He watched her move around the kitchen, oblivious to him, her hair tied up in a loose ponytail, stray tendrils in her face. She’d found a sweatshirt in his closet that fit and looked rested and ready for the day.
It was a view he could have gotten used to, in another world, in an alternate reality where he could join her in making food; they could drink coffee, they could make love, then plan the afternoon and a whole lifetime together.
It was a vision that was never meant for him. It was a vision for ordinary people. It could have been meant for her if none of this had ever happened…if Sigmund, and Infinium, and Raze had never happened. He was partly to blame for the danger she was in now, and he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.
She sensed his presence finally and looked up at him. She smiled.
Good morning. I thought it was my turn to cook.
Again, that feeling overtook him, that mixture of protectiveness and possessiveness, desire and…no. Raze shook the sentiments away. You didn’t hurt things you cared about. You didn’t destroy the lives of people you loved. And he was about to shatter Aislen’s world yet again. Because there was no way they could go out and find the house she wanted to find. And there was no way she was ever going to be able to see her mother again. If he was going to protect her, they needed to leave.
Come on down. It’s almost ready.
Raze wanted to go back to the bedroom, grab the contingency bag, then grab her by the hand and run out the door. But watching her set their plates on the counter and seeing a smile on her face that he had never seen before, while she looked at him, was too tempting. He couldn’t bear to break her heart, not yet.
He reluctantly descended the staircase. He’d try to break it to her gently. He sat down on the stool in front of his plate, and though it looked delicious, his stomach was already full of dread. He didn’t know where to begin.
Aislen hopped onto the stool next to him and started eating with enthusiasm.
Can we leave as soon as we eat? I have a general idea of where we need to go.
Raze groaned internally. She had such high hopes about that house and what she thought she would find there. But it wouldn’t matter what they found there; it wouldn’t solve their problem. They still had to leave.
He turned to face her, caught her by the thighs and turned her to face him.
Aislen…I’m sorry to have to tell you this…but we’ve overstayed our safety net here. And in my new state, I can’t fake it with The 8, or Grant. And I can’t take you there and subject you to that life, even if it bought you time. We can’t waste time looking for that house, or looking for what you think you will find there. We have to leave.
Aislen’s eyes became stormy. But you promised! Last night you said “yes!”
I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. And I wanted you to calm down so you could rest. But it isn’t a good idea. It’s a dangerous idea.
You don’t even know what I saw! How can you say that?
I know from my experience with Infinium that we can’t afford to lose time. Look, I planned for this a long time ago, prepared for a day that everything would fall apart. And that day has come. I have money, passports, burner phones…We can get away from here, get Infinium off our scent, and buy us time. But we have to leave the city now.
The storm grew. Then you go! Go! Nothing is stopping you! But I am going to find that house! Sigmund murdered my grandmother there! Right in front of my father! He was only a child! And then Sigmund took him and did who knows what to him! Whatever it was, it made him run…and he ran for the rest of his life! He’s still running! I am not running, Raziel! I am not abandoning my mother and running for the rest of my life!
Aislen, look…
No! You look! She held the amulet up from her neck, showing him the labyrinth. It had grown darker by two stones. The emerald and topaz had turned to onyx. He looked back up at her. She had tears in her eyes. Astrid and my father. I lost them last night in that dream, and when I woke up, the stones had died.
What makes you think that’s it? Raze was doubtful. Who else have you lost? Why the other stones?
I think the first one was Thomas. I think the second one was my great grandfather. And I think the third one is Troy.
Sigmund? Troy? Why are they a loss? Raze was not only skeptical now but he was also annoyed that she would consider Troy a loss.
When Troy killed Sigmund, a part of my history died, a piece of my lineage. It’s not that I care; in fact, I’m relieved. But there are still things I will never know now that he’s gone.
And Troy? Raze tried to contain the irritation he felt.
I lost an illusion of Troy. Her thoughts were wistful. I lost who I thought he was, and what I thought we could be.
