Deadwave

by Michael Evans

  “I can’t even imagine.” Jake puts a hand on my thigh as I take a deep breath in and then out. He has a strange look in his eyes, one I have never seen before. He looks paralyzed with fear, part of him looking at me like he expects me to be dead. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital? I’m not gonna be like James with this, we can’t play around with this.”

  “I’m fine.” I hold up a hand, trying to ease the frantic tension in his arms. He has the sort of expression, the sort of stress, that one only exhibits when they feel responsible. “I’m fine, but Riva’s not. Riva’s not.”

  “What do you mean, she’s not fine?”

  “I mean that when they pulled her body up from the water—” The memory inundates my mind along with an avalanche of emotions. My entire body suddenly feels heavy, and my lips turn numb. The words can barely make it off my lips. “S-She wasn’t breathing. S-She w-was dead. She looked dead. I think I, I-I have to call her.”

  “Where did you put your hologlasses?” Jake stands up, his eyes scanning the room. His eyes widen with alarm, and his pupils are so large that it looks like he has smoked a pound of weed on his own. “Where did you put them?”

  “They were in my pocket.” I pat my thigh, hoping that they somehow will still be in my cargo shorts. “Yes, they are here. I’m calling her right now.”

  “You said she’s dead?” Jake is practically screaming now. His curly hair looks even more messy than it normally does. “What are you doing calling her? Call the police!”

  “She didn’t pick up.” I slam my hologlasses against the ground, the thin layer of fiberglass miraculously not breaking.

  “You have to call the police.” He shakes my arm. I am still sitting on the floor, unmoving. “I literally found your body outside the hotel room after I heard a loud knocking. I had to drag you inside. They could have left her anywhere! You have to call. We can’t handle this ourselves.”

  “I can’t do that, Jake. You know that. You know the risk.” My voice is soft and cold, but a sharp ringing noise sounds in my ear, causing the room to feel like it is full of static. “They will make it look like I did this. I could be sending myself to jail for life.”

  “You sound like a psychopath.” Jake now stands above me, his large figure looking intimidating in the darkness. “You’re sounding like your dad. You know how ridiculous he’s being. You know it! You know it. So, stop this game. I don’t care about these people, and what they might do to you or do to James. I love you both and can’t watch you go through this again!”

  His scream turns violent as he kneels down so that his face is right in front of mine. Tears stream down his face, dripping on my bare knees.

  “I fucked up.” I break down, the waves of sadness overcoming me. “I fucked up, the only reason they took us both was because I told her about the sponsorship. I pitched her the idea of working together a few days ago, and tonight they made sure I would never be able to see her again. That no one would.” My voice cracks, the darkness in the hotel room taking on a new weight as my breathing turns heavy. “This is my fault.”

  “Stop being crazy. Get yourself together, man.” Spit flies from Jake’s mouth and lands on my face. The words feel ironic coming from a man who is in the middle of angrily crying. “Riva needs you right now. Dead or alive. We need you right now. I need you right now. You have to do this. You have to call. Even if they are going to kill us all in the end, you have to do the right thing.”

  “You can call if you want.” I stand up, causing him to move out of my personal bubble of space. “You’re more than capable of dialing three numbers. I won’t stop you. It’s just my dad is right. You haven’t seen what I have seen. It is useless. They have too much power; they will find a way to make me pay.” I pause, all the anger pent up inside of me suddenly starting to boil to the surface of my mind. These people destroyed my life. I won’t let them destroy me. “Just like they magically found a way to me and Riva tonight.”

  “What’s that weird tone for?” Jake narrows his eyebrows, exhaling hot air from his nostrils. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying I don’t trust anyone or anything anymore. Not the police, not Dad, and not you. These people have been behind the misery of my entire life. They have clearly manipulated my dad for years, they likely killed my mom, and who the hell knows what they have you up to. You were the only one who knew where we were tonight. You were the only one.”

  “You are such a piece of shit.” Jake steps forward, considering pinning me up against the wall. But he decides against it, instead walking towards the window at the far side of the room that has a view of the dark Chicago skyline. At night, all residential lights must be off at midnight to conserve power—the city is running on empty. “I always was okay with the fact that I have lived in your shadow. I thought it was fine that the world didn’t look at me, that no one in school ever cared about me, and that your parents always treated me as something other than their son when you were the Golden Child, or at least that’s what you were supposed to be. I used to be okay with that.”

  “You know that none of that is true,” I say with a bit too much disdain in my voice to be convincing. I grow defensive. Somehow, his words feel like an outright attack on me—an attack on my view of the world. I never have wanted to accept the fact that my parents treated us differently, that no matter what, they would never love us the same. And that Jake doesn’t deserve that. Jake doesn’t deserve a past which my dad refused to ever allow him to ask questions about, to even think about.

  “It is true, that and so much more, and I’m tired of it. I’m done!” he yells, smiling. His eyes look out on the city, and he outstretches his arms as he comes to an epiphany. “I should have put this to an end years ago. I should have realized from the beginning. I always thought I was less than you, I always thought that I was nothing compared to you. You always beat me at everything, your dad always dismissed my questions, dismissed my own parents as if they were worthless. As if I was nothing. But I know now that I’m not that. I deserve better. I’m worthy of more, it took seeing today, seeing this.” He stares at me, with his brown eyes full of tears and jaw clenched.

