by Richard Lee
The kiss broke gently.
“All you have to do,” he said, “is to not look.”
Samantha pushed away from him. Her eyes filled with fear. She spat hard, trying to rid the taste of him in her mouth.
“No,” she said. “Father Michael saved my life once.”
“Then save his,” the black man said.
She turned and ran from him. He didn’t follow.
Running with all her might, legs pumping, she felt the daisies crush under her feet. The shoes were gone and so were her jeans and the jumper. She wore a black tee shirt. The meadow stretched out ahead of her, reaching the line in the distance where the ground met the sky.
Suddenly a voice filled her head and she stopped running because it told her to do so.
The voice said, “The deal will remain open as long as possible. You have the word of the Meph-Man.”
Samantha spun around, but couldn’t see the black man any longer. Only flowers and grass as far as her eyes could see.
Softly the voice in her head said, “Time to wake up, little girl.”
And she did.
Steve sat on the edge of the bed. She was curled awkwardly on his lap. His free hand stroked her hair. The blankets were on the floor in a heap and the sky was dark through the window.
“You were having one heck of a nightmare,” he said.
Samantha felt amazingly clear-headed. Chicken soup was wonderful.
“How long was I out?” she asked.
“Roughly five hours.”
“And you stayed with me, all the time.”
“Well, I had to go take a pee twice, but...”
She smiled and playfully slapped his thigh. “You know what I mean.”
Steve gently stroked her hair. “Who’s the black guy?” he asked, pointing at the door.
The black guy waved. “Didn’t think I’d let you get away that easily, did you?”
The skin on Steve’s face and hands started bubbling. Giant blisters expanded and exploded, splattering her with puss. He was screaming as flames came from nowhere and covered his head.
He pushed Samantha to the floor. The black man was coming towards her. His figure waved in the heat...
...Samantha woke up in a cold sweat. She was screaming. Steve was at her side instantly. Through her tears, she saw him jump from his sleep on the chair. In an instant, he was hugging her tightly and trying to calm her down.
At first she tried to push him away, seeing the image of the black man. He isn’t human, a voice inside her said, and she knew that inner voice was right, as usual.
“Look at me,” Steve said, forcefully turning her head in his direction. “It’s me Steve.”
Samantha’s eyes locked with his and the previous image evaporated, dissipating like smoke. Slowly Steve’s features took hold and he seemed to solidify before her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tighter than he had her.
Taking a chance, Samantha pressed her lips against his. Steve responded. After a moment, he broke the kiss.
“This isn’t the place,” he said.
Samantha nodded, remembering where she was. She had been caught in the moment, fear shaken and in need of support. Steve was at hand. Yet, she did enjoy the kiss very much, and he seemed to have liked it. She knew she was being too hard on herself, analyzing the kiss like that, but she was a P.I. and the toughest person she knew was herself. She had never needed support of any kind before. Then again, she had never experienced anything so real until now.
It was hard to believe the black man had been here, at the house of God of all places. He had invaded the church through her. She knew that as a fact. How else could he enter such a place?
She felt better once her heart slowed and her nerves had calmed. And she no longer felt the urge for another hit of Mind-killer, but it wouldn’t be long before it returned. She wondered if she could be strong enough to resist. With Steve and Father Michael at her side, it was easy, but alone would be a challenge.
Samantha broke the embrace with Steve. He smiled at her and she noticed his cheeks were flushed.
Yep, this was the man for her. The next move would be up to him. She hoped he would make it.
Steve stood up and stretched. Impeccable timing. Finishing his stretch, Father Michael opened the door and walked in carrying another tray of what appeared to be more soup. His hair was messed up and his eyes were red and puffy. He looked like he had just awoken.
He handed the tray to Steve and took the small bowl off it. He handed it to Samantha. “It’s not hot,” he said. “It’s an old family remedy.”
The smell wrinkled her nose.
“Yes, it doesn’t smell very good, but it is good for you.”
Samantha took a sip. The taste stung her tongue and bit at her gums. She spat it back into the bowl.
“Actually, it’s an old Chinese remedy. It should restore your strength, almost fully, within a couple of hours.” He smiled. “Swallow it all in one gulp.”
Samantha took a deep breath. “You better be right, Father,” she said and tilted the bowl to her parted lips. She gagged a couple of times but managed to finish it off.
Steve said, “That smells wonderful.”
Samantha threw him an evil look that quickly melted into a smile as she handed the empty bowl back to Father Michael.
“In a couple of hours, you should be fine,” he said, turning to leave.
“What time is it, Father?” Samantha asked, lying down on the bed.
He looked at his watch. “Almost sunrise, dear.”
“When the sun comes up, will you help me to a holo-phone?”
Father Michael smiled and nodded.
“I have a feeling something’s happened to my house,” she explained.
“You could always check your mail at my house,” Steve said.
“You’re assuming I’m calling to check my mail?”
“You’re not?” He sounded surprised.
“Are you sure you’re connected?”
