NANOVISION: What Would You Do With X-ray Vision? (12 page)

Dashing outside
and leaping off the porch Daniel ran smack into Rudy, nearly knocking him over.
The old man dropped the sandwich he was eating and swore like a sailor. “What
the fuck! Hell kid, yah scared the shit outta me. What are you doing out here
and where are your shoes?”

Daniel stumbled
toward the voice. He was blind again−eyes totally white.

“Rudy! Rudy!” he
cried, pawing at the old man. “We’ve got to get outta here. There’s a guy in
the house with a gun. Didn’t yah hear the shots? He’s trying to kill me. June
Bug’s dead...”

Rudy stood there
like a stooge. “What?... Shots?...”

Daniel didn’t
have time to explain. He grabbed the old man and pulled him away, keeping his
eyes glued to where he thought the house was. “It’s the guy who killed my
father, Rudy. He’s here for me.”

The words were
barely out of his mouth when his vision returned. Only this time it was
different. This time his irises were shaped in perfect circles, both a golden orange
in hue with large black pupils, and with it Daniel’s night vision exploded, opening
up the entire night. With panic written across his face; he pulled Rudy along.

“Come on, Rudy!
There’s no time.”

Rudy was
flabbergasted and noted it. “Jesus, kid. What’s wrong with your eyes? You look
like a God-damn owl.”

Daniel tugged
unmercifully on Rudy’s arm. “There’s no time, Rudy. This guy will kill both of
us. We gotta get outta here−now!”

Accepting Daniel
at his word, Rudy stopped resisting and the two began to run for Rudy’s home.
They entered the side door to his garage.

Mickey lay on the
floor writhing in agony. Everything hurt like hell−his chest, his back,
and his wrist! If it wasn’t broken it was damn close. He struggled to get
up−he could hear yelling in the front of the house. It was the kid. With
rage driving him, he got up, and grabbed the gun that lay about four feet away.
He was forced to use his left hand as his right was badly swollen. Stumbling
out of the room he made his way down the stairs. Every step jostled him,
forcing him to suck in his breath and his right hand and wrist throbbed madly.
He swore he was gonna kill that little prick.

Making it to the
porch, Mickey saw a car, an old Cadillac, pulling away from the house next
door. He knew it had to be the old man and kid. He ran as best he could to his
car−he had to catch them.

Shaken to the
core, Rudy drove like a drunken madman. He wasn’t used to such pressure and he
was a nervous wreck. Swerving the wheel left and right he tore down the narrow
streets of Los Gatos, heading for what he hoped was safety. “We should’a called
the cops,” he stated, heatedly.

Daniel shook his
head. “There was no time. He had a gun. Wait a minute...” Daniel felt his
pockets.
Did he have his phone? No!
“Shit,” he muttered. All he had was
some tissue and his eyedrops. “Just great,” he mumbled.

He looked over to
Rudy wanting to say thanks, but got, instead, another surprise. Rudy was no
longer driving the car. Instead there was a frightful looking creature sitting
there − a half skeleton with exposed blood red muscle and tendons. The
creature’s eyes were moving all about, bulging out of their sockets. It looked
like a Halloween mask meant to scare children. Daniel cringed when the creature
waved a bony finger in his direction.

Rudy looked at
Daniel. “What’s the matter, kid? You’re white as a ghost.”

Daniel could take
no more. “Stop! Stop the car! Stop the car.” he cried. “I’m going to be sick,
really sick.”

Rudy pulled off
the side of road and watched as Daniel hit the door. The boy stumbled out into
the cold night air and ran toward a grass lawn where he threw up and fell to
the ground. He lay there not moving and Rudy became worried. Getting out of the
car, he ran toward Daniel. The boy was unconscious. Rolling him over, Rudy
slapped him on the face.

“Come on, kid...
we don’t have time for this shit.”

Daniel resisted,
but Rudy wouldn’t let it go. He slapped him again. “Come on, come on. I think I
hear a car coming.”

The blows brought
Daniel around. “Okay, okay,” he acknowledged, rising from the grass. He used
Rudy for support as they made their way back to the car. “God, what is wrong
with me?” he asked.

For the next
twenty-six miles Daniel and Rudy sat in relative silence. They decided the best
course of action was to get to some place safe, then call the cops, and Santa
Cruz seemed as good a place as any. Besides, Rudy knew the area.

As the car headed
down state route 17 Daniel studied the terrain. The hills running alongside the
roadway were dark and wooded, hiding secrets deep within their bowels, but not
to Daniel. His eyes were seeing something entirely new and different, and it
was only through the reflection of the car window that he noticed the cat-like
appearance of his eyes. Beyond that, out into the dark abyss he saw much, much
more − trees, grass, flowers and animals that were almost luminescent in
appearance. To him the night was no longer obscure.

