They were in college together in their mid-twenties and Jamie had just finished finals. She was a year behind him in school. They got confused on where they were supposed to meet after his tests. She ended up at ASU’s library doors drenched from the rain while he was toasty in a local bar having a beer, letting time slip away from him with a couple other students. He’d thought she was late, and she’d thought he ditched her.
About a half hour later, she walked past Jamie’s bar, and glanced in the window to see him drinking and laughing with a bunch of guys. Man, was she mad when she came in the bar, screaming, “Jamie Jenkins, just what the hell are you doing?”
They fought out in the rain on the sidewalk. Even when they figured out that she was the one who had it wrong—“You and your damn perfect memory, you friggin’ idiot!”—she still wouldn’t talk to him for a week.
In his flat in Amsterdam, Jamie smiled at this memory. No turning intestines. No heaving. He got off the floor and went into the kitchen. He had to drink some water, or he’d be dehydrated. Even though it might come right back up, at least it was a little something.
After he drank a full glass of water in small sips, he went back to the living area and sat on the floor. It didn’t make any sense that thinking of her dead image or even having ideas about going to Tempe made him so violently ill. He loved Amanda with everything he had, yeah, but nobody is that heart-broken five years after the death of their spouse, right? He knew that might be a cold way of looking at it, but maybe he was the strong, silent type. He should be able to stomach the memories of her funeral.
There was something to all this, but what could he do? Could he go to the local UNE office and tell them…what, exactly?
He got up and found his jacket on the couch. He got out his wallet and read the instructions Ingrid had given him. The She. What a weird name for a ship. Or a boat. Whatever.
He was really thinking about doing this. If there was even the slightest possibility that he could be with Amanda again, then it was worth it.
He closed his eyes and put his fists on his knees. He now just had to find some way to do it without thinking about it.
Ah, he thought to himself. Thank the art of Zen.
Chapter 7
Jamie walked down the last pier of the docks, west of the city where mostly fishing boats were anchored. He read names of the boats and reached the end of the dock before he saw The She. It had to be twenty years old. One of the fastboats, but an ancient model. It would only hold about five people—uncomfortably. It was red and the name painted in yellow lettering. The captain or some other person had done it by hand.
A man who looked to be in his late forties sat on the deck casting a line into the ocean. He had dark skin and wore a ball cap backward. Jamie could tell he kept his head shaved. Once he got to the edge of the pier The She was tied to, the man noticed him and waved, calling out, “Hi there, nice day for fishing, eh?”
Jamie didn’t know how to approach this, especially because he wasn’t sure if he spoke his destination aloud…would he’d get sick again? He waved back to the man. “Hey. Nice boat.”
“She’s fast, and you better see it to believe it.”
“I’d like to.”
The man reeled in his line, got up, walked to Jamie’s side of the boat and hopped onto the pier. He moved smoothly, like a snake slithering around a jungle tree. “You would?” he said with a British accent. He was a head shorter than Jamie, but made up for it in pure muscle. Did he row this boat everywhere?
“Depends. Are you the captain?”
“I am, I am. You found me out.” He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, gazing out over the ocean, not meeting Jamie’s eyes. “I’m Aaron. Aaron Branden. If your mom told you not to trust a man with two first names, she was right.” He finally met Jamie’s eyes as Jamie held out his hand.
“James. Or Jamie.” They shook hands. Aaron had a sweaty palm and a firm grip.
“Yep, I take The She out all over the globe. She can make it to the States in about four days, from right here on this dock. Japan takes about fourteen. Fastest boat. She looks old, sure, but she’s fitted with all the latest, and some things you just can’t find anywhere…yet. Believe me, she’s worth the ride, even if it’s just a little vacation.”
Jamie wondered if Ingrid tipped Aaron off that he might be coming. The man was too forthcoming. “I could use a vacation, just not sure…”
The man dropped his voice low and said, “I even offer passport-free trips if the price is right, in case you were wondering. Everybody has to make a living somehow.” He kept his eyes on the horizon.
