The Secret Manuscript

by Edward Mullen

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  With every dime he owned tied up in the investment account, Ben was back to being broke. The only things of value he had left were the manuscript and his computer, which he decided to move down to the secret room in case people came after him.

  “Do me a favour Ben, don’t mess with fate anymore. Your actions could have serious unforeseen ramifications on human history.”

  “Yeah, but that is true regardless of what I do. The future isn’t written yet, Kyle.”

  “Yes, it is, and it’s in that little book of yours.”

  “It’s not a book, it’s a manuscript. A book is what a manuscript becomes once it’s published.”

  “Well, whatever it is, I say you destroy it.”

  “But what about the science behind it?”

  “What science? We don’t know where that thing came from. The only other person who knew about it is now dead, the day after he won the lottery. The universe has a way of self-correcting. If you’re not supposed to have all that money, the universe will make sure you don’t end up with it.”

  “So now you are an expert on the universe?”

  “I’m just saying, you shouldn’t poke a stick at something you’re unfamiliar with. Eventually, it will bite back.”

  “That’s great. You’ll have a lot of time to sit around and think of really witty metaphors now that you’re broke and out of work. Meanwhile, I will be living the good life. You’re welcome to join me if you reconsider.”

  Ben and Kyle agreed to disagree. Kyle went upstairs and Ben went downstairs into the secret room to read more of the manuscript. Reading the manuscript became an addiction for Ben. This time, he was not necessarily looking for ways to profit from it. Instead he was trying to find out what happens to him. Kyle had planted the idea in his head that all the things he had done to make money would raise some red flags. If the SEC or the RCMP were to question him, he would have a hard time talking his way out of it.

  Another problem Ben had was the manuscript no longer reflected his life. He had altered his destiny and veered so far from the storyline that it was becoming ever more difficult to use it to predict the outcome of his life. Unless he found a way to realign himself with the story, his future would be unknown to him. Page after page, Ben continued to read events that did not happen to him.

  Frustrated, Ben went upstairs to get some fresh air. When he arrived at the top of the stairs, he heard a loud knock. Curious and paranoid, Ben cautiously approached the door. Whoever it was, he had no intentions of opening it. He tiptoed to the peephole and peered through. On the other side of the door were two well-dressed men, but not the same two men as before. They knocked again and demanded Ben open the door. It was as if they knew he was on the other side looking at them.

  Ben slowly backed away from the door just as it was kicked off its hinges. The thunderous crash struck fear into Ben’s heart. He panicked and froze like a deer in headlights. Ben was staring at two large men, neither one of whom presented any sort of ID or badge.

  One of the men lunged forward, grabbing Ben by his shirt. Ben struggled to get free under the man’s powerful grip, but it was no use, the man easily outmuscled him.

  Even though Ben had very little time to think, he wondered who the men were and what they wanted. Whoever they were, they were not complying with the standard protocol of a lawful arrest. This indicated they were not law enforcers.

  From upstairs, Kyle heard the commotion and came running. Upon his descent down the stairs, he witnessed two very large men apprehending Ben. The two men were oblivious to Kyle standing in the stairwell and proceeded to beat Ben to a pulp. For a moment, Kyle thought it would be best to stay out of it since both men were humungous. They were each around 6'5" and had athletic builds. For all intents and purposes, Kyle would not be of much help against the aggressors, but he knew he had to do whatever he could.

  Harbouring recessed childhood memories, Kyle became enraged and leapt into action. He grabbed the nearest man from behind, spun him around, and punched him in the face. The man staggered backward and tripped over his partner’s foot. Kyle then lunged forward with a superman punch that landed squarely on the jaw of the second man, causing him to let go of Ben. The punch was not enough to knock the man over, but it at least backed him up. Kyle grabbed Ben and yelled at him.

  “Come on, let’s go!” Kyle shouted.

  With Kyle’s help, Ben got back to his feet. Clutching his rib cage, he and Kyle ran out of the house. The two men did not move as fast, but were still quick to follow. As Ben and Kyle ran, the two men fired several shots in their direction. A series of loud pulsating gunshots echoed throughout the neighbourhood as speeding bullets whizzed by Ben and Kyle’s heads, narrowly missing them.

  “What have you gotten me into this time?” Kyle asked.

  “I have no clue, just keep moving.”

  Despite being the beginning of December, there was very little snow on the ground, which made it easier to run away. The temperature, however, was frigid, but their constant movement and adrenaline negated the chilling effects of the brutal Calgary winter. They both knew they would be dead if they did not find some place to hide. They rounded the side of a house, hopped a fence, and traipsed through several backyards. Clothes lines, half melted snowmen, and various kiddy toys were no match for the two as they darted over, around, and through the backyard obstacles like they were CFL running-backs. It was the fastest Ben had ever moved before. His legs were moving so quickly, it was as if he were no longer in control and instead was operating on pure reflexes.

  The two thugs soon realized they lacked the necessary agility to chase the two younger men. They wisely abandoned their pursuit on foot, but continued the chase in their car.

  A few blocks away, the sound of screeching tires could be heard, striking even more fear into the two boys. Ben and Kyle decided to stay put, finding refuge in a backyard storage shed huddled in the dark next to a lawn mower, a tool bench, and some indeterminate junk. Unless the men were to search every backyard in the neighbourhood, Ben and Kyle figured they would be safe for a while.

  “Who were those guys?” Kyle asked in a whisper.

  “I have no idea,” Ben said, still panting heavily.

  “What happened?”

  “They kicked in the door and then proceeded to accost me.”

  “Are you okay?” Kyle asked.

  “I’m a little banged up, but I don’t think anything is broken,” Ben said, feeling around for any damage. “Whoever those guys were, they’re definitely not cops. I’m no expert in the law or anything, but I think they should’ve showed me their badges or a warrant at least.”

  “Maybe they work for the same guy who robbed the bank — they could all be part of one big criminal enterprise. When you… you know… got involved and thwarted their operation, they must have found out who you were and decided to teach you a lesson and get some payback.”

  “They did try to kill us,” Ben added.

  “Yeah, that sounds about right. Any idea how they found you? You didn’t leave behind your ID when you ‘visited’ the robber, did you?”

  “No, and besides, my ID doesn’t have my new address on it. The only people who knew I was at the bank were two detectives.”

  “I’m assuming there were also a handful of customers and bank personnel, right?”

  “Yeah, but they wouldn’t know my name and where I live. I didn’t even step foot in the bank, remember?”

  “Well, the detectives figured out you were there, maybe someone else did as well. Or the detectives are on the take.”

  “Corrupt cops?” Ben said sarcastically. “That can’t be!”

  “So hired goons or corrupt cops, those are our two hypotheses?” Kyle asked.

  “Does it really matter who they are? Right now we need to figure out where we are going to sleep tonight. We definitely can’t go back to the house, and neither one of us have any money. Any ideas?”

  “Just one. Com
e on, follow me.”