Redemption

by Richard Stephenson

  Charles smiled and paused a beat, studying Sebastian. The human body will always betray what the mind is thinking. “Why this fine establishment of course! Now that Mr. McCallon will be unable to collect his fifty percent I imagine you have big plans in store. Am I right?”

  “Wh- why do you care? You gonna take his fifty percent?”

  “No, no, no, Mr. Curry. I wouldn’t dream of it! I have nothing but the utmost respect for a man that makes an honest living by the sweat of his brow. Besides, I’m not a fan of St. Louis, no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “Good. I just want the opportunity to propose a business venture to you. An investment in the future if you will.”

  “Uh, sure. I guess we can talk when you get back.” Sebastian had wished he’d never agreed to help this lunatic. Getting rid of Willie McCallon was too good to pass up. Scores of people would celebrate his death and even piss on his grave. After five minutes alone with Charles, he was actually starting to miss Willie.

  “Excellent, Mr. Curry. I’ll be back within the hour. Thank you for your help.”

  Sebastian simply nodded his head and watched Willie’s murderer stroll down the hall like it was just another day at the office heading for his lunch break. Sebastian thought back to the violence of the previous decade he had gone to great lengths to avoid at all costs. Some would call Sebastian a coward, Sebastian considered himself smarter with a very strong sense of self-preservation. He was a man of science and his mind was his only weapon. And since his mind had not attained superhero powers that could stop vicious beatings, avoiding conflict and often hauling ass in the other direction was the most logical solution.

  Sebastian stood in the deserted hallway for what seemed like an eternity before Charles returned. The bartender felt terrified under the steely gaze of assassin. Sebastian simply stared back at Charles not having a clue if he should be doing something. Charles enjoyed making the man uncomfortable.

  “Mr. Curry?”

  “Uh, yeah?”

  “Would you please open the door?”

  “Oh, yeah, hold on.” Sebastian fumbled in his pockets for the key and opened the door. He stood back and allowed Charles to step in and followed him. Once they were inside, Sebastian locked the door.

  “Do you have a laundry cart, Mr. Curry?”

  “I changed the sheets in here myself.”

  “I’m not concerned about fresh linen, Mr. Curry; I mean to dispose of the dearly departed Mr. McCallon.”

  “Got it, sure, we got a laundry cart. I’ll go get it.”

  “Not so fast, Mr. Curry. Mr. McCallon isn’t going anywhere. Besides, my plan is to wait until nightfall to move the body. The laundry cart can wait for now. I just wanted to ensure that you had one just in case I had to make other arrangements. I’ve been very eager to chat with you, Dr. Biggs.”

  Sebastian felt his heart leap up into his throat. He did his best to remain calm. He tried to think fast and come up with something to say but all he could manage was a confused look.

  “I know who you are, doctor.”

  “I’m not a doctor. Just a bartender. Wouldn’t be a very good one, can’t stand the sight of blood.” The bartender looked down at the bloody remains of Willie McCallon and grimaced, followed by a goofy smile that said see what I mean? Yuck!

  Charles smiled and sat down in the rickety chair next to the corpse. He motioned for Sebastian to sit down on the bed, which he did. “Sebastian, you can relax, no need to maintain this charade any longer. I know you’re not a medical doctor; I was referring to the two doctorates that grant you the title. You received your first Ph.D. in astrophysics from Harvard and your second in artificial intelligence from MIT which makes you the most educated bartender in the world.” Charles laughed at his clever joke but all he got in return from Dr. Biggs was a look of horror. “In your first year at MIT you met Howard Beck, aged fifteen. The young lad was infatuated with your fiancé, wasn’t he? He insisted that you end the relationship because he was convinced he was going to marry your bride to be, which he eventually did some years later. You remained close friends with Meredith Beck and eventually become a co-founder of Beck Enterprises. I can assume that since you held the position of chief operating officer of Beck Enterprises for as long as you did that you were one of the few people Howard could tolerate. I might even venture a brave guess that the two of you were very close friends. Tell me, how did Howard take it when you left to head up NASA?”

