The Game

by Scollins, Shane

  An electric guitar sat propped on a stand. A desktop computer with a CRT style monitor took up a large portion of a desk, and a thicket of books streamed across the top of the shelf above.

  He bent down and picked up a well-worn baseball glove, a ball fit snugly inside the pocket. He slipped the glove on. It was small, clearly made for a twelve or thirteen year old, but it felt right on his hand. For a flicker of a moment he wondered if this glove had somehow belonged to him, but he cast that aside. There were no memories of this place, and any kid’s glove would probably feel the same.

  He tossed the glove on the bed and made his way around the rest of the house. Opening every cabinet and drawer, he looked for some sign of who he was. But there was nothing.

  After exhausting every option inside, he headed outside.

  The yard looked as neglected as the house. There was some well-done landscaping, but it was overgrown, broken down. No one had been here to cut the grass in years. Thickets of last year’s weeds still stood with stout form, waiting for the right time to start their yearly cycle. The air was cold again, as it had been a few days ago. It smelled like snow.

  He made his way to the street under a solid gray sky. To the left was farmland as far as he could see, a few silos and large, modern barns were visible. To the right a series of houses and other buildings shimmered in the distance. He started toward them.

  He checked his pockets again, looking for some identification, but there was nothing. In the front left pocket of his blue jeans was a wadded up twenty-dollar bill, a ten, a five, and three singles. He stuffed the money back in.

  Flurries fluttered down slowly. He zipped his black leather jacket and marched into the parking lot of a place that just said Diner in red letters across the top of its train-car exterior.

  He entered the establishment and sat in one of the pale orange plastic booths. A waitress, probably in her mid-fifties, trying desperately to cling to her looks with makeup and big curly red hair, greeted him.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” She placed a menu on his table.

  “Just some coffee, please.”

  She returned with a cup in just a few seconds. “You just passin’ through?”

  “I’m…my car broke down.”

  “Oh, bummer. Did you need a tow? ‘Cuz I know a local guy, real good, he can fix you up quick and get you back on the road.”

  “Umm…no, thanks, a tow service already took it back home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “Well, they took it to Morristown, New Jersey.”

  She looked at him funny. “Yikes, what’s a tow from Hackettstown to Morristown worth these days?”

  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot, honey.”

  “Are you from around here?”

  “Oh yes. I grew up here, on the Makish Farm just a couple miles down the street. We used to grow mostly corn and Jersey tomatoes, but now we grow every vegetable you can imagine. I live there with my kids, work here during the week and at the farm on weekends. There’s not a lot of farms left in The Garden State…kinda ironic, huh?”

  “What’s the deal with that abandoned house about a half mile back?” She tilted her head, pursed her lips. He added, “I’m a real estate buff and it looked like a good place to flip.”

  She nodded. “I guess you’re not from around here. I don’t think anyone would want to buy that house after what happened in it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Oh, it was a terrible thing, The Raven Family Murders.”

  “Raven murders?”

  “The Raven family, whole family was murdered. They were such a nice family. The father, Alex, he was a local scientist, worked at Polytech Labs down in Mount Olive. His wife Emily was a teacher at Glenwood Elementary up on Highland Street. It was such a shame.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Well, Emily Raven had a best friend, Lola Archibald. I was in school with both of them. But Lola, she died in a fire, so the Ravens temporarily took on Lola’s son. Well, the boy was a serious problem child. Something happened, and the Ravens’ son, Lukas—”

  He interrupted her. “Lukas? The boy’s name was Lukas?”

  “Yes, Lukas Raven. His baby sister was Samantha.”

  “What was the boy’s name?”

  “Lukas, it was Lukas…”

  “No, the other boy.”

  “Angus Archibald. You’ve probably heard of him. He was kinda infamous.”

  It was as if a mallet struck him on the head, his vision swooned. The air had escaped from his lungs. It would not return.

  “Hey, Honey, are you okay? Let me get you some water.” The waitress spun away and returned with a glass of water. “Here, drink this. You don’t look so good.”

  He was Lukas Raven. Somehow, he knew it. He felt it. “He killed them.”

  “Yes, it was horrible. A twelve-year-old boy slaughtered the mother, father, and sister while they slept. It was horrible. Angus walked into town covered in blood.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I don’t suppose anyone knows. They tried to convict him as an adult but some moron judge wouldn’t allow it. They locked him up until he was twenty-one, that was some years ago. He could be anywhere now.”

  He wasn’t sure how or what, but his jumps had led him back to himself. He was somehow alive again, as himself. Only, he was dead. He had no life, no one knew him.

  “He killed them all,” he said again.

  “Well, that’s not entirely true. The son lived, ended up in an asylum. He was clinically dead but they managed to bring him back. But he had brain damage or mental issues or something. So they sent him down to Iron Stone, where he stayed until it went out of business, I suppose.”

