Bad Places

by Steven Douglas Brown

  The kid watched Jason, smiling, and lifted the toy eye patch to see better. “Cool!”

  Jason unlocked the door and enter his small apartment, quickly shutting the door behind him and locking it. He looked around and then grabbed a cheap plastic chair and wedged it under the door knob, nodding to himself, walking off, into the kitchenette, where he opened the refrigerator and took out a can of beer. He sat down on the couch, a garage sale special that had seen better days, the left side missing one of its feet and the right cushion sporting a suspicious stain that Jason ignored. He picked up a remote control and turned on a large flat-screen television. 4K. The best of the best. Jason settled on a sports channel and sipped at the can of beer. After a few minutes, Jason’s eyelids began to flutter as he tried to stay awake, but finally gave up and turned off the TV. Reflected in the TV screen was a figure standing directly behind Jason. Jason shouted in frightened surprise and twisted around. No one was there. He looked back at the television and the figure reflection was no longer seen. Jason let out his breath in a long exhalation, standing and turning toward the bedroom door. He glanced back at the television one more time before turning out the light. Then, in the dark, a voice was heard.

  “Jason... help.”

  Jason responded, sounding more puzzled than frightened. “John?”

  John was asleep, his head resting on Cassandra’s lap, who was staring straight ahead. There was a sudden, heavy pounding at the door. John jumped up, momentarily confused where he was, and then got up and answered the door. Jason entered the house, moving past John and sat down beside Cassandra. He looked directly at her. “Cassandra, what is going on?”

  John walked over and stood in front of the sofa, looking at Jason and Cassandra. “What’s going on with you, Jason?”

  “Your ghost came to visit me tonight.”

  “Why do you keep saying it’s my ghost? It’s not like I own it, or anything!”

  Cassandra nodded at Jason. “You know now.”

  Jason nodded back.

  “I don’t know!” John said, throwing up his arms in frustration. “Someone care to tell me?”

  Cassandra looked up at John. “The ghost is you, John. It literally is your ghost.”

  The information apparently did not sink in and John looked oblivious to the heft of the statement for a moment, and then he slowly frowned as the began to put the pieces together. He sat down between Jason and Cassandra. “November second. Watch him.”

  “It’s trying to warn you, John.”

  “About what?”

  “What do you think, dude? About turning into a ghost!”

  John shook his head and rubbed his eyes with both hands. “Hold on. You’re saying I’m going to die in two days?”

  “Not if we heed the warning.”

  “Watch him. Watch who, John? See? It’s trying to give you clues!” Jason nodded. “I mean, you’re trying to give you clues...” Jason looked momentarily confused by his own statement. “Whatever!”

  Cassandra placed a hand lightly on John’s hand, speaking softly and even-toned. “Think, John. The clues are there. All you have to do is figure it out.”

  “Ziggy’s computer. It kept appearing on Ziggy’s computer.”

  “That computer nerd at work? We can take him out easily!” Jason smacked a fist into an open palm.

  “Jason, we can’t just go around attacking people and blaming it on the ghost of someone who isn’t even dead yet! They would toss us into Thunder Ridge, for God’s sake!”

  “Hey, I’m about ready for a weekend trip to Thunder Ridge myself, the way this is bending my mind!”

  “You have one full day to figure it out tomorrow, John.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “I’ll have your back all day November Second, buddy!”

  “Thanks, Jason.”

  “First of all, you need sleep. You can’t afford to be tired the next couple of days.”

  “I don’t know if I can sleep.”

  “Try.”

  “I’ll stay here and crash right here on the sofa. Don’t worry.”

  “I’ll stay, too,” Cassandra said.

  John nodded.

  In his bedroom, John stretched out on the bed, on top of the covers, not bothering to undress. He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

  In the living room, Jason was snoring loudly, asleep in the easy chair. Cassandra was sitting on the sofa, with her legs tucked up; she turned her head and saw the ghost moving from the basement, up the stairs, to the second floor. Cassandra did not say anything.

  12:46 AM.

  John was sleeping.

  He then sat straight up, looked around, and wiped cold sweat from his forehead, glancing at the clock. “It’s going to happen tomorrow night at 12:46,” he murmured.

  “Yes.”

  The ghost appeared at the foot of the bed, a shadowy figure.

  John stared at the ghost. “Who wants to kill... us?”

  There was no response.

  “I need to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

  “Yes.”

  John nodded and turned over onto his side, closing his eyes.

  The ghost continued to stand at the foot of the bed.

  Silent.

  Watching.

  The next morning, John walked into the living room, fully dressed, and moved into the kitchen to prepare morning coffee. Cassandra and Jason were asleep. When John returned to the living room, he was carrying three cups of coffee. He placed two of the cups on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

  Cassandra opened her eyes. “Good morning, John.”

  “It’s going to happen tonight, just before one o’clock.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “No.”

  “I think I know.”

  “Where?”