“Who isn’t?”
Father Michael said, “I’ll let you two work this out. I’m afraid my body isn’t as strong as it used to be. I will need some more sleep.”
“Thank you, Father,” Samantha said.
He nodded a goodnight and closed the door behind him.
“Most people in Area Ten are not connected. I’ve walked those streets and connected people are too busy to be hanging around at all hours of the night in small gangs.” Samantha shrugged. “That’s the impression I got, anyway.”
Steve smiled. “Most people living the opposite lifestyle are of the same mindset. You’d be surprised what the people living in Area of Lost Hope get up to.”
“No, I don’t think I would be surprised.”
“Then let me show you after your holo-call.”
“It’s a date.”
Chapter Thirty-One
What the fuck am I doing here?
Peter awoke on the floor; the cold wood was harsh against his shoulders. His eyes scanned his current location as he tried to remember. The last clear memory was kissing Rachael. Having broken it quickly, he headed for the door...and now he was here.
He sat up and saw his dream girl slouched in a chair. Her body was facing him, but she was out like a light.
“Hey there,” he said softly.
Rachael stirred but remained asleep.
He climbed to his feet using the bench for support and went to the chair. He sat on the armrest and gently shook her shoulders. Her eyes snapped open and she tried to jump away but the opposite armrest blocked her path. In that instant, she suddenly seemed to recognize him.
“Having a bad dream, were you?” he asked.
“Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“What happened to me?”
Rachael rubbed her eyes and patted her hair before answering. “We were on the way outside.”
“Yes.”
“W
hen you suddenly dropped to the floor. Are your knees all right?”
“They seem fine,” Peter answered, not remembering a thing she was saying. “I passed out?” he asked.
Rachael nodded. “Out cold,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do. You can’t go to the hospital ’cause your DNA is not registered and there’s no one for me to call.”
“Who did you call?”
“I just said no one.”
“All right, Rachael,” he said, thinking it was weird to mention there was no one to call. Then the answer seemed to fly into his mouth and out the opening his lips made. “Who called you?”
“My best friend, Ami.”
“And you told her about me?” Peter got to his feet. He wasn’t ready for anyone to know he had returned yet. The world wasn’t ready for the gift he could offer through his next book. It was the promise of the wonderful gift of a continued life and the riches that would come. No one would fear death anymore. Death would become obsolete. No one must know he was here, and Rachael must be warned against her mouth.
“I didn’t say your name, only that I had a visitor and she was really happy for me.”
“I’m happy for you as well.” He looked for a clock but couldn’t see one. “What time is it?”
“Computer, what’s the time?”
“The time is zero four twenty two.”
Peter smiled. “That’s neat.” Suddenly the smile was gone. “We have to go.”
It was nearly sunrise by the time they got outside. Rachael had suddenly needed to use the bathroom and took such a long time that Peter’s stomach cramps were returning with increasing pain. He needed blood, or more likely the dagger needed blood. He kind of felt like a vampire. From the back of his mind a thought pushed its way through. It asked, “How long are you going to be here?” It had asked a question he had no answer for. His wish to return was meant to mean a second life on the Earth, or wherever humans were when he came back.
He remembered thinking about it in the tunnel. In there he had an overwhelming urge to get his computer and publish the book he had just finished. The new book of wishes. More powerful spells and openly available to everyone. Suddenly that urge was back. He had to find the computer and find some way to make it work. He had yet to see a power outlet.
Rachael came bounding down the stairs. She had changed her clothes. She was now wearing a one-piece black skirt. It reached her knees. Over the top she wore a thin white cardigan. Her hair was set in place and she wore a little make up.
Peter was pissed off, although she did look wonderful. His dream girl. He decided not to show his anger, yet he couldn’t believe she had fucked around, knowing how important it was for him to get blood. Didn’t she realize its urgency? Without the blood to power his energy, he could pass out again or worse, he could very well die. And that would mean failure, and he couldn’t handle the thought of failing. It would be worse than going back to the time before the book found him.
He didn’t want to dwell on those painful memories and he didn’t want to show his annoyance at her, so he turned, put on his sunglasses and said, “Let’s go.”
Rachael caught up to him outside the door. She looped her arm in his and kept his fast pace.
A searing pain like a hot knife sliced through his stomach before they reached the front gate. Peter buckled and fell to his knees.
“Peter, what’s wrong?” Rachael knelt in front of him. Her hands rested gently on his shoulders.
In barely a whisper, Peter replied, “Stomach cramp.” He erected his upper half and drove a fist into the pained area. His breath shot out and he inhaled deeply. The pain dissipated. He took five more deep breaths slowly, and with Rachael’s help, got to his feet.
“Peter?” Rachael’s voice rang with concern.
“You know what I need,” he said, looking onto the street. The whole place seemed deserted, as though everyone was inside when darkness came. All the houses looked like dark rectangles. He couldn’t see a light in any window. If fact he couldn’t see windows. How was he going to get what he needed?