  He looked to her. “The son, Lukas, he lived?”

  “Well, if you can call it living. He was basically a vegetable from what I hear. It’s a real shame too, because his father had some invention that was worth millions of dollars.”

  He shook his head. “This is unbelievable.”

  “You know, it’s funny. I haven’t talked about that incident in years, and you’re the second person in two days to ask about it.”

  “He was here,” he said aloud. Standing up, he fished a dollar out of his pocket for the coffee he’d never touched and headed out the door.

  Chapter 34

  Candice waited impatiently. She wanted him to return, badly. Never in her life had she felt like this about anyone. It wasn’t her style to fall so hard, so quickly. She was usually the one who needed convincing. There was no easy way around this. Whatever he was, she wanted to be with him.

  For some reason, she felt like crying. All the insanity over the past week had culminated with one final emotion, the last one she expected. She could only imagine what he was going through. A small part of her wished she could experience what he had, so she could understand what he’d been living through.

  It was nearly two in the morning but she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. The soft knock on the door would have gone unnoticed had she been asleep, but she heard it.

  Candice looked through the peephole, but she didn’t recognize the man on the other side of the door. Her heart knocked hard against her breastbone, she took a deep calming breath.

  “Candice?” the man said. She didn’t answer. “Candice, I can hear you breathing. Please, it’s me.”

  She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know this man. Or did she?

  “Please, Candice.”

  She spoke through the door, softly. “Who are you, what do you want?”

  She could see the consternation twist his face. His eyes searched suspiciously.

  “It’s me, Lukas, Vince, me…”

  “I’m call
ing the police if you don’t leave.”

  “Candice, what’s happening? Why don’t you recognize me?”

  This man couldn’t be Lukas, he looked different. He looked somewhat similar, but there was something different about him. The confusion weaved through her mind.

  “Please, Candice, open the door and you’ll see it’s me. Just before I disappeared, you told me you loved me.”

  She looked at the phone in her hand, dialed nine, one, but stopped short of the final number. Her thumb quivered, she looked again through the peephole. The gloom of the hallway didn’t help. It caused odd shadows to paint his face. Maybe her mind was playing tricks with her. He couldn’t possibly know what she’d said to Lukas before he faded.

  Against her common sense, Candice opened the door. When she met his eyes, everything felt right. She took a deep breath. “It is you!”

  “Yes.”

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him. “I’m so glad you came back.”

  “Me too.”

  “This is crazy. I couldn’t wait to see you. I haven’t slept.” She turned in a circle, stepped around a pile of boxes, and headed towards the kitchen. “I just kept wondering if this was all a dream or something.” She didn’t know what to do. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Are you moving somewhere?”

  “I’m almost fully packed. I can’t live here anymore.”

  “What about your job? Are you going to try and get it back?”

  Candice shook her head. “The police know I was set up, but I don’t want that job anymore. I just want a new start. I made a formal request to end my apartment lease and I get my deposit money back tomorrow.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I’m moving in with Zee for now.”

  Lukas sat down on the couch. “I was right.”

  Candice walked in with two bottles of beer and handed one to Lukas, then sat next to him. “Right about what?”

  “About my name. It is Lukas. I know who I am.”

  “I’m sorry, I was just going to ask you.” She looked at him curiously. “Who are you, right now?”

  He tilted his head back into the couch. “I’m me. I came back as me.”

  “What?” She leaned forward. “How do you know?”

  “I woke up in a strange house. I didn’t know who I was, as usual. But I found out. I’m Lukas Raven.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “I remember everything…well, almost everything. I woke up in my house, the house where my family was murdered.”

  Candice could see a profound sadness in him that broke her heart. Wetness welled up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly.

  “I was thirteen, almost fourteen years old. My parents took in a kid whose mother died in a fire. His name was Angus Archibald. He was twelve. I didn’t know him much other than the fact our parents were friends. I woke up in the middle of the night, my sister was screaming. I ran into her room and Angus was on top of her, stabbing her over and over again. I freaked out. I ran over and pushed him off her onto the floor. There was so much blood.” Lukas’ face was wet with tears. “Samantha, she just looked up at me, she was alive but gasping for breath, she tried to say my name, she tried but it just hissed out. She died in my arms. Then, Angus stabbed me. That’s the last thing I remember.”

  “Oh, Lukas.” Candice didn’t even know what to say. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I still don’t know how I lived, or why I’ve been jumping in and out of bodies for all these years.”

  Candice eased her arms around him. “Welcome back.”

  “I wish I knew everything.”

  “Maybe we can find out those things together.”

  Lukas nodded. “I hope so, because something tells me I won’t be getting any more clues.”

  “Maybe that means you’re here to stay.” She kissed him softly on the cheek.