  Sebastian decided the best course of action was to remain silent and not make matters worse.

  “I must say, Dr. Biggs, I’ve been looking for you for a very long time. Simon Sterling was convinced you were dead, but I was determined not to give up on you until I had proof. I had no idea when we first met that you were the man I was looking for. The only photograph I have of you is close to fifteen years old. Your plastic surgeon did some wonderful work. If Mr. McCallon hadn’t revealed your identity I would’ve never figured it out.”

  Sebastian tried his best to maintain a stone cold poker face but found it difficult given that he could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. Sprinting out of the room felt like the natural course of action but he knew Charles would probably break his kneecaps. Keeping his mouth shut for the time being still seemed prudent.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this day for so long, Doctor. It truly is an honor to finally meet you.” Charles smiled and paused a beat to allow Sebastian to speak. “Come now, Doctor, cat got your tongue?”

  “I told you, I’m not a doctor. My name is Sebastian Curry.”

  “I’ve had plastic surgery myself, more than once, actually. And for the same reason that you had yours, to shed one identity and slip into another. There is one thing that even the most skilled surgeon can never change – the eyes. Sure you can put on contacts and change your eye color, but there’s something about the eyes, something singular and unique. I look deep into yours and I know exactly who I see looking back at me.” Charles dropped his pleasant demeanor and looked sternly at Sebastian. “Doctor, let’s not waste any more time playing this game.”

  “What do you want?”

  Charles relaxed and leaned back in his seat. “Is it true that you were there when Howard brought Hal online for the first time?”

  Sebastian had hoped this day would never come, but he couldn’t deny its arrival. “No, Howard did his best work alone. He preferred to be free from distraction.”

  “I thought as much. Funny how history is rewritten, don’t you think?”

  “Howard’s wife and I were the first people that Howard introduced to Hal. Truth be told, Hal was online for weeks before Howard let us meet him. The more accurate version of events wasn’t exciting enough I guess.”

  “One of the most historic events in all of mankind’s brief existence and you were there. I envy you, sir.”

  “I hate to tell you, but you’ve come a long way and wasted many years finding me. Hal is gone. Nothing will bring him back. Howard should have never entrusted Hal’s care to Richard Dupree.”

  “Dr. Biggs, your expertise in artificial intelligence is not the reason I sought you out. Seeing as how you were the last man to head up NASA, I’m hoping you can help me get into space.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Death was Richard Dupree’s constant companion. No matter how hard he tried to keep death at bay, the people he came into contact with inevitably suffered a violent death. For this reason, he had spent the previous four years in seclusion. On rare occasions when he had to come into contact with people, he ended up either killing someone or getting someone killed. Today was no different. He felt no remorse for the bounty hunter he had killed. That man’s blood was on Maxwell Harris for sending him in the first place. Richard did, however, feel a great deal of remorse over the death of Father Elias. The elderly priest had dedicated his life to helping others with no expectation of earthly reward. The old man gave his life attempting to protect Richard and
that troubled Richard a great deal.

  The ex-Navy SEAL had a fierce sense of self-preservation and his instincts told him to move on and put as much distance as he could from this tragic ordeal. Death was almost always followed by consequence. Few people left this world without affecting the living, family and friends are left to deal with the aftermath. Some grieve and move on; others have their lives torn apart and never find a way to pick up the pieces. The ones that Richard Dupree were concerned with were those seeking vengeance. Brutal murder attracts vengeance in some form or another. While he did not personally take Father Elias’ life, those seeking retribution would not be bothered by the truth. They would blame Richard nonetheless. While Richard felt guilt over the man’s death, he did not feel guilty enough to pay with his own life. This simple reality screamed at Richard to get the hell out of there and not look back but he just could not bring himself to leave Father Elias above ground to rot in the sun. The man deserved better.

