by David Beers
Charles pulled his hand away from his nose and looked down at the pale fish lying in front of him.
He kicked Phillips in the ribs and then walked away.
Pain.
Tommy remembered the concept, though he no longer knew it. The electrodes on his skin wrecked the body he lived in … but this torture made Tommy hesitant to call it his body. The only positive that came from Luke’s severing of his spinal chord was that now he could feel nothing happening to him.
Tommy couldn’t look over at Christian, but he didn’t think his partner was unconscious in the sense that Twaller probably did. When Tommy wasn’t being electrocuted, he remained as alert as possible to his surroundings. He’d seen six different guards already, which meant that they were working in eight hour shifts. Two came in together and they always left together. Tommy hadn’t seen or heard anyone else besides the guards, but he doubted they were alone.
Mostly Tommy paid attention to what was happening with Christian and himself, because that’s about all he could pay attention to.
Christian was going to his mansion a lot—at least, that’s what Tommy thought. Perhaps when he went there, he didn’t feel the pain that had grown so great out here. Or perhaps, he was developing a way to help them escape. Tommy didn’t know. He just knew that Christian wasn’t with him much anymore, though he doubted it was due to unconsciousness.
For Tommy’s part, he was coming to terms with his impending death.
He knew he couldn’t go on like this much longer. His inability to move was causing problems of its own. His blood, if it hadn’t already, would start to settle in his back, creating clots. Once that happened, it was all over. It was growing harder for him to breathe as well, his lungs losing their ability to completely fill with oxygen.
Tommy understood he wouldn’t survive this. Most likely Christian wouldn’t either, although his chances were a bit higher.
I hope you’re discovering something inside yourself, Christian. For your sake, I hope you’re finding a way out of this, he thought.
The lights went off overhead, Twaller leaving the two of them in darkness again.
That was fine with Tommy. The greatest thing life offered him any longer was a chance to sleep.
Chapter 4
Christian was inside his mansion. The top floor was still available to him, though when he looked down the staircase, he knew it wouldn’t be for much longer. The water was rising higher … almost by the minute. Did Twaller know how close they were to death?
“Of course,” Christian said aloud, almost laughing at how stupid of a question he’d asked. “He just doesn’t care.”
That wasn’t true, though. Not completely. He cared enough to keep from killing them outright. For some reason, he wanted them alive when Luke showed up—his rage was making him do things which might make that impossible.
“None of it matters. If Luke doesn’t show up, you’re both dead. And soon.” The other stood behind Christian as he looked at the rising water below him. “How does it feel to be depending on Luke for your life? It seems that you’re always needing him to ensure you keep living.”
“How so?” Christian said.
“Well, he made sure Bradley Brown didn’t kill you. Then he kept Lucy from killing everyone, though in a roundabout way. And in Hinson’s house, he could have killed you, but left you alive. To be honest, you owe Luke about three or four lifetimes, given how much he’s kept you and those you love alive.”
“Tommy might disagree.”
“Would he? Sure, his fiancée is dead, but he’s alive.”
“I’m sure he’s very appreciative of Luke for that,” Christian said. He turned from the balcony and looked at the other. “Why are you still here?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“I think it has something to do with Luke. You’re perhaps the first attempt my mind made to categorize him. It thought I might recognize what he was doing when you appeared, but I didn’t. So then it went and created this entire floor, spelling it out for me like I was a child. I think you might be here because he’s still here.”
“So, all you have to do to get rid of me, is get rid of Luke. That what you’re saying?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, at least you have a plan. That’s the first step, right?”
Christian had entered his mansion almost as soon as the lug in the warehouse started beating him. He probably would have passed out within a minute or so regardless, but in here, he could continue thinking. His body was near the point of giving out, and while his mind was somewhat better off, it was weakening fast as well.
“So, how long do you plan on staying with us?” the other asked.
“Us?”
“It’s a phrase. Play along.”
Christian shook his head and walked by the apparition, heading through Luke’s floor. He made it to the back and sat down in front of the television.
“This again? You going to follow him through college now?”
Christian ignored him as the television flashed on.
“You really think the answers are in that TV, don’t you? You’re not just passing time while your body dies. You believe something in there is going to tell you how to beat Luke.”
“He didn’t know I’d be waiting for him in my hotel room, did he?”
“So what?”
“So, he can’t see everything all the time, regardless of how smart he is. And if something in his past gives me an advantage, then I’ll use it.”
“Back to boring videos, I suppose,” the other said.
Christian leaned into his chair and started watching.
At 18 years old, most of the moments that define Luke’s life have already passed. A few more await, but they are minor, and only tweak what is already true.
Unfortunately Brenda Manor does not know this. Had she possessed this knowledge, she would not have approached Luke on the bench. Indeed, she probably would have left him alone completely.
That isn’t the way life works, though, and Brenda is the first to join what Luke considers a much bigger game than herself.
