by Q J Martin
“Hey, man. It’s your wife. It’s your anniversary. I’d just as well get her a book. Seems like they worked well-enough when you proposed.”
“That’s it!” Logan exclaimed.
“What? We don’t have to be here anymore?” Randell perked up at the potential possibility.
“No. I know what necklace to get her. Her favorite book is The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. She told me she’s read it every year since she was in grade school.”
“She’s a nerd. Whoopty-do.”
“Well, in the story, Frodo wears the One Ring on a necklace.” Logan pulled out his PH and began searching the web for something. “Picture this: I find her a first printing of The Lord of the Rings. I put it in a box. I wrap it up. She opens it. She sees the book. She’s amazed. She doesn’t even realize it, but once she pulls the book out, she sees a little white envelope underneath. She opens it up, and finds an authentic replica of the One Ring on a necklace.” Logan held his PH up for Randell to see the items he had placed in his cart.
“Sweet Jesus!” Randell exclaimed. “You’re already married to the woman. What are you trying to do by spending that sort of dough?”
“It’s our one year anniversary,” Logan answered defensively. “I want it to be special.”
“Well, it would certainly be something,” Randell conceded.
The display that floated in front of their faces transformed into a call animation. The ringtone echoed through the otherwise quiet jewelry store. A couple of the workers gave Logan an irritated gaze, and he quickly silenced it as the contact information came through.
The display told him that it was a call from Liz. It was marked as emergency. He walked off to the corner of the jewelry store and pressed the accept button. The display morphed into a live feed of her face.
“Liz?”
Her response was abrupt. “Logan, where are you?”
“I’m just catching up with Randell a little bit,” he said, turning down the area of field sensor to make sure that none of his surroundings were displayed on her end. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Logan, I need you to come home as soon as you can,” she said, ignoring his question.
“Why? Liz, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“I just need you here.”
“Are you ok?” Logan asked gravely.
“I don’t—” She stopped and put her hand up to her mouth to stifle a sob. “I don’t even know. I can’t explain it over PH. Please just come home.”
“Just stay there. I’ll be there in just a minute.”
Logan switched off his PH and looked at Randell. He looked just as concerned as Logan felt. Logan took a deep breath and headed for the exit.
“Do you need me to go with you?” Randell offered, running after him.
“Um…” Logan considered the offer. “No, not right now. Just,” he turned around and looked his friend in the eyes, “keep your PH on, would you? If I need any help, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“Will do,” Randell said, putting his hand on Logan’s shoulder.
Logan’s car drove up to the entrance and waited for him to get in. He took a deep breath and jumped into the seat. He slammed the door, and it drove off.
⌬
Logan switched the car to manual so that he could go faster than the speed limit. He activated an emergency code to any law enforcement in the area. If they chose to pull him over anyway, though, he had no idea what he would say to them. He didn’t even know what the emergency was himself.
A million and a half different scenarios of what it could be ran through his head, though. Each one was worse than the last, until he had fully convinced himself that he would find Liz lying on the ground, suffering a slow and painful death.
He pulled the car straight into the yard bolted out of the door. The car hadn’t even come to a complete stop yet, and its momentum nearly threw him into the house. He regained his balance, barged in and called out for his wife at the top of his lungs.
“Liz!” he shouted. “Liz! Where are you?”
He found her standing in the living room, just a few feet away from him. She was holding her hands behind her back, and she was failing beautifully at holding back the biggest of grins.
“Liz, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be working late again. Why are you at home? Are you ok? Please tell me you’re alright?” Logan bombarded her with questions, one after another, barely even pausing for breath in-between them.
“I took the day off. They’ll manage without me, hopefully. I just couldn’t work today. Not today. I couldn’t wait another second to tell you.”
“Tell me what, Liz?” Logan walked up and put his hands on her shoulders. “Is everything alright?”
“I think,” Liz said, taking a deep breath and holding it for a second before finally saying, “everything will be more than alright.” She swung her hands around and brought them up in-between them. She was firmly grasping something between her fingers.
Logan looked down to see what it was. She opened her hand, allowing him to take it from her, but what he saw didn’t make sense. He couldn’t comprehend the object that he was holding in his hands. It was impossible. It couldn’t be. There was simply no way.
⌬
Logan’s PH was ringing yet again. This was the fifth time in an hour that Randell had tried to call him.
“You’re going to have to answer it eventually, honey,” Liz whispered into his ear.
“But what do I say?” Logan contemplated. He sat up in bed and picked up his shirt from the floor. He held it up over his head and let it fall into place around him. The call switched to the answering machine, and Randell’s message began projecting in real time. “Unmute,” Logan commanded.
Liz rolled over and pulled the sheets up over her body as Randell’s voice reverberated through the room.
“…just checking to make sure the two of you are alright. You know, doing my whole job as best-friend and all that crap. I guess I’ll just try again—”
“Answer,” Logan said.
“Finally! There you are!” Randell exclaimed in a huff. “You had me freakin’ out, man.”
