Eternal Life Inc.

by James Burkard

  How many times had he looked in and seen her here, running endless treadmill miles at her own reflection on the mirrored wall and when she/it saw him watching, it bared her teeth and gave a howl of triumph.

  “Enough!” he screamed at the ghosts haunting this room. Why the hell had he come down here anyway? For peace? What a laugh.

  He climbed back up the stairs. He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. He could just as well accept that and try to get ready for the trip tomorrow. Diana wanted to leave early, but Jericho had convinced her to wait at least until noon to give Harry a chance.

  Harry, he thought. At least he hadn’t betrayed everyone, although it wasn’t for want of trying. The wolves tried to get possession of Harry under his last resurrection. It looked like they almost succeeded. For a while he and Jericho were afraid they had. Even the wolves weren’t sure. At least I managed to keep them away from him when he woke up, he thought.

  Something about Harry scared them, and now Roger knew what it was. According to Jericho, the wolves thought he might be a prophesied King of the Dead who was going to stomp the shit out of them. Roger had his doubts and so did Diana, but the wolves wanted to make sure. When the sons of bitches realized possession hadn’t taken, they were furious. They forgot all about getting Harry to sign a new contract and wanted to shoot him up with black ice on the spot.

  I had to do some fancy footwork to convince them otherwise, Roger thought. The stupid fucks weren’t thinking straight. They weren’t used to being crossed. “Masters of the Universe!” Roger snorted with contempt. They hadn’t even thought about what would happen if Harry hadn’t shown up for the media this morning.

  It had been a hard resurrection thanks to the wolves, and he was already a day late. Rumors were spreading fast about all the people not coming back from resurrection, or coming back changed. It was getting harder and harder to keep the lid on. If Harry hadn’t shown up at that press conference, it would have blown that lid right off. There would have been no possibility of containment.

  When he finally got that through their thick “Masters of the Universe” skulls, they had reminded him again of what would happen if he didn’t get Harry to sign a new contract that would give them another shot at him and keep the whole charade going a little longer.

  And I did my best to oblige them, Roger thought bitterly, as he walked past the entrance to the living room and detoured over to the bar. “Screw it, I need a drink”, he muttered. He needed more than one drink but with what he had in front of him tomorrow, one drink would have to do. He poured a tumbler of vodka and toasted his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “Here’s to you, Harry! Did you know I saved your ass? Did you know they probably spiked the water on your bedside table with black ice? Only you never touched it, did you?”

  Roger’s lips curled back in a feral grin. “Especially not after I dropped my cigarette butt in it. I bet that pissed off the wolves hiding behind those two-way mirrors, but hey, by then I had nothing to lose, did I?”

  He tossed back his drink and said, “At least I made sure you got out of there in one piece. No matter what else you think of me, I did do that.”

  As he put his glass down, he looked past his reflection in the mirror to the reflected image of the living room. He closed his eyes and grabbed the edge of the bar hard enough to splinter wood. Ghosts, this whole fucking house was full of ghosts! Why did he have to come back here after last night and why the hell did he have to come back to this room? He looked down at the empty tumbler. Well, the answer to that last one was logical enough, a drunk’s logic.

  The room was just as they left it after they finished torturing Susan. They wanted to make sure he got the message. They had Susan trapped inside herself while they used her body and her social position to throw wild parties, orgies of unspeakable perversions, to lure other lambs to black ice addiction. And he accepted it. What else could he do? They had Susan and every once in a while they would bring her back just to remind him that she was still there and that if he played along, maybe, just maybe, he might get her back one day.

  He looked at the overturned chair and the handcuffs that still dangled from one of the back slats. And sometimes, he thought, they would bring her back to teach him a lesson, like they did last night.

  43

  The Black Wolf Bash

  There were four of them. They came home with Susan. At first, Roger was angry and irritated. They knew he was going to be home that night. One of the little concessions he had been able to wring out of the sons of bitches was that they would leave him alone when he was here. If they wanted his cooperation, they could at least spare him the sight of them pawing his wife’s body in another one of their orgies. He had been wrong, though; they weren’t there to throw another orgy, they were there to teach him a lesson.