Jamie hated edging around this, and Aaron was making it perfectly easy. “You know Ingrid, I take it.”
“I know no Ingrid. I know Jan. That’s all you need to know.” He glanced up at Jamie as though counting his saved Xchange Credits in his head. “And for that, you get a discount. Twenty thousand XCs.” He licked his lips and tensed his arms, waiting for the bargaining to begin.
“I don’t really get all this, to be honest—”
“Eh!” He held up a hand. “I don’t need specifics. I can take you to Virginia and there’s a lady there who still drives electric buses. She takes trips across the country every week. And I hear you need exactly that. The twenty covers all of it.”
Jamie rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. How had Ingrid known he’d come? He didn’t want to haggle and had plenty of Xchange Credits to spare, so he simply said, “Deal. Round-trip, right?”
He squinted his brown eyes at Jamie. “If you say so, but it doesn’t usually go down that way.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Most people in your position don’t ever come back.”
“My position? What do you mean?”
He pumped his palms through the air in a downward motion. “Lower the volume, please.”
“Sorry,” Jamie said, his voice barely above a whisper. “When do we leave?”
“We can go right now if you’re feeling it. Are you, Jamie?”
It was the first time anyone had used his nickname since he left Tempe. “Right now? I don’t have anything.”
“You have XCs and we have to make a stop north of England. Ditch your tablet over the dock there. No tracking.”
Aaron wanted to seal the deal as soon as he could. It made Jamie a little nervous, but at the same time, Aaron was doing him a huge favor. A favor based on something Ingrid had divulged about him. “I have a life here. I’d need to cancel my classes, close up the flat…”
Now Aaron turned and faced Jamie head to chin. In a quiet, serious tone of voice, he said, “You won’t need to. It’s all taken care of.”
He got the feeling there was more to it than the twenty grand. He glanced around. Nobody paid them any attention. He closed his eyes and felt the ocean air brush his clothes. The smell was hypnotic and reminded him of swimming with his dad and brother in the Pacific. He didn’t tell Aaron, but his mom had died when he was three and he never knew her. She’d never had the chance to tell him not to trust men with two first names.
He had to do this. They were all but giving it to him, he just had to pay for it. Too much was strange, odd. After the night he’d spent vomiting and heaving, he felt like Ingrid was trying to tell him a truth. This boat captain knew that truth. And maybe this captain would say more on open waters than at the docks.
“Okay. I’ll trust you.”
“Well, you sure as hell can’t trust the government.” He laughed at his own joke and patted Jamie on the shoulder. “Come on aboard. I’ll show you the engines. Runs on salt water, just like any fastboat, but better and faster.”
Jamie got on the boat and looked around. There was a hatch leading to below deck where Jamie would sleep, if he could ever again. The idea that he might see Amanda once more was burned into his reality.
There were cushioned seats with safety harnesses, three on each side of the deck. Another hatch at the far end wa
s where Aaron went, and he popped the door open. “Come on down!” he said and took the ladder out of sight.
Jamie followed. Inside the cramped engine room, Aaron impressed Jamie with his gadgetry. He had some things Jamie had never even heard of. He thought the four-day thing was more of a sales pitch, but now he believed the slippery captain. He talked about the machinery for a few minutes, and then pulled out an Xchange Credit donator. He cleared his throat and looked at the unmoving parts of the engine.
“Oh, right.” Jamie put his thumb on the pad. He tapped twenty thousand Xchange Credits onto the keypad, wondering if the UNE would notice. Although illegal, it was possible they might be monitoring his spending. “And nobody will…?” He had to ask.
“Nobody will know a thing. Thank you very much, sir. Our boat is ready to sail. Let’s go above deck and watch the Netherlands disappear like a forgotten memory.” He didn’t act like he was being ironic, so maybe Aaron didn’t know his story.
