Chapter 11: A Blast from the Past

When I awoke Monday morning, the smell of coffee got me moving. I did my usual morning thing and headed for the kitchen when I was dressed. Cassie had prepared some French toast and I smiled. She could seduce a gargoyle with her food.

"Denis left early this morning. Did he tell you?"

"Yeah. He said he was going to Montreal and would be back Wednesday. I was thinking about going back to Vancouver this week."

"Oh ... don't Colin. Stay here for a few days. Just let things in your life cool down for a while. You need that."

"I won't argue with you, Cassie. This past week has been awful. I keep wondering when it's all going to end. Is there still someone out there looking for me? The River Riders? The police? I don't even know who I am any more. Am I Colin, or am I Nathan? What kind of a life does that lead to?"

"Colin ... you need some time to recover. A period of adjustment. You can't just go on with your life when so much ugliness has happened to you. Denis says you have all the money you'll even need for the rest of your life. Use it! Go to Egypt ... or the North Pole ... or ... I don't know ... anywhere. Get way from all this. Find yourself! Make a new life for yourself. Please!"

I walked to Cassie and embraced her. She was a true friend and she really wanted to help. Perhaps she was right. I needed to escape. Get away. Go somewhere where no one knew me. Find a reason to go on from here.

"Cassie ... I think you're right. I do need to get away. It's a matter of where."

"Do you think you might be happy on some south sea island?"

"No ... I don't think so. Australia or New Zealand possibly. Tahiti? I guess there's lots of possibilities. Maybe I'll visit a travel agency and see what they have."

"Whatever you decide, Colin, take care. I want you back here as the old Colin that we knew years ago. Go find yourself. Take away the pain and ugliness of the past years and find yourself again."

Cassie kissed me warmly and emotionally as she ended her plea. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to get my feet under me again. I had been living on anger, adrenalin, and fear since the day I was released. I needed a purge, and getting away from everything to a pleasant place made sense. But first, I had one more obligation.

Shortly before ten am, I called Harold on his direct line. I explained what my plan was and why. He readily agreed. He wanted me fresh and free of ghosts as well. I also told him of Kayla: her background, training, and my brief assessment of her capabilities and potential at Orca. He welcomed the opportunity to meet her and discuss a position.

I phone Kayla on her cell.

"Good morning, Nathan." she answered brightly.

Surprised she knew it was me, it took a second to realize she had loaded my number into her cell and had caller ID.

"Hi ... good morning. How is your day going so far?"

"Oh ... same old, same old," she replied with what sounded like a sigh.

"Well then, I'll give you something to think about. Harold would like to interview you, just as I suspected he would. I'm going to give you his direct line phone number and he'll be expecting your call."

"Oh, Nathan, that's great. Thank you so much. I've been thinking a lot about a new start ... or at least ... another new start," she laughed.

"Glad to be of assistance," I said, pausing for a moment. "Kayla ... I'm going to take some time to get myself together. Too much has happened and I'm afraid I'm not very stable right now. I wanted you to know ... I'm still interested in seeing you. But I'd rather you got to know the real me ... not the oxygen burner I am right now. I think Cassie can explain it to you better than I can. I hope you understand." I finished on a hopeful note.

"Of course, Nathan. I understand perfectly."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, but knowing me and my restless feet, it won't be too long."

"Get well, Nathan. I'll be here when you get back." I couldn't help but hear the serious tone in her voice.

Cassie and I drove out toward the Scarborough Bluffs. It was a cloudy and much cooler day than Sunday. We stopped at a restaurant and had a very nice light lunch before driving to a nearby shopping center and a branch of a national travel agent.

An hour later and loaded down with brochures, we walked across the parking lot toward her car. I was conscious of a loud truck engine nearby and turned to look at the unwelcome noise. It was a big, late-model pickup, jacked up a few inches and sporting oversize tires and a very heavy looking set of bars on the front. A macho rig, was my first thought. Someone trying to prove to himself he was a real man.

I tried to ignore it, but the sound was getting louder and I turned back to the source again. I couldn't see through the tinted windshield, but I got the impression he was headed my way. I took Cassie's arm and moved her off to the side as the truck rolled towards us. I took a quick look around and saw only one safe route between some parked cars. I hurriedly pulled Cassie toward it.

As I did so I heard the revs go up on the truck, and a quick look confirmed that it had picked up speed and was heading right at us. I no longer thought this was some show-off trying to impress us. This had the smell of a hunt, and I had to assume I was the hunted.

"Cassie, I want you to run to your car and get into it and stay there. Call 911 and report what's going on. Go!"

Cassie had been around Denis long enough to know that I wasn't overreacting or trying to be theatrical. With a worried look, she moved rapidly toward her car. The truck didn't turn toward her. It was after me. Now, I was going to have to find a way to avoid being crushed or run down by three tons of black sheet-metal and steel.

I was unarmed. I had only one thing going for me. I could move faster and turn more sharply than the truck. I was safer out in the open than I was trying to use other cars for protection. The truck could easily ram them and crush me in the same process. Of course, that assumed that the driver was alone and didn't have a gun. I didn't like betting against unknown odds.

I'm not sure how my brain picked up on it, but I noticed Quebec plates on the truck. Useless information? Probably. It's amazing how many thoughts can rip through your mind when you are trying to figure out how to stay alive. I was hoping for a stalemate until the police arrived, but first I had to avoid getting run over.

The truck made a straight ahead run at me and I held my breath, waiting until the last second before I ran diagonally toward the left side. My action was too quick for the driver to correct and he missed me by several feet. I got a quick glimpse of him as he roared past. The side windows were down and the man's face was turned toward me. A look of disgust? Too little time to evaluate that.

I moved around toward his turn, making it almost impossible for him to turn into me. He jammed on his brakes and put the truck in reverse, moved back a few feet, then charged at me once more. I was betting that he would expect me to make the same move again, so I moved the opposite way this time. He tried to correct his mistaken guess and snapped the truck around in my direction.

I'm sure he was confident in the invincibility of his machine, but almost every device has its weakness. As he gunned the motor in a futile effort to move in an ever tightening circle, the inside front wheel hit the concrete curb at the end of the sidewalk. It was like watching something in slow motion. The truck bounced once, both passenger side wheels slowly rising into the air as it rolled, first onto its side, then the roof, and finally slamming down on the passenger side.