but ours did. I turned it and then bolted back over to the vacuum. I could hear the men talking as their keys jingled down the hallway. I have ten seconds, twelve at most before they are at my door. I’m frantically searching where I pulled the dry vacuumed contents out, but there is no other container. I angrily flip the vacuum over and finally find it. I want to scream in anger, but I manage to jump to my feet and pull at the island drawer where I kept all of my small tools.

I rip at the small drill and hope that it all charged. Bit, bit, I yell at myself. I locate the smallest sized one and run over just as I hear the guys walk up to my front door. “Alexa, industrial music” I call frantically. Loud mechanical sounds with base start filling the area as I flip the switch on my drill. The noise is softer than the music playing and I sigh in relief. The bolt removes easily, but I have less than a handful of seconds before the men will be beating down my door, or call the authorities. I’m less than happy when I finally tear it free. There are a bunch of clear liquids and then brownish liquids in the front. It’s a series of small rows with several of them.

I press my hands into my forehead as I hear the first knock at the front door. There has to be a code for each unit. It’s evenly distributed into eight cylinders, the two nearest the front being darker─ which meant that they must be older. That left the middle units and the ones near the back. Here was my problem. I couldn’t just remove all of the liquid, that would land me in for questioning by the local PD and if tampering was actually evident it would turn into a federal case. I had to put something into the container or they would know that I had removed it. But which one?

The intercom sounded as a gruff middle-aged man cut over the industrial music. “Please silence your music and answer the door within thirty seconds, or we will contact local authorities.” Alexa paused the music. “The maintenance crew seems to be outside of your unit and is unable to get inside. Penal code 1174-2 paragraph 4─” “I understand, thank you, Alexa. I am complying. Please turn on my shower.” “Understood.” Alexa flipped on my shower. I ran to the bathroom and pushed the telecom button. “I’m here,” I shout, “sorry, I’m in the shower. Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.” The guy lets out a long sigh and grunts. “You got thirty seconds.” I let go of the switch and douse my hair in water, careful to not get it on my shirt. I’m still grasping the liquids as I run over and get a glass from the shelf. It was now or never, I bring the liquid eye level and decide on the back right. It’s clear but has a slight bluish tinge. This has to be it, the other looks like water. A really loud knock comes from the front again.

It sounds extremely impatient. “Yeah, yeah” I mutter. I dump most of the liquid into my glass and stick it in the refrigerator. Then I fill the rest of the tube up with water from the sink. I can’t keep the poison there all day, it will do a scan before I go to bed tonight. But it’s safe for now. I race over to the vacuum, shove the tubes in the way they were facing before and quickly hand screw the bolt in.

“Resident 10127, you are hereby warned that I am going to call local authorities─”
“Sorry” I yell, opening the door. “I slipped on the tub when I got out. It’s going to leave a nasty bruise.”

The man waiting at the door for me is every bit as gruff as I expect. His beady brown eyes are cross as he points a meaty finger my way. “What the hell is going on here?” He hasn’t listened to a word I said. Thankfully, I look about as flustered as I feel and I take a few breaths, steadying my voice. “Like I said, I was rushing to get out of the tub and I slipped and fell.” He stares at me for a few seconds. “Well?” I blink and look from him to the artificial unit next to him.

At first glance, the A.I. units look human, but when you look closely at them, you can tell they aren’t breathing. This unit is a simple older model with red hair and freckled skin. He is tall, close to six foot three and his skin is paler than mine. “You going to let me do my job so I can get to the other few hundred units that need servicing today?” I blush a deep scarlet and step back from the entrance. The A.I. unit looks to me as his partner enters. “You may enter,” I say quietly. The unit nods and steps into my loft. This always makes me uncomfortable, how the older units are programmed. We had to give verbal permission for them to enter. I really don’t like talking with anyone, unless I have to. I hear the older man let out a curse. “God damn son-of-a-bitch ate the curtains. Management ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout this.” He had the lingo that most blue collars did around here, with a heavy accent. He was definitely from the North East.

“Red, get your ass over here. Now.” The unit increased his pace as he rounded the corner to meet with the old man. I pulled the door shut and took a casual stride into my living space. The old man stands as I walk past and grabs my arm. “You do this?” I feign shock and scrunch my brow in confusion. “Why on earth would I do that? Like I said, I went to take a shower and the next thing I know, the two of you are beating down my door. I didn’t see this until I went to answer the door.” The lines deepen on the man’s face as he sizes me up. “What happened?” I again blink at his question, my eyebrows going up.

“What do you mean? I just─” “The bots don’t just come out unless there is a mess.” He threatens. It was that ‘don’t fuck with me’ tone that elders have an annoying way of doing perfectly. “Look,” I say, “I spilled some of my water earlier and broke a glass. I managed to get most of the glass up before it came out. Then I decided to hop in the shower. There isn’t a crime against that, is there?” I challenge him with my own stern gaze. He shrivels a little but still keeps his chest puffed slightly. “Yeah, we’ll see.” He bends down and scans the area.

I know the bot has done a good job, so I don’t hesitate to walk from both of them. “Let me know if you need anything else,” I offer dryly. The man mutters something sarcastic under his breath, but I am already at my computer, stuffing the bag into the small door to the right. I pull up my schedule, double tapping the screen. I need to get reacquainted with my life. I know this is my last semester at the university, but I had no idea what day it was, or if I had classes today. I relax, seeing that it’s Friday afternoon and have nothing going on. Then I wince. Of course, I don’t, this was the day I was planning on ending my life. I hear a few murmurs over my shoulders and slide my hand to the right to put the calendar away.

I stand and walk over to the refrigerator, then grab a glass. I am one of the few people that still keeps the old water pitchers. I prefer the flavor of the charcoal filter versus the filtration system for our units. I knew it was probably in my head, but I swear I can taste some sort of medicinal residue. It always has a bitter, metallic flavor.

“In accordance with penal code 1174-2, paragraph 4 versus─” “Don’t lecture me on something my grandfather helped write, you hunk of junk. I said beat it.” I took a few sips, chancing a glance over at the two. The A.I. stood and turned walking down my short hallway. I tense as I hear the door slam. Apparently, even the older models are programmed with human reactions. The old man sighs heavily and meets my gaze.

I can see he is working something out in his mind. He nods and motions with his other hand for me to come over. I set down my glass and try to control my breathing. What does he know? Great going, Bonham. Your first day back in the past and you manage to make enemies with a man that can turn your life to shit in minutes. I picture the hospital. When I say hospital, I’m using that term very loosely. It was more like a privately funded prison. Most of the best hospitals were stationed further north or on the lunar colonies. For the rest of us simpletons, it was normally a house visit for federally regulated drug prescriptions, or it was diagnosed with your mobile care unit.

There was a mobile clinic in each building. It was a small, 4×4 foot space that you wore provided booties and face mask in. It then took a swab of your saliva or blood sample and quickly diagnosed the issue. Within two hours, the prescription was sent directly to you and you were ordered to quarantine in your quarters for the remainder of the contagious period. Then your entire unit was decontaminated and you could go back to your life. But attempted self-harm cases were different. You had to go under a physician’s care for a minimum of one year, effectively losing your spot on the lease and freezing your accounts until a doctor cleared you to go back into society. If you wanted to go about it the legal way and file for assisted suicide, that was a whole other mess. Much like the first one, you were required by the state to enroll yourself in a year-long program with a psychiatric care physician, then placed on medication and have been on the medication for a year before you were allowed to make that decision on your own.

Which meant it was a two-year minimum to end your suffering. Total bullshit. That’s why I took it into my own hands and did a shit ton of research on how to slowly collect the chemicals I would need to die peacefully. That was mostly here, in the U.S. but there were some countries that were way worse off.

“Look, kid, I don’t got all day.” I jump at his words, but manage to walk around the corner with a straight look on my face. I don’t bother saying anything as I stand in front of him. I’m not really one for words, most the time people just sort of say what they think and I remark here and there to keep them sated.

This guy, there was something about him. Even though he seems like a dick, his voice has softened a degree. His eyes even appear softer. I’m not sure if it’s all in my head when he speaks. “Had a son about your age a few years ago.” I stay quiet, interested in what he’s trying to say. I’m curious because he’s leading up to something, I can tell. He doesn’t sound angry, he sounds sad. “I know it ain’t easy. All this.” He motions with his hand making a circle. “Things aren’t making much sense anymore with all the old people young again. See, me, I’m a traditionalist. I ain’t wanting any of that weird shit, ya know?” I nod pressing my lips into a forced half-smile. Where is he going with all this? Then I freeze as I see his portable analysis machine.

He’s found the small amounts I’ve tried to hide with the water. I try not to panic, but I can sense it’s creeping into my eyes. I can feel them growing wider. I jump as he places his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, alright. As my grandfather would always say, I ain’t no snitch.” He stops and points his finger across from me. “Mark my words, if you make me regret this decision, I’ll make it hell for you and anyone related to you. You get me?” I tear up, trying to not let it slip from my eyes but my body betrays me. I feel the wetness slide down my face and I turn away. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m the only one left.” He grunts and takes a step back. “No family, eh?” I shake my head.

He scratches the back of his head uncomfortably. “I…uh. I ain’t much good at this, but I seen that school you attend. It’s the third best school in the country and your, what, Top eight in your class?” “Five” I whisper. “What’sat?” he asks. “I’m in the top five,” I repeat softly. He cracks a smile, clearing his screen. “Seems like an awful waste to me. With scores like that, you can do just about anything you want.” He bends down and clears iBo system records. I don’t know this guy and he’s doing all of this for me. I’m awkward, unsure of how to thank him. If he would have reported me, I would have repeated the past and lost everything. Now it makes sense.

He had ordered the A.I. unit out in the hallway because it would have reported me immediately. It was legally bound to do so with the Human’s Rights Act of 2045. Basically if a human was a danger to themselves or others they would be reported to local authorities and processed within twenty-four hours.

I let out a long, shaky breath. “I don’t really have much to offer, but─” “yeah, look kid. I ain’t lookin’ for nothin’ alright? Just, do good in school and make something of yourself. Cut whatever nonsense this is out, alright? Some of us, you know, wish they got what you do.” I nod woodenly. The bot is back on the floor and heading back to the wall to dock. The guy is almost to the door when it dawns on me. “How’s your son?” I ask. He stops and casts a wary glance back at me. “He made it a little further than you did today, kiddo.” I’m so shocked, I’m speechless. The door closes behind him before I’m able to actually react to what he’s said. I’m tempted to go outside after him, but think better of it. I don’t want to raise suspicion more than I probably have with the A.I. unit. Besides, there was work to be done and I had no idea what the hell I am going to do to prevent what was bound to happen.

Obligatory Update Post

So I thought I would do one of those update posts. I haven’t done one in a while and wanted to share a little of my life.  (warning, long boring text)

I started a new job around 3 months ago that has been really time intensive. I had a few concerned messages about me still doing my videos for you guys and podcasting.

No worries, you guys. I had to have an adjusting period to get my head straight and not come home dead exhausted. I am definitely going to keep doing those. I mentioned that I will be sending my work off to a publisher, I will be doing that in 3 weeks and will hopefully know something within 6 months. (publishers take quite some time to respond, as you can imagine!)

One of the things I struggle with is being able to stick with one thing and going with it. Especially being horribly ADHD and for a while, unmedicated. I also was diagnosed with something I’m not comfortable sharing on social media, but it is genetic, so thanks, mom 

I had the last few months to really turn my attention to what it is I wanted to do. I have been focused on doing too much at once, versus focusing on what it is I enjoy. I enjoy storytelling, I enjoy drawing. So, that is what I should do. Everything else should fall to the wayside as a hobby. 

In short, I’m here and not going anywhere – Just had to get there mentally. 