He will, many years later, tell another woman something very similar. Her name will be Alice and she’ll be tied up in his living room when he says, “You’re a piece in a much larger game. Larger than I have the time or desire to describe right now. Just know you’re taking part in something much grander than your life could ever hope to be. Perhaps that can comfort you some with what comes next.”
Luke goes and has a drink with Brenda, though keeps his count at two. He doesn’t want to lose his wits.
They talk and laugh, Luke growing into his newly found charm. It comes to him easily, naturally even, and it seems to attract Brenda like a Venus flytrap attracts insects.
He knows the girl likes him; it’s obvious from the way she flirts back. For the first time in his life, Luke views himself as separate from the actual trappings of reality. He sees what his body is doing, his smile, his eyes—yet, he feels none of the emotions he is portraying. Luke is not happy, nor sad, but is simply existing. Playing the role expected of him. The girl is beautiful and flirtatious, so he behaves like any college male might.
Yet, there is something deeper here. It tugs at Luke like a toddler pulling on his pant leg.
The date ends and Luke walks her back to her dorm room. All freshmen have to stay on campus. She writes her number down for him and he promises to call, then leaves.
He walks across the campus, the sun down and the moon ruling once again. That something is still tugging on him, almost an itch at this point.
What is it?
What?
Luke had planned to go to his dorm room, but decides against it. His roommate will be there and he needs time alone to determine what is pestering his mind so much. He finds a bench and sits down, leaning back against it.
He closes his eyes.
Unbidden, his mother comes to him, lying on the couch while the priest rapes her. His brother, Mark, a
rrives next—though not the person Luke knew most of his life. This is the brother that the sickness carved out, thin and pale. Hairless.
Both of those visions disappear and Luke remains in darkness, his eyes still closed. He doesn’t know why he leaves them that way, only feels it’s the right thing to do.
In that darkness, the something that’s been tugging at him reveals itself. It starts as a single bright dot, like a star in a black sky. Luke knows that star is him. A line shoots from the dot, and where it ends, another star is born. This one is red, and three red lines strike out from it into the darkness, each one ending in another red star. More lines, more stars. It spreads further and further, with no end in sight.
He is the white star, and the red ones? What are they?
He watches them continue to spread, covering a black sky that doesn’t exist … or at least not yet. It will exist, though—all of this. Is that what he’s seeing?
His hate for God is known, but what is he supposed to do about it? What can a man do against a god?
This, he thinks. This is what you do.
You start with one line and from there, you spread, like a virus. You show God that he does not control anything down here any longer. That this world is not his to dictate, but rather, the chaos he loved to throw in other people’s lives would now rule. Chaos started by you, Luke, by a single white star alone in a universe.
He opens his eyes, dashing the red stars in front of him. Brenda could be the first, the line connected to him that would spread disorder and pain. Brenda, the pretty girl who wanted a date.
What would he do with her, or to her? Luke sat quietly in the darkness as he considered the question. If he were to begin this in earnest, this rejection of God, then he would need skills for this—ones the priest had not been able to help him develop.
Manipulation would be needed, no doubt about it.
So could he start there with Brenda?
Why not?
“What’s he going to do to that poor girl?” the other asked.
Christian didn’t know. This was new for him.
“Did you think she’s real?” the other said.
“Yeah, I do.”
“But you don’t have any records of her?”
Christian shook his head and stood up from the chair. “Luke’s undergraduate records are immaculate. There’s not a single stain. Straight As. Dean’s list. He didn’t graduate valedictorian, but I believe that’s because he didn’t want to. He didn’t want the spotlight on him so early, and maybe this girl was the reason why.”
“Or maybe you’re making it all up, hoping to find something that isn’t there.”
“Maybe,” Christian said.
“Going to stay a bit longer, or do you think the beating has stopped?”
The bodyguard had to be done hitting him by now, or Christian would be dead. He wanted to go further, to let the television keep playing these new episodes of Luke’s past, but he needed to get back—for Tommy’s sake if not his own.
The pain would be close to unbearable, but he could return here if he needed. He could always do that.
Chapter 5
The animal stepped out of the cab and handed over cash. He didn’t look back for his change, but instead pulled his only bag over his shoulder and stepped away from the car.
It pulled off, leaving the animal alone to stare at the house.
Two years had passed since Luke Titan’s disappearance, but the house he once owned was still there. No one else had bought it; the FBI possessed it now and they hadn’t auctioned it off.
The animal, of course, didn’t know the glory it once held, now only seeing it in its shuttered state.
The grass was tall, nearly hiding the house from the street. The gate was closed and the fountain sitting in the middle of the wraparound driveway was dry, water no longer shooting into the air before falling into its moat.
The animal put his bag on his back and then placed both hands on the gate. Years ago, Tommy Phillips and Christian Windsor had needed to scale this fence, but neither of them did it with the grace and strength of the animal. He gripped the top of the gate tightly, and then with an ease that said nothing of the weight of his pack, he pulled himself to the top of the gate. He swung his legs over and then dropped on the other side.