  “The basement.”

  John nodded.

  Jason opened one eye. “I smell coffee.”

  “Right here, buddy.”

  Jason stretched and then stood, stepping over and picking up the coffee cup. “What’s the battle plan?”

  “We have about nineteen hours to figure out what’s going to happen before it happens.”

  “Nineteen hours? I thought it was going to happen on November Second!”

  “12:46 AM is November Second.”

  “We’ll be ready!”

  “What are you going to do, John?” Cassandra asked.

  “Go to work.”

  “Are you kidding?” Jason nearly spit out his coffee. “Call in sick!”

  “No. I need to find out who before the what happens and that isn’t going to happen hiding at home.”

  “I don’t think it’s take-a-buddy-to-work day, Jason.”

  “Flex your muscles! You’re the big man there!”

  “Why don’t you just hang out at the club across the street? Just don’t be getting too drunk or you’ll be worthless to me later.”

  “I’ll go with him,” Cassandra said.

  “We’ll take off after we finish our coffee.”

  “You seem awfully eager to get started with this,” Jason said.

  “More like eager to get it over with.”

  John, Jason, and Cassandra walked away from the house toward Jason’s car. Seeing Jason’s car, Cassandra stopped and had an astonished expression on her face. “Seriously?”

  “It will get us where we want to go, Cassandra.”

  “Look at it this way,” John said. “If we survive going down the freeway in this thing, we’re already ahead of the game!”

  “I just don’t understand why people keep putting down my ride.”

  “I thought the government bought all of these things and dumped them in the ocean!”

  The trio climbed into the car, Cassandra forced to sit on John’s lap.

  In the parking garage of John’s building, John climbed out of the car and Cassandra climbed back in.

  “I’ll meet you two at the club
at five o’clock.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?” Jason asked.

  “I really doubt anything would happen in a filled office. I’ll cut out before the place is half-empty.”

  “The easiest way to avoid what could happen at 12:46 is to stay away from your house until tomorrow morning,” Cassandra said.

  John nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “We’ll sit in one of the far booths, out of the way. All right?”

  John nodded. “All right.”

  “Be careful, buddy. We’ll see you at five.”

  John walked toward the elevator. After pressing the button, he turned and waved at Jason and Cassandra, and then entered the elevator when it arrived.

  “Our first date, Jason,” Cassandra said, after the pair watched the elevator doors close.

  “Which is weird, since we already spent the night together.”

  Jason drove the car out of the parking garage.

  John walked slowly past several cubicles, trying to maintain a facade of cheerfulness.

  Ziggy stood when John passed. “Mr. Link?”

  “How you doing, Ziggy?”

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Not here. Can I meet you in the coffee room?”

  John looked momentarily wary and then smiled and nodded. “Ten minutes?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Link! I’ll be there.” Ziggy dropped back down into his cubicle and John continued on toward his office, opening the door and entering. He sat down at his desk and turned on his computer monitor. He started tapping at the keyboard, his fingers dancing quickly over the keys as he brought up the security camera feed. John sat back and started watching Ziggy’s cubicle. Ziggy was on the telephone. Ziggy then hung up the telephone and got up, moving out of his cubicle and out of sight of the security feed. The monitor suddenly went blank. John frowned and tapped the keyboard again, but the screen remained blank. A white screen appeared. WATCH HIM appeared, over and over, quickly filling the screen.

  “I’m trying,” John said softly.

  In the coffee room, Ziggy was sitting at one of the three small tables. He looked nervous, fingers drumming on the table. Ziggy looked up when John entered the room.

  “What did you want?” John asked, remaining by the door.

  Ziggy looked around, as if expecting someone to enter the small room at any moment, and then leaned forward across the small table, keeping his voice low. “Mr. Link, someone is after you!”

  John tried to maintain his faux-ignorant expression as he moved to the table and sat down across from Ziggy. “What do you mean?”

  “When you arrived, certain people feel you were given too much free reign, compared to what we usually get around here, and these certain people are not happy whatsoever.”

  “Who are these certain people, Ziggy?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “I understand. Thank for warning me, Ziggy.”

  “I can tell you this much, Mr. Link-”

  The door to the coffee room opened and Howard Mason entered, walking to the coffee maker and pouring himself a cup of coffee, his back to John and Ziggy. Ziggy’s eyes opened wide, suddenly very nervous looking, and John motioned for him to leave the room. Ziggy got up and walked to the door.

  “The coffee is terrible today!” Howard said. He walked to the door, moved past Ziggy, and walked out of the room.

  Ziggy exhaled loudly and followed, leaving John alone in the room.

  Back in the his office, John sat down and turned on the computer monitor, typing, bringing up Howard Mason’s company records, using his position in the company to supersede the low level security in place. John read the information, shaking his head, not finding anything interesting. “Howard is even more boring in his file than in real life!”

  At first.