Rachael held out her arm to him. “Cut me,” she said.
Peter laughed.
“I’m serious. It’ll give you energy for a while longer, right?”
“I thank you for the offer,” he said weakly. “But I can’t do that, not to you. Besides which, I’m not a blood sucker.”
“I thought...”
“The dagger takes the blood, and I take the energy.”
Rachael was silent.
“Don’t feel bad. It was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Rachael said, “Sorry.”
“You didn’t know the full story. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He looked along both sides of the street. “I need someplace where there are people, not a lot but a few.”
“We could teleport anywhere.”
Peter laughed nervously.
“They’re safe.”
“Yeah right. In the movies they are safe. Doesn’t this place have taxis?” A taxi driver would be nice, he thought.
“Taxis?” Rachael asked. “Oh, those things. No need for them. Everyone teleports.”
“I see. Then we have to walk.”
Peter swung the gate forward and turned left. He had no idea where he was going and it didn’t matter. He would find a way into someone’s house if it came to that.
Rachael kept a couple of paces behind him. Peter didn’t want her feeling bad about anything, but there wasn’t a lot he could do in his state.
He turned around to face her and said, “Lovely dress, looks really good on you.”
Instantly her face brightened. “Really?”
“Yes,” he answered and resumed walking at a fast pace.
She caught up to him but didn’t loop arms.
Peter smiled. He didn’t really think that comment would work in this time. It hadn’t worked so well in the twentieth century. But it worked with Rachael and he realized that she had wasted time just to look good for him. He no longer felt any anger or annoyance at her.
Officer Edward Pollic the third was nearing his sixty-second birthday. And he had the worst job in the world. He spent nine hours a day staring at a holo video screen, seeing what the police officers were doing while on duty. All officers, including him, had tiny cameras attached to their retinas, so someone like him could witness, but usually sit back and watch, what was happening out there on the streets.
Twenty-five years on the force and the last eleven years in this position. His entire family had been police officers. His great grandfather had been an officer at Opera Sands at the time of the wolf attacks. That was a well-documented case history of a split personality. Edward wanted a case like that, but it had never happened.
The only place he could probably find a case like that, a case to make him famous like his great grandfather, was in Area of Lost Hope. And the police didn’t patrol that area. Hadn’t since the riot fifteen years ago. A riot which took the lower half of his left leg and landed him in this job four years later, when he returned to work.
He knew he’d never patrol the streets again and had grown accustomed to a higher credit salary. What he didn’t expect was to be pushed into a swivel chair to watch what his life could have been if that riot had never happened.
Even with the increased salary, the pain of watching what his life could’ve been was hell for the first year.
There was an upside to all of it. He wasn’t in much danger now, he still carried his trusted phaser and his wife hadn’t left him like she threatened to do many times. And the biggest upside was coming to work with his two children, Tom Pollic and Michelle Pollic, both of them fine officers.
Tom was pulling desk duty this month and Michelle was pulling a double shift to cover for her friend, which meant a rare and wonderful thing was about to happen. They would leave work and arrive home together. Luck like this did not come along every day. He knew the pride and love for his children showed openly, but he w
asn’t embarrassed about it and they didn’t seem to mind, either. And to think he had almost lost them and his wife weeks before the riot happened. He was indeed a lucky man. This job wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him and neither was losing part of his leg. It was good luck disguised as bad.
Making a decision, he tapped into Linda Stone’s retina camera. She was partnered with his daughter for tonight. And with Michelle being tired from a harrowing first shift, he figured Linda would be driving. He tapped a few holo-keys and a new screen appeared on top of the previous. It would be safe to watch two screens, listening to both at the same time.
He adjusted the screen position and halved the width until the screens floated side by side.
In the left-hand screen he saw Patrick and Phillip, ‘The Two Ps,’ they were nicknamed, getting coffee at a roadside diner. What he could see from Phillip’s camera was that they were at one of the latest fashion craze diners, an old gutted two level airplane of some sort.
He wasn’t interested in that screen, but still remained alert for anything.
The screen he was interested in showed his daughter, sitting in the passenger seat of a cruiser, laughing. The view suddenly moved away from his daughter to the rearview mirror. He saw Linda’s eye reflected back. She turned her attention to the area in front on them. There were a few other cruisers in the air. He adjusted the volume to hear them speak.
At first there was a long silence, then he heard the sweet voice of his daughter. “Anyway, Phillip made a pass at me last night.”
“Did you accept it?” Linda’s voice. Ahead of her the viewpoint changed as the cruiser turned left. The air was suddenly empty.
“What’s that?” Michelle asked. Her hand suddenly came into view. She was pointing far off in the distance.
“Fighter Jets,” Linda said.
“And headed our way,” Michelle added.
Officer Pollic felt the heavy weight of worry curl up in his stomach.
“Are they ours?” Michelle again.
“Can’t tell. Too far away.”
“What shall we do?”
After a moment Linda said, “We’ll go do East area first then come back here.”
“I’ll send an emergency email.”