Chapter 7

Rudy pulled up to
the Palomar Inn in Santa Cruz and parked in the space reserved for hotel check
in. He glanced over at Daniel. The kid was out again, sweat beading up on his
forehead−his fever was back. Rudy let him sleep and went in to register,
getting them both a room on the fourth floor with two double beds. He had to
bribe the bellhop twenty-bucks to help him lug Daniel to the room along with
the promise of another twenty if the kid threw up. He told the bellhop that it
was his grandson’s twenty-first birthday and he had been out partying with
friends, gotten drunk and lost his shoes God knows where. The lie worked.

When they arrived
at the room Rudy and the bellhop put Daniel on one of the beds, and the bellhop
left with his best tip of the night. Rudy glanced at his watch. It was almost
eleven and he was hungry. He scrawled out a note letting Daniel know he’d gone
for food. A half hour later Daniel woke up.

For a millisecond
Daniel thought he was blind again−all he saw was white, but instantly his
vision burst forth filling his head with color and dimension. Granted it was a
cheap hotel room, but it was sight and Daniel was beside himself with joy. After
giggling like a silly school boy looking at everything in the room he spied the
note from Rudy. He read it then felt the urge to pee. He went to the bathroom
to relieve himself when he caught sight of himself in the mirror−
so
that’s what he looked like
. He stared into the mirror with utter
fascination.

The face that
looked back at him was older, more mature, with dark stubble popping out
everywhere.
He could finally grow a beard!
He smiled, noting the white
straight teeth that filled his mouth. Aunt Ethyl had seen to that. And his
eyes−well they were unlike anything he’d ever seen before, a rich
blue-green in color. Had they always been that color? Mentally he tried to
picture himself at sixteen. He couldn’t remember−but weren’t they brown?
Unexpectedly the color of his eyes changed, becoming a deep dark brown. “Holy
Shit,” he swore aloud.
What just happened?

Focusing his view
on the mirror, Daniel placed his face inches from its surface.
Blue,
he
thought
.
Almost instantly he could see the color change. It was like
watching the pixels on a cheap TV screen, the colors rippling from one color to
the next.
Green,
he visualized. Again his eyes changed, becoming sea
green.
Darker−
he commanded. The color of his eyes deepened now
showing off a dark olive hue.

There was a
noise. The splat of a water drop hitting the tile floor behind him. Daniel
turned, his eyes focusing in on the shower head. It was leaking. Without so
much as a thought his sight zeroed in on the next drip. It loomed in front of
him like a huge watery bubble. It was as if his eyes were a giant magnifying
glass and he watched in amazement as the next drop fell to the tile, shattering
into a million glass-like fragments. In the bathroom’s corner he noticed a tiny
water bug inching its way along the baseboard. Instantly, it was a gigantic
cockroach-thing with feelers and multiple eyes searching for food. He could see
its every detail in perfect form from ten feet away.
Holy crap, Aunt Ethyl.
What have you done?

Daniel began to
strip down, checking out every inch of his body. It all seemed normal and he
didn’t even have to bend his legs or knees to check out his toenails. It was
phenomenal. He climbed into the shower and washed, humming to himself as the
hot water cascaded down over his body; the soap on his skin lathering into a
rich mixture of white clouds and bubbly iridescent rainbows. It was weird
seeing things like this. Midway through the shower he realized how bad an
influence his Aunt had become. He was humming one of those cheesy songs from
the seventies,
I can see clearly now the rain is gone
...

Feeling
rejuvenated, Daniel left the bathroom and reread the note from Rudy. The note
had eleven PM scrawled on it−it was now 12:08. Rudy been gone over an
hour and Daniel was uncertain when he would return−hopefully soon. His
thoughts returned to Aunt Ethyl and Katie and of course Mickey.
Should he go
ahead and call the cops? What would he say?
He then realized that the best
option would be to call Dr. Curry. He had Judy Salinski’s number and he could
call her and let her know what had happened.
She would know what to do
.
He picked up the phone and started to dial.

The voice that
answered at Dr. Curry’s office was his secretary−well, actually her voice
on the answering machine. He knew the message by heart: “You have reached the
office of Doctor Joseph Curry. Our office is now closed. If this is an
emergency please hang up and call 911. If not, please leave your name and
number and we will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you”.

The tone finally
beeped and Daniel began to speak. 

“Dr. Curry, this
is Daniel Lewis. I’m calling to tell you that I remember everything... the man
who killed my father... what happened back in Vegas − everything. His
name is Mickey, ‘the spoon’ and he’s here in Santa Clara. I saw him earlier
tonight. Can you call Judy Salinski and let her know. I don’t know who else to
call. I’m staying at the Palomar Hotel in Santa Cruz, room−”

BEEP! The end of
the recording cut Daniel off.