I heart you all! ~♥


Grey ❤

Gallery

My Family is Falling Apart – Part II

I wave goodbye to Karis after dropping her off at her new class. It’s been two days since she last went. I had taken what happened Monday to be a sign that both of us needed a break. I didn’t press too much, but I had a long chat with her about keeping what happened to herself. Especially for the other children and teachers. I don’t like telling my daughter to lie but in this case, it is best that we lie to everyone─ including ourselves. I left that last bit out, of course, an eight-year-old doesn’t need to learn the depressing truths of adulthood just yet.

I’m not even sure what is going on. The last two days have been quiet, no real incidents or weird indoor rain clouds. Just thinking that should be enough to make me feel stupid. Indoor rain clouds. What’s next, gnomes, faeries or maybe the boogeyman? Karis has been spending the night with me. As a parent, I know I really shouldn’t be feeding her fear─ she needs to see reason and logic. Unfortunately, there is no reason behind what has happened. I even got paranoid about it possibly be carbon monoxide poisoning and changed our detector. No luck, no explanation, so I’m relying on the loss of sleep and added stress theory. We’ve both been playing games, watching shows and movies. It was a nice staycation, but it is time to get back to reality.

Traffic is incredibly light today. I pull into the parking garage with 30 minutes to spare. I can’t remember the last time it’s happened. I sigh, my shoulders falling as I walk to the stairs. For once I can sit, read the news and enjoy a cup of coffee before the work day begins.

#

“Tom?”

I look up as she peeks around my office door. “Hey, Carroll what’s up?” I ask. She inches her way into the space, nervously looking around. Carroll was one of those sorts that always looks guilty, even when they’ve done nothing wrong. With her brown hair and slight frame, I’m always reminded of a mouse or rat. Her voice is soft, sometimes it’s hard to hear. “I was wondering if I could have the rest of the day off?” I blinked a few times up at her and then looked over at the clock. It was barely eleven. “Everything ok?” She looks stunned for a moment, then drops her gaze to the floor.

“You…can’t ask that.” I blink a few more. She’s right, I didn’t think of that. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, I was just concerned is all.” Carroll doesn’t react, just shuffles her feet a little and hugs herself. Something is definitely wrong. When she stands in silence, I realize she is waiting for me to approve her time off. My next sentence comes out stilted and awkward, “yes, of course, you may. Take all the time─” she’s out the door before I can finish and the words die in my throat.

In all the years we’ve worked together, I’ve never seen her so upset. I stand and walk across the hallway and then through the small door that leads into her office. An odor immediately hits me, strong and sour. I cover my mouth and nose, searching the room for the source of the smell. Everything is pristine as usual, it’s spotless, so where on earth is that vile smell coming from? I open each of her drawers, scan the desk, and open her cabinets.

“What are you doing?” I jump and spin around. Carroll is blocking the doorway, her eyes rimmed in red. As I get a closer look at her face, I realize she looks terrible. Her features are tired and drawn, her skin a sallow color. Like she hasn’t slept in days. “Do you smell that?” She inhales sharply, her hand coming up and hanging awkwardly as she points in my direction. “You smell it?” I furrow my brows, “Of course, it’s awful. What is that?” She lets out a long sigh, her shoulders sagging. “Oh thank god,” she says, “I thought I was going crazy.”

I walk over to the trash. “Don’t bother,” she whispers. I stop mid-bend and look over my shoulder, “What do you mean?” Carroll shakes her head, “You won’t find the source. I’ve looked everywhere─ even had maintenance go above me to see if a rat had died in the ceiling.” A rat.  I look across at her and she suddenly is aware of me. She wraps herself in a hug, looking over at the glowing monitor.

She looks even more mouse-like as her eyes widen in fear. An overwhelming stench fills the space. It’s so strong I feel like I’m going to vomit, it’s putrid─ rotten. Carroll covers her face and steps back into the hallway. Her eyes water, “please, get out.” I look over at her sudden angry outburst. “Wha─” “Get. Out.” she repeats slowly. I walk from the room, “listen, I’ll have someone take a look at that, you take the day off, ok?” She barely hears me, her eyes staring at the dark space. “Carroll─” she jumps, “stay away from me,” she snaps. I’m stunned into silence. I’ve never seen her behave this way. She spins on her heel and bolts away.

 

#    

 

“Daddy?” I look up from my meal, wondering how long I’ve been staring at my food. Karis’s plate is empty. “What is it, honey buns?” I ask.  Her lips purse and she scrunches her eyebrows together. She looks so much like Jen right now it hurts. It’s the look she gave me when I brought work home. “Does your tummy hurt? You didn’t eat.” I shake my head, “no, baby girl, I’m just worried about your mom.” Her eyebrows go up “why?” she asks, “did you guys fight again?” Then quietly she adds, “is it about me?”

I stare across at this girl that is now definitely on the path to adulthood too soon and wonder if this is what causes it. I’ve never experienced divorce, well, except for my own, but not in life. Kids always called me sheltered. I look at the ground and frown, this is probably what they meant. “No, honey. I haven’t heard from mommy in almost a week. That worries me, doesn’t that worry you?” I’m shocked when she starts laughing. “Daddy, don’t fib to me─ are you playing a trick?” I look up at her face, it’s crinkling near her eyes and her eyes are sparkling. It’s the kind of look a child gets just before you’re about to bring out the tickle monster and they scream, ‘nooo don’t!’ but always stay just within your reach.

She really does think this is just a game. Some secret family joke. I can’t tell if she is in denial or really just believes─ I pause mentally. “Karis, have you heard from mama?” She laughs harder. “Daddy, you’re silly.” “Karis.” I snap in that no-nonsense adult speech we all somehow master. She stops laughing but the glint is still in her eyes. There’s something she’s not telling me. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one that told me mommy is picking me up this weekend.” My jaw drops and I fight the urge to yell, the audacity of this girl lately. “Karis, you know that’s not true. Why are you lying?”

Her lips pressed together and her chin raises, “I am not lying.” she sputters. “Your phone went off last night and you answered. Mama said that she would be here Friday to come and pick me up. And you said─” “Alright if you want to continue with this,” I reach into my pocket and remove my phone. I swipe across the screen and go into my recent calls. It’s the second time tonight my jaw comes unhinged.

She isn’t lying.

I pour through my text messages. There are dozens of new messages between Jenna and me. There’s even one from this morning telling her about Carroll’s strange behavior. Then another message about confirming her picking Karis up at 6 p.m. tomorrow night. “What the fuck,” I say out loud.

Karis gasps, “Oooo. Daddy that’s a no-no word” she whispers. I sigh, “I’m sorry, baby. I guess I forgot about mommy talking with me.” I press my fingers over the bridge of my nose. The pressure feels good, reassuring. What like you aren’t losing your damn mind? I shake my head and try not to fall apart. Karis scoots her floor across the chair and walks over to me.

I feel her little arms wrap around my body and her gentle squeeze. “It’s ok daddy, I get confused sometimes too.” She pauses, “especially with reading─ the words jumble funny. I don’t like them.” She backs away and puts one arm behind her back and then one up to her mouth, nervously biting at the nail. “Does that happen to you?”

I melt at her innocent words. She is trying to make me feel better the only way she knows how. I wish adults were this sincere, it would solve so many of my problems. “Yes, baby it does. It does to everyone that first starts. Speaking of which, go run and do your homework.” She pouts and chews on her nail more, her shoulders slumping. “Now, Karis. I mean it,” I say. She sulks the whole way, but I hear her grab her backpack and go into her room.

I wait until I’m sure she will actually be focused on her work before I slip outside and dial the number. Please pick up, I pray silently. The phone rings a second time, and then a third. By the fourth ring, I’m about to hang up when a sharp click sounds. There’s a brief silence and then shuffling.

“Jen?”

She doesn’t answer. Maybe the connection is bad. “Jenna? Can you hear me?” I ask, worried that maybe she’s in the middle of a surgery. But, if that were true she wouldn’t have her phone on her. It isn’t allowed in the room while she’s working. Maybe she pocket answered. I listen to see if I can hear any rustling or a swoosh.

A long breath of air blows across the microphone, it sounds like a sigh. “Jen, are you on mute? I heard a sigh is that you? If you said anything, I didn’t hear it.” Click.

Click

Click

Click

Click

Click

Click

Click

Click

Click

Cli─ “Tom?”

I jump, then sag and let out a huge sigh of relief, “Oh thank god” I whisper. “What’s that? What’s going on?” Her voice sounds extremely tired like I’ve woken her. I pull the phone away and look at the time. Shit. She normally wakes up in an hour for her shift. Now I feel like even more of an asshole.            

“I’m so sorry to wake you, Jen. I just needed to hear your voice.” I instantly regret saying that. I know what she’s going to say.

“Tom─” she sighs, “Nevermind. Are you OK? Is this about Carroll?” I shake my head and then feel dumb, she can’t see me, “no, no just listen OK?” I know how crazy it’s going to sound, I know it isn’t true, but I feel like the right thing to do right now is be honest. Jenna is a doctor first, she’ll listen and tell me what I should do.

Am I safe to even be around Karis? My mind starts wondering what else has been going on while I took a mental vacation from life. I don’t like it, but I tell her everything─ Karis’s troubles at school, the otherworldly cloud visiter, and the missing timelines and not remembering that we had texted or called.

She’s silent for a few seconds. “Have you told anyone else about this?” “No, no one. You know how bad that would look?” My shoulders droop as the weight of the last few days leaves my body. “Besides, who the hell would believe me?” I hear a click on the other end and some rustling. She must have turned on her bedside lamp. “Honey, I love you, but you have got to start taking care of yourself. Stop worrying about me and everyone else.”

Even when I just told her something that I’d convinced myself was a mental breakdown, she still has that focus and pragmatic nature I love. She is thinking just like me, knowing that I must be under a lot of pressure. There is nothing about this woman that is horrible, no flaws, she handles herself and others so well. That’s what is making this all so hard, I can’t be angry when she’s so level-headed. How can I yell when she makes perfect sense? It was between her words that she wanted me to read, not what she was actually saying.

It’s a way for her to say that I needed to get sleep, eat, get mental rest from work and life. I haven’t given myself enough time to heal. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, “I know you have a life now─ a new one and I keep screwing it up.” She sighs on the other end, but it’s a candid one and somehow gentler.

“You honestly think I’m doing this because I want to?” She’s awake now, there’s no trace of grogginess. She has my full attention. This is news to me, after all, she was the one that filed for a divorce. “What do you mean?” I ask hopefully. “Tom, I’m not doing this right now.” I pace in the kitchen. I’m edging dangerously close to feeling optimistic. I want to ground myself, but it’s no use─ the words just fly out, “Jen, what is all this? Why are you doing this to us?” I hear her sniff on the other side, it’s a wet sniff, she must be crying.

Now I’m really confused. If she didn’t want all of this, why the insistence, why the new place, why any of this? At first, I thought what any newly divorced man thinks─ another man. But after a while, I realized that wasn’t it at all. There would have been plenty of signs, Karis would have seen him by now or hear her mommy talking with him.

“You know why.” her voice is really wavering, a cross between frustrated and sad. I instantly feel guilty. I have no idea why, I haven’t done anything, but her crying is something I’ve never been invulnerable to. I take a long breath in and then exhale. Ok, she is on one of her manic bouts. She probably thinks that we have talked about this before. I calm myself down before speaking.

“Honey, I really don’t. I’m sorry if we talked about this before, but I really don’t remember.” The tears start coming on the other end. She sputtering and sniffing, she sounds really upset. I wait patiently as she collects herself on the line. This is the first time I’ve really heard her get upset, well to this degree. The last time was the day that she left me.

“Tom, I really can’t do this right now. I have less than an hour to my shift.” I sigh, glancing up at the clock. She’s right, but it’s awful timing. If it weren’t for the hour, I would assume she is purposely avoiding me. Would it really matter? I think bitterly. It’s over, and she won’t even tell you why.  That’s not fair, but I need to feel that right now to separate myself emotionally. “Alright, I get it. We’ll see you tomorrow.” She hangs up and I’m the idiot that’s still sitting here and staring at the screen.

