by Bialois, CP
Through their improved communication and understanding, there was one thing Tanok managed to keep hidden from Franklin’s growing abilities—his own impending doom. He couldn’t allow another human to hold such power over him. If Franklin knew Tanok would only be able to maintain his consciousness for a few hours more he wouldn’t be so willing to help. After everything he put the young man through, he felt it was in the young man’s heart to retaliate should he learn of Tanok’s weakness. Tanok found himself amazed at the line of thinking he’d begun. It wasn’t like him, the old him, but things change. In the end, he would do anything to preserve humanity.
*****
Steve made his way back into the house, unsure of what happened to Zach. While it‘d only been a couple of days since they met, he felt the pair had something in common. A bond of sorts that he hadn’t experienced before. Of course, all of that could just as easily have been wishful thinking, but Steve was stubborn and held onto what he wanted to believe.
It was then he noticed he hadn’t seen or heard either of his parents when he was leaving. Even though he purposely ignored them, there should’ve been some sound. Anything. The idea struck him to check out of the study’s window as it had a perfect view of the driveway. Stepping foot within the confines of Fulton Drake’s study usually filled him with dread but instead, he felt another kind of fear beginning to grow. What if something happened? He shook his head. Don’t be stupid. They had to go somewhere, that’s all. He rounded the corner of his father’s desk and pushed the dark blue curtain aside with his right hand. Outside was his father’s car, but his mom’s was gone. They parked side-by-side so that at no time was Fulton blocked in by his wife. Seeing the empty space, Steve fought against a cold shiver forcing its way down his back. She never left the house before ten unless…Unless something happened.
Feeling his panic trying to break free from his body, Steve turned and reached for the phone on the desk. It was an older rotary style only found at antique shops anymore, but it’d always been his father’s favorite. As he wrapped his large hand around the neck of the receiver, his cell phone began ringing. The sudden sound of hip hop music coming from his pocket caused him to jump, but he managed to regain enough composure to reach into his pocket and open the flip top.
Not recognizing the number, he lifted it to his ear and spoke in a low, weak sounding voice. “Hello?”
“Stephen Drake?” The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Steve waited for a second before he answered. “Yeah.” His mind went blank anytime he tried to think of something to say on the spur of the moment.
“Mr. Drake, this is Doctor Emerson Forbes.” Where had he heard that name before? Steve knew the answer, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“What happened?” He didn’t give the doctor the chance to speak and he could hear the man clear his throat on the other end.
“Your father’s had a heart attack. His implant malfunctioned somehow, but he’s alright. We have him stabilized for the time being and are prepping him for surgery.” Emerson went silent to allow his words to fully sink in before continuing. “You’d better come down here.”
More times than he could count, Steve dreamed of having his father out of his life in one way or another, but he never wanted him dead despite all of the bullshit Fulton put him through. In the end, all he could say was, “I don’t have a car.”
After a brief pause, Emerson continued, “You have a phone, so why not call one of your friends?”
Steve didn’t like the doctor’s manners — in fact, he hated them — but all he could say was “Yeah.” There was a faint goodbye on the other end, and then the line went dead. Weird, he thought, they’d give him my number instead of the home number. Shaking his head, Steve forced himself to concentrate on what he needed to do then re-opened his phone to dial Horace’s number.
Horace picked up on the second ring and within minutes he was fully awake. Steve didn’t really hear what Horace was saying, but he nodded and thanked him anyway before he closed his phone.
Steve was numb, he wasn’t thinking or reacting to anything he was told. Still, he had enough of a grip to walk out of the front door to wait for his friend. The lone thought going through his mind was why didn’t his mom let him know? While he and his parents had grown apart over the years, Steve never thought they’d grow so far that she wouldn’t call him when an emergency happened. By the time Horace arrived in his Pinto, Steve was crying.
Horace did what he could to comfort his friend, even sitting with him on the curb for several minutes. He couldn’t imagine what Steve was going through. All of his life, his parents had been there to support him in his endeavors. Not once did they ever neglect him, whether they had a fight or not. It was unchartered territory for him as he tried to help his friend. What could he say? “I know how you feel?” No, he didn’t. “I’m sorry for your loss?” He didn’t lose anyone, at least not that morning. In the end, Horace did what he did best. He let Steve work through most of it himself while offering his shoulder and strength.
After twenty minutes, Steve regained enough of himself that he nodded toward his house. “It was never really home.”
Horace watched him for several seconds, unsure of what to say. “What do you mean?” Shit, if that‘s the best I can do, he may as well slit his wrists here and now.
Steve acted as though he hadn’t heard him. “For as long as I can remember, I was always treated like an outsider, like I didn’t belong.”
Realization flashed through Horace’s mind but he kept silent and waited as his friend continued.
“It never occurred to me. Not until this morning, I mean, that I was as good as dead to them. Why? What’d I ever do?”