Logan didn’t say anything. He wanted to, but the words just wouldn’t come to him.
“What’s going on, man? Is Liz alright? Are you alright?” Randell asked, concern returning to his voice yet again.
Still, Logan didn’t respond.
“Dude, blink once if you’re being held captive. Blink twice if you need me to come over there, guns blazing. Was—” Randell stopped and leaned into the display to look closer. “Was that a blink? Was it two blinks? God, I think that was three blinks. We didn’t even establish what three blinks means! I’m calling in the cavalry.”
“We’re ok, Randell,” Logan inserted finally.
“Oh, thank God!” Randell said. “I know that it’s my duty as a friend to take a bullet for you and all, but I have a hot date on Saturday, and the last thing I wanted to do was show up in a cast… or a casket. Stitches would have been ok, though. Scars are cool.” Randell trailed off, apparently contemplating what type of scar would make him look most like a bad-ass.
“You’re not my friend,” Logan said, shattering his dreams.
“Whoa, what do you mean? What’s goin’ on, man?” Randell was taken aback.
“The dynamic of our relationship is changing, Randell. That’s what’s going on.” Logan took a deep breath.
“You don’t have to go dumping me as a friend just because I said your gift idea was too freakin’ expensive, man. I’ll take it back.” He held his hand up defensively.
Elizabeth sat up next to him, holding the sheet over her chest and resting her chin on his shoulder.
“Is that Liz?” Randell asked. “Liz, what’s going on? I know you don’t like me, but—”
“Just tell him already,” she said to Logan, not even acknowledging Randell’s presence on the PH display. “He’s suffered enough.”
&nbs
p; “Ok,” Logan sighed. He took a deep breath, then said, “Your position as friend is changing in six months. You’re going to be upgraded to uncle.” A huge smile spread across Logan’s face as he held the positive pregnancy test for Randell to see.
“Oh my God, that is so great!” Randell exclaimed. “You had me freakin’ out, you piece of crap! You’re going to have a baby! I can’t believe it.”
“We’re going to be parents,” Logan smiled again, gesturing to himself and Elizabeth. “And you’re going to be Uncle Randy.”
Chapter V
Logan set his glass of whiskey on the end table. He took off his jacket and threw it across the room toward the couch. As he did so, it passed through the holo-display. The hovering pixels of light that formed the three-dimensional image of Elizabeth’s face temporarily dispersed around the room, then reassembled again in front of him.
“I saw what happened on the news this morning. You were all over the reports. The man who saved the day. I guess you’re probably happy you took the job. Free advertising.”
“Honestly,” Logan sighed, dropping himself into the recliner in the corner of the room, “I’m just glad that I caught him in time. Things would have went a whole other way if I hadn’t.”
“Yeah. I bet the Senator is very thankful about that.”
Logan picked up the glass of whiskey. He swirled it around in his hand as he examined its contents longingly. He took a sip. “Honestly, you’d be surprised. I didn’t even think she could hate me any more, but the look she gave me after the fact… You’d think I’d tried to kill her myself.”
“Oh well. At least the rest of the world knows what you did for her. You did still get paid, though, right? With Keanu being arrested and everything.”
“Well,” Logan laughed. “It took a little doing, but yes, I finally managed to find my way to the lady who cuts the checks. When she realized how many checks she had to write for me, Randell, and all his friends… well, I didn’t make her day, either.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I still can’t believe that Keanu ended up being the one who tried to assassinate the Senator.”
“I know. I never once took him for a fanatic.”
“If he wanted to kill the Senator, I’d imagine he would have had plenty of opportunities, though.”
“Well,” Logan said, “none of them would have been public. I think he wanted to do more than just kill her. He wanted to make a scene. He wanted everyone to look back and see the Senator lying on the ground dead. The lab said the poison they found in the syringe would have killed her in fifteen seconds. Just enough time for him to step back and act shocked.”
“But to what end?”
“I don’t know. He was mumbling something about a dream telling him to kill her. He said we needed to stop something. A disease, an infection. Something like that.”
“Well, even if it made sense, it would still just be such a big risk. He was betting his life that no one on that stage would see him.”
“I think he was just completely off his rocker. I imagine no amount of reason would have gotten through to him.” Logan took another sip of his whiskey. “Could you put Glenn and Roselyn on? I’d like to talk to them before they go to sleep.”
Elizabeth walked off. The holo-display tracked her for just a couple steps, but when it registered that she was walking out of the room, it switched to a screensaver. It remained on, waiting for a new subject to display.
Logan heard some commotion outside. It sounded for a second like someone was shouting, or screaming. It wasn’t unheard of. Logan set his whiskey on the table anyway and shoved himself up out of the recliner. There was nothing impeding his movement. He hadn’t had as much whiskey as he would have liked yet. He would remedy that as soon as he had finished talking to his children.
He looked out the window. The sun had nearly set, but the streetlights weren’t on yet. Most of the houses around the neighborhood had their lights on. He didn’t mean to spy on his neighbors, but he saw a lot of commotion going on in most of the houses without even trying. Of course, in stark contrast, there was old Mr. Jameson, just sitting peacefully in his chair, listening to the radio, like he did every night.
