Time Spent

by J. David Clarke

  "I'm sorry."

  "I'm not letting her go, she'll just attack us again."

  Zachary moved closer to her. "You do this to people? Hold them against their will?"

  "When they're whipping me with their electric fists or whatever? Fuck yes I do."

  He considered. "Only her, then."

  Becca rolled her eyes. "No, not only her. I've done it lots of times."

  "That's bad," he said.

  Becca looked him dead in the eye. "Don't even think about it, Blondie."

  "God has a message for you," he said.

  ______________________

  Her instructor stood beside her as the target whirred up the line from the back of the practice range.

  "Miller, this is not good enough. Not good enough by half."

  Becca removed her protective goggles and stared at the target, unscathed. Several bullets had perforated the paper around the edges, but none had actually struck inside the black human outline.

  "Damn it," she said.

  "We're gonna have to schedule you additional hours at the range," he said.

  Becca sighed.

  "Damn right you are," said Hal Shepherd from behind them. "A lot of them."

  "Agent Shepherd," her instructor said. "Didn't see you come in. Good to see you." They shook hands.

  Becca had known Shep was there. She had sensed him come in, just as she had all the other times he had shown up unexpectedly to watch her classes and practices. He was making a habit of it.

  Shep took note of Becca's look of annoyance. "Nice to see you too, Rebecca. Leppert, you mind if I borrow your student for a bit?"

  "Have at it, maybe you can get through to her," the instructor said.

  "I'm gonna borrow this, too." Shep yanked the target off the backboard and rolled it up.

  They left the gun range and stepped out onto the grounds. Shep slipped on a pair of sunglasses in the bright sun.

  "So," he said, "we finally found a test you can't fool, huh?"

  Becca side-eyed him. "What does that mean?"

  "You know what it means."

  Becca was silent.

  "Your forensics instructor thinks you're one of the smartest students he's ever had. You contribute in class, answer every question, fly by every test."

  "Yeah, well, what can I say?"

  He looked down at her. "Your combat classes are the same way. Take down after take down. Easy peasy."

  "Instructor took me down quick enough," she said.

  "Because you let him," Shep said.

  "I let him? Please."

  "Please yourself, girl. I was there. I've been doing this for a hell of a long time, Rebecca Miller, and I've seen that look on your face. You let him take you down, just to make sure you didn't look too good."

  Again, Becca didn't answer.

  "I've seen people who can do what you do."

  Becca looked at him. "Do what?"

  "Whatever it is you do to get in their heads. Hypnotize them, mesmerize them. You tell me."

  "Hypnotizing them?" She laughed. "Okay, go home, Shep, you're drunk."

  He stopped walking and stood in front of her. "Rebecca, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. You can go on breezing through all your classes just like you have been. But I'm warning you, pretty soon now you're going to get a big juicy assignment, probably an anti-terrorism task force or the like. A plum, the kind of thing only the very best agents get. And when that happens, this target is going to come back to haunt you." He shook the rolled up paper in his hand.

  "What, because I'm not a great shot?" She snorted.

  "Rebecca, you're a lot of things, but you're not stupid. So stop acting like it. This target represents something, because it has a power no one else you've come across has had. You can't get into its head. You can't trick it. And so, the target wins. I promise you, there will be people in the field who you can't trick, and when you come across them, God help you, because they can do a lot worse to you than this paper can."

  He shoved the paper into her hands. Becca held it, thinking of all the people she had been unable to control: Kevin, Zachary...Brock. She could hear Shep's thoughts, feel the worry behind them: She's going to get herself killed.

  "I'm worried about you, Rebecca. You don't care about your classes, that seems obvious. But these classes are going to determine what happens to you in the field, and if you don't care about what can happen to you in the field, then I have to wonder: is there anything you care about?"

  Becca looked down at the paper for a time. Finally, she inhaled a deep breath and let it out. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

  He smiled. "First, more hours at the gun range."

  "A lot more," she said with a grimace.

  "That's my girl."