Horace nodded. Steve wasn‘t grieving for his father, he was grieving for himself. He placed an arm across the larger man’s shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze. “You became something they couldn’t understand. You’re a good man with a good heart. Blood flows through your veins, not ice.” It was corny and reminded him of something he saw in a movie once. But hell, if it worked why not use it? The whole world was a cliché, after all.
Horace’s words must’ve made sense, because Steve looked at him and burst into laughter. His tears kept flowing, but the worst was behind him. “Does this mean you’re finally my nigga?”
Horace couldn’t help laughing and shook his head. “Yes I am, this one time. If you ever call me that again, so help me…” His voice trailed off in what was a mock threat. He knew Steve would drive him crazy at some point in their lives, he just hoped it wasn’t over something petty like a name.
Seeing another laugh come from Steve warmed Horace’s heart and he patted his friend on the back. “Want me to take you to the hospital?”
Steve went silent in thought for a moment then shook his head. “No, I need to get to work. I’m going to get a place of my own.” If I’m dead to them, then they’re dead to me. He didn’t say that out loud, but the intent was there, causing Horace to nod.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift. Maybe I can talk my folks into renting that back room to you.” Steve’s face brightened, but Horace shook his head. “We don’t want to hear that damn music of yours throughout the house. You’re getting headphones. Use them.” It was only a matter of time before he asked the next question. “Where’s your buddy?”
Steve shrugged. His worry for his friend was displaced by what he learned a few minutes before. “Beats me. Guess something happened to him.”
Horace nodded, that seemed to be the theme that morning. While Horace considered himself a good friend and would always be willing to help, he couldn’t help but envy the fact that Janice was probably only now waking. He’d stop by her place after dropping Steve off and grab breakfast. Not one to be superstitious, he noticed the day felt wrong somehow. Since he couldn’t put his finger on why, he remained silent while keeping alert for anything out of the ordinary.
Chapter 27
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��You never did answer why you wanted to see the National Guard base. Are you thinking of enlisting?” If his son answered yes, Winfield would have yet another surprise in a long list of them. He glanced over at Franklin when they came to a stop sign within spitting distance of the headquarters.
Franklin shook his head, how could he explain it to his father without hurting him? “I’m not the enlistment type.” He smiled at his own response. If his father only knew.
Winfield returned the smile, not knowing what it meant. It was good that his son wanted to get out and see something besides the inside walls, but he didn’t understand his wanting to accompany him. He shook his head, some things weren’t meant to be understood. As things stood, he wasn’t going to complain no matter what Franklin’s ulterior motives were.
For the first time in days, Winfield had slept without a care in the world. After calling Nancy again, the pair set off to see the National Guard Headquarters at Franklin’s urging. He couldn’t remember the last time his son had shown initiative or, better phrased, interest in anything to do with the military. During the drive, Winfield’s mind often went to those memories when Franklin was young enough to still be a daddy’s boy, when his son emulated everything he did without fail. Times like those are short enough when they’re happening, but even shorter once they were passed and no longer within reach. Following a tight turn into the parking lot, Winfield pulled into a space reserved for VIPs.
Franklin looked from the sign to his dad. The extra attention wasn’t something he wanted. “VIP? Us?”
Winfield smiled at him. “Franklin, I‘ve made many mistakes in my life, and one of them was not spending more time with you. I’m going to rectify that starting immediately.” Franklin nodded. They had this same conversation the night before, and the honesty of it really struck him in the heart. He never once heard or saw anything resembling his father’s heartfelt apology and promise to him after he arrived at the hotel. Those memories were making things difficult on the young man; he didn’t want to betray that trust, but what else could he do? If Franklin didn’t, the human race would die like those in the visions Tanok shared with him. After everything, he knew they were real and the threat was as great as he’d been told. He couldn’t falter now; the people of Earth depended on his actions.
Secure in what he was about to do, Franklin smiled at his father and climbed out from the car. His eyes settled on the plain red brick building with the white trim around the door and the model of a cannon off to the side. Somewhere in there was the future, and the hope of humanity waiting for him to utilize it.
“Not very impressive, but not bad either.” Winfield stood for a moment and looked around them before walking toward the door.
Franklin nodded. It wasn’t impressive in the slightest and that was the reason for Tanok choosing this as the site to complete their mission. Following his father’s lead, Franklin stepped through the door and into the future of the human race.
*****
Horace pulled up in time for them to see Franklin and the other man enter the building. “I wonder what they’re doing here?”
Steve shrugged. “Maybe looking for a job?” A sudden panic caused his heart to begin racing. “I better get in there. I’m only ten minutes late.”
Horace nodded. “Take it easy, everything will be alright.”
Steve paused and looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Thanks, Horace. For everything.”
Horace smiled and clapped Steve on the shoulder. “No problem, buddy. It’s what I‘m here for.” Steve returned the smile and rose from the car. Once the door was closed, Horace watched him until Steve stepped through the double doors, wondering if he was doing the right thing. With a shake of his head, Horace backed out of the space he’d chosen and headed back the way they’d come.