  He nodded. “I get the feeling I am.”

  Chapter 35

  Angus handed the clerk the credit card and smiled confidently. The cute strawberry-haired girl looked at him, smiled and said, “I need to see some identification. Sorry, it’s store policy on any credit card purchase of more than one thousand dollars.”

  “No problem.” He slid his driver’s license out and handed it to her.

  A frown formed on the cashier’s face. She looked at the license then looked up at him. Then she repeated the process, eyeing him closer. “Umm, sir, I think you gave me the wrong license.”

  Angus plucked the card from her and nearly puked when he looked down. “This can’t be.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Raven, I can’t run the transaction without a photo I.D.”

  “This can not be!” He felt faint, confused, he ran out of the store, leaving behind the two laptops and two tablets. His breath was ragged, shallow. It felt like a horse was galloping in his chest. Everything had just gone impossibly wrong. The rug had been yanked out from under his reality.

  He had been living as Lukas Raven since the day he got out of the hell they’d trapped him in. For years, no one had questioned him.

  The only way he could become Lukas Raven was to kill him. And the only way to get his hands on the fortune was to kill the entire family. The fact that Lukas persisted, in a vegetative state, was actually a blessing in disguise. It was a happy accident. He couldn’t have planned that if he tried. He only learned later that if Lukas had died, the money would have gone to the endowment of Cornell University.

  The moment he got out of jail, he started the process to become Lukas Raven. It was a lot of painstaking detail and effort, but worth it once he got his hands on the Raven family fortune. To make sure there would never be a mistake, he purchased the Iron Stone Mountain mental facility where Lukas was living, closed the doors, and kept only one patient.

  By the time Angus put the car in gear, his panic had escalated to frantic proportions. It was a struggle to drive but he managed to speed off to the apartment where he kept Lukas.

  The tiny one room apartment was just off Route 10 in Morris Plains. He ran to the door, burst in, and found the wheelchair empty. “No, no, how can this be?” He stormed through the one bedroom apartment but Lukas Raven was nowhere.

  This was impossible, the man hadn’t moved on his own in years. He was an invalid, a vegetable. He couldn’t move, his muscles were atrophied to dust. Angus had a full time nursing crew to tend to his cash cow’s every need, to keep him alive, mostly in case he needed a fingerprint. The man couldn’t get up and walk out on his own.

  He pulled the license out of his wallet again, glaring defiantly at the picture. A smiling Lukas Raven stared back at him. He didn’t look gaunt and thin in the picture, but youthful and strong. He was handsome and clean-shaven, with piercing dark blue eyes that concealed a strength Angus could never project.

  He hated that confident and popular kid. Lukas had it all. The popularity and good looks, talent and skills. He was some sort of baseball prodigy that everyone in town used to talk about, while Angus had nothing.

  This made no sense on any level. That was supposed to be Angus’ face, his identity. He went to the DMV with Lukas’ birth certificate and social security card and took that picture. The picture couldn’t just change.

  Angus took his phone out and called Rena right away, but she didn’t answer. He hadn’t killed anyone in years, but he felt like doing it now. He didn’t consider himself a killer. He had been a killer, but he preferred to be the director. He preferred to have people like Caleb do his killing for him. He would kill for a purpose, as a means to an end.

  Finding Lukas was paramount. He called the nursing agency, but was careful. There was no need to report him missing because that wouldn’t work to his benefit. If they found him he would identify as Lukas Raven, which meant An
gus would have to prove who he was, and no one would want to help him. Angus Archibald was not someone people would believe. He used the name Angus Peckham in his private business to separate himself from the other two identities.

  The nursing company confirmed the last nurse left three hours ago. The next one was due any moment. There was never more than a four-hour gap in coverage.

  The lock on the front door clicked, the door swung open. It was young Sandra, a nurse from Home Care Services. She was one of those people that was neither attractive nor unattractive. Angus liked her blonde hair but not her thin lips.

  “Hi, Mr. Raven.” She dropped her bag on the chair by the front door. “I didn’t expect to see you here this time of day.”

  Angus didn’t answer.

  “Where’s your brother?” She looked around, then walked up to the empty wheelchair. “Is someone else here?”

  Angus had no answer. He moved in close to her and wrapped his hands around her throat. The feeling of choking someone was something he had never experienced, but he liked it. She flailed and struggled, scratching his face and drawing blood on his arm, but he didn’t relent. Even after she stopped struggling, he kept choking. After a few minutes, he finally let go.

  His hands were shaking. It felt good to kill again, but this time it didn’t quell his anxiety over the situation. This wasn’t what he liked to do. He only killed for a reason. For profit, for gain, Angus Archibald would kill. This was a kill for the pure release and it did not bring him the joy he wanted.

  He gathered himself and ambled out of the apartment.

  Chapter 36