#

Karis giggles as we pull up to the building. I stare for several moments from the parking lot. “Wow daddy, it’s like a castle” Karis squeals as she jumps up and down in the back seat. She isn’t kidding. I can’t believe places like this actually exist. I frown, realizing that while I make well over a hundred thousand, it’s nowhere near what Jen makes. I gape at the brickwork and tall iron gates, being a specialist definitely has its perks.

I open the passenger side door and gather Karis’s bags. A whole week away is going to be torture for me. Being a dad is really all that I know. I swallow thickly as I cross over to Karis’s door. I knew it was coming, I had gotten her a whole extra week during the transition of Jen getting a new place. I frown at the extravagance. This isn’t her, maybe she is going through something too. I’ve never known her to get something over $1200 a month─ which was tough in this city, but she had a way of negotiating.

This isn’t just a normal loft─ town-home? I squint at the windows, there are several bay windows, paired off in two’s and then a ten-foot gap between them. These have to be lofts, a town-home would have an entrance on the ground facing the main road and all I see is one entrance and a main roll-up garage door.

Still, these have to run at least three grand a month, we’re barely five minutes from the main city and that’s with traffic. No way she isn’t spending twice our mortgage on this place, I don’t even need to see what the inside of it looks like.

The weird part is this place is new─ it has to be, and yet the bricks look authentic, like something you would have seen in the early twentieth century. I can almost hear the blend of weird car horns and horse-drawn carriages. I glance around feeling incredibly uneasy. Where are the other people? I haven’t spotted a single car since we’ve pulled up. It’s Friday night and we are barely one street over from the main bars and restaurants. Where is everyone?

Karis’s door swings open and she peeks out her little head, “Did you get lost, daddy?” I crack a smile, “har-har” I say. I reach into the car and tickle under her arms and belly. Her giggles are like music to my ears. “OK, OK, I give!” she yells between gasps of air. Man, I’m going to miss this bundle of fun.

#

Jenna looks absolutely stunning and she’s not even trying. I swear she is getting younger, just last week she looked like she was in her late twenties─ she doesn’t look a day over 23. I always thought blue looked really great on her, there’s something about the way her hair looks against it, but these clothes seem like they were made just for her. It’s just a shirt over tights but somehow she manages to make it look like an evening gown.

“Hey Jen,” I say, hating how shy I sound. I’m 42 years old for christ’s sake. “Hey” she replies warmly. There’s something in her eyes as they linger on mine. I can’t help but respond, my body growing warm and heart racing. She bends down to Karis balancing on her legs. “Hey honey-bunny, you want to run upstairs and check out your new room?” Karis squeals again and tears up the stairs.

I shake my head. “Man, I wish I had a tenth of that energy. I’d get so much done.” Jen laughs leading me toward the stairs. “Right? I’d kill for that some days.” That gets a real laugh out of me, “Hun have you seen yourself? I have never seen any woman look as good as you at 39.” Her laughing stops and she pauses near the top of the staircase, “Looks can be deceiving.”

I’m confused by her sudden moment of silence. Had I offended her?

A scream sounds from down the hall─ it’s long and loud, really loud.

 

Conclusion coming soon! xoxo – C.A.

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My Family is Falling Apart – A Short Story

Part I:

 

“Jenna”

She pauses, her back turned to me. Her shoulders are drooped more than usual, her frame wispy. She’s so light this time it looks as if a large gust of wind would knock her down.

She sighs and then turns around, leaning on the brick outside of the door. Her breathing is labored like she had just run from the house. She had only dropped off our little girl in her bed and used the restroom. She was winded walking from the bathroom to the front door. Now I’m really worried.

“Are you taking your medication?” Her features stay in that mask she wears when she can’t talk about her feelings, smooth, and lifeless. “Yes,” she answers, her tone taking on the same emotionless effect. A few seconds of silence pass before she makes eye contact with me. Her eyebrows raise as if to say, ‘anything else?’

Jenna is every bit as stunning as the day we had promised each other forever. Her smooth, creamy skin hasn’t changed and I’ve never seen her have a bad hair day. Her blonde hair has a slight wave to it and if you catch it in the sun it has bits of red. Strawberry blonde, I think I overheard one of her friends call it once. She’s always had one of those small frames, even after Karis was born. She just bounced back into her pre-maternity clothes no problem. Secretly, I think many ladies envy her for it.

Even now, with her face lacking emotion her beauty can’t be hidden. It’s always been a mystery to me, how she’s stayed looking youthful all these years. She’s pushing 40 and hasn’t aged a day since we met. I don’t mean that in an emotional sort of way that a husband sees a wife as beautiful at every age, I mean I’ve tried to find any sign of it and damned if I haven’t found any. I know that’s a thing men aren’t supposed to notice, or I guess be happy over─ but it’s just always struck me as odd. You know?

Well, I say wife. I’m still not used to this next part. She’s going to leave, head back home to her place near downtown. She got a job working at Baylor. Which was both good and bad. It meant long hours and being on-call at any time of the day. Why she chose to be a trauma surgeon, I’ll never know. The horrors she sees, I can only imagine.

The divorce finalized earlier this year. Ten years gone, I can’t believe it. It’s my worst nightmare.

Karis mostly stays with me. We decided given her mother’s hectic schedule, it would be best that she have a stable environment for home and school. It wasn’t traditional, but it worked. I can’t remember wanting to be anything other than a husband and a father. It is my life goal. I don’t really buy into that ‘ball and chain’ nonsense, never have. I’ve loved every step of the way.

 

Well, except this part.

 

Her face draws up into a tired smile, one of those forced ones she gives all of her patients when she has just pulled an eighteen-hour shift. It isn’t that she doesn’t mean them, it’s that her body starts to shut down most of the unnecessary functions. Such as excess of emotions. I’ve seen this woman shut down in mid-cry with razor-sharp focus and attentiveness that would rival any politician. It’s an amazing trait to have, I do envy her that.

Without realizing what I am doing, I place my hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you alright?” I feel her tense slightly, but she doesn’t move from my grip. I’m tempted to hold her, but I do the gentlemanly thing and back away, clearing my throat. Jenna had made it very clear that things were done, no sense in putting myself through all of this a second time. She relaxes and slowly bobs her head up and down. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired,” she pauses and then adds, “you know, with the new place and all. Moving and work has been draining.”

I don’t buy it. Not completely, but I know exhaustion when I see it. “Listen, Jen─ don’t drive. If you need me to get you an uber or drive you, let me. I don’t think you should be driving in that state.” She bristles, her chin raising a degree. A bit of her stubbornness flairs, and I’m reminded of the side of her that really turns me on. I know it’s not an appropriate thought, and I quickly flip the switch in my brain. Whoa, boy, shut it down. This venue is closed up for good, windows boarded.

She must sense my hesitation, or something in the way I look. “Who would watch Karis?” Her words are soft, inviting. It reminds me of simpler times. She’s looking up at me with those big doe eyes. I know she isn’t doing it on purpose, I know when she’s trying to seduce. This is different. Then, as quickly as it comes, she turns away and walks over to her small honda civic. I’ll never understand why she doesn’t buy something better, she’s owned that car forever. She easily makes enough to drive anything she wants. Yet, she sticks with this tiny, white car. My guess is she’s saving for an early retirement. Can’t say I blame her, my parents taught me well. I’d only need to put in another 7 to 10 years at most and I’d have enough to retire on. Even if I live to be 150. After that, well, I guess I’m fucked. But I’ll be old as hell and probably shitting myself, so who cares?

She leans on the door for a moment, her hair picked up by the breeze. “Tom, I just want you to know─” she trails off, her brows press together and she bites her lip. I want to be impatient with her, yell and scream and demand to know what’s going on. Problem is, I can’t anymore. I’m no longer entitled to an answer and it kills me inside. I’ve gone from anger to sorrow in seconds, depressing myself. What I want to say is, Spit it out, god damn it! Instead, I smile and say, “What is it, Hun?” Her eyes dart from the house to my face, no doubt looking back at Karis’s window.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Then she’s gone, driving down the road and turning onto the main street. I stand there for a long time. Long after the dust has settled and my neighbors have turned out their lights. All I wanted was to be a husband, a father. Why is that so hard?

“When do I get to see mommy’s new place?” Karis asks. Her legs are dangling from the stool as she stuffs the waxy chocolate donuts into her mouth. I don’t know why those things taste so good to kids. It’s basically solidified fat and sugar. The film on your teeth is the worst. I don’t let her have them too often but today was the first day back to school and I wanted her to have something comforting.

Karis, much like myself at her age, is showing all the signs I did. She has bad anxiety. Yay genetics.

I can tell she’s already dreading school, her face falling as I usher her along to finish her breakfast. I can’t believe she starts 3rd grade this year. Seems like yesterday I was chasing a bouncing, squealing kiddo running in her diapers. I frown as I check my watch. Jenna was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago. Normally, Jen would have Karis giggling and forgetting about her first day jitters, excitedly telling her how much fun she’s going to have for the year. She was famously a few minutes late, but never this much. If she didn’t get here soon, I’d have to leave without her. This wasn’t like her at all. She always made time for Karis. Especially on the first day of school. It was a tradition for all of us to walk with Karis hand-in-hand to class and wish her a good day.

10 more minutes go by and I can’t wait much longer. I text her one last time, hoping that maybe she had slept in, or that she would respond with an immediate apology, explaining herself. Then a full 5 minutes go by, and then 7. This time, I really can’t wait anymore. For the first time ever, Jenna will miss Kara’s first day at school. I look over to Karis as she downs the last of her milk and smile, “You ready honey bunny?” She grins ear-to-ear at the nickname and nods her head.

I blow Karis a kiss from the hallway as she sits at her desk. She’s already chatting with a girl across from her and laughing. I recognize the girl from Karis’s 1st-grade class a few years back. Glad to see that Karis has already found a friend. Maybe it’s true what they say, kids are simple and they don’t think about things as much as we do. She seems to be adjusting just fine in her new desk, all smiles, and semi-toothless grins. I stare at her from the hall, she really is a spitting image of her mother. Except for her eyes. Her eyes are green like mine and she’s tall and lanky. Jenna and I would always joke about how Karis would be as tall as her in a few years. It wasn’t an exaggeration. Karis was easily going to reach six feet tall in her teens and she would be strong. Real strong. Every sport we’d put her in, she was number one on the team. I don’t mean to brag, but in this case, she actually is a hardworking kiddo. 

Now if she would apply herself more to reading, we would be all set. I’ve never seen a kid that could melt to the floor the way she can when she has to sit at a table and focus on letters. $1500 dollars and a reading tutor took care of it this past summer, but damn if the girl wasn’t stubborn about it. Took that from her daddy too.

 

I’d almost forgotten about Jenna’s odd behavior as I walk out to my car. Then the rage hits me. How the hell does she promise to be here and never show? How could she do that to Karis? No call, not even a text. At this point, I’m not sure if I should be angry or worried. But in the end, the anger fizzles and worry creeps in. My mind switches back to her face last night and her words. I’m sorry. What was she apologizing about? Was it because she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it this morning? If so, why didn’t she just tell me? I pull my phone from my pocket. It vibrates and I get excited. Maybe this was her. I frown at the text message alerting me that my phone bill has gone through─ and nothing else. What the fuck is going on?

I can’t worry about it too much, so I head into work. I’m hopeful that in the next few hours she’ll call, or text before I really start to freak out.

It’s not too bad of a day and nearly 2:30 when I get the call.

“Mr. Holloway?” the woman croaks. It’s one of those smoker’s voices, the stereotypical kind that you hear in cartoons.

“Yes, speaking,” I respond.

“This is Leslie Smith from Hawthorn Elementary. I’m the school nurse calling about Karis.”