  Richard turned around and looked to the hillside to see how much time he had to bury the priest. He knew he had already wasted far too much time agonizing over what had happened and now he had a decision to make. At the bottom of the hill a few hundred yards away he spotted a row of houses. In front of one of the houses was a little boy staring back at him. Richard judged the boy to be maybe seven or eight and wondered if he witnessed the attack. The child didn’t appear to be upset or afraid, only curious at the sight of a filthy looking hobo at the top of the hill outside the church.

  If he keeps playing I have time. Richard willed the little boy to pick up the ball at his feet or get on his bicycle a few feet away. He did neither and remained in place looking directly at Richard. Come on, kid, nothing to see here, hop on your bike and ride away. The child just stood there looking at him. Richard knew he had to do something so he put on a big smile and waved. A look of terror washed over the boy and he began to cry. He turned around and ran towards the house screaming.

  Adrenaline surged and Richard fought the primal instinct to run in the opposite direction. He had to make a decision before a curious father headed his way to investigate. Richard looked back towards the church and saw the dead bounty hunter’s horse tied to a tree branch. He entertained the idea of securing the body behind the saddle and riding off. Once he was far enough away, he could give Father Elias a proper burial.

  The plan quickly faded as he saw the boy’s father emerge from the house with a baseball bat. The man saw Richard and started jogging up the hill. Richard looked at the fresh blood on his hands courtesy of the beating he delivered to the bounty hunter and knew things were about to go south in a hurry.

  “You there! Get your filthy ass out of here! No one wants you here! We don’t give handouts to bums so get the hell out of here before I beat your ass!” The man looked to be in his early thirties and the ravages of malnutrition had taken its toll on his health. It was obvious he went without so his son could eat. Richard could tell he was all bark. It was clear that he was hoping the baseball bat would be enough to scare Richard away without confrontation.

  “Look, mister, I don’t want any trouble. Just take it easy and listen to me. Something terrible just happened and I need your help.”

  The man raised the bat to shoulder level. “What happened? You got about two seconds to explain the blood on your hands or I’m gonna start swingin’.”

  “About ten minutes ago I was in the church talking to Father Elias when this crazy guy showed up. He stabbed him to death before I could kill him. I tried to stop it, he was gonna kill me too so I had no choice.”

  “What’d you say? Someone got stabbed to death?”

  “That’s what I said. Right over there.” Richard pointed through the tall grass at the bodies. “That man killed Father Elias before I could kill him.”

  The man took his eyes off Richard for the first time and looked at the carnage ten feet away. “Fuck! Oh, Jesus, no! You’re an animal!” The man started towards Richard with the bat cocked behind his head. He nervously took a few steps and hesitated before swinging, hoping Richard would start running. The hesitation only served as an obvious telegraph as to what was about to happen. Even if the man came at him full speed, Richard wouldn’t have had any trouble disarming him. Richard thrust both hands forward and latched onto the man’s wrists and twisted the bat free.

  “Stop! I don’t want to hurt you! I’m telling you the truth! It happened just like I said!”

  The man dropped to his knees and raised his arms to protect his head. “I’m sorry! Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Don’t hurt me!”

  “Stand up, come on, get up.” Richard let the bat fall to the ground. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  Richard heard the telltale sound of a shotgun racking a shell into the chamber. He froze in place and slowly raised his bloody hands.

  “Good thing you done dropped the bat. Try anything I’ll cut you in half. Got it?”

  Richard knew better than to turn around and kept his hands up. “I know how this looks. This isn’t what you think. Can I turn around and talk to you?”

  “No. You’re fine right where you are.”

  “Look, you have to let me explain. This isn’t what it looks like.”

  “It looks like a drifter rolled into town and trouble followed him.” A set of handcuffs were tossed. “Danny, you stupid fuck, why’d you come up here by yourself? Put those cuffs on him.”