  John frowned when he looked at Howard’s full name. “Howard Ian Mason.” John blinked at the information. “H.I.M. Watch him!” John sat back in his chair. “No. It can’t be that easy!” John printed out the information.

  Jason and Cassandra were sitting in a booth when Jason’s phone buzzed. “It’s John,” Jason said after looking at the screen. “He sent me a text.”

  “What’s the text?”

  Jason made a sound deep in his throat at reading the message. “He thinks he’s figured out who is trying to kill him!”

  “Who?”

  “That’s all he texted. No name.”

  “I hope he has his office door locked.”

  The office door opened and Howard Mason entered, closing the door behind him. “Do you have a moment, John?”

  John quickly clicked out of the company records and slipped the printout into a desk drawer. “Of course.”

  “The big man in Tokyo wants a detailed report on what you have cooking.”

  “I can whip up a report today, no problem. I’ve been writing notes all week.”

  “Good. How about I come over to your place tonight and we can go over it a bit before submitting it to him?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  Howard noticed the look on John’s face. “Is there a problem?”

  “Just might have a woman over for dinner tonight, and-”

  “We can make it late, unless...” Howard grinned.

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’ll call first, before coming over. How’s that?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Howard opened the door and left the office.

  John grabbed his phone.

  Jason answered his phone. “It’s your boss? Are you sure?”

  “His initials are H.I.M. and that’s the message I’ve been getting for days now! It wasn’t watch him, it was watch H.I.M.!”

  “What are you going to do? Call the police?”

  “And tell them my own ghost told me that my boss is going to kill me tonight? That would solve things, because I’d be locked up in Thunder Ridge before dark!”

  “Better than being dead.”

  “The thing is that Howard Mason doesn’t look like he could kill time, let alone someone almost half his age. It just doesn’t make sense to me, Jason.”

  “It’s the ones you don’t expect that are the most dangerous, John.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “When are you coming over?”

  “I’m going to finish out the day here and keep my eye on Howard.”

  “Keep your distance, too.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that twice.”

  “Good.”

  “See you in a few hours.” Jason set his phone down on the table.

  “What did he say?” Cassandra asked.

  “John named his killer.”

  Cassandra looked startled. “Really?”

  “You seem awfully surprised.” Jason tilted his head slightly.

  “What? No. I’m just glad he figured it out before it got too late.”

  Jason sat back and shook his head. “I’m still not sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “If it was his boss, why didn’t the ghost say boss instead of HIM?”

  “His boss?”

  Jason tilted his head again at Cassandra’s tone.

  “I have to use the rest room,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure...”

  “Cassandra slid out of the booth and walked off.

  Jason watched her with a suspicious look on his face.

  Cassandra moved into a bathroom stall and sat down, staring at the closed door in front of her. She rubbed her forehead with both hands and then froze. “Are you there?”

  Cassandra returned to the booth and slid in across from Jason.

  “You were gone for quite a while.”

  “The stress. I think it’s given me a bad stomach.”

  Jason nodded. “I hear you. My gut has been tied in knots all afternoon!”

  “Anything else from John?”

  “N
o.”

  Cassandra and Jason fell silent.

  “You’re early,” Jason said when John arrived.

  “People started clearing out early, since they finished the project, and I didn’t want to be caught there by myself, so I clocked out early, too.”

  “What’s the plan now? Kick Howard’s ass?”

  “This place stays open until two in the morning. Let’s just stay here until closing time. That should change things up enough. Right, Cassandra?”

  “I really don’t know, John.”

  “Can I start drinking now?” Jason asked. “It’s been killing me, sitting here without even a beer!”

  “I’ll buy the first round,” John said, and walked to the bar.

  Jason caught Cassandra checking her watch. “You’ve been looking at the time every five minutes for the last hour.”

  “Just keeping track. Not to be humorous, but John is approaching an important deadline.”

  Jason made sure John was at the bar before speaking again. “Cassandra, who are you married to?”

  Cassandra did not answer immediately. She looked down at her left hand for a moment and then looked up at Jason. “He died three months ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “I think you knew him.”

  “I did?”

  “His name was Henry Monroe.”

  Jason looked stunned. “Hank Monroe? He’s dead? I didn’t hear anything about that!”

  “It happened right after he got out of prison.”

  “How did he die?”

  “He tried to rob a convenience store and was shot by an off-duty police officer.”

  Oh.”

  “We were married after he got out of prison.”

  “I didn’t like Hank.”

  “Not many did.”

  “Why did you marry him?”

  “That’s hard to explain, Jason.”

  “Here comes John. Let’s not talk about this with him.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think he has enough on his mind.”

  John slid into the booth and handed over two glasses to Jason and Cassandra. “What have you two been talking about?”

  “Why?” Jason sounded suddenly nervous, as if he had been caught doing something exceptionally bad.

  “Because you look guilty about something.”

  “I asked Cassandra not to tell you that I had a drink earlier,” Jason lied. “Sorry.”