The blood drains from my face. “Is she OK?” I ask. I stride across my office and then shut the door. Best that no one hears something else to give the office gossip. She sighs on the other end, and then is silent for a moment. It’s as if she’s carefully weighing her words. “Karis is fine, no cuts or bruises.” More reluctance and then, “It’s more what happened that really concerns me” she says. “Ma’am?” I’m confused for a moment as to why I’m getting a phone call if Karis isn’t hurt. Then my chest tightens. “Did─ she harm someone else?” I silently hope this isn’t true, it’s the last thing I needed after this day. “Heavens no, that girl is as kind as they come. Never seen her get upset even when she ought to,” the nurse chuckles despite her earlier reservations. “Ms. Smith─” “Mrs. Smith,” she interrupts. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith─ if my daughter isn’t harmed and she hasn’t harmed anyone, then what is the nature of this call?” I’m beginning to lose my patience. She’s silent on the other end again, but I can hear her shifting the phone. “Look, maybe it isn’t my place, lord knows I’ve had my fair share of problems, but, Karis said some very strange things today. Is everything OK at home?” I tense up. So, she had been paying attention to what happened this morning. “Well, normally her mother and I walk her in on her first day and her mom never showed” I finish. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I finish the sentence, it’s awkward having to say it out loud. “Well, now, that’s exactly what I mean” she sounds genuinely confused. “I’m not following” I say, trying to get her to the point. “Mr. Holloway,” she clears her throat and shifts on the other line. There’s that odd crackling that comes with a landline, they must still be using one of the ancient ones with a cord that connects to the base. “Karis was sent to me today because she asked the teacher if she and mama could go to the restroom together.” I’m still confused and even more so now. “You mean Jenna came up there? What’s wrong with that?” Relief floods my system. So she had finally got up there and had sat in with Karis. The relief is quickly replaced with anger. Why hadn’t she made an attempt to text me or call me back? I had been worried sick.

The silence on the other end makes me rethink my assumption. Something is wrong. I don’t know how I know it, something in the shifting, in Mrs. Smith’s sighs and heavy breath on the other end. My mind swims with the possibilities, but in the end I just ask, “What is it?” The nurse finally speaks at my question, “Mrs. Holloway never came in to see Karis today. As a matter of fact, Karis has been very cross with the staff and all of the other children are, frankly, afraid to go near her. During recess she sat on a bench and talked to an invisible person next to her. The teacher, bless her soul, tried to give the girl the benefit of the doubt─ first day jitters, you know that sort of thing. But as the day has gone on, she still insists on it.” I sit quietly, soaking in what she has just told me. I know Karis might have been upset, but I didn’t realize she was this upset. I am going to have to have a chat with her, see what’s really going on. Finally, I say, “Mrs. Smith. I know if this divorce is hard on me, it’s got to be harder on an eight year old.” I slowly start warming to the thought.

This isn’t some abnormal thing, it’s probably fairly common with children of divorcees. I hate thinking of that word, I hate that it applies to me and I hate even more that it includes her. Another broken family, nothing new─ welcome to America. Suddenly my lunch turns sour in my stomach and I’m unsure if it will stay put. I put on my best reassuring voice, the kind I use with my own mother, “Let me have a chat with her tonight and see what’s really going on.” I hear Mrs. Smith shift again and then a sigh, “See that you do, Mr. Holloway. Dr. Norris thinks that transferring her to a different class would be helpful as well. Children can be quite judgmental, as I’m sure you know. It may be good for a fresh start.” I bristle but the anger gives way to weariness. She’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. It would probably help ease her into the school year. I nod before answering, “I think that would be for the best. You have my permission.” She’s smiling as she says the next part, I can hear it in her voice. It’s forced, but I know it’s out of sheer politeness, she wants me to feel at ease. “I think that’s wise of you, Mr. Holloway. We’ll need you to fill out a transfer file, but we can send it via email. Just be sure to sign it before tomorrow.” “Thank you,” I say, quick to be done with this conversation. “Of course,” she says, then adds “and it’s a real shame to hear about all of your struggles. I hope it gets better for the two of you.” I awkwardly mumble a thank you and then hang up.

#

Karis is all smiles as she rushes up to the car. The crossing guard calls out for her to slow down, but she’s already at the passenger door. I wave and mouth sorry to the portly, scowling woman. She nods curtly, red-faced and then turns back to her duties, guiding the others across. “Daddy!” she gushes as she hops in the front seat. Her bag gets tossed and she reaches for her seat belt. “Let’s go home, I want to play VR!” I laugh at her eagerness. I’m ready to celebrate too, another end to a long work day.

Less than ten minutes later, we’re home dropping our things by the front door. That’s future us’s problem. I adjust the visor and goggles to her small head and then step back, knowing that she’s about to tear up the room on Beat Saber. I shake my head as she starts her latest pop obsession, really getting into the dance. Girl’s got some moves, just like her mama. Then I think about that and frown. I silently send out a warning to any and all potential suitors with a death threat so vile Fidel Castro would cringe at its savagery. I used to feel that way about anyone that looked at Jenna when she rocked Dance Dance Revolution at the mall arcade.

After dinner, I tell Karis to go brush her teeth and change into her jammies. I’ve avoided it all day, but it’s time for the chat. I know it’s probably normal so I make a mental note to not be overly serious, but enough that I get my point across. No one ever tells you about this part of divorce─ the ugly parts where you have to accept and understand how your child processes the inevitable change.

“I’m ready for my story, daddy!” she calls from her room down the hall.

#

“Karis, stop it.” I snap. Her green eyes are brimming with tears as she shakes her head at me. “No. Mommy was there, in class with me. No one else saw her, but she was there.” I let out a long sigh and squeeze the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. I thought for sure this would play out way easier in real life─ how naive of me. I really want to be an adult about it, but in the end, my tiredness wins. I try a different approach, a more human one, “honey, I know today was tough and we’re going to have a lot of those, but I need you to be honest with me right now. Was mommy really there today, or did you just pretend like she was there?” Her chin raises and she squares up to me, “I am not a liar-liar pants on fire, daddy.” She crosses her arms in a huff and turns toward the wall, her little jaw trembling but held firm. I have to stifle a laugh by moving my hand over my mouth. The only time she ever gets this worked up is when she believes in what she is saying.

This is her truth, and while I don’t believe that her mom was actually there, I know that Karis believes it. After a few moments, I speak carefully, “Sometimes, when we get upset we see things. Things that aren’t really there.” Her shoulders stiffen and she still won’t look at me, but I sense a hesitance. “Daddy, Mama was there.” Her words are so soft, they almost come out a whisper. “Why won’t you believe me? I saw her.” Little droplets spill down her face as she presses her eyes together. I wince as she starts ugly crying, the kind that sends her whole body into shakes, and snot dripping down her mouth and chin. “Shh, shh,” I say, running my fingers across her back. I stand briefly, grab the box of tissues from her desk and then offer them to her. She grabs a handful and blows noisily into them. “I swear,” she says between sniffles, “I’m not making it up. I don’t know why, but no one could see her but me.” The last sentence seems to calm her and she relaxes, finally able to get it all out.

Poor girl. I continue to massage her back as she lays down under the covers. I draw them up to her chin and then tuck in the sides cocooning her the way she likes it. I massage her back until her breathing comes out heavy. I stroke her hair, then bend down and kiss her forehead, “I love you, bunny.” I whisper. She still smells like she did as a baby, that faint hint of baby powder and lotions and some unknown floral scent that has stuck with her for years. It’s that scent of youth, indescribable yet everyone knows what you mean.

#

I’m in bed when I hear the sound. The t.v. is up loud, so I tap the mute button and listen. The only sound is the wind outside rustling the grass next to my window. There’s a few creaks and pops, the house bending in the unforgiving September winds. I exhale and press the button. I jump as the movie blares into my room and I quickly turn it down. Apparently, I’ve been listening to it much louder than I thought. The main character is jumping into oncoming traffic, guns and car horns blaring. Finally some action. I’m tensing and balling my hands into fists as the bad guys squeal next to Detective Peterson. You got this, I scream mentally. He makes a quick decision and then he’s down a dark alleyway, the bad guys zoom past, losing him. Yes, I think, pounding my hands on the comforter. The detective gets out of his car and makes a call to the local PD. He’s one of those traditional grizzled types weathered from a career of seeing too much of humanity’s bad side. He lights up, and exhales a large puff of smoke when I hear something again. It’s almost perfectly timed to the scraping noise the detective hears in the dark alley. This is no movie sound, it’s here─ in my home.

It sounds closer this time and I can make out new details. Before it sounded like tapping, or a crinkling bag. Sometimes Karis sneaks out of bed for a cookie or some chips. My room is located right across from the kitchen and living room. So I’ve almost always caught her. The back door is attached to the breakfast area, it’s a design for parents to be able and keep an eye on their children in the backyard while they cook. We haven’t gotten a puppy yet, but there is a dog door installed. Recently Karis has been asking for a dog and admittedly, I would welcome anything to keep me company. Especially tonight. I frown as I hear it again. It’s a wet noise, like dripping onto my tile floors. Annoyed, I pause the movie. The sound stops. I’m probably just tired, I reason. It’s the wind or maybe it’s starting to rain outside. A couple of beats pass and I’m starting to doubt myself again when there is suddenly a few more droplets, and then it’s pouring rain.

It’s nearly three in the morning when my phone goes off. I jump at the invasive jingle. Light spills into the room, bathing everything in a dull, green hue. I know it’s a text, I’ve disabled all of my email alerts and all the other crap alerts that come with apps these days. It was a text, or a voicemail. And since the ringtone never went off, I know it has to be the former. There’s only one person that would be texting me this late. A lump forms in my throat as I reach for the phone. It jingles a few more times and vibrates in my hand. What on earth? I wonder. I stare at the name on my phone, shaking as I swipe at the lock screen. It’s her. I stare up at the repeated message as it continues to fill the message screen, over and over:

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m─

“Daddy?” I let out a howl and the phone drops from my hands and onto the floor. It makes a loud clack and then slides to the wall under my window. Karis jumps and screams, scared and confused at my outburst. She pauses as I quiet and then bawls. I sigh in relief. “Karis, honey I’m sorry, you scared Daddy.” She continues to cry but walks toward my bed. “I’m scared,” she moans, “there was a monster in my room.” I pat the bad and wave her over. ” Now, baby, there’s no such thing as monsters.” She cries harder and wails, “There is so, and it was in my room.” she’s almost as hysterical as she was when I yelled. I look at the bright red lights on my alarm clock, 2:45 a.m. Best to just let her sleep in here or neither of us will get a wink. “Alright, alright” I say gruffly, “Come on up then.” She pulls herself onto the bed and dives beneath the covers. Karis’s tears dry up instantly in that annoying ability that all kids tend to have when they get their way. I shake my head as I get out of bed and scoop my phone up from the floor. The jingling has stopped, but the message has not changed─ just a few more of the same thing, I’m sorry.

I’m not sure how to respond. Is she sending this out of guilt? It was the same thing she had said last night before she left. Is she apologizing for missing Karis’s first day? That has to be it. Jenna probably just got off her shift and sent a message in a dead zone. Sometimes it takes a while for a message to send so it stores it until you hit an area with signal. It probably just sent a bunch after an attempt to send it the first time it didn’t go through. My gut reaction is to attack her, ask her what she was thinking, not even bothering to send me a text, or at least call. Even if she had to work overtime, she could have let me know─ something.

I take a few breaths, steadying myself. No, maybe something happened. Jenna isn’t the sort to make up excuses, that is one thing I know for sure. Finally, I send: is everything OK? I expect the response to come later, but one comes immediately: come find me. I stare at the message for a while. Is she standing outside of the house? I sneak out of bed and look down at Karis. She’s fast asleep, her head tilted back and mouth hanging open. I’m not sure what is going on, but I know it has to be serious since Jen is at my house at three in the morning. Not that her being awake at that hour is odd, just that she is here. She normally waits until at least six to call or message. I slip out of my room and turn toward the front door. I grip my sides as I walk across the cool tiles. The rain really dropped the temperature outside.