  He steps forward, both of his fists tightened. He is two inches shorter than me, but somehow, with his broad shoulders and chest poked out, he seems taller than me. “I always thought you were family. I thought James was my dad. I thought I could love you. I thought I could trust you. But you don’t feel those things for me, you don’t feel it with anyone. You only care about yourself. And I’m tired of being here for someone who will never be there for me.”

  “Jake,” I plead with him, but I don’t know what to say except stare back at him with a helpless look in my eyes. “Jake. Give me a chance. I promise it will be different. I’ve been going through a lot. I need to figure things out. We need to get past this together. I need you, man. I need you here with me.”

  “I don’t care if you need me.” He shakes his head. “It’s people like you who use everyone around them, expecting everyone to cater to your every need. This may be your world in your own head, but you can’t accuse me of trying to tear you apart. Accuse me of trying to kill Riva. If you really need me, then you wouldn’t have said that. You wouldn’t always ignore me. The problem is who you need is yourself, and good luck on finding it, because I can’t help you.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t help me?” I stare at him, my voice emotionless as my body tightens, preparing for the worst. “No, don’t do this. After all these years you can’t leave like this. You’ll regret it.”

  “This isn’t the end.” Jake exhales, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his hair. “The honest truth is I haven’t been happy for a while. I have always found myself being happy for you and finding nothing to be happy with my own self for. Unlike you, I can’t abandon people I love. I can’t. I need a break. I can’t sleep in the same room as you, I can’t keep talking to you every day, having your life revolve around my own, even suffoc
ate my own.”

  He pauses, and I close my eyes, trying to prevent the tears from falling out of my eyes and on my cheeks. “Today, what you said today, what you accused me of, it only was the breaking point. This has been building for a while, and I need to be somewhere that I feel worthy. I need a change, and Sam, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep feeling like this because I honestly don’t give a damn about the rest of the world, but the fact that even you think I am a figure in your own shadow is what hurts the most.”

  He steps towards the door, and I don’t have the strength nor heart to stop him.

  “I’ll see you soon. But I’m leaving for now. Maybe I’ll stay with…fuck, I have no family or friends!” He slams his fist against the wall of the hotel, leaving a hefty dent in the blue paint that I will likely have to pay for. “Damn, I’m such a failure.” He places both hands on his hips as he looks up at the ceiling with a look of anger so deep that it almost scares me.

  “Don’t forget your crap.” I point to the bathroom, where his unpacked backpack full of toiletries and clothes that he had brought to Chicago was lying on the tile floor.

  “That’s all you have to say? That’s it?” He sounds broken, and part of me wants to reach out and give him a hug, to try and piece him back together, to try and convince him that things are different. But I know he’s right—if I did that, I’d be lying.

  “Jake, what else can I do?” I plop down on the bed, all energy fleeing from my body. The adrenaline that had coursed through me at the height of the argument has been replaced by a deep depression. “My whole life is falling apart right now. I feel numb. I’m in shock, dude. I’m in shock.”

  “None of that’s an excuse.” He shakes his head, the disappointment in his expression seeming to confirm his earlier doubts in me. “But I don’t know why I expected you to be here for me now. Your head is too far up your own ass to even see anyone else’s problems, to even see the fact that Riva needs help right now.” Jake leans over and picks up his backpack from the floor.

  “I’ll see you sometime soon.” He nods at me as he opens the hotel room door. “I’m calling the police now. I’m doing the right thing. Now seems like the perfect time for a joke. This tension needs to be broken, but I got nothing. So I’m gonna close this door, okay?” The light from the hallway gradually fades, leaving only Jake’s head poking through the crack. “This is so awkward. I hate this. But I hate how things were more.

  “Bye, brother.” He waves and closes the door.

  Knowing Jake, he won’t stay mad at me for long, maybe three days at tops. But the second he closes the door, his muffled sobbing in the hallway splinters my heart into yet another million pieces.

  I feel like I went through a breakup. My insides feel on the verge of collapsing, my heart is racing, and all I want to do is cry. I abandoned my mom. I abandoned Jake. I abandoned Riva.

  And worst of all, I abandoned myself.

  The one thing Jake doesn’t understand is that I’m not selfish. I’m scared. Scared to trust, scared to love, scared to feel anything, scared to lose control.

  And my fear may have won. My fear may have killed Riva and the only true friendship I have ever known.

  Chapter 25

  “I’m so done with this!”

  I burst into my dad’s office. He is sitting at his desk, his glazed-over eyes reading something projected onto the large holograph in front of him. His office is on the top floor of a thirty-story building overlooking Mission Valley, San Diego. One entire wall of it is composed of a massive window that has a beautiful view of the sunset, which my dad gets to witness most days, because unless he is traveling, he is almost always here well past dark.