  “Shut up, Virgil! How was I supposed to know what happened? My boy said he saw a bum wanderin’ ‘round and I come up here to chase him off.”

  “Whatever. Hey, drifter, get on your stomach and put your hands in the small of your back. Stand up, you die.”

  “I’ll do whatever you say, just take it easy. Will I have a chance to explain myself?” Richard slowly went down to his knees and then lay on his stomach.

  “Oh you’re gonna have plenty of time to explain things to the judge.”

  Danny picked up the baseball bat and slammed it down hard on Richard’s buttocks. “Stay your nasty ass on the ground, you hear me?” Danny placed the handcuffs on Richard’s wrists.

  Richard laughed. “Judge? You boys got a judge?”

  Virgil kicked dirt in Richard’s face. “Damn right we got a judge. Five local towns in these parts formed a militia to protect ours. Been goin’ strong for a year now. Judge’ll be right proud we bagged us two vagrants before supper. Once he’s done with you you’ll actually do some honest work for a change. He puts bums like you to work. I hear they’re working on putting up walls around our fine cities to keep trash like you out.”

  Richard spat dirt out of his mouth. “Two?”

  “Ain’t you listenin’, drifter? I done said the militia’s protectin’ five towns, not two.”

  “You said two vagrants.”

  “Yeah, first one’s the reason I come up here. One of his hands all broke up. Said he and his friend were at the church prayin’ when a crazy lookin’ hobo come in all psycho. Said the guy up and stabbed the priest to death and slit his friend’s throat wide open. Said the guy smashed his hand so he couldn’t pray no more and let him go. Now I ain’t no detective but this all looks like everything he described. Watcha say, Danny? Sound about right?”

  “Sure looks like it. But this one said pretty much the same thing about the dead guy over there. Said he was the one did the killin’.”

  This is what I get for trying to do the right thing. Should have hauled ass out of here. “The guy with the broken hand is lying his ass off. I was in the church with Father Elias and they came in looking for trouble. They killed the priest for no reason and wanted to kill me. I have every right to defend myself.”

  “Save it for the judge, drifter, I don’t give a shit. Time to go, get up.”

  ***

  While Richard had spent the previous four years in seclusion, he did, however, maintain constant surveillance of what was left of the former United States. Whenever he moved from one place to th
e other, he made it a point to observe, from a distance, the nearby towns along the way to better prepare himself should trouble follow him, which it often did. With the Pacific States of America and the Unified American Empire relics of the past thanks to the Chinese War, a nationwide or even statewide government could not be found anywhere. It was common to see fortified towns with armed patrols and secured gates monitoring entry. The once great nation had reverted to a vast collection of medieval castles.

  In all his time wandering about, Richard had never seen anything close to a collection of scattered towns banding together to form a militia and pulling it off with any degree of success. Such an endeavor required an infrastructure and government of sorts, a small group of people telling a larger group of people what to do. Much like the nationwide government that had collapsed eleven years prior, any time two or more towns tried to band together, corruption and violence led to their downfall. Richard was both curious and terrified to see how these hillbillies managed to keep it together for a year.

  “When’s the last time you washed your nasty ass or put on fresh clothes?” Virgil sat atop his horse pulling Richard along behind him by a rope.

  “Don’t know, not planning on it anytime soon.”

  “That’s disgusting, the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “People tend to steer clear of you when you look like I do.”

  “Folks might also be inclined to think you’s a crazy person goin’ ‘round killin’ people.”

  “Folks like this judge of yours?”

  “I ain’t gonna lie to you, drifter, things ain’t lookin’ to go your way.”

  Richard was not delusional enough to think this “judge” would care to hear his side of the story. Once the bounty hunter produced the wanted poster to the judge and revealed Richard’s war criminal status, the chances of Richard regaining his freedom would be a challenge.

  Time to start planning my escape. “What happened with the guy with the broken hand? You find him or did he come to you?”