My teeth are chattering as I pull on the front door. My feet hit the cold porch and I’m tempted to go back inside. It’s absolutely freezing. When did it get this cold? I walk down the covered path and turn to the driveway. Her car isn’t here. I look up and down the street to see if maybe she parked further down. The only thing visible on the street is the streetlight three houses down. The wind picks up and I shiver, running my hands up and down my arms. My body is shaking uncontrollably. I’m not sure if it’s from the cold, or the sudden urge to run back inside and lock the door. My phone goes off again in my pocket, it sounds small and thin in the approaching storm.

Confused, I pull it from my pocket.

Come find me

Come find me

Come find me

Come find me

Come find me

Come find me

Come find me

Come find me

Come find me

Come─

A scream fills the house. The blood drains from my face as I spin on my heels and charge through the front door. It’s Karis, I know that scream anywhere. It’s the same one she does when she falls or hurts herself. I’m nearly to my room when the shadows bend toward the back window in the living room. They jerk, twist upward and tower over me. I stare at the dark swirl in awe. Not shadows, I realize. It’s more of an ooze. A moment of insanity takes hold of me and I reach out, extending my fingers. I should run, I should scream─ but what good would that do? If I am going to die to it, I want to know if it’s tangible. Perhaps this is a dream, I convince myself, some vision my brain has concocted from the film earlier. I frown. No, that can’t be right because there was nothing like it. Only people. This isn’t a person.   

I take one step. Then, another. It’s staring at me. I say stare not because it has eyes, but because I can feel it. I know it’s looking at me. It’s crazy, I realize, but it’s the only way I can describe what I’m sensing. I’m five feet from it, maybe less and it’s taller than I realized. It’s nearly to my ceiling. I stop as a streak of white light screams across it and branches in several directions. It almost reminds me of…“Lightning” I murmur out loud. It lurches away from me, diving toward the back door. My voice must have startled it. I hear the dog door crash open and the thing pushes its way through. It makes the same sound that a bathtub does when the last of the water drains out. Almost a suction noise.    

I want to move, but I can’t. I’m shaking all over. I want to say that I am completely in control and I have convinced myself that I’m simply tired. That the noises are the rain outside and what I just saw is the result of stress and sleep deprivation. Deep down, I know this is a lie. A smaller scream comes from my room, more of a scared whimper. Karis. My feet finally cooperate and I’m in my room. Karis is pressed against the headboard, the covers drawn all the way up to her chin. Her eyes are bulging, stuck wide open. I flick on the light and scan the room. Whatever that…thing was has left but it’s not going to stop me from searching the entire room. Now gaining some courage, I drop to my belly and scan under the bed.

If there was something here before, it is gone now. I know it to be true. Whatever it was left earlier through the back door. I stand and look down at Karis, my voice comes out heavy, tired, “was that the one?” She blinks at me a few times, her eyebrows pressed together in confusion. “What do you mean, daddy?” she whispers. “Was that the monster in your room?” A heavy silence fills the room and Karis’s lips quiver. Her teeth start to chatter. Suddenly, I don’t want to know the answer. I just want to lie in bed and close my eyes.  I want to dream of simpler times when it was Jenna, Karis, and me against the world. I want to forget that any of this has happened. I glance at my phone and check my messages again. I frown at the phone, close my messages and then re-open them. I try it once again, and then a third time before finally closing them for good.

The messages from when I was outside are gone. All of them are except for a single: I’m sorry.

Maybe it’s best if we just call it a night. We were both upset, the storm caused the sounds, I reason. Tricks from the lightning outside had created a shadow. Yes, that must have been it. I reach over and switch on the lamp. Then I walk to the other side of the room and turn off the overhead light. Karis hasn’t answered, but she is watching my every move. I curl up next to her and pull her into my arms. She rests her head between my chest and shoulder. I can tell the exact moment that she falls asleep. Karis’s breathing deepens and her body goes limp.

I stare up at the ceiling hoping, praying that all of this is a nightmare. I’m frightened to sleep, but it finds me anyway. The last of my thoughts drift to Jenna’s warm eyes and kind smile.

Part II coming soon. xoxo

Gallery

Vengeance Part 2 – An Action Adventure

Audiobook version

(NSFW!)

Part three is coming next week!

I stand inches from the yellow line, my arms to the side with my eyes pressed shut. The blending of music, voices, and people around me slowly filter out as I concentrate. The cool air gently tosses my hair to the side and the wind caresses my neck. It is the only thing I keep exposed for the air to reach. The familiar rumble echoes and the wind drives itself forward. I breathe in as the rush of wind slaps my face. A fraction of a second passes and I feel the large body of the train scream past. I thrust open my eyes as the blurs of images flood my vision little flashes of the people sitting inside on the train. I can catch people throwing glances here and there on the platform, hesitant to get near me but I stare forward and keep to myself. The screech erupts and the train comes to a halt. Two years. It had been an entire two years since I left the burning remains of my life behind. The crumpled paper stays in my wallet with the neatly typed address. I have not forgotten what I need to do I rode to our home a while ago just to make sure it had been real. Every bit of it was, only now there was a new family living in our home. The scar, one of the few reminders of our growing child, has almost completely disappeared. All that’s left of it is a thread-sized mark across my gut. The doors open to the train, and I step on and sit in the seat closest to the doors.

A man coughs a few seats down and I glance over. I have seen him a handful of times over the last few months always on the J, always at the Broadway junction. It seems like it has been getting more frequent lately. He is an odd sort keeps to himself. I follow him from time to time to make sure he is no one to be concerned over. He is two blocks east of me and lives above a local coffee shop off Bedford. He’s tall, attractive, around his early thirties with dark hair. I never trust anyone and I don’t keep friends. It was my one rule. But over the past several months, I feel as if we share a life. It is sick way to think, but I find myself drawn to him. Each day, he goes through the routine of running before 6 a.m. I follow, but carefully so he does not notice me. I guess I use him as a testament to my own shadowing skills. That isn’t true, and I know it, but it’s what I’m comfortable admitting to myself. On Wednesday nights he volunteers with kids to teach them hockey, and on Thursdays, he plays with a small team himself. He is a simple man, I like that. Always walks to the local bars on Friday or Saturday, and the movies on Sunday. Somehow I feel comfortable watching someone else live normally. A guilty pleasure I really shouldn’t take time out of my training to do.

My apartment isn’t much. It’s a small loft on the west side of Brooklyn, but I keep it clean. Workouts are every single day. I do cardio and core daily, no excuses, and weight training four times a week alternating legs and arms. Three of those days are dedicated to Krav Maga and Jiu-jitsu. It is not cheap. However, money is of no concern. I am taken care of by the Demon’s contract. But appearances are important, so I work at the corner store a few times a week. The owner hired me based off of looks that much I knew. It’s simple. I tell him I moved here after my family died. I didn’t tell him how, or why. But Don doesn’t care, as long as I get the work done and I don’t complain about the pay it’s a perfect employee and employer understanding.

At first, I wasn’t sure how it all worked. How was I going to get my revenge if I didn’t have the slightest clue on how to defend myself? How would I survive? Sure, there was life insurance from Tristan but I couldn’t take that. The second I did, they would all know where I am. I’m not an idiot, and quite sure they kept tabs on me when I was in the hospital. Now that I went missing, I’m sure Ty ramped up his security. Of course, that had happened almost two years ago. My hope is that Ty has assumed I fled for my life. I’m hoping that his arrogance will blind him to my arrival. I slip my hand beneath my coat and finger the gun. I have to go through a great deal to keep them hidden, my frame is lithe.

Marcy Avenue,” the conductor says briefly. Startled I look up, not realizing I have already gone through eight stops. I stand as the train jerked hard to a full stop, noticing a few people stumble that isn’t holding on well. I crack a smile, remembering that’s how it was the first few times for me before I got a feel for them. It disappears when I notice that the guy has drawn his attention to me. He isn’t hiding the fact that he’s staring. The doors open on our stop and he stands. I quickly step out onto the platform.

Hey.” I pretend I don’t hear him as I hurry through the door that leads out onto the street. I get all the way to the light when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Shit. I spin around and look up at him. He’s a tall fucker. I guess I never realized it staying at more of a distance. He’s at least 6’3” probably closer to 6’4”. I bristle, waiting for the inevitable questions and glancing around to see my escape options. I should have bolted.

Hey, hold up. You in some kind of a rush?” Ok. Well, didn’t expect that one. Not, ‘why are you following me? Or─ ‘why are you being a weirdo?’ His voice is nice, pleasant. He is obviously native to New York, but it isn’t a thick accent.

I feign surprise and raise my voice an octave. “I’m sorry?” I say. He releases his grip from my shoulder immediately and brings it up to behind his head. He almost looks embarrassed. I relax a little, seeing that his demeanor has changed. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking at the ground. “Didn’t mean to grab you like that. You dropped your wallet.” I look down at the thin black leather in his hand and reach my hand out. “Oh, thanks. It must have fallen out of my pocket.” He hands it to me and I turn to leave. “Near the corner store, right?” I turn toward him. “What?” I ask. “You live about three blocks west of the Jewish community.” I level my gaze and keep my voice pleasant. “Yeah, you nearby?” He seems really awkward but sure of himself at the same time. My initial assessment wasn’t far off. “Yeah, seen you around. You work at the corner store, yeah? I walk over there a few times a week with the guys.” I know, I think to myself, I’ve seen you and thought I hid well. He must have caught me on a night off walking home.

Damn it, I’m slipping. “Oh, yeah, yeah” I chuckle nervously to sound relieved, “yeah, I moved here not that long ago. Still getting used to everything.” His eyes are soft, a nice brown. His shoulders are finally relaxing. I must have set him on edge earlier when I spun around. My eyes quickly flick to his pants and shirt, nothing hidden doesn’t seem to be a threat. “Hey, you you take care of yourself out here. It’s no place for a lady to walk alone at night.” My mouth involuntarily twitches upward into a half smile. If only you knew how backward that is. I’m who other people have to worry about. But, some time ago he would have been dead-on. “I’m alright,” I offer, “it’s a quiet place, nicer than some places I’ve lived.” His head cocks a little and he smiles, “yeah, it’s a step up for me too. You got someone to walk you home?” I knew what he was asking. It was a way to ask if I was seeing anyone. Don’t do it, moron. You can’t get involved. “No, just me.” Shit. What the hell was that? Why did I just say that? And then I felt it. Don’t you fucking “You?” and I say it. I just asked it. He laughs. “Walk me home? Ha. Not since I was a kid. I can take care of myself.” No, you can’t, I think, no one can. Especially from people like Ty or Daemon.

I suddenly feel incredibly guilty. What is this? Your family dies two years ago and you’re already looking at some guy? I explore my feelings. And realize something. I can’t feel it. I can’t even hardly remember my boy’s face. I’m starting to panic. Blonde, his hair was blonde. Tristan, my husband, his eyes were brown. Yes. Brown like this man. Soft and hardened at the same time. Hardened from years of war in Afghanistan. He’d only been out for a few years. Our child was hung after beaten to death from our porch. The porch that our families built. And my belly holds the faint scars of my unborn son. I feel the switch instantly. Harden the fuck up this isn’t why you’re here. He senses the shift and inclines his head, “hey, you good?” I glance up at him and nod, “yeah, I’m good. You take care of yourself.” I don’t give him a chance to respond before heading down the south alley that will take me directly to my place.

I kick myself mentally. That was fucking stupid. Why did I talk to him? I don’t know shit about that asshole. He could be part of it for all I know. I relent as I take a right down toward the west side. I needed to make a stop. You’ve been watching him for months, there’s no way he’s with them. Or maybe that’s what he was put here for. Who the fuck notices me? I always keep to myself, was damn good at it. It was amazing how much I’d changed in just two years. I would have never thought this way or spoke half as crude, but funny thing death changes people. I wasn’t even sure that I was completely alive, it’s not like I needed air to breathe. It got me curious, I often wonder if I even bleed anymore. I should check that out at some point. I make a note to myself to stop being a moron and steer clear of whoever this new guy is. Time doesn’t matter. Your life ended at gunpoint two years ago, and those same pieces of shit practically ran half of the country. Where was their payment for their crimes where was my justice? I don’t give a shit how pointless it is or what it mattered, but somehow I would win. After all, I’m the one with unlimited time on my side.