The animal landed lightly, looking around the yard as he did. There was nothing to see anymore, at least not out here; the place was a relic of some past time. The animal was here for a very specific purpose.
He went to the front door and turned the knob. Surprisingly, it twisted beneath his hand and the door swung open before him.
The animal walked inside, taking in the smell of the place. The man’s scent was still here, though faint. The animal moved to the living room, stopping as he did. Much of the furniture was missing, but not all of it.
A dark stain rested on the floor just in front of the animal’s feet. Blood. He wondered what had happened here. He knew preliminaries about the target, but not details. He would find out more soon.
He left the bloodstain and went deeper into the house, checking the rooms as he did. The man’s scent was stronger the further the animal walked. Finally, he found the old owner’s bedroom … and the closet, which is what he had come for.
He opened the closet door and saw a large room in front of him—as big as the animal’s entire kitchen back home. Clothes were strewn on the floor, discarded while law enforcement had trashed the whole place—the animal had no idea what they were looking for, but doubted they found it.
He knew what he wanted, though, and it was in front of him.
The animal stepped to one of the suits still hanging. He reached forward and took hold of the jacket’s fabric, then brought it to his nose. He breathed in deeply. He smelled the man’s soap, and the skin that had rested just beneath the clothing. Clean, no trace of sweat. The animal closed his eyes and focused on the scents moving into his nostrils. Light cologne, though the animal couldn’t quite place it. He would need to research that later. The man smelled different than others, as if perhaps his power of smell rivaled the animal’s—thus ensuring he gave off a unique scent, tame, yet strong.
The animal brought his knife out and cut a 4x4 inch patch from the suit jacket. He brought the patch to his nose and breathed in again, making sure the scent remained. Once satisfied, the animal folded it gently and placed it in his right pocket. He turned and looked out at the bedroom.
This place had once been the target’s, but no more. It was a tomb, and the animal simply smelled the remnants of the dead.
Chapter 6
“Why do you need me for this?” Veronica asked.
She and Luke were in a car, another Tesla, though she didn’t know if Luke owned it or not. She certainly wasn’t allowed to drive it, though he hadn’t handcuffed her while he did. She sat next to him, her limbs free to move, even to attack if she wanted; yet she did nothing except stare out the window.
“Well, if we’re going to have a reunion, I think it’s important for you to be there,” Luke said.
“A reunion? What about the agent you killed when you grabbed me? What about his family? His life? A reunion was worth that?” Veronica looked over at him and saw a smirk across his face.
“I don’t understand your question,” Luke said.
“You understand it fine. You kidnapped me and ended someone’s life in the process. How does that not fucking mean anything to you?”
“Well, kidnapping you meant a great deal. I’m very happy to have you along.”
“You’re insane,” Veronica said, turning back to the window and giving up on the conversation. She shouldn’t have even asked. There was no point in trying to converse with the thing next to her.
“No, that agent’s life doesn’t matter to me in the slightest. It’s inconsequential.”
“How? How does his family not matter?” she asked, unable to help herself.
“His death, just as all the deaths by my hand, serve a greate
r purpose. They serve something that is beyond them.”
“You?” Veronica nearly spat as she spoke.
“No, I’m only the messenger. The message is even bigger than me.”
“That God doesn’t control us?”
Luke chuckled, though he didn’t look over. “It’s not that he doesn’t control us. Of course he doesn’t control us; we have free will, if you believe in such a thing. No, the message is that he doesn’t control anything. Chaos and disorder will rise whether he wants it to or not. He is not the final arbiter of them.”
“And how does that agent’s death fit into that at all?”
“His death will magnify a hundred fold. Perhaps even a thousand. Not considering the problems his death will cause within the FBI, we can look only at his family and see the wide ranging effects. His parents will suffer greatly, and their suffering will spread to others as well. Those who try to comfort them. People that somehow find themselves the subject of the parents’ inadvertent wrath. His wife? His toddler child? She will be forced to raise the kid alone, and most likely—if statistics are to be trusted—it will grow up with greater problems as an adolescent. It may even turn into a delinquent, stealing cars, or perhaps even violent crimes. And that child’s child?” Luke looked over. “Do you see, Veronica? Each person I touch creates a ripple effect that may never end.”
“And that is how you plan on defeating God?” she asked, not fully grasping the logic behind his statement. She knew there was logic in it, yet that logic rested on a bedrock of insanity.
“Defeating God? I’m not sure such a creature can be defeated, but to spit in his eye is a start.”
The two rode in silence for a while, Veronica contemplating his spiel. She thought there were glaring errors written all across it, but bringing them up would be futile. Luke would have answers, endless ones most likely. His words could talk circles around her own logic, until she didn’t know up from down or right from left.