  ______________________

  WHO ARRRRRE YOOOU? the faceless man's voice spoke in her head. WHOO'S THISS LITTLE GIRLLL?

  "You're NOT my DADDY."

  DDADDY'S LITTLE... His voice stopped.

  Becca heard a woman's voice in her head: PPRINCESSSS.

  Suddenly the faceless man fell to his knees. Beyond him, Becca saw a woman framed by the aperture in the sky: a woman with long red hair and red eyes set in a blank faceless expression.

  The woman stepped forth.

  ______________________

  The ballpark. Sun shining on her face. Her hand warm, touching the harsher dry hand of the man who was her whole life.

  "Daddy?" she said, looking up at him. She was a little girl again, standing by his side, with her hand in his.

  He didn't hear her, he was staring ahead.

  "What are we doing here, Miller?"

  Becca was startled. Tiffany was there, standing there, but not a little girl; this was Tiffany as she had been on the military base, eighteen years old.

  "Why are you here?" Becca said. "You don't belong here."

  "Last thing I remember you did something to my head. I couldn't move."

  Becca shook her head. "No, that's not right. That's years from now. I'm still a little girl here." They were standing outside the main gate of the ballpark, in front of the main ticket window, with the long walk to the parking lot ahead.

  "That was a few seconds ago!" Tiffany said. "Where the hell are we?"

  Becca struggled to remember. Zachary had done something to her.

  "Princess," her father said.

  Becca looked up at him with a smile. "Yeah, Daddy?"

  He kneeled down in front of her, a wan expression on his face. "I have to go do something. Real quick."

  A cold dread seized Becca's chest. She knew this moment. She had been here before, a long long time ago.

  "No, Daddy...no..."

  "What's wrong with you?" Tiffany asked.

  "It's okay, honey. You just stay right here. Can you do that for me?"

  "No Daddy no, no Daddy, no no."

  "That's my girl. Daddy's little princess. I'll be right back."

  He stood and turned, walking in the direction of the parking lot.

  Becca stood there and waited.

  "Hey," Tiffany said. "You can't leave her waiting here."

  Becca's father continued walking as if he hadn't heard.

  Tiffany took a few steps toward him. "Hey. HEY! You can't leave a little girl alone here like that!"

  He kept walking until he had disappeared from view. Tiffany turned back to Becca.

  "But that's exactly what he did." Becca said. "And he never came back."

  "This is why you started acting so weird. This is why you kept acting mean to everyone all the time." Tiffany sat down beside her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Because I don't care."

  "You don't care?"

  Becca stabbed a child's finger into Tiffany's face. "I don't CARE. I don't need HIM. I don't need YOU. I don't need ANYONE."

  The scene shifted around them. They were in the hallway of Becca's old house. She was standing in front of her mother's bedroom, the door open. Becca was her eighte
en-year old self again, dressed for school. She staggered back two steps and sagged against the door to her own bedroom.

  "This is your house," Tiffany said.

  "I don't care," Becca said. "I don't care. I'm not doing this."

  "Doing what?" Tiffany asked.

  "I'm not fucking doing this anymore. DO YOU HEAR ME?" She screamed at the ceiling. "Zachary? Or God? Or who the fuck EVER? I am officially done with this shit! I'm not playing anymore!"

  "What are you on about? Is there something in here?" Tiffany had wandered toward her mother's room.

  "I don't care," Becca said. "I'm not doing this."

  Tiffany stepped into her mother's room. Her gaze fell on the bed, and she gasped. "Oh...oh no..." She covered her mouth with her hands and looked back at Becca.

  "I don't care," Becca said.

  "It's your mother..." Tiffany said.

  "No it's not! It's not! My mother's fucking dead. She killed herself. She killed herself while I was..." She choked. "I was asleep in my room and she fucking killed herself."

  Tiffany ran to her and tried to put her arms around her but Becca shoved her away.

  "Get off of me! You think I care? You think I give a rat's ass about them?"

  "Yes," Tiffany said. "You have to care." She fought against Becca's resistance and finally succeeded in embracing her. "You have to care. This is what's been wrong with you and you never told anyone. You have to care. You have to start trusting people. You have to."