That’s what he was afraid of. Raze felt the familiar edge of jealousy rise up.
You can’t change what Troy did to your great-grandfather, Aislen, Raze said, trying to make her feel better. And you cannot change what Sigmund did in the past. The past is done.
No… I could have! I could have changed everything! I could have created a distraction and helped Astrid fight…like my father was trying to do. But I didn’t! I stood by and let Sigmund drown her! My father saw me when I was there…he was so little, and he knew I was there with him. And I didn’t do anything to save him.
Raze didn’t know what had happened. He was aware that Astrid Lange had been eliminated, along with Thomas Reed, but he didn’t know the circumstances surrounding it.
It was good that you didn’t stop it, Aislen. If you’d changed the course–
I know! I could have eliminated myself from ever being born. But that’s not good! Seriously? I am alive for this?! So I could start running? So I could leave my mother behind? I should have sacrificed that possibility and given my father a chance instead.
No! It was Raze’s turn to be angry now. Don’t talk like that. If you didn’t exist– he stopped. Where would he be? That was the question. He’d be the same Raze that he was before. It would have been simple. Or maybe Preston would not have unwillingly helped Sigmund build a mind control empire, and Raze would have just been a stoner playing video games in his parents’ basement the rest of his life. And he never would have crossed paths with an Aislen Walker and have his world turned upside down, or his soul turned inside out.
What? If I didn’t exist…what?
Raze shook his head. Never mind.
Aislen snorted, See? The world would have been better off.
No, he didn’t see, not like she thought he did, but he let it go.
Listen to me, please, she grabbed his hand, sending a course of energy through his body. My father showed me something there before he left. He showed me where to find something. And he wants me to find it. You felt the amulet last night!
She grabbed hold of the amulet with her other hand, still holding his tight. If this amulet is a guide, and you know it is, this is definitely the right thing to do. It’s the next step. Please Raziel, let’s just take this one next step. We can figure out what to do next, after. If that means we run, fine, I’ll run. But I owe it to my father to see what is there first.
I have to go there Raziel. I have to go to that house. If I don’t, I may lose everything else; people I can’t bear to lose. She looked down at the amulet, then back up at him. It made Raze wonder if he was one of those stones.
A solid part of Raze felt it was a bad idea, but Aislen was right. He could still feel the amulet’s positive resonance in her hand.
He sighed. Okay. We’ll go. But you have to be prepared for the next step, too. If we have to run, I want you ready. No arguments, you get me?
Deal. She agreed readily, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling.
Raze knew she was putting too much hope in what they would find there and was afraid of what her disappointment would cost them.
He let go of her hand. You need to eat first. It may be a while before our next meal. He made it sound as grim as possible because it w
as. They were trusting an inanimate object and not his instincts.
Raze hoped it didn’t cost them their lives.
Twenty-Eight
Mathis inched his way down the long, dark hallway, lugging a tall pole laden with IV bags and monitors. A purple haze beamed through the portal at the end of the hall–not the kind of light at the end of the tunnel Mathis needed right now. That glow should have made him turn around and go back to his room, but there was also laughter and conversation coming from down there.
And he could use some company.
And maybe Sabine would be there.
Mathis plodded forward, schlepping the bweeping machine beside him. He’d gotten so used to the incessant squawk that he didn’t even hear it anymore. But its wheels were stubborn and weren’t turning, and it was slowing him down. He looked down at the floor and found that the wheels were buried in a thick, tan carpet. Since when did a hospital have carpet in the halls? That didn’t seem sanitary with all the blood and barf and shit and pee in this place! How the hell would anybody get well in a hospital with germ-infested carpet?
Mathis really wanted to see if Sabine was down there. And if she was with Troy Kellen, he really wanted to kick that Dookie’s ass. He grabbed the pole and hefted it off the floor, surprised it was incredibly light for being so fully loaded. He marched with it the rest of the way down the hall and into the lavender room.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t a hospital waiting room at all; it was a living room. And a bachelor pad from what he could tell. Mathis knew a bachelor pad when he saw one: the trashed couch, the ratty LaZBoy, the coffee table covered in Funyuns, Big Gulps, and flat boxes of half-eaten pizza.