– –

Shit. 20 feet. I dodge him and duck into the corner as I watch him look around the train. I was going to be late for my shift, but I can’t chance another interaction with him. He has some sort of weird effect on me and I can’t have that. I sigh as I watch the train pull away and casually walk over to a bench. I’ll just park my ass here until the 7:10 shows. I’ll need to stay near, but not too close. I aimed to find out more about my gentleman caller before making a real choice. Whoa. Choice? A choice about what, exactly? I jumped on the eastbound train toward Brooklyn, trying to shake the thoughts. Forget about the John, Viv. He’s just some rando. Yeah, but a damn good looking one. When was the last time you let a man touch you? Damn it brain whose side are you on, anyway? Jesus, I fight and gain traction, maybe hobo Frank could tell me more about Lily. I’d just visited this morning to check in on Lily, see how she was doing. All was good, thank god. F was one of the few people I felt I could trust. I’d followed him for weeks, several days a week. His routine was always the same, wake up from the alley, work some labor jobs and then head ‘home’. He was old, maybe in his late sixties with a limp. I never saw any track marks, but I did see him drink a little too much for his own good. His liver was probably shot. Then again, he didn’t have much else going on. I don’t blame him. My moving here isn’t entirely a retreat. I have my motives. I was told that I could never talk to anyone that knew me, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t check in from time to time and see how she is doing. Lily had moved here after my ‘death’ and her final graduation. A doctorate. God, I am so proud of her. She never stops moving. Needless to say Frank was more than happy to offer his help when I offered him a working man’s salary to keep tabs on her. Maybe both our luck would change for once, poor bastard. I switch over to the other train, keeping my head down. No sense in drawing any more attention from people, it was best this way.

The subway was busier than usual today normally it died down after 9:30. I hear mumbling and catch a more interesting bit from two guys, “you hear about the company this morning?” His voice was higher pitched and slightly grating in a nasally way. His friend looks over at him, his voice is rich and low with a thick northeastern accent, “What, the new CEO?” the other one chimes in, overlapping “yeah, yeah that but about how he got it?” I keep a casual pace behind them, listening in. “What about it? So, Ty took over, and China has cheap goods, what else is new?” Nasally guy sighs, “yeah, that part but they just released it online less than a few minutes ago.” Rumbles sounds indignant, “well, you going to keep me on pins and needles or what?” Nasally chuckles and leans in, “word is that Daemon was offed.” I struggle to steady my breathing and try and keep my casual pace. The two stop in front of me and I slow my steps as I walk past to sit on the bench. Rumbles lowers his voice, I have to strain but make it out, “yeah? Means there’ll be a spot open” he says. His meaty head is working. I can hear the greed from ten feet away. Nasally sounds guarded, “Well, yeah I guess. But, it will go to whoever’s next in line. You know that.” Rumbles doesn’t bother to hide his next sentence and I get up as I see my train arriving, “Seems things might be changing. Who knows?” I grab my phone pose, and pretend to take a few selfies. Then quickly run to the train before it takes off.

Hopefully, I managed at least one face shot before leaving. I couldn’t believe my luck. Ty’s guys, right here. Then my heart drops. If they are here, does Ty know? Shit, shit, shit. Ok, calm down. Maybe it was just a coincidence. He couldn’t possibly know where I am. I wasn’t on social media at all. I didn’t even allow Don to snap pics of me at work. Could they possibly know where I am? Then my mind shoots to Lily. Could Ty finally be making good on his promise? The first six months had been hell, constantly watching her or paying hobo Frank to snap photos and send them to me. I chuckle to myself. I really should call him something else, he’s since gotten himself a decent apartment and a cat. Guy had really turned himself around and started painting real beautiful stuff, mostly portraits or cityscapes. Still drank too much, but hell at least he had a roof over his head. After a year I started thinking Ty just mentioned Lily to mess with me. Even now, two years later I still call or have F go by her place a few times a month to check on her. I need to find Ty, this was my chance. I go through my phone’s gallery, my hands are shaking and so cold the touch screen is delayed in reacting but I finally get it to open. The first picture is nothing but blurry and a disappointment, I panic as I flip to the next and it’s just a picture of me and the ceiling. Great shot of your nose hairs, dip shit. I hope to hell that I was able to at least get one, just one even if it was blurry. The next one is me smiling and a person walking behind me, shielding the two. I’m flipping through furiously, hoping that the quick snap function had taken more than I anticipated. Thank god for shortcuts. I’m about to give up and then freeze. There. There they are. I tap the screen and zoom in on their faces. They were exactly like their voices sounded. Rumbles is broad and heavy set. His eyes are hard to make out, but even from the photo, I can see that they are a smidge too close together. His nose was broad and crooked it had definitely been broken before. I close my eyes, trying to recall everything in the limited time that I had. What was that smell? Her grandfather had worn the same scent, my eyes flash open. Drakkar. I’d know it anywhere. That was rare is it still being sold these days? It wasn’t just Drakkar it was something else. Something very familiar. And then it came to me. I didn’t want it to, because along with it came hurt. Gunpowder. Not just gunpowder, but the stench of flesh and gunpowder. Rumbles had killed someone that morning. I was up close and personal with that scent, twice. How had the nasally guy not smelled it? Maybe this was another one of my abilities, I reason. It could be possible, after all, it’s not like I’m completely aware of everything that I can do. Focus, girl. What else? My eyes flick over to nasally. He’s taller than rumbles, by at least a foot. He’s thin but solid. He’d be handsome if it weren’t for his odd weak chin and slightly too large nose. Still, he had an odd sense of charm about him. I have a feeling nasally doesn’t struggle with the ladies. I squint as the picture starts to blur at my zooming in. It’s hard to tell what color his eyes are, but they look dark. Possibly brown. Both were fair skinned, but rumbles was a little more on the ruddy skin tone and flushed. Nasally looked more olive and smooth. I save the picture and delete the rest. I smile as the train grinds to a halt a lead, a real, solid lead. This was more than I hoped for, it was proof that not only was Ty still around, he was close.

– – –

“You’re late,” Don complains. I wince and look up at him. “I know, Don, I’m sorry. Missed the train this morning and had to catch the 7:10.” He grunts and points to the back, “yeah, whatever just go get your apron.” I sigh and hurry to the back. I was shocked that he didn’t ask why I was even on the train. I lived less than a few blocks away. “You’re a good girl, never late. Just, don’t let it happen again, eh?” he calls back to me. “Why are you still here?” I yell, “go home to Bev, she’ll be worried.” I can hear his smile as I pull the apron over my head. “Ha. You’re right about that. Got hell to pay when I get home, haven’t gotten a single call or text in hours. Not like her,” he pauses, “unless she’s angry.” My smile drops and I walk out to join him behind the register. “Hey, you should call her,” I say. He shakes his head and laughs, “nothing to worry about. That’s just Bev, ya know? Best I just come home and explain what happened.” I smile and chuckle nervously. “Alright,” I say. He grabs his keys and heads for the door. Something doesn’t feel right. “Don.” He pauses and looks over at me, “Yeah?” “It’s probably nothing, but, just let me know you made it and everything’s alright with Bev.” He shakes his head, “You women, you all worry too much.” He sighs and waves his hands when I scowl at him. “Alright, alright. Che-zus, between you and the old lady I feel like I’m on prison watch.” I smile as he mutters to himself and walks outside. I look up when the doorbell goes off again. “Oh, and Cheryl?” I winced inwardly at the fake name. I really hated deceiving the old man but had to do what was needed. Vivian wasn’t as common as it used to be, was kind of old school. “Yeah?” I ask. “Feel free to eat whatever you want. You’re looking a little thin.” He walks out and then leans back in again, the door held open by his food. “Oh and uh, if no one comes in after ten, just shut down.” I grin and shoo him out, “Yes, yes. Now go! I’ve kept you long enough.” He grunts and walks out. I’m really getting fond of that old coot. I look at my reflection from the mirror behind the register. It’s pretty skewed, but even from this angle, I can tell I’ve lost weight. When was the last time I had eaten? I guess even the dead need food.

– –

I frown as I turn the key, and then jiggle the door to make sure it is secure. I pull out my phone and stare at the empty screen. Not a word from Don all day. Maybe I should run by his place, make sure he’s alright. The trains wouldn’t be running this late, I’d have to Uber or get a taxi. I start to open my app when a police cruiser pulls up to the sidewalk. I look up as he rolls down his window. “You Cheryl?” I nod my head, “Yes sir. What’s going on?” The cop kills the engine and opens his door. He’s tall, it takes him a second to get out. I take the opportunity and glance up and down the street. Not a soul in sight. Could this be one of Ty’s men? I tense, preparing for the worst. He leans on his car and looks at me. “Kind of late to be closing up shop, isn’t it?” I smile and walk toward the car, “Actually, it’s early. Don likes to keep the place open for a few─” I freeze mid-sentence. It’s him. Of all the stupid why had I not followed him to work? You goddamn moron. I’m hung on that last sentence, staring across at this familiar stranger. He smiles and scratches the back of his head. It is the same awkward motion I saw the other morning. “Hey,” he says shyly, “sorry to catch you at a weird time. I, uh, I was actually patrolling the area when dispatch called to come talk with you.” I didn’t buy it, not completely. Was this a trick? Somehow a way for Ty to make me think this guy is my friend? Maybe they have found me out. Shit. I try not to show my panic as I hedge closer to the building. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Hey,” I say and laugh, “sorry, hard to see in this light.” He smiles and looks up and down the street. “Hey, uh, sorry to come at you with this but we got a call today from Don’s wife, Beverly. You know her?” “Yeah, Bev? I’ve known her for almost two years now. What’s this about?” I ask. He can’t seem to meet my eyes, and I know. The worst is coming. “Don didn’t make it home today.” The keys drop from my hand. My hands shoot up to my face and over my mouth. I’m thankful for the dark. He would think it odd that I am unable to shed a tear. A side effect of being dead, I have gathered. He hesitates and then continues, “Listen, Bev’s in a bad state. The only reason I’m here is she can’t tell you herself.” My head shakes back and forth. It’s odd pretending to be so upset. After my death, I’m not able to feel as strongly as I used to. It isn’t entirely faked, Don was a real stand-up guy and Bev was one of the sweetest women that I knew. I cringe, realizing that I’m already thinking of them in the past tense.

Despite their ten year age difference, the two of them seemed exactly the same age and always so giving never asking too many questions. I’m going to miss them both. I know the truth, neither one of them will make it.

It’s a sobering moment. There was more than likely only one reason why they were attacked. Ty’s men were very thorough. Question is who told them? The guys from the train hell, maybe even this guy. Not like I knew everything about him. Stupid girl, letting your emotions blind you. I stare at him openly as I pretend to take deep breaths. Finally, I ask, “Where’s Bev? Anyone there for her right now?” He stares back, his eyes trailing down to my lips. He’s not portraying the typical movements of someone like Ty, he almost looks oh shit. He finds me attractive right now. Especially since I’m vulnerable, I know that look anywhere. It was the same look Tristan gave me on our third date. I’d fallen down in the ice rink and managed to bust open my lip. He had helped me through the whole thing, even asked the guys for the first aid kit. The soft browns that looked at me as they patched me up, were the exact same as the ones looking at me now. Honest concerned. This man is not one of his lackey’s. I could sense it, almost like a human lie detector. It was something that I picked up after I died. He isn’t sweating or twitching, and there are no overly-controlled movements. He clears his throat, “uh, Bev is at Saint Luke’s.” “Saint Luke’s? But Bev and Don live in─” “Brooklyn, yeah I know,” he says, “Bev was out shopping in Manhattan this morning.” That doesn’t seem like her at all, especially on Don’s salary. Bev was always extremely cautious with their money, especially since they were a few years away from retiring. Now I know something’s wrong.

