Chapter 5

Sunday, July 4, 1976

Luna Base.

Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon in a hidden base, the Agents of Chaos are assembled. “I don’t want excuses. I want results,” called out the voice from the empty chair. The voice was eerily calm and quiet, measured even, no ranting or shouting. No one interrupted him. “Now, how is it that the young man is still alive? I was informed that the auto accident had been successful. And now, I have reports stating otherwise. Who is to blame for this?”

“We aren’t sure yet. The boy was confirmed dead on site. Then witnesses started to gather, and of course, the police and ambulances arrived. We had to bug out. It wouldn’t have been smart to hang around. We did our best to obscure our presence. But if we’d remained any longer, it would have become suspicious. We might have been questioned or asked to swear out statements as to what we saw. Trivial, but it might have come back to bite us in the end. So, we just bugged out. Sometime between that and the ambulance’s arrival to the hospital, they made the switch. How were we to know that a black op on another timeline was going to cross with ours? The way we figure it, The Guardians had just literally nanoseconds to act and intervene. They had to have a spy within our organization to time it that close.”

“Really?” The voice responded. “A spy, in this, the inner circle? I just don’t see that as being realistic.”

Another agent interjected, “They got lucky is all. No matter, we’ll just kill the kid again. It shouldn’t be too hard to do. Our informants tell us he is in a coma. How hard could it be to kill him in a hospital? People die all the time in hospitals. How many people ever survive the injuries he has suffered? Killing him would be considered merciful.”

“Yes, I agree with him, |Your Supremacy,” said the first agent. He bowed and backed away from the empty chair. No one at his level got to see His Supremacy. Only a select few of the Agents of Chaos have had that privilege, and for some, it was that last thing they ever saw in this existence.

After the oversized double Steel glass doors shut with a hiss, he was met by the security section chief who had escorted him to this location.

“Follow me, sir. I’ll take you back to the transporter that will take you back to Terra.” He had no other choice and dutifully followed the mousy man back to the transporter room. He hated the damn thing.

Multiple psychiatrists told him that the feeling of being violently ripped to shreds atom by atom and being reassembled back on Terra was, simply, all in his head. The process was nearly instantaneous. It would stand to reason there was no time to feel anything at all. As far as he knew, he was the only one who ever complained about this technological marvel. He had seen Star Trek and the way they depicted it was not far off the mark. But where they had some slow fade away, the real thing was much more refined. It happened in an instant. You were hundreds of thousands of miles out. He arrived back on Terra no less for wear. He needed to get to the hospital where the kid was convalescing.

Detroit Hospital.

I woke up. I was back in the hospital. I reflected on the warning of the Guardians, a threat, an assassin. Who would want me dead, and why? Just because I had a mission, should that make me a target? The Guardian said I needed to get out of the hospital as soon as possible. I had the feeling that going home might not be the right choice. I mean they, had to have my address listed here somewhere. Plus, Calvin’s parents’ house wasn’t that big a place, just two bedrooms and one bath on a tiny lot. The yard wasn’t big enough for a dog even. It was old and drafty, and it was nearly impossible to stay warm inside in the winter. It sorely needed a new roof and a fresh coat of paint. I could rent it out for about $375.00 per month, as it sits. I could self-finance it for $325.00 for twenty years. I will need to talk to Mr. Sawyer about setting up a real estate investment company. I might be able to buy a dozen or so homes in the area and rent them out and make a nice profit. Plus, it’s something I can do as a high school student. I might have to hire a couple of students to mow the yards and paint and do minor repairs. I will need a handyman for the plumbing and electrical needs. But I think it would be doable.

It finally dawned on me that I hadn’t had anyone come in yet. No nurses and no Eve, it was incredibly quiet, especially for a holiday. Wait, it was July 4, it’s my birthday. I am sixteen. I looked at the clock on the wall, 4:30 am. Well, that explained the quiet and the fact there was no one traipsing through my room. It was very odd. I never woke up early. Then a feeling of despair came over me. I had to get out of this room. Something was wrong. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt like I was in peril.

I got up.