  He had been alone, drinking in the dark, when Susan walked in and turned on the lights. She leaned against the doorframe and looked at him with that mocking, provocative smile that the wolves had given her. She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair and licked her lips with a quick little flick of her tongue. “Roger Dodger,” she cooed and gave him a slow, sultry smile full of perverse promise. God, how he hated them for what they had turned his wife into. She stumbled into the room trailing an expensive fur cape across the carpet. Her walk was unsteady as if she had been drinking too much. “Roger Dodger,” she mocked again. She–they knew how much he hated it when she called him that.

  She came over and took the drink out of his hand and tried to sit on his lap. She smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, and other men. He pushed her away angrily and was about to tell her to get the hell out when he noticed the four other men who had slipped into the room behind her. Four tuxedo-clad, black ice possessed addicts. They prowled around the room like curious animals, sniffing and snarling at each other; no longer necessary to keep up the pretense of humanness. Not in front of Susan, not in front of him. No, they were right at home.

  “I brought some friends home for you to meet, and then we’re all gonna party,” Susan giggled as she ruffled his hair and laid a possessive arm around his shoulders.

  “Now, be a good boy and say hello to, Rover, Lassie, Butch, and…Now what is your name?” she said, chewing on her fingertip with mock indecisiveness. “Oh yes, now I remember. Roger, meet, Wolfy!” She laughed triumphantly and the four, black ice possessed threw back their heads snapping and snarling and howling with laughter as they pranced around the room.

  “I don’t need this,” Roger said and began to get up.

  “Oh, but you do, Roger Dodger, honey,” Susan said and pushed him back down with surprising force. “You really do.” The four addicts circled around him, more than ever like a wolf pack, their lips pulled back in snarling smiles.

  “Wolfy” broke from the pack and instead began circling around Susan. He was sleek and slim with slicked-down, oily, black hair, a pencil thin mustache, and the attitude of a hotwired, car bomb. He licked his lips and growled deep in his throat as he circled in towards Susan.

  Roger suddenly realized he knew the guy, although the guy he knew usually didn’t wear a tuxedo. It wasn’t only that, though. The guy himself had changed physically. When Roger knew him, he was just a pale, skinny, pimple-faced wimp, a harmless, no-talent hustler. Well, he’s not that anymore, Roger thought.

  It was the wolves, of course. They liked their rides to be in top condition and that was one thing Anton Shane had never been. He was still thin but now it was wiry thin with whipcord muscles, clear skin, a healthy tan, and the attitude of the predator that rode him.

  Without warning, Shane lashed out, grabbed Susan’s arm, and dragged her roughly across the room.

  “Oooh,” she cooed. “Don’t you just love strong, forceful men.”

  “Shut up, bitch,” Shane snarled and slapped her hard across the face and threw her into a chair.

  “That’s enough, Shane!” Roger shouted and started to get up, but strong hands grabbed his shoulders and forced
him back down. An arm wrapped around his neck and held him in a chokehold.

  “No, Roger Dodger, it’s not enough,” Susan said, and put her hands behind her back as Shane took out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. As soon as he cuffed her to the chair, Susan went limp. Her head fell forward until her chin rested on her breast. Her long blonde hair fell loosely around her face.

  After a moment, she groaned and shook her head slowly. “Where am I?” she asked. “What’s happening?” She slowly lifted her head.

  “No!” Roger screamed and tried to pull free. “No, don’t do this!”

  Susan looked around confused and uncertain. “Where am I?” she muttered. “Roger?” she said when she caught sight of him. “Oh, Roger,” she cried happily.

  “Shut up, bitch!” Shane stepped around and hit her brutally in the face. The heavy signet ring on his finger tore a long, bloody gash across her cheekbone.