And Sabine wasn’t there either, just a sloppy group of dudes, two lounging on the couch, one sprawled on the floor, one in the LaZBoy, and another sitting in a fold-up metal chair they probably dragged in from the garage.
All of them were wearing visors and a single black glove on one hand. They each held a simulated weapon, and they were all focused on the massive HD screen across the room. By massive, Mathis was talking 75 inches huge. And by HD, it was like 8K. He didn’t even know they made those yet.
Mathis recognized the image on the screen all too well. They were playing Demesne, in the primeval forest of Octave 6, to be exact. And they were engaged in a gruesome battle. Limbs were flying. Blood was spurting. In 8K, it looked as real as if they were in the jungles of Vietnam. Every time there was a decapitation the whole group would hoot with glee. Mathis figured they were fighting together as part of the same clan because none of them were dying and being sent back to Base Camp.
“Hey, guys! When we finish off these n00bs, ya wanna take a break and visit the 9th? I wanna test these Beta tactile gloves G just got. I hear that when you touch a girl’s titties, you can actually feel them in your hand!”
“No shit?” one of the couch potatoes said as they all kept hacking and shooting at their opponents.
“For real! I’ve been dying to test drive them ever since G got his new gear from QGS. God knows Amanda doesn’t let me touch her titties anymore.”
There was a round of laughter with another side of blood and guts, and everyone started chiming in their two cents.
“Ha! What I tell ya, Merch? That’s what happens when you get married. No more tits!”
“Yeah, and just wait… once you have a kid, you got nothin’!”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” the visor named Merch shouted. “No one told me when we tied the knot it meant my balls were getting tied!”
“Dude, we all told you that,” the gamer in the man-chair said. Mathis noticed he was wearing different visors than the others, a pair just like the ones Mathis had stolen from the Parrish house.
“Fuck that shit!” Merch said as he started going apeshit on the screen, turning into a single-handed slaughterhouse on the other clan. The rest of the group sat back and watched the horror show, rooting him on.
When the last three opponents ran off into the forest rather than sacrifice their hard-earned grind points, Merch roared with victory in the midst of his laughing clan.
“All right guys, c’mon. After that, I deserve a little sugar.” He honked his gloved hand at them.
“Okay, I’m down,” said Couch Potato 1.
“Me, too,” said Couch Potato 2.
“Yeah, you guys go on ahead,” LaZBoy said, taking off his glowing, purple glove. “I need to take a piss and get another beer. Plus, I don’t need to circle jerk with all you.”
“Yeah right, G! We know you like to fuck octagons when you’re alone,” Merch shouted.
“Yep! He’s a secret shaper when we’re not around,” a voice from the floor added.
“Ha. Ha. Fuck you. Y’all are just jealous I’m single and still get pussy,” G said.
“Badge will get you pussy…” Mr. Metal Chair chimed in, to which the rest of the group responded, “…but pussy will get your badge!”
Mathis frowned. That was an old cop adage. Were these guys cops?
“I’ll remember that,” G said as he pulled his visor off.
Mathis about fell over. It wasn’t just “G,” it was F’in G! Mathis looked around the room, wondering how many of his subordinates were underneath those visors. Is this what they all did on their RDOs? Ugh, kids nowadays.
But then Mathis remembered that he’d spent his whole first day off in that game and ended up attached to the bweeping machine next to him.
F’in G laughed as he made his way toward the hallway bathroom. As he passed by Mathis, he paused, cocking his head quizzically toward him as if something was off before shrugging and continuing down the hall.