They climbed to the deck and Aaron went to the control panel. He operated the computer screen by tapping here and there. It was what some in the twentieth century might call ‘old school’. When Jamie felt the kick-off from the pier and the speed, he understood the harnesses.
“Ever been on the ocean in a boat?”
Jamie yelled over the wind as he strapped himself down. “No.”
Aaron stood by the computer screen and waited about twenty minutes before slipping into his own harness by the screen. He brought up the plasti-dome over the boat. “You’re getting a treat few get to see. Now wait till you feel this!”
The dome only barely helped with the weird sensation of moving so fast over choppy water, but despite the motion, Jamie wasn’t feeling sick now.
Chapter 8
The only thing Jamie learned from the strange boat captain was that he wore the ball cap to cover up where he had his implant removed. He dodged all questions about how he survived without the implant. “Not my place to say,” was the dead end Jamie ran into throughout the trip. Once they got south of England, they slept in sleeping bags on deck because the weather was perfect for it.
Before going to Amsterdam, Jamie had never been away from the southwest of the States district. He didn’t feel a need, as some historians do, to travel. See it all. He wanted to save for their family.
Aaron wished him luck at the port in Virginia. He wrote down on a piece of paper where to go to find the bus driver, avoiding his eyes while he did.
Jamie watched his fastboat skim over the water. Aaron wasted no time getting far away from Jamie; he didn’t look back, not even once.
Jamie walked down the pier and found an old paved road. This part of the US hadn’t done as well in the last thirty years. Floods and hurricanes had uprooted many families, and the ones left were either diehards or didn’t have enough Xchange Credits to get out West.
He walked for half an hour before he reached the motel described on the note. It was a ramshackle place, a haunted vision of what once might have been. Just the kind of thing Jamie loved.
He went into the Motel Moonlight’s lobby and approached the desk clerk.
“Hello, sir,” said the chipper girl behind the counter. She looked about twenty-one, the right age for this job. Would she be able to get out of Virginia, or was she stuck there, trying to save up? Did she love it there? Did she know any local legends?
“Hello,” he answered. “I’m looking for someone…named Deborah? I don’t have a last name.”
“Oh her.” She had a soft Southern drawl. She eyed his hips, and he realized she was checking him for weapons or a badge.
He couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on again. Why would he have a weapon? What could she be hiding from the UNE?
“Yeah, I was told to meet her here.”
“She’s not back from this week’s trip out West. She should be in tomorrow afternoon though. You need a ride?”
“Yeah.”
“Where to?”
“T—t—t—” Jamie grabbed his gut and tried to stop the dizzy spell that threatened to send him to the ground.
“Hey, now. You alright?” She sounded concerned.
“Yeah, yeah. Just got off a boat.”
“Oh, seasick. I gotcha.”
He couldn’t even speak the name of the city. How was he supposed to enter it? And why the hell couldn’t he speak it aloud?
On one hand, it made him feel better about abandoning his life and spending a chunk of his savings on coming here. On the other, he felt lost and alone like never before. Who could help him? Did this Deborah have the answers he desperately wanted and needed?
He steadied himself and nodded at the girl behind the counter. “Can I have a room?”
Her eyes darted back and forth, even though they were the only two in the small lobby. “Not if you’re seein’ her,” she whispered.
He wanted to ask her what that meant, but she seemed downright afraid of something. Instead, he held out his hands. “Okay, no problem. What time should I find her here tomorrow?”
Still whispering, she said, “Three. Don’t be late. She don’t like that.”
“Okay.” He nodded at her and left the lobby. Jamie had no clue what to do or where to stay, and by now, if what Ingrid hinted at was true and the UNE had done something to him, wouldn’t they be looking for him?
Maybe he shouldn’t use his right thumb for anything but an old-fashioned ride.