Uncle Lucas had brought some clothes in anticipation of my going home soon. They were hung up in the closet, I removed the clothes off the hanger and carried them into the bathroom. They were a simple set of clothes: a pair of jeans, some clean underwear with no-name brands on them and the shirt, another Kmart purchase I am sure of it. Right now, that was not of importance. I am sure it would help. I would be more able to blend in with the neighborhood. After dressing in the bathroom, I turned out the light.

I searched the room for what personal items I might have. Then I remembered I was only sixteen. I didn’t even have a driver’s license. Why would I have a wallet or anything similar? I reached out into Calvin’s memories. He didn’t get to handle money all that often. He got a small allowance, three bucks a week. That was a generous allowance here and now. So, without further need to explore the room, I put on my shoes, grabbed the crutches by the side of the bed, and left the room. I quietly went toward the elevators. I had made it to the elevators without being discovered. The elevator doors opened, and there stood Nurse Dotson and Eve. I panicked and turned around. I saw the emergency stairwell to the right.

I opened the door, fearing an alarm of some kind, but none sounded, either they were silent, or non-existent. I was hoping on the latter and continued to descend the stairs to the ground floor. The doors at the bottom of the stairs opened just as I was getting there. It was Eve.

“What are you doing? Where are you going? And why are you out of your bed?” The questions came like a machine gun: one right after the other. She didn’t even pause to take a breath between them.

“I woke up early. It’s my birthday, and I wanted to go out for a breath of fresh air and an early morning walk. Normally I would be out jogging, but I don’t have the proper clothes for that, so I figured a quick walk around the block would do me some good.” For some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck were up on edge. And the warning for the Guardians came to mind. They did not know the identity of the assassin, so they could not tell me who he is. They said it could be anyone. I didn’t expect it to be Eve. From reading suspense novels, it’s the least expected character that’s the culprit, and what a better disguise than an attractive female who could be a potential love interest. She could easily get close enough to me to do the deed.

“Well, Nurse Bertha has reported you to the Duty Nurse, so they will be after you when you return. If you want to get out of here without getting caught, you should probably come with me.” I heard her say this, and I could only think of the Terminator phrase, ‘Come with me if you want to live.’ For a second, I acted as if I was going to go with her. But then the feeling of dread became even more foreboding, and I slipped past her and bolted for the front doors and exited the hospital.

Sunday mornings in Detroit are pretty quiet. Most of the people are still asleep at 5:00am. I came to the street and made a left on instinct alone. I was only about eight blocks from Calvin’s house (I guess I need to start thinking of it as my house.) In my prime, I could run the eight blocks in 4 or so minutes. Twelve blocks is a mile, and I could run a 6-minute mile. Six minutes and 27 seconds was my average back in high school the first time. I hadn’t run in some time in either timeline. But let’s get real for a minute. I came out here on crutches, and I have casts and bandages on my left side. I am not in any shape to even walk, let alone run.

I was afraid for a minute. I was being followed; I just knew it, or at least that’s how it made me feel. But when I stopped, I couldn’t see anyone nearby. As I stood there, I realized that probably this was a bad idea, I didn’t have any keys to the house, and trying to break in would be a problem in my condition. I decided to walk around a bit. I just needed to be out of the hospital for a while to get some fresh air, and I needed to think. I always thought better when jogging or exercising. I wasn’t dressed for jogging, but I could walk. Well, hobble more like, with the crutches. There is a park nearby, I could walk around it and rest on a seat if I needed to.

After walking around the park for about an hour, I sat on a park bench and calmed myself down. I focused on what I needed to accomplish and how I wanted to do that. I knew I needed to get back to the hospital. I suddenly realized I hated that stupid hospital.

No, hate isn’t the right word. The emotional undercurrent was more profound, darker, more visceral than that. I had to question myself, “Why? Nothing terrible had happened there. Even Nurse Dotson wasn’t intolerable. So why has this immense dark feeling come over me? It felt like the same feeling I had when I woke up and when I saw Eve and Nurse Dotson earlier in the elevator. This was not a coincidence. Could this be the Agents of Chaos that The Guardians warned me about? Were they capable of manipulating emotions or perceptions? Could they cloud your judgment from rational thinking? I didn’t know. But now that I was able to perceive this gut-level instinct, I could maybe use it as an early warning system of sorts.