  ______________________

  The road to graduation was not easy for Becca. She spent endless hours at the gun range, took endless lessons, until her marks were adequate. Countless late nights hitting the books, studying for her classes. Tremendous amounts of self-discipline, keeping herself from reading the thoughts of her instructors and fellow students. Bruises, sore neck, sore back, sore arms and legs, one fall after another, climbing off the mat again and again and again and again. Gradually, things began to turn. One shot hit the target, then another. One test passed, then two, then three. She hit the mat less and less, nursed her injuries fewer and farther between. And always Shep was there, in the back of class, out on the grounds, waiting for her at the gun range. He went over her results with her, gave her tips, coaching points, made her think when she wanted to give up, made her laugh when she wanted to cry, and annoyed the living shit out of her all the way.

  After the graduation ceremony, Becca had asked Shep to meet her at his office. She closed the door behind her. He leaned against his desk and folded his arms.

  "Okay, what's all this about, Rebecca?"

  "There's something I want to tell you. Show you, really," Becca said.

  "Okay."

  "You remember you said you thought I had some kind of talent? Almost like mesmerizing people?"

  Shepherd nodded. "Yeah? As I recall you said I was imagining things."

  Becca winced. "Yeah. Well...I lied."

  Shepherd laughed. "I know that, Rebecca. You think I didn't know that?"

  "It's more though," she said. "A lot more."

  "Okay?" He crossed his arms and looked at her hard. "What does that mean exactly?"

  "I can, like, read people's minds. Really read them. What they call telepathy? I can do that."

  "Okay," he said, "playtime's over. I'm not buying it."

  "No, I'm not kidding. I'm not. I can read people's minds, and control them even."

  "Miller! Not. Buying it." He laughed.

  "Okay," Becca rubbed her hands together. "Okay...I'm going to send thoughts into your head. Okay? It's pretty weird."

  He rolled his eyes. "Okay, sure. Go for it."

  BBELIEVE ME NOWW?

  "Holy SHIT!" he fell backward, stumbling into the wall. "Holy...oh my God..."

  II TOLD YOU. IT'S MY POWERR

  "This is crazy, this is crazy!" He got up and turned to run for the door.

  WWAITT

  Becca reached her mind out and grabbed him, freezing him in place.

  DDON'T RUN! I'M NOT TRYING TO HURT YOUU

  His thoughts reached a fever pitch, just like all the others had: Help me help me I can't move help someone help me I can't move I can't move!

  II'M GOING TO LET YOU GO, JUST CALM DOWNN

  Help me help me help help help!

  SSTOP IT! STOP IT GOD DAMN IT! CALM THE FUCK DOWNN

  She released him, and his body sagged to the floor.

  "My God...what was that? What did you do?"

  "It's okay, it'll pass. You exhausted yourself fighting. They all do."

  He looked up at her, and his face was filled with terror. "They...ALL?"

  "I don't mean all," Becca said, "I just mean...the other times I've done this. It happens."

  He staggered to his feet. "Get away from me," he said. He ran out the door and into the hall.

  "Wait!" Becca called.

  "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" he shouted, and ran.

  The following day, Becca returned to his office to find it locked. Shep was nowhere to be found. She stepped down the hall to one of the other academy instructor's offices.

  "Excuse me," she said.

  A small woman with clipped-back black hair looked up from her desk. "Can I help you?"

  "I'm looking for Shep - Agent Shepherd? Have you seen him?"

  The woman's face paled. "Oh. You didn't hear? Sit down."

  "Hear what?" Becca's brow furrowed.

  He's dead, the woman thought. "Sit down, dear."

  Becca did not sit. "Dead? He's fucking dead? How?"

  "Oh. Yes, he died last night. A heart attack they said."

  Becca raised her hands to her head. "No, no, no, this can't be happening..."

  "Sit down, please," the woman said. "I'll get you some water."