He notices I’m thinking. “You know, I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something different about you.” I look up at him, his statement catching me off-guard. I don’t answer for a while, instead turning my gaze to the sidewalk behind him. The street is still oddly quiet, even for a weekday. Maybe the world knew something that I didn’t, some unknown force keeping people locked up in their homes safe and warm. I look back at him and smile, “you think you can give me a ride to Saint Luke’s?” He mirrors my smile and walks over to open the door, “Yeah sure, my shift ended an hour ago. I’ll call it in.”

– – –

You want some coffee?” he asks as we sit waiting. The drive hadn’t been too bad, we’d mostly talked about how funny Don was, or how doting Bev could be. I knew that a lot of regulars came into the store, but I never realized how many people knew them. I didn’t call out the cop on his discrepancy earlier. He mentioned his shift was up, but that dispatch had called him in. So, he’d done it on his time off. There was definitely more to this. “No, I’m good. Thanks, Logan.” I say as he gets up. I’d only just learned his name─ it was a bit awkward saying it. I hated to admit this but it felt good talking to someone about anything. Intensive care─ I knew that it would be bad. I’m honestly surprised that Bev is still alive. Not Ty’s usual MO.

In other news, NC Global said goodbye to a long-time partner today. Founder and CEO Robert Daemon, who was tragically murdered last week in his summer home in Malibu, was finally laid to rest this morning next to his father in Sacred Heart. There are no confirmations on who will be taking his place, as this is an emotional time for everyone that knew Robert and worked alongside him.

The screen switches to people talking about how giving Daemon was, and a few statements from the police. I’m about to look away when he appears on the screen. I stand, walking over to the screen. That same goddamned sneer is stuck on his face. Most people looking at him would have seen someone that sounded sincere and professional, profusely vomiting up lies like it was the truth. I feel my body shudder and burn hot with rage. I’m instantly back at the construction site and he’s hovering over me placing my hair in his mouth and swirling it like a fine wine, the gun pressed to my skull, my entire life over in seconds and the piece of shit had the nerve to just go on living. How many men have you murdered? How many lives have you destroyed? I grab the screen, my fingers digging in and bending the metal on the sides. I hear a few gasps and freeze as a pair of hands wrap my body from behind.

Whoa, whoa. Cheryl, what the hell is going on?” I relax at the voice, it’s Logan. The metal crunches as I let it go and turn toward the waiting area. The entire room is silent as it stares at me. Even the children have quieted. I have to get out and before I know what’s happening, my feet have found the pavement outside and I’m running at full speed.

Shit.

What did I do? What did I fucking do? My mind is racing faster than my legs as I jet east toward the Brooklyn Bridge. Why did I go to visit her? If it is Ty, they would have planted someone there after all this time, all of my hard work and training gone in seconds. Think, I scream at myself, was there any familiar face? My mind goes back to the flash of people’s faces staring wide-eyed at me. Look for something anything. I cross the bridge and turn slightly more South and then East on Fulton. I focus all my energy trying to remember any one person looking different in the emergency room. On the right, there was a family a young girl with her brother next to the toy station, their mother and grandparents all surprised. The middle, there is a teenage girl, her face busted up, her phone dropping to the ground, in the back I remember an elderly woman, a napkin wrapped over her mouth that’s been stained with a dark liquid, probably coffee. No, I yell internally, not it. Then my mind dredges up what I’ve feared the most. There he is Nasally. He’s staring at me, not with surprise but curiosity. He is wearing a jacket, his dark hair matted on one side with blood, his fingers clasped around a phone that he’s holding up. I halt as I finally turn down Bedford and reach the corner store. He was filming me. It is over, Ty knows.

 

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Why I’m no longer on Twitch and other updates

So, most of you by now have realized that I am no longer on Twitch. I started off Tuesday – Sunday 8 hours a day, then that switched to 6 hours a day until ultimately I stopped streaming. It wasn’t something that came easy, I was conflicted over it for a while.

Until the first week went by.

And then the second, and third.

I was noticing significant changes in my life. For the 8 months I streamed, I never really realized how much it affected me. I was becoming impatient, moody, and constantly irritable.

I’m naturally quiet, having to talk and be entertaining for 6-8 hours a day 6 days a week was insane. I am certainly not built for this silly inane chatter that is apparently entertaining to people.

The only saving grace is the people that visit your channel. The ones that sit and chat with you every day and support you. It becomes a lovely comfort to the savage, undercutting behavior that is other streamers. I mean every word of that, and I will have the grace to not mention names of said individuals out of respect for their profession. Yes, even the nice ones. They are businessmen/women and you are a tool for them to use to inflate their own numbers.

This, also depressed me. Realizing the artificial nature of people’s seemingly ‘nice’ behavior.

The biggest issue for me was I felt that I was underutilizing my brain. Sitting there for hours on end, not learning anything or accomplishing anything and having people give me money for sitting there, talking to a computer screen.  Granted, there are people watching─ but not really. This depressed me further still. I was background noise to someone at work. This is how Twitch and live shows work. But, the fact that it’s background noise wasn’t a huge issue at the same time that it was. I realized I am broadcasting during someone’s workday, it’s to be expected.

Then there was the inevitable issue with me being female. (I know, I sighed openly too. I hate typing that sort of shit) It’s the same struggle that I have to deal with as a creator and writer. People would come into my channel and want to chat, but they didn’t ask me questions about the game, or game mechanics─ they asked me over-simplified questions about how I was enjoying it. Even when I went into detail about guns, elements, trap designs, game mechanics─ I wasn’t engaged until I was being a stupid person making dumb comments about random shit. Which again, in a nutshell, is what people want on Twitch. Average viewer age on my channel was somewhere between 12 – 23 until after 6 p.m. Again, normal but awful, and something I didn’t enjoy.

I’m a researcher, a writer, and a scientist. I don’t want to be viewed as some cam girl begging for money to play video games. Because, let’s be honest, that’s what 90% of the damn women do in that community.

I left for quite some time to get my head straight. This wasn’t what I wanted to do. I enjoyed writing, researching, creating shows and podcasts and audiobooks. I love games, but it’s a sacred time for me. A time to relax and really enjoy the game. Doing this every day was just leaving a bitter taste in my mouth to the entire thing. Then, there’s the overwhelming issue of everything you are expected to do as a streamer. It. was. ridiculous. and I constantly felt overwhelmed. I had so much to do each day before I streamed, constant things I had to read about the community, OBS, video editing, bots on bots on bots, use THIS music, no no use THAT music program, it’s better. Constant bickering and fighting in my channel, several unwanted comments, and private messages─ It was a mess.

And I will never, ever, go back to that again.

What I will go back to, is doing the things that make me excited and happy to be alive. No matter who or what is watching. I love to write, I love learning, and mostly─ I like doing it on my own time.

What you will see is my YouTube channel flourish with specials, new audio stories, books, short stories, and podcasts. I’m not gone, I’m just in a happier place.

(p.s. Vengeance is 3/5 completed, you’ll have the ending soon! Oh, and a collection of short stories available on Amazon soon. :3)

─ Grey ❤

 

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Vengeance – Part 1 – An Action Adventure

Audiobook Version

(Warning! NSFW)

Gone. Before my eyes the world I knew swept from me in a tide of flame─ never-ending, and twisting to the sky. The barrel of the gun is pressed to the back of my skull. I’m on my knees like a dog, bound to a large steel frame─ part of an unfinished house next to ours. I watch silently, my voice gone from screaming. I squeeze my eyes shut─ God make it stop. I knew the answer to my silent plea. Prayer was for children and fairy tales. We had moved here to start a new life. The whole area had been part of a revamp project to help inner-city families. We’d moved into the first house built on a street called hope. Hope. How ironic. The now glowing embers and faint silhouettes are all that stands of our sanctuary. My eyes wander to their faces. I know I shouldn’t, but force myself to look. They hang from the porch, as if swinging from the gallows. My husband for the first time looks like a sleeping child. The half of his face that is left is serene─ the other half is a pulpy mass. They didn’t waste time on him.

I then look to my son and gag, wanting to purge the image from my mind. The whites of his eyes shine through the quieted flame, like the walking dead he floats and his little face is frozen in anguish. He is still wearing what he wore to bed─ his iron man socks and underwear. They didn’t even have the decency to dress him. His body is so terribly beaten that the color of his flesh is purple. I want to cry, but nothing comes out. There’s a fluttering response in my belly─ almost as if my unborn son knows his fate. I wish I could offer some comfort. I hope that they will end us both soon. Laughter sounds, silencing my thoughts. The barrel nudges me from behind, a gentle reminder of my position. There is a slight movement to my right, crunching gravel and the surrounding laughter ceases. 

You’ve been a bad girl, my dear,” the voice calls. It’s the kind of voice that creeps along your spine with all the eloquence of a black widow. Vertebrae by vertebrae it prods gently─ waiting for the right bit of flesh to sink its fangs into. From the shadows steps a man dressed in the finest suit I’d ever seen─ it’s perfectly tailored for his body. He is tall and solid, the kind of man you avoid on the street. It’s something in the way he holds himself, he doesn’t need to look intimidating─ he just is. Suit’s fedora is placed just so that I can’t get a decent look at him. I don’t need to, I know who he is. Daemon’s right-hand man, Ty. I’ll never call him this− it would somehow make him human. He doesn’t deserve that. To me, he’s just Suit. My eyes search the group as I memorize each of their faces. Finally, they stop on the Suit. 

He sneers, “What, nothing to say for once sweetheart?” He pauses and looks around, chuckling with his filthy hyenas. Sauntering up, he steps behind me. I feel the gun removed from my head. There’s a crunching noise before the heel of his foot is put in its place. “Come on, there must be something,” he quips, digging his foot into my skull. I stare at the ground, mute. He sighs, retracts his foot and then brings it down hard on my head─ a grunt of satisfaction leaving his lips. I wait for the next one, but it doesn’t come. He’s pausing─ for what I don’t know. I wait and begin to fidget. Surely there is more. Then I feel the binds fall to the ground. I jolt forward, but someone slams me back into place. A tunnel of black clouds my vision, but I fight hard and remain conscious. It’s a small victory at least. He grabs both my hands and ties them over my head. I swallow thickly, the worst is coming. His hands brush against mine and trail along my left arm down to my chest. Suit’s hands hover just above my breast. Then he moves it over to my heart and presses against me firmly. For five long beats, he stays this way. Then the rocks scrape across the concrete as he shifts, standing over me.

The world is suddenly ringing─ jarring and cruel. His groans of pleasure sound as kick after paralyzing kick begins. My ribs sing in agony and I feel my right eye swell then finally close. One last kick and he stops, leaning down to my face. I can smell him─ smell the bourbon and rot through his shit-eating grin. I will never forget this smell. He reaches down into his pocket and pulls something out. There is a familiar flick and I jerk feverishly looking up. A lighter. But I’m not given time to panic, there’s a sharp pain in the back of my head. It’s the last I know before darkness creeps in. I wish in these last moments to join my family. 

# 

The breath of life wakes me and I curse at the unwanted gift. Pristine black shoes invade my one good eye, sliding to a halt. In the distance, a wailing siren sounds over the gentle crackling of subdued flame. Were they my sirens? Had someone called in the fire? Tristan… I vow revenge in that moment, for my husband, my two sons─ offering to whatever deity can hear me my servitude. An instant passes−the feint flutter of wings resonates against the buildings. My eye strains and then focuses to the dark stretch of alley visible between Suit’s legs. A lone raven lands and cocks its head to the side. It stares in my direction, then eyes the men. It’s waiting. A single grating voice disturbs the hush and I cringe at reality.