  “No-o-o!” Roger screamed and tried to get free, but the chokehold tightened and dragged him back down coughing and gagging. “Susan,” he whispered hoarsely. “Oh god, no!” They had brought Susan, the real Susan, his Susan, back once again, to torture and teach him a lesson.

  He screamed in helpless, frustrated rage as they beat her unmercifully while she cried to him for help. At last they stopped. Susan’s head hung limply, her body racked by sobs of pain and shame. They’d ripped away the front of her gown exposing her bruised breast.

  “Please, Roger, make them stop,” she moaned as Shane leaned over and licked her breast and leered at Roger.

  “Stop it!” Roger screamed. “What do you want from me? Just tell me! You don’t have to do this. Just tell me!”

  Shane sucked one of Susan’s nipples into his mouth and bit down so hard she screamed and tried to twist away. He held on for a moment longer, watching Roger the whole time.

  “Shane, you son of a bitch, I swear I’ll kill you for this!” Roger rasped.

  Shane smiled at him with dead eyes while he slowly caressed Susan’s breast. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he said, “What did you say?” and squeezed until Susan moaned with pain.

  “What do you want from me?” Roger said in defeat. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  “That’s better,” Shane smiled and released Susan’s breast and wiped his hand on his trousers as if he had just been handling something dirty.

  “What we want is Harry Neuman.”

  “I don’t understand,” Roger said. “You got him. He came back possessed, didn’t he?”

  Shane looked at him and Roger felt the rage and frustration boiling behind those flat, dead eyes. “We’re not sure,” he said at last. “We missed him when he resurrected last time. Why was that? We never miss. We’ve found traces of him out there.” Shane tossed his head as if to indicate someplace else.

  Roger knew what he meant by “out there”. It was where the black wolves came from. “Out there” was their hunting ground, where they captured and ate lost kas. What the hell was Harry doing “out there”? How did he get out there without dying? “There must be some mistake,” he said and knew immediately the mistake was his.

  “Wrong answer,” Shane growled and casually backhanded Susan, splitting her lip. “We can smell him out there. How does he do it? What is he after? How did he get away from us?”

  “I tell you I don’t know!” Roger said as he watched a trickle of blood run down the side of Susan’s mouth. “Please don’t hurt her anymore. I’ll do anything you want, but I can’t tell you what I don’t know!”

  “If Harry gets away from us tonight…” Shane smiled and put his hand under Susan’s chin and lifted her head. Susan opened her eyes and looked at Roger. “Please help me,” she pleaded. “Please get me out of here.”

  Shane put a finger to his lips and shook Susan’s head back and forth. “Sh-h-h-h, I’m talking.”

  Roger could see how Shane’s finger dug into her jaw. “Now, as I was saying, if Harry does get away from us tonight…” Shane casually slid his hands around Susan’s throat and began to squeeze. “…You make sure he signs another contract with us as soon as he wakes up.” Susan fought for air; her eyes bulged with fear while her body flopped from side to side.

  Roger struggled to get free, twisting and kicking and screaming obscenities.

  “Do we understand each other?” Shane yelled and squeezed harder.

  Roger gave up his struggle and bowed his head and sobbed, “Yes! Yes! Now stop!”

  Shane nodded with a satisfied smile. “Good. I think we have a deal,” he said and released Susan’s throat.

  Roger stared at the handcuffs dangling from the overturned chair. After they were through torturing Susan, they took her ka away again to wherever they take kas and a black wolf once again took possession of her body. Seeing that transformation was almost worse than watching the torture, Roger thought, and tossed back the rest of his vodka. He closed his eyes and concentrated on it burning down his throat, hoping that it would burn away the memories.

  He wondered sometimes why they didn’t take him too, but maybe they knew they didn’t have to as long as they had Susan. He wondered where she/it was tonight. No, he didn’t want to think of that!

  He threw away the empty glass, grabbed the vodka bottle, and stumbled across the room to the sliding glass doors leading out onto the terrace. “Off the lights,” he said as he pushed open the doors. A cool breeze greeted him as the room went dark behind him.

