Bad Places

by Steven Douglas Brown

  It was 12:46 AM.

  John stepped out of his office and looked out over the busy cubicle area. Workers were standing occasionally, peering over the top of their cubicles to talk to the next person over before dropping back down out of sight. John walked toward the cubicle where he saw the 11/2 typed over and over on the monitor.

  Ziggy Large was sitting with his feet up, wearing a large set of headphones, wireless keyboard on his lap. “Oh, no, you didn’t!” Ziggy tapped the keyboard furiously. John saw that Ziggy was playing a video game, the first person shooter on the large monitor. Sensing someone nearby, Ziggy glanced up and almost fell out of his chair at seeing John. He pulled off the headphones and stood. “Mr. Link!” he said, too loudly. “Hi!”

  “Why are you playing that old-ass game?”

  “What?” Ziggy glanced down at the monitor. “That’s your game, Mr. Link!”

  “You’re Ziggy, aren’t you?”

  Ziggy looked almost astonished that John Link knew who he was, smiling broadly. “Ziggy,” he said quickly. “Ziggy Large. Nice to meet you, Mr. Link!”

  “Just call me John, or Link, because I was never comfortable being called a mister.”

  “Considering you created one of the biggest-selling games in the last decade, you should be used to be called a mister, with a capital M! You deserve it!”

  “I hear good things about you, Ziggy.”

  “Really?”

  “Howard Mason told me I would be wise to ask you to join my team.”

  Ziggy was in slack-jawed awe for a moment. “You’re starting a new title?” he whispered, as if not wanting anyone else to hear.

  “I don’t want to say anything quite yet.”

  “Of course... of course!”

  “I’ll get back to you.”

  Ziggy nodded quickly. “Can I ask you something, Mr. Link?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you leave your own company? I mean, you could have spent the rest of your life making follow-up titles to that one game alone!”

  “It was time for me to move on.” John took a step away and then stopped and looked back at Ziggy. “Have you been having monitor problems lately?”

  “No. Not that I know of.”

  John nodded and walked off.

  Ziggy dropped down and disappeared into his cubicle.

  Back in his office, John was sitting at his desk, working, when he stopped and sat back, staring at the large monitor. He checked the time on the corner of the monitor and then picked up the telephone, punching in a number. “Hi, it’s John Link in 1601. Is there any way I can get a link to the security feed to this floor? No, just something I want to check out. Thanks. I’ll be here.” John hung up the phone and returned to work.

  Thirty minutes later, a tech brought up the newly linked security feed to John’s monitor. “And there you go, Mr. Link.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Any particular reason why you wanted the security feed in here?”

  “I usually work late into the night and would feel more comfortable knowing there isn’t anyone out there before I head for the elevators myself.”

  The tech nodded. “That’s not a bad idea, Mr. Link. Not a bad idea at all.”

  John shook hands with the tech and the tech left the office.

  John watched the security feed, settling in; the feed showed people moving about the cubicle area, some leaving, others arriving. The area quickly emptied as quitting time came and the floor was deserted within minutes. John turned off the security feed and went back to work.

  Well past midnight and John was still working. He sat back in his chair, stretched, and turned off the monitor, standing up. He did not pay attention to the time as he left his office. It was 12:46 AM.

  John walked toward the elevator banks, passing Ziggy’s workstation, not seeing the monitor turn on. Waiting for the elevator, John stifled a yawn. When the elevator doors opened, John stepped into the elevator car, turned, and pushed the lobby button. As the doors closed, John saw the glow from Ziggy’s monitor. John stuck his arm out and the doors automatically re-opened. John walked up to the cubicle and looked at the monitor. Two words were written on the monitor, over and over: WATCH HIM. Then the monitor went dark. More than a little alarmed, John backed away from the cubicle, returning to the elevator. He pressed the call button quickly and several times, almost leaping into the elevators when the doors opened, peering out at the office as the doors closed.

  The neighborhood was silent, not even the sound of car traffic was heard as John walked up the street toward his house. He stopped abruptly. All the lights in his house were turned on, his house almost like a beacon in the otherwise dark neighborhood.

  Inside, John moved through the house, brandishing a frying pan as a weapon as he checked for possible burglars. Satisfied that the house was secure, John turned off the downstairs lights and moved up the steps to the second floor, entering his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Quickly changing into sweat pants, John crawled into bed and listened for any sound, and then rolled over onto his side and went to sleep. At dawn, John opened his eyes and got out of bed, walking into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Standing at the bathroom mirror, while steam from the shower filled the small room, John started putting on shaving cream. “What him. Watch who? Ziggy? Maybe it wasn’t even for me. Maybe Ziggy is supposed to be watching him. Whoever him is.” John shook his head and walked to the shower, stripping off his shorts and stepping into the shower, not seeing that the steam had revealed the words: WATCH HIM written on the bathroom mirror.