His mind reworked the conversation the two had shared after he picked Steve up at his house earlier. Horace had tried several times to talk Steve into going to the hospital to see his dad, but each time his friend only shook his head. Horace felt bad for how Steve had been treated throughout his life, but you only get one set of parents in your lifetime and you couldn’t run away from them. In the end, he did what Steve asked of him even though he knew it was a mistake. What else could he have done?
Steve entered the building and found Zach working in the cafeteria, sweeping the floor. When he approached, Zach acted as though he didn’t see him. Curious and concerned, Steve reached out and touched Zach‘s shoulder. The contact caused the man to leap into the air and grab his chest.
“Jesus Fucking Christ! Don’t ever sneak up on me like that again!” After taking a handful of deep breaths, Zack looked at him out of curiosity. “How’d you get here? You weren’t by your house when I was there.”
Steve watched him for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. After a brief hesitation, Steve blurted it out. “I went outside but you weren’t there so I went back into the house.” Steve let his bulk drop onto one of the benches by the table. “My dad had a heart attack and my mom didn’t bother telling me.”
Steve’s words buzzed around in Zach’s head. He didn’t see Steve. That’s because you caused his dad’s heart attack. No he didn’t. Zach then shook his head. Did he? After a pause, Zach set the broom aside and reached over, setting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I… I thought I was there, but maybe it was a dream or something.” He fought to clear his mind. “Is he okay? You wanna take the rest of the day off and go see him?”
Steve shook his head. “No. I wasn’t important enough for them to tell, so why should I go and see him?” Steve’s thinking seemed logical to him. After all, if it hadn’t, Horace would’ve pointed it out.
“Steve,” Zach lowered himself to sit across from his friend. “How did you learn about your dad’s heart attack?”
“The doctor called me.” Realization dawned in the young man’s eyes. “Oh Christ.” His voice broke into a low-pitched whine or sob.
Zach sighed and reached into his pocket for his keys. Brushing aside the metal rod, again wondering why he brought it with him, he handed his car keys to Steve. “Here, go see your old man. I expect to get my baby back in one piece. No racing or other stupid shit.”
Steve’s eyes gleamed from his tears as he jumped to his feet, grabbed the keys, and hugged Zach. “Thank you, thank you. I don’t know what to say. I… I’ll bring it right back.”
Zach nodded, smiling. “I know you will. Get going before I change my mind.” Watching the young man run back toward the hall to the double doors, Zach couldn’t help but smile again. That was his good deed for the month, now he was free and clear to be his usual obstinate, cantankerous self without any fears of reprisals. Within seconds, he was back to work sweeping the cafeteria floor.
“So what do you think so far?” Winfield smiled while gesturing for his son to enter the cafeteria.
Franklin shrugged. “It’s not quite what I imagined.” He wasn‘t lying. After his initial interest in the military, something all young boys share, Franklin never once understood the fascination with people wanting to spend years in a place like this. He supposed those feelings were also a large part of the reason for him regularly changing jobs. Staying in one place longer than was necessary was well… unnecessary. Stupid, is what it was, but he didn’t want to tell his father that. He couldn’t, not after all they’d been through the past couple of days.
Winfield nodded his understanding. “It’s not much compared to other bases, but they do have their own flavor.” He waved at the vending machines. “Since you’ve been living off that hospital crap for the last few days, I’ll buy you your first meal.” At seeing the slim pickings, Winfield rolled his eyes. They may not be army, but you’d think there’d be something more than cupcakes. “I owe you another one when we leave here.”
Franklin smiled, fighting to hold back his laughter. “No problem, Dad.”
The pair sat at the end of a table near the machines with their packets of cupcakes. W
infield chose vanilla, while his son enjoyed a pack of chocolate cupcakes. Not a bad start to his day, or so Franklin thought as he licked the icing from his fingers
Off to the side, Zach watched the pair from the corner of his eye with little interest until he felt a sensation that could be best described as slender, cold fingers moving up the length of his spine until he felt the grip tighten on his brain. Shaking his head, Zach glanced over at the pair, but neither of them seemed to feel anything. As fast as it happened the feeling was gone, and so was the pen-sized metal stick that had been in his front left pocket. Thinking nothing more of it, Zach continued sweeping the floor until he finished, then walked out and left the men alone.
When they were finished eating, Winfield dropped the plastic and cardboard wrappers into the trash can and stretched his back. Either he was getting old or soft. Winfield preferred the former if he had a choice, but he was also smart enough to know he hadn’t gone soft in the last two days. Well, not entirely at any rate.
Franklin watched his father clean up and flexed the fingers of his left hand. The small metal rod flew from where Zach had left it and into his hand. Once he had it, Franklin deftly slipped it into his pants pocket. In many ways, he pitied those around him. They would never know of or understand the abilities he was now using. The man with the broom never even realized he took the viral key from his pocket and set it on the table.