The rest of the guys started catcalling and whistling, which told Mathis they’d made their way into the debauchery of the 9th Circuit. Merch was already groping at something with his gloved hand. It appeared to be quite large, whatever it was, and his mouth was slack in awe. Mathis recognized that hang-dog expression. Merch was Officer Merchant. Mathis had seen that same look on his face every time he caught him sleeping behind the old Kmart at 3 o’clock in the morning.
The toilet flushed down the hall, and F’in G emerged. He strolled past Mathis again, stopping in front of the television. The group started groaning.
“Get outta the way, G! You’re blocking the signal!”
F’in G continued walking into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Hey! Has anyone heard anything about Sarg?” he called out to the group as he opened the bottle and took a swig.
“It’s pretty bad,” said Mr. Metal Chair. “But they think he’s going to be all right without having to have open-heart surgery.”
Open-heart surgery?! It was that bad? It made his heart hurt thinking about it. And wait! How did this fool know so much about his medical condition?
“Ugh. Open-heart surgery at his age! That would suck,” Couch Potato 1 said.
“Maybe he should stop drinking so much beer and lose a few,” the voice from the floor said.
Maybe you should go fuck yourself, Mathis said back.
“Maybe this is a sign he should retire already. Jesus, do we really need senior citizens on the force?” added the other couch boy.
What the fuck? Who did these asshats think they were?!
“Aww guys, stop. He’s a good dude. He has a good heart, even if it’s a bit broken right now. And he’s fun to work for. I’ve learned a lot from him this year.” It was F’in G.
Mathis looked at him, getting a bit choked up by his words. Of all people, it was him saying something like this.
“You’re right, G. Sorry. I’m just selfish. I’d like to make Sergeant before my kids start college, that’s all. But I’d rather he retire, not die, to vacate that position,” said the man on the floor. “We can go visit him tomorrow if he’s doing better.”
“You don’t have to worry about Mathis. He’s keeping some pretty fine company right now,” Mr. Metal Chair said. “That smokin’ hot waitress from the Old Mill…”
For fuck’s
sake, how did this fool know about Sabine? Mathis looked closer at Mr. Metal Chair trying to figure out who he was. Was that a pornstache peeking out from under the visor? Mathis checked out his arms; they were thick with golden brown hair. Hairy as a damn bear! Fucking Jackson! What was he doing here hanging with the Millennials playing video games?!
“Say what?! Mathis knockin’ boots with someone and we didn’t know about it?” Couch potato 2 said.
“Yep. And she is fine as fuck, let me tell you.”
Whoa, buddy! Get yer mind off my lady like that! Mathis said, feeling possessive.
“Good for him!” said the floor boy. “Maybe it will give him something to retire for.”
Damn, these guys are brutal, Mathis thought.
“Damn, you guys are brutal,” F’in G said, speaking Mathis’s mind. Had he heard him?
“Yo! Guys! Please don’t kill my vibe,” Merch said. “Right now I wanna concentrate on these titties! G, you really should get in here and try this out. Maybe you can get them to make a one-finger glove for this thing soon.” Merch started humping the air to a round of uproarious laughter. “If so, I am all in!”
F’in G shook his head. “Yeah, it would have to be pinkie finger size for you, though.” He wandered past Mathis again on his way back toward his man-chair. He stopped right next to him and surveyed the space. He seemed to look Mathis right in the eyes.
“Hey! Do any of you hear that beeping?” he asked the crew without taking his eyes off Mathis.
“Hey! Did anyone hear someone say I don’t give a fuck?” Merch said. “Just get over here and get back in the game! You’re missing out!”
F’in G frowned but turned back toward the chair and put his visors back on.
Mathis watched the group get back into their game, feeling a bit forlorn and so very tired. He wanted to get back in bed and go to sleep. He started back toward the door, passing by the black cube glowing purple on the floor.
This is the stupid fucker that got me into this situation, he thought and kicked it angrily. The image on the television zapped into static. As his coworkers behind him started cussing in frustration, the static sucked Mathis into the screen like a drain.
Time Walker: Episode 2 of The Walker Saga Page 20