  On a commuter train, John was staring out at the passing scenery as the train sped toward the big city, leaving the suburbs behind. John was alone in the train car. John’s phone rings and he pulled it out of a pocket, answering. “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” It was Jason.

  “On my way to work.”

  “On a Saturday?”

  “Yes, on a Saturday.”

  “Damn, and I was going to let you take me to lunch.”

  “I’m only going to be there for a couple of hours. Come on over and we’ll go out from there.”

  “Are you driving the Lamborghini?”

  “No, I’m taking the train.”

  “I’m starting to think you don’t even have a Lamborghini.”

  “I’ll remember that when it’s delivered.”

  “Grow a sense of humor! Jeez!”

  “See you around noon.” John turned off the phone and returned it to his pocket, turning to stare out the window again.

  John walked toward his office, surprised to see more than a few people working. He stopped at Ziggy’s cubicle and peered in at Ziggy at his desk, Ziggy pounding on his keyboard. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here on a Saturday.”

  “Mr. Mason wants us to lock down the project before the end of the day.”

  “Is he here?”

  “Yes. He’s in his office.”

  John took a step and then stopped, looking back at Ziggy. “Are you having problems with anyone, Ziggy?”

  “Me? No.”

  “Oh.” John nodded and continued walking toward his office, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

  Ziggy watched John’s closed office door and then got up and stepped out of his cubicle, leaning over and peering into the cubicle next to him. Chris Evergreen was looking bored as he typed in code. Chris was younger than Ziggy, barely twenty-one years old, but looked even younger. “I think he knows something, Chris.”

  Chris looked up with a sudden nervous look that bordered on fright. “How?”

  “I don’t know. But a friend told me he had a feed from the security cameras redirected into his office.”

  “Oh, man...”

  “Just calm down.”

  “I can’t lose this job, man! My mom would kill me!”

  “Just let me handle it.” Ziggy returned to his cubicle and stared at his monitor for a moment before picking up his telephone and punching
in an inter-office number. “We have to talk-”

  John was writing something in a notebook when there was a knock at the door and Howard Mason entered. Howard Mason was in his Forties and could be thought of as handsome, if his face ever sported anything other than the perpetual frown he wore without effort. “I heard you were in today.”

  John quickly turned over the notebook and smiled at Howard. “I see you brought in the troops today, Howard.”

  “Yes. We hit a bit of a slowdown recently and I need them to finish today if we’re going to make the current release date.”

  “It happens.”

  “Ever happen to you?”

  “No.”

  Howard looked at John’s notebook and then put on a smile that seemed almost a painful thing to do for the older gentleman. “You talk to Ziggy Large yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I can’t really tell yet.”

  Howard nodded and then turned around and walked out of the office without another word.

  John looked almost confused by this action and then shook his head and turned over the notebook, starting to write again, the soft sound of pen over paper the only thing heard in the otherwise silent office.

  Jason stepped out of the elevator and was surprised by the activity, walking slowly toward John’s office. Heads appeared over cubicle tops to look at him and then disappeared, like alligators in a swamp. Jason knocked on the office door and entered. “What’s up?” Jason asked, sitting down in the chair in front of John’s desk. “I thought it was Saturday.”

  “Making games isn’t all fun and games, buddy. They’re working against the clock out there.”

  “Are we outta here?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m not on any clock.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re the big gun, huh?”

  John put the notebook in his desk and locked the drawer, standing up. “I’ll have more than a few days like that coming up, I’m sure.”

  “But not today, so let’s get out of here.” Jason stood. “The sight of this kind of hard work on a Saturday makes me twitchy.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Hello!” Jason rolled his eyes. “College football? Your alma mater?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “That place across the street looked like they’d be showing the game. Let’s go.”

  Jason and John were sitting at the bar, the college football fame on the TV behind the bar. The only other person in the dark room was a bored-looking bartender, who was leaning against a small sink, staring at the football game with little interest. While Jason was watching the game, John appeared lost in thought, staring down at his hands, until Jason let out a loud cheer and raised a hand up high. John stared at the hand.

  “Hey, don’t leave me hanging!” John sighed and slapped Jason’s palm with little enthusiasm. Jason took a sip from his drink and then glanced at John. “What’s up? You’ve looked like someone pissed in your punch ever since we got here.”

  “I don’t know. There’s been this weird vibe ever since I got into town.”

  “Like what?”

  “Just strange things happening here and there.”

  Jason looked surprisingly intrigued. “Details?”

  John shook his head and picked up his drink. “Let’s just watch the game.”

  “I’ve been doing that from the beginning. Then you bring up that weird things are happening and won’t tell what the weird things are!”

  “It’s probably just all the Halloween stuff around, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”

  Jason lifted an eyebrow at John and then slowly turned back to the television.

  After the game ended, Jason and John moved to a booth against a far wall, watching as other customers began arriving.

  “That game could’ve ended better,” Jason said glumly.