  The moon was up. It would be full in a few days. He wondered if he would be alive to see it. He wondered if it mattered anymore.

  Tatters of clouds raced across the face of the moon. Rain coming, he thought as he walked across the flagstones to the edge of the pool. He watched the moon’s reflection jump and break as the breeze stirred the water.

  He thought of the cigarette butt floating in the glass of water beside Harry’s bed and his lips curled in a feral smile. “I bet you didn’t know they spiked your water with black ice, did you, Harry?” he asked. “I pulled your chestnuts out of the fire on that one, and I did it again when I ran interference so you could walk out of the building afterwards without getting whacked. I bet you didn’t know that either.” He waved the vodka bottle dismissively. “Doesn’t matter…it’s not much to be proud of anyway.” His face split in a sudden derisive grin. “But these days I’ll take whatever I can get!”

  He looked down the dark slope of the hill, behind the pool, to where phosphorescent waves broke against the dark beach and the moon sparkled on the water. He loved this view. It was why he bought this island in the first place and built just here. In the distance he could see the glow of New Hollywood like a luminous haze on the horizon.

  He raised the vodka bottle to the moon. “Here’s to you, Harry, wherever you are,” he said with tears in his eyes. “That’s two you owe me.”

  44

  The Day after the Night before

  Roger woke up and groaned. He wondered where he was. Wherever it was, it hurt. His body was stiff and cold and…wet. In fact, he was soaked to the skin. He tried to open his eyes, but they were so gummed up the lids had trouble coming unstuck. When he finally blinked them open, he was rewarded by rays of bright morning sunlight that felt like someone driving red-hot ice picks through his eyeballs and pinning them onto the back of his skull.

  “Oh, screw this,” he moaned. As he moved his arm to cover his face, his hand hit an empty bottle and sent it spinning across the ground. Roger opened one eye. “Floor,” he corrected and watched the bottle roll across the polished oak parquet floor and under a sofa. He carefully raised his head and looked around. He was lying in a puddle of rainwater, half in and half out of the open sliding doors to the terrace.

  His mind started coughing and sputtering out thoughts like a rusty, old motor. He must have been trying to get in out of the rain when he passed out. The last thing he remembered was talking to Harry, trying to make him understand that he never meant to hurt or betray him. But Harry wasn’t really there, and it did
n’t matter anyway.

  He thought of Susan…“Oh shit!” he shouted, and sat up too fast. The world rocked and rolled and his head was filled with a thousand bright pieces of exploding shrapnel. He squinted at his watch and cursed. He ignored the pain in his head and the stiffness in his body and managed to get up. Then he stumbled back into the house with the wet, terrycloth robe slapping against his bare shanks. He had to meet Jericho and Diana in an hour and hadn’t even begun to get ready.

  He took a stim-tab, shaved and showered, took another stim-tab and began to feel half-way human again. He pulled on a thin body stocking of spider-spin armor and on top of that new khaki brown, whipcord trousers and matching shirt. Absently, he slipped on the elegant leather-tooled shoulder rig he always wore. It contained one of the newest R-pistols that weren’t even on the market yet, a deadly little equalizer and status symbol all in one.

  Diana had told him that where they were going they would not be able to take a grav-car, so he had better make sure he had hiking and camping gear and provisions for at least a week in case they had to rough it. He’d had a couple of outdoor types at Eternal Life pick up a pair of hiking boots and throw together a camping pack that he hoped would cover his needs. When he got home last night, he had dropped it in the front hall, planning to go through it later to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, but a bad case of bad memories got in the way.

  He snagged a light all-weather jacket from the closet and walked down to the front hall wondering why he came back here last night. There was nothing for him here but a world of pain. Maybe because this was where he and Susan had been happiest, he thought. This island, this house had been their dream. They planned and built it together. Maybe he returned to try to capture a tiny piece of the dream to take with him into the unknown. If that was the case, it was a dismal failure.