  Becca's eyes snapped toward her. YYOU FUCKING SIT DOWNN

  The woman planted herself in her chair hard, her arms gripping the armrests.

  NNOW, I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHINGG

  ______________________

  The faceless woman stepped down as if walking down a flight of stairs, only there were no stairs. Her legs moved gracefully downward until it stood on the roof.

  She approached Becca, and looked at her for a moment, as if considering what to do about her.

  The faceless woman's voice spoke in her mind: WWHYY BE A PRINCESSS...

  ...WHENNN YOU CAN BE A QUEENNN?

  She withdrew a blade, and with one smooth motion, drove its point through Becca's faceless father's heart.

  Becca screamed then. Screamed and screamed and screamed.

  The faceless woman reached forward and touched Becca's forehead. Red light exploded in her mind, and she lost consciousness.

  ______________________

  She sat in the front row, black dress, struggling to hold back tears. Don't you cry. Don't you dare fucking cry when you caused this.

  The memorial service was quiet, just family, friends, and a few colleagues from the bureau in attendance. Becca thought she must be the only student there. She didn't recognize any others there.

  "I understand one of Hal's students would like to speak? Miss Miller?"

  Becca stood and walked to the podium. She stood there, gripping the wood of the lectern for a moment, and tried to keep her voice from shaking.

  "Hal Shepherd...sounds strange to me...I never called him by his first name." There was soft sympathetic laughter at this. "Mr. Shepherd, he wanted to be called Shep. That's how I knew him: Shep. He was the first person in a long time to really take an interest in me. To...try to make me a better person. Make me, I don't even know. Something I was supposed to me, meant to be, but never really was." She paused, her eyes searching the ceiling.

  "And I thanked him by killing him for it."

  Murmurs in the audience.

  "I just wanted to talk to someone, you know? When you can do the things I can do, there's no one you can talk to...no one who understands. Shep was like...he was like a...I thought I could talk to him. Tell him the truth. And it killed him." />
  A man in the front row stood. "Okay, I think that's-"

  SSHUT UP AND SIT THE FUCK DOWNN

  The man's mouth clapped shut. He teetered over the chair and let himself plop back down into it. Becca reached out with her mind and seized the others in the audience, the pastor, the people in the back offices of the church, everyone.

  EEVERYONE JUST SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET UNTIL I'M FINISHEDD

  "There. Good. Now you know what happened first hand. Why Shep was so freaked out. Why he had his heart attack. Because of me. Because of ME! Why? Because I can't stop being some walking cliché? Like Tyler said? I latch on to the first...first father figure that comes along and I think my life is going to be different because of HIM? Because I can't do it on my own? Well fuck that." The tears began to spill down her cheeks. "FUCK THAT. From now on, I don't make that mistake."

  Her mind was filled with the sound of panicked mental screams.

  SSTOP YOUR WHINING. EVERYTHING'S GOING TO BE FINE. I'M GOING TO DO TO YOU WHAT I SHOULD HAVE DONE TO HAL SHEPHERDD

  She stepped down from the podium and walked down the aisle.

  NNONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO REMEMBER I WAS EVER HEREE

  Becca took a long pull off the bottle and set it down on the floor next to her: a 20 year old scotch the clerk at the liquor store had handed her for free, just before she made him erase his store's security tape and erased his memory herself. She had paused for a moment, considering making others in the store shop for her, carry her things, give her their money...she had come so close to enslaving them all.

  In the end, she had clutched the bottle to her chest and walked out, fast.

  She held up her Blackberry and dialed Tyler's apartment number.

  His smooth voice spoke in her ear: "Hey, I can't blame you for trying to get in touch with me, but I'm out having fun, which is where you should be! Leave a message." BEEP!

  "God, I hate your fucking message, you sound like a total douche." Becca wiped tears away from her face and tried to sniff quietly so he wouldn't hear. "Listen, Tyler...I've tried calling your cell. Please call me back. Please. I think I'm in trouble here. I really think I'm in trouble. I need help, and you're the only one-" A beep on the other end signaled that the machine had cut her off.