  “What time is it?”

  “Who cares? It’s Saturday!”

  “You’re right. When does the music start?”

  Jason looked around. “I’ll go find out.” Jason got up out of the booth and walked toward the bar.

  John slumped down in the booth and watched Jason, and then glanced around, spotting a woman staring directly at him. She was in her Thirties and was dressed in a long, deep-red dress, her hair stacked on her head in massive curls. John quickly became unnerved at the way she was staring at him and turned away. When Jason slid back into the booth, John was almost turned all the way around, facing the wall.

  “The guy said the music should be starting pretty soon.” Jason then frowned at John. “What’s up?”

  “That woman is staring at me.”

  “Which one?” Jason quickly scanned the room, as John tilted his head toward the woman, who was still staring at John. “Usually, I’m all for a woman staring, but that chick gives me the heebie-jeebies, dude!”

  “Tell me about it!”

  “Want me to go ask her what’s up?”

  “Are you serious?”

  Jason slid out of the booth and stood. “She might be weird, but she’s still hot looking!” Jason walked toward the woman, stood in front of the table where she was sitting, and stood, head cocked and arms akimbo, before returning to the booth and sliding in opposite John.

  “Well?”

  “Her name is Cassandra Miller and she is totally insane!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She told me that you are being haunted.”

  John blinked in surprise. “What?”

  “She said that she can sense a presence near you and it isn’t of this world.” Jason chuckled. “Whacko!”

  John looked toward Cassandra and saw that she was still staring at him with an intensity that was frightening. “Why is she staring at me like that?”

  “She said she’s keeping an eye on you, which would be pretty cool if she wasn’t insane.”

  “Think I should go talk to her?”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you want to encourage that sort of insanity?”

  “What if she’s right?”

  “Dude, don’t go making one-plus-one-equals-three on me!”

  “Weird things haven been happening around me.”

  “Coincidences. You’ve just moved into a new place, so things are going to feel a little weird for a while.” Jason dismissed it all with a wave of a hand. “Don’t go down the ghost path until you want to have people talk about you behind your back.”

  “You’re probably right.” John glanced at Cassandra. “That staring just freaks me out, though.”

  “Ignore it. Have another drink, enjoy the jazz, and you’ll forget all about her by tomorrow.”

  John nodded. “Right.”

  “By the way, the next round is on you.”

  John watched Jason drain his drink and nodded, sliding out of the booth and walking toward the bar. While waiting for the drinks, John leaned against the end of the bar and took out his phone, checking if he had any texts. John frowned at the single text he had on the small screen, consisting of three letters: HIM. “What the hell?” John murmured.

  “The closer you get, the stronger it becomes.”

  John was startled when Cassandra appeared beside him. “You scared me!”

  “Prepare yourself.”

  “For what?”

  The bartender placed the two drinks on the bar in front of John. “Here you go, John.”

  John handed the bartender folded cash. “Keep the rest, Tim.”

  “Thanks, John!”

  After John picked up the drinks, he turned and saw that Cassandra was no longer standing beside him. John looked around and saw that she was no longer anywhere in the room. John returned to the booth and slid in, handing Jason one of the glasses of alcohol. “Where did she go?”

  “Who?”

  “Cassandra.”

  Jason shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  John gulped his drink quickly and Jaso
n raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  Jason parked the car in front of John’s house.

  John got out of the car and stared at the dark house for a moment; Jason stepped out of the car and looked over the roof at John. “Freaked?”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “I don’t think Cassandra is a stalker, John.”

  “That isn’t what I’m talking about.”

  “You’re going down the ghost path, aren’t you?” Jason sounded disappointed.

  “Sometimes you have to go down the only way available to get to the other side.”

  “Tomorrow is Halloween, dude. Why don’t you leave the spooky stuff for then?”

  “What time are you going trick or treating?” John asked with a smirk.

  “Give me a break. I haven’t gone trick or treating since I was twenty-four!”

  Jason and John exchanged grins.

  “You coming over?” John asked.

  “Sadly, I have nothing better to do.”

  “When?”

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Right.”

  John and Jason waved to each other and Jason drove off, leaving John still standing on the sidewalk in front of his house. Slowly, John walked up to the front door.

  Inside, John reached out and turned on the lights, quickly shutting the door behind him. He stood near the door, listening, but heard nothing and let out a deep breath, as if he had been holding it for a long time. Room by room, the light were turned on, until essentially the entire house was illuminated. In his bedroom, John turned on the television and walked into the bathroom, stripping off clothes and tossed them into a hamper. After pulling on a pair of sweat pants, John stretched out on the bed, remote control in hand, and started going through the channels, unaware that, room by room, the lights were being turned off. John was nearly asleep, his eyes starting to close, when the telephone rang, startling him. He reached for the phone on its cradle next to the bed and glanced at the caller ID. UNKNOWN. John hesitated and then answered. “Hello?”