C’mon where’s my feisty little reporter that I so admire. No stories for me?” Even though I know it won’t help, I stay quiet. He shifts and then continues, “maybe one about a particular company? Hmm, Vivian? ” My name slithers off of his tongue as if he were seducing a lover and I retch in disgust. Leaning down, he caresses my cheek. I try twisting away but he holds my face in place.

You and me, we could have a little fun before you go. I’ve always had a thing for redheads.” I growl pulling furiously away from his grasp, but he holds my chin in place.

I level my gaze at him, “I’d rather swallow razor blades while cigarettes are put out in my eyes,” I quip through clenched teeth.

Mmm, well suit yourself, love.” He lets go and with one hand, singles out a small patch of hair near my face. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a knife. When I try to squirm, he just laughs and cuts the strand from my face, nicking my brow.
He stands and parts the hair into two piles. One he pockets and the other, to my growing disgust, places in his mouth. He lets out a low moan, savoring the strands like they were a fine wine. Sick bastard. Suit finishes and leans down to dust off his shoes. 

Now, where were we, my dear?”

I feel the crushing weight of his foot bear down on my gut squeezing what little life is left of the child inside of me. I feel my baby’s fluttering movements as he tries to escape the pressure. I snap and thrust my head forward into Suit’s shin with as much force as I can. He curses and backs away, grabbing at his leg. Before I can stop myself words finally spew out. 

Stop it! You have what you want, they’re all dead.” My desperation does nothing but inflates his anger and he delivers a swift blow to my nose. Blood leaks down into my screaming mouth. Who was I kidding, what wayward deity would heed my call? I prayed for a quick death. There is that hope again─ I knew better. Daemon’s men took great pleasure in drawing out the kill. My husband was an exception to the rule, simply because in the right frame of mind, he would have killed these thugs in less than five minutes.

Suit chuckles, dusting off his pants. His tone comes out dismissive, “Alright, Green. It’s time the newbie earned his spot in the crew. Go on behind her and get your gun ready.” From behind, I hear shuffling and someone slowly walks up to me. I hear Suit sigh and tap his foot.

Kevin, what are you doing? Pull out the gun and place it on her head. We need to teach her a lesson.” I can hardly manage to breathe as I wait.

Yeah, sure I know.” Hesitation, “I just, you know─ do you have to beat her so much?” Suit doesn’t answer. The boy stutters, “I mean, damn man she’s already busted up real bad.” Keeping my head low, I glance at Suit’s shoes as he strolls over to Kevin.

Tell you what, Green. Why don’t you give me the gun and I’ll find a man that has a pair out here to do it for you.” Kevin shifts again before I hear the gun being handed off.

Look, I’m sorry Ty I just I got a soft spot for girls. That’s all, I don’t mean any disrespect─ It’s just whoa─ whoa okay man I’m leaving, alright?” The quick shuffle of his boots sounds as Kevin turns to leave. He gets midway across the parking lot before Suit puts three rounds in him. The deafening slump of his body signals the end of chivalry in the group.

Any more concerns, gentlemen?” When no one speaks, he hands the gun off to the nearest lackey and walks in front of me. Lackey two quickly shuffles and then presses the gun hard into my temple.

There now, all cozy.” He rubs his hands together. “Interruptions, interruptions. Where was I?” He claps, “Ah yes, the fact that you can’t keep your nose out of company affairs.” As if scolding a child, he tousles my hair. 

Well now, can’t have that, can we darling. Mr. Reese is a very busy man, I’m afraid, and can’t make it to your execution. But don’t worry. It will all be filmed for his enjoyment later.” His words sounded like he was explaining them to a business partner, just business as usual. No big deal we’ve murdered your entire family. 

Fuck this.

You spineless piece of shit. You think you’re going to get away with this? I’m sorry, that all of you, are going to get away with this?” She spat blood at the ground wincing from the pain before continuing.

What do you think will happen when a major news anchor doesn’t show for her reveal of the biggest accounting scandal the United States has known? All those poor families tossed aside─ They don’t even know what N.C. Global has in store for them, and all of you?” she paused chuckling─ let them blow her brains out.

All of you just sit back, get richer and watch your former employees die on the street from starvation. Yeah, I stuck my nose in─ right where it belonged, arrogant prick.” A sharp slap across my face sends me into fits of laughter, all sanity thrown to the winds like ashes. He slaps me again and again. The blood’s really flowing now, soaking the ground in front of me. I watch as it snakes around his black boots, untouched and blossoming into wings. At least a part of me can be free. The raven calls in the distance, maybe letting me know it’s still there. Maybe it’s come for the soul I’ve offered. Or maybe I’ve finally lost it. I smile through the long tangles of red matted to my face. My vision is sorely impaired, I can barely make him out. I look up to Suit’s shadowed form and whisper my last words.

Pray I don’t make it out of this alive.”

The Suit stops, watching me from above. I revel in his brief insecurity. For once, he is speechless. But that’s all Fate has allowed. To my dismay, his wheezing laughter sounds.

You think this is only about money? Oh, little girl, it’s more than that. You have−” Quickened crunches of gravel interrupt us, followed by an alarmed voice. 

We got problems, someone reported the fire and shots. We got five minutes, maybe less.” Tick, tock the death clock tolls. Suit clicks through his teeth, “Too bad, I wanted to have a little more fun with this one too.” Leaning down, he presses his mouth close to my ear. “How’s that sweet little sister of yours doing?” No. Not this, let it end with this. I can feel his smile with the next sentence, “Lily, was it?” My eyes widen in disbelief and a gag is thrust into my mouth. God, no her life was just starting. Lily was halfway through her doctorates at Harvard, barely 18. We had just celebrated her 18th birthday a few weeks ago. We knew she was special after testing out of middle school at eight. Lily was the only family that I had. Our parents had passed when we were young and our grandparents had succumbed to cancer several years ago. 

Standing, he turns and walks away. “Time for naughty little girls to go to bed.”

My bravado gone, I scream─ my vocal cords’ tearing until nothing comes out. Suit is gone, I don’t know where─ I desperately rip at my binds. My left shoulder cries in protest but I pull harder, finally dislocating it. It can’t end like this, not like this. They had to pay, all of them. The barrel nestles in the back of my skull. Give me fiery eternity─ I’d barter with any devil, spirit, or demon. The fates willing, even in death, I’d find a way. The resounding click cuts through my thoughts as the hammer is pulled back.

Shit. 

Flurries of wings, the splintering of skull, and silence.

Long moments pass and there is nothing. It feels like hours. I am stuck between existence and abyss. Did he pull the trigger? Maybe this is what they talk about. The minutes of brain function before you slowly fade. I’m in the fade. My thoughts cease as I feel the presence creeping behind me. Slinking, calculated steps. I wince at the glow and then look to see my body lying limp from the pole before me. Bits of gore and blood spray the sidewalk fanning out in a perfect semi-circle. Entranced I stare unable to tear my gaze from the beaten form. I should feel something, but all my emotions feel hollow. Except one─ hate. It fills me.

What is it that you want? The entity calls. Feathers explode surrounding my new body─ tenderly embracing it’s every orifice. I welcome the intrusion, letting it seep in. I halt as I draw breath. It is a curious effect because I feel nothing come in or out. For the first time, breathing is optional. For a moment, I struggle to find my voice─ then it rings out with clarity.

I demand retribution” I growl.

Yes indeed, it whispers, then a pause. And I can help you─ but first, a contract must be formed. I should have known. Nothing is free in the real world, why would it be after death?

I’m surprised at the wariness in my own voice, “Do what you must.”

Laughter reverberates off the enclosed space like autumn leaves. Child, do you know what you are getting into? My chin rises stubbornly though I quake in fear from its mighty presence. “I don’t care the cost, give me the contract.” In an instant, the twin beauties appear before my eyes. Their chrome is embellished with delicate, intricate designs− Desert Eagles, 50 caliber. One forged from obsidian, the other pure silver. Ironic, Tristan always told me they weren’t for girls. He was a retired war vet, so naturally had taught me how to shoot. She winced at the past tense used in her own mind. A shame neither of us were prepared since we moved to our city home. Anger shoots full force as I think about what had been done to both him and our son, Jason─ of the life ruined inside of me. Yes, I would do anything it took to make this right. No matter the cost. Choose the right one to commit the act, or suffer an eternity of servitude without your vengeance. But a warning−patience does not exist within the dark.

Words appear on each weapon, snaking around the intricate carvings. Vengeance to the left on Obsidian: Loyalty to the right on silver. So here was my catch. Vengeance was what I wanted, wanted bad but loyalty made sense since I would be in contract. More than likely, I would have to serve this thing, whatever it was, for the rest of eternity. Or did it anticipate that I would think that and pick vengeance instead as the right choice? Decisions, decisions time was ticking.

What do they both mean? Explain my choices.” Ah, clever girl. I will tell you, but for a price. I’m growing impatient with its games, but I need to know. “What is the cost?”

When and IF you are revived, no one will remember you. Not even your precious Lily─ if you so much as talk with her, the contract is broken and you will be sent to eternal damnation−
“And my vengeance is not given, I get it. Anything else?” I become nervous as the being is quiet for a while, I try to turn but something keeps me at bay. You are not allowed to see just yet, child. Of course not, could this thing be any more infuriating?

Here are the answers in which you seek:

Upon choosing the left with vengeance in mind, 

There can only be Death to the life you are tied

Never to see the light of day

And dissipate your spirit will. 

Upon choosing the right with loyalty in mind

Life will restore but to darkness, you bind

Vengeance is a mystery left to stay

However, your soul will forever remain. 

What did it mean, what did it mean? I try to break it down, so if I choose vengeance my soul goes away and I lose my life. But if I chose loyalty then there’s a chance that I may never get my vengeance. What the hell do I do? Images flash through my mind, my husband Tristan asking me to marry him, our first time to make love. The joyous news of a child and our first home, then Scott’s first steps, his sweet morning kisses. All of it gone in seconds─ precious seconds that now slip past me and a choice that will change everything. 

Time is running out ─ choose or I choose for you. My gaze flits left to right, wavering between the two. I hover for several seconds by Vengeance before finally jerking my hand to the right and gripping my destiny.

Now place the barrel to your temple and pull the trigger. 

Didn’t I have enough bullets to the brain for one night? My hand shakes from the weight of the gun as I put it in place, taking all of my strength to put the finger on the trigger. Ten seconds, twenty─ screw it. I close my eyes tight and squeeze the trigger feeling the bullet of Loyalty scream through. Laughter erupts around me.

The contract is sealed. 

#

Opening my eyes, I stare at stark, white walls. For a moment, I look around before realization sets in. This was it, a second chance. It is my time─ my fate and no one would take it from me again. Glancing down, I spot a neat pile of clothes and grin. On top is a folded piece of paper. Inside in fine print is an address:

105 West Main Street.

I know that it will lead me on the path to finding Suit and his men. The life telling machines beep in alarm as I rip the tubes from my arms and nose. Padding down the hall, I duck into the bathroom. The mirror is not a friendly place. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight and my hair has grown long. I know I shouldn’t, but I do anyway. I slowly pull at my shirt and look down. A small scar is visible, the scar where my little one was taken away. I have nothing. How could these bastards live with themselves? For god’s sake, I was seven months pregnant. Anger flows and I punch the glass in front of me.

The answer was simple─ I was nothing personal to any of them. Wiping the blood from my hand I lose myself a little to the madness and laugh. There would be no remorse or pity for them, and I was making it personal. I quickly change and smooth back my hair. Feeling a little less like a cancer patient, I step out of the bathroom. A nurse passes, eying me suspiciously. I take a casual stride as she passes and then slip from the nearest side exit. A blinding world awaits me, the sunlight shimmering down. Was it all a dream? As if in response, I feel the weight in each of my pockets. Reaching my hands inside they find the silky-smooth metal of the guns. There’s a street bike running, ten feet away. I smile as I ride from the parking lot.