He walked back to the small pier and, although he was starving, he didn’t want to pay for a single thing with his Xchange Credits. He lay down in some bushes near the water north of the dock and took a few deep breaths. He just had to make sure he didn’t sweat all his fluids out and not do much activity, and he wouldn’t have to eat.
He could stay there until tomorrow. Then he would walk back to Moonlight’s and find the mysterious Deborah.
Chapter 9
Jamie awoke from his few hours of sleep having one of the worst nightmares yet. In this one, the black-haired doctor with the needles overcame him and he was gutted in front of his high school class. He sat up in the bushes, covered in sweat, hands shaking. Something about being thirty-five and dreaming about being back in high school was scary enough, but throw in a good gutting…
He was hungry. Seriously hungry. But he wasn’t going to pay one Credit. Not yet.
He made it to Motel Moonlight by noon and parked his bottom by the lobby door. He’d peeked in and the girl was working again. He figured the last place she’d notice him was right under her gaze if she look out the window.
Three long hours passed, and then a little twenty-seater bus came into the nearly empty parking lot. It pulled through and went around back. Jamie got up and went into the lobby.
The girl smiled and looked up, then her face fell. “Oh, it’s you again.”
“Nice to see you too.”
She pursed her lips. “I guess you saw her come in. You just go on ‘round back and talk to her. You really aren’t supposed to talk to me. Go on.” She waved her hands as though he were an annoying fly. He did as instructed.
The bus was stopped by a trail leading into the Virginia woods, the motor still running. People sat around in chairs and on the ground seemingly everywhere. What were all these people doing here?
Some were in the process of getting up from what looked like long sits. How did he not hear them when he was in front of the motel? Then he noticed. None of them were talking. They sat fanning themselves with electric fans and stared at the bus. He realized he could’ve stayed behind the hotel with everyone else, save himself the trip to the docks.
He turned his gaze that way and assumed he found Deborah. Easily the oldest person there, she had white hair down to her shoulders in wavy layers. She was bony and bright-eyed, greeting the people. The crowd looked on with hunger like Jamie felt. Did all these people want to take the bus?
Deborah called out so everyone could hear her. “Alright, one name per person, please, and drop it in this hat.
I have paper and a pen.” She put a beanie on the top step going into the bus.
He had to do something. He’d figured this was some kind of lottery; that these people all wanted on that bus.
He made his way to Deborah patiently, coming up behind her as she flipped through her tablet waiting for the hat to be finished. “Are you Deborah?”
“That’s me. You need a ride,” she said without looking up, “you put your name in the hat. Your name gets pulled, you ride where you need to go.” She also had the charming accent, but it had more twang.
In a low voice, he told her, “I was told to come to you.”
She finally looked up at him. “You were? By who?” She was genuinely curious.
“By Aaron Branden. Captain of The She.”
“Oh,” she said, glaring into the woods. “You probably used your XCs already, didn’t you?”
“What? No.”
“Whew. He never tells enough stuff outright. He was supposed to tell you that, but he doesn’t always do what he’s supposed to do. Well, put your name in the hat and if you don’t get called, there’s always next week. And whatever you do, don’t use them XCs.”
“Why not?”
She looked at him again, clearly tired of the conversation. “Where you going?”
“I can’t…say it.”
“Can you write it?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t tried.”
“Well, write it on your paper with your name and we’ll see what happens.” She gave him a quick smile, then dismissed him by turning her attention to her tablet.
Looking around, he counted roughly forty people for the twenty-seater bus—he had a fifty-fifty chance. Hoping he had good luck, he got in line with the others. When it was his turn, he wrote ‘Jamie,’ and then he wrote a ‘T’.
Nothing happened.
He covered the ‘T’ and wrote an ‘E’.
Nothing.
He finished writing the words ‘Tempe, Arizona’, while covering each letter before it. Before he could think about it, he took his hand off the name of the city he lived in his whole life.
Disconnected (Implanted Book 1) Page 3