“Daddy,” he heard Glenn’s voice behind him.
Logan looked back and saw both of his children being projected by the holo-display. He walked back to stand in front of them. “Hey, you two!”
“Mom told us about how you stopped a bad guy today and saved someone’s life and you’re a hero and everything!” Glenn exclaimed excitedly.
“Ha,” Logan laughed. “Well, it sounds a whole lot cooler than it actually was.”
Glenn grinned with pride. “So it must still be really cool.”
“How long can we stay here?” Roselyn asked.
“You and Glenn are going to be there until Sunday.”
Roselyn seemed happy to hear that, although Logan expected that if he had said she’d be there for another month, she would have been even more excited.
“Well, it’s been a long day. I love you both very much. I can’t wait to see you two bright and early Sunday morning.” Logan reached his hand out as if to touch them.
“You, too,” they both said in unison.
The connection was terminated, and the dots of light that formed Glenn and Roselyn’s faces dissipated in the air. A couple seconds went by, then the holo-display automatically switched over to the news channel. Logan picked up his glass and walked to the kitchen to get some dinner ready as the news played in the background.
“…after a thwarted assassination attempt on the life of Senator Johnson early this morning, the rollout of InstaRegen, commonly called ‘the Cure,’ went on without any other troubles…”
Logan walked to the fridge and pulled out a pack of Salisbury Steak and mashed potatoes. He slid his dinner into the reconstitutor. He chugged the remainder of his whiskey, then set his glass in the sink. He grabbed a larger glass from the cabinet and placed it under the drink dispenser.
“Whiskey with ice,” he said. “Actually,” he considered, “make it a triple.” As if he had ever planned for anything else. He picked up the glass and pulled his pill bottle out of his pocket.
“Don’t take with alcohol,” Logan laughed as he set a pill on his tongue. “Oh well.” He took a big sip of whiskey and swallowed the pill. It burned all the way down his throat. There was nothing better.
“…although there have been isolated cases of violence that some have attributed as a side-effect of InstaRegen…”
“People always want to have an excuse to act like the assholes they really are,” Logan muttered, pulling his dinner out of the reconstitutor. “It’s always total bullcrap.”
Chapter VI
Logan walked up the stairs to the second floor of his house. He finished the last of his whiskey as he entered the bathroom. He set the glass on the counter and turned the shower on, disrobing as he waited for it to warm up. The bruises on his face looked worse than they had an hour before, and they still throbbed.
He sighed.
There seemed to be two types of people in this world: the ungrateful, and the untrustworthy. Unfortunately, Logan had had to deal with both today.
He saw the steam seeping past the shower curtains. He shut the bathroom door to keep the heat from dissipating, then he stepped into the shower. The water ran through his hair, down his neck, and over his chest. It eased the pain in his sore muscles. He stretched and rolled his shoulders, then he closed his eyes and stuck his head under the water.
He listened to the sound of the water hitting the floor. He could even hear some loud discussions taking place, next door, he assumed. A less than happily married couple lived there. They were always going on about something. Finally, they went silent, and Logan was once again left with the sound of falling water and his own thoughts.
There was a creak in the floor. It sounded like someone was walking inside the house. Logan’s heart leapt out of his chest. He backed out of the spray of t
he nozzle and rubbed the water out of his eyes. He opened them, ready to see where the sound had come from, but he couldn’t make out anything. For some reason, the lights were off.
He reached for the shower curtain and yanked it back, but the room was pitch black. He stretched his hands out in front of him and walked across the room, feeling for the door handle. He opened it cautiously and took a tentative step into the hallway.
Creak.
He heard the sound again.
“He’s not dead,” a voice whispered in Logan’s ear.
He swung around, ready to pounce on whoever was behind him, but all he saw was his own reflection in the mirror at the end of the hallway. He was somehow illuminated, but just barely.
He took a deep breath and held it in, involuntarily. He took one cautious step, then another, then another, down the hall, looking for the source of the voice he had heard. It wasn’t until the fourth step that he realized that his reflection was not following his own movements.
The mouth of the man in the mirror, the man he had thought was himself, began moving its lips. A voice echoed in the back of his mind, a whisper. Like the previous one, it was barely audible.
“Don’t trust the family man,” his reflection hissed. The color of its pupils seemed to boil away, until there was nothing left but the white of its cold, dead eyes, looking right into Logan’s soul. “The monster in the night eats its young.”
Logan backed up as quickly as he could, not daring to risk looking away from his reflection in the mirror. It stood there, unmoving, not even blinking. Logan stumbled backwards until he hit something. He jumped. The mirror was out of his mind for only a fraction of a second, but when he looked back at it, he found that his reflection had returned to normal . The lights were on again, and he could see himself standing right above the stairs.
He bent over and took three long, deep breaths, trying his best to calm his nerves. He looked back up and saw his actions being perfectly mirrored at the other end of the hall.