  “Don’t burst into my office like that.” He narrows his eyes at me, already standing up in an offensive position. The nostrils of his large, pointy nose flare at me in disgust. “I could have had a work call going on. That’s unacceptable.”

  “I talked to your assistant before I came in.” I point to the glass door that leads to the rest of the executive offices and a front desk where a number of assistants are always stationed. His office smells distinctly of perfume, the flowery aroma overpowering the smell of stale burritos that normally encapsulates the room. I don’t hide my confusion once I register the smell. “And wait, what the hell? Did you bring a girl in here? This place never smells like this, do you wear perfume now?”

  “I’ve had business to take care of all day.” He steps out in front of his smooth glass desk and leans back on it, his black dress shoes rubbing against the ivory carpet beneath his workspace. The rest of his office is covered in bookshelves, with works spanning from science fiction to self-help, and a number of paintings that my dad said are simply investments he would one day sell adorn random spots on the oak walls. Something tells me the painting of the naked lady isn’t an investment.

  “Oh, right. I’m sorry to interrupt.” I make sure the passive-aggressive tone to my voice is apparent as I back away towards the door. “I’m sure you have a really busy day today anyway, much more important things to attend to.” I eye the picture of the naked lady again, which is drawn in way too much detail to be for artistic purposes. “I don’t know what I was expecting, it’s not like I was coming to tell you your entire plan for the promotion of the Chimera Life Pods is fucked. Definitely not.”

  “Please explain. I have a meeting at noon with our lead engineers.” He sighs, the way in which his body shakes with anxiety making me feel like more of a burden than an actual human being.

  “You might wanna delay that meeting, Dad, or at least show up late.” I try to communicate to him by the ominous tone to my voice that this is serious. “This is gonna take a few minutes to explain.”

  “I’m all ears.” He sits back in his desk chair, his back cracking as he swivels his arms.

  “Let me send you this first.” I gulp, forwarding him the message as fast as I can so that I don’t have to read it again myself. I have already cried about it for hours. I likely looked like a sobbing toddler on the flight this morning from Chicago to San Diego as the magnitude of everything hit me. I can’t even imagine how many memes there are of me with tears silently streaming down my face as I stared out the airplane window, searching for comfort in the blank blue skies that stretched on forever.

  After last night, I booked the first morning flight that I could back to San Diego, both too scared and too upset to text Jake or Riva. It was one of those nights where I lay under the covers, wishing that my own thoughts and even my own body could disappear into the night and that all my problems, all my sadness, and all my regrets could turn to nothing. That emptiness soon turned into a cauldron where all my anger and all the twisted desires in me could coagulate into one soupy mixture of resolve. Every moment, every ounce of pain, turned into fuel. A fuel that is propelling me to have one thought, and one burning desire: to kill. To destroy everything that has ever hurt me. To destroy everything trying to screw over this world. To destroy everyone whose mission is to make me go mentally insane and die, before they succeed.

  Except I can’t ignore the guilt, the one thing that is dragging me down. Riva’s text reminded me of that. Riva’s text, which came in as I boarded the plane, at first filled my face with a smile as the relief of her still being alive washed over me. But that relief soon faded into grief as she made it abundantly clear that she would not be accepting the sponsorship with Chimera, and that she would not be accepting my offer to be there for her. She is devastated that I never tried to find her, and that I let her be taken back to a strange Chicago penthouse by those people, only to be dropped off on the same park bench where we were kidnapped. The police soon found her, stating that they had gotten a call from Jake, not me. After that, her doubts were confirmed.

  She never wants to see me again. She never wants to have anything to do with me. She is convinced that this is all my fault, that I almost killed her.

  And the part that hurts the most about it all is that she’s right. This
is all my fault. No one should be with me, no one should talk to me, no one should even think about being in my life. I’m going to screw them over in the end anyway; they are going to have to deal with shrapnel tearing apart their skin, tearing apart their hearts, as my life explodes. And it’s exploding right now, in slow motion, and I don’t know what to do to stop it.

  I don’t know what to do.

  “What does she mean, you almost killed her?” My dad looks at me, his thin eyebrows narrowing into a menacing stare. I know exactly what he is thinking, and he is on the verge of shoving me up against one of the bookshelves and strangling me.

  “It’s not what it sounds like.” My voice is weak and airy, which certainly doesn’t help form a convincing defense. “It was them.”

  He nods, a few beads of sweat forming on the top of his receding hairline. The creases on his face seem to multiply as he clenches his fists. I can’t tell whether he is going to punch his desk or continue squeezing his fists tighter together until they explode.

  “They tried to drown us, Dad. Drown us!” My voice echoes in his office. Good thing his walls are soundproof, or else everyone on the top story would be moving towards the office to listen in.

  He nods but remains silent. He points to his ears and puts a finger on his lips. I know exactly what he means: they can hear him. They can hear everything.

  These people practically have their hands around my throat.

  “I understand.” His voice remains calm, but from the lost look in his eyes as he stares out at Mission Valley, and the tens of thousands of buildings between the brown peaks of the mountains, I know he is beside himself. I don’t have to explain every detail of the encounter for him to know what happened, to know why it happened.