“Shit!” swore
Daniel. He jammed his finger on the receiver and started to redial, but was
interrupted by the sound of a key being pushed into a lock. Turning around he
saw Rudy opening the door, his hands full of sundries and fast food.

“Hey, kid...
gimmie a hand,” the old man barked. He was out of breath and a bit short in
temper, wrangling with the room key and the various bags in his hands.

Daniel
immediately dropped the phone and went to help. “I was wondering when you’d get
back,” he said, as he helped Rudy put the stuff on the bed.

“Yeah, me too,”
the old man noted. “You hungry?” 

“Yeah, starved,”
Daniel replied.

*    *    *    *

The interior
office of Dr. Joseph Curry was dark, lit only by the thin, pale moonlight that
passed through the vertical blinds. It was late, nearly midnight with no one on
the streets of Santa Clara and the main reason Mickey had returned. Here in the
doctor’s office he had a quiet sanctuary where he could roll things over in his
mind.
What the fuck was he going to do now? The kid had gotten away
.
Benny
would have his ass for sure.

He took another
drag on his cigarette, the red tip flaring up, illuminating his sweaty face. He
was screwed. Flummoxed, Mickey drummed his fingers on the desktop pondering his
next move. It was then that the phone rang, causing him to jump. He cursed.
Who
the fuck would be calling at this hour?
He looked over to the answering
machine situated next to the desk and watched as the lights atop its surface blinked
in response to the incoming call. The recorded greeting was
nondescript−the usual answering machine blather. Mickey crushed his
cigarette out on the desktop and leaned back in the chair, waiting to see who
had the balls to call at this hour. When the answer came he nearly fell out of
the chair and his heart raced as Daniel’s tinny voice cut the darkness.

Mickey couldn’t
believe it. The kid was actually calling and telling where he was.
Unfucking
believable!
Instantly on his feet, Mickey scrambled for a pen, scribbling
everything he heard onto the large calendar notepad that covered the desktop.
His hands shook with excitement
. This was just too fucking good to be true!
It was then that the machine beeped, cutting off the boy’s voice. “Fock,” swore
Mickey in exasperation. He didn’t have the room number. For the next twenty
minutes Mickey sat waiting. He stared at the machine hoping against hope that
the kid would call back, but nothing came. After thirty minutes he gave up. It
was now a quarter to one and he had to get to Santa Cruz and find the Palomar
Hotel. Somehow, someway he would get the room number he needed. It wasn’t too
late to kill the kid!

*    *    *    *

Rudy and Daniel
sat on their respective beds eating hamburgers and fries, washing them down
with cokes. Both were exhausted.

“Ya had enough to
eat?” asked Rudy, as he crumpled up the wax paper from his burger. He stuffed
it into one of the paper sacks.

“Yeah,” answered
Daniel, food still in his mouth. He washed it down with a sip of coke. “More
than enough. Thanks.”

The old man
nodded, then added. “I stopped by Walmart while I was out. Got you a pair of
shoes... size twelve okay?”

“I guess,” Daniel
responded. “Thanks.”

“And some new
sunglasses... though I’m not sure you need’em anymore.”

He studied
Daniel’s face for a moment and Daniel could see that there was something on his
mind. “Look kid,” he began. “I don’t wanna pry, but maybe you could tell me
what’s going on here? And what’s up with your eyes all of a sudden?”

Daniel shrugged. “There’s
not much to tell, really. Aunt Ethyl gave me some shots and they seem to have
brought back my vision.”

Rudy shook his
head. “Damnest thing I’ve ever seen.” Unexpectedly he burped. “Christ!” he
exclaimed, “Not again.” He rubbed his chest to relieve the pressure.

“You okay?” asked
Daniel, in concern.

The old man
nodded. “Yeah, I guess I ate too fast. My chest feels tight−and gassy.
The ole stomach’s not what it used to be. I guess I should’a got some tums
while I was out.”

“Maybe they’ve
got some at the front desk?” said Daniel.

“Naw, I’ll be all
right,” answered Rudy. “I just need to get some sleep. Here...” He removed the
large white plastic bag that was lying next to his pillow and tossed it to
Daniel. “... your shoes.”

Daniel snatched
the bag and looked inside while Rudy began to undress. Stripping down to his
drawers and t-shirt, the old man draped his clothes over a chair and climbed
into bed. “I also called the police while I was out,” he told Daniel as he
pulled out his hearing aid. He set it on the night stand. “That’s what took me
so long. I told ‘em I heard gunshots at your house. They said they’d send some
people to check it out.”

The look on
Daniel’s face was pensive. “I wonder how Aunt Ethyl and Katie are doing?”

“Not to worry,
son,” confided Rudy, yawning wide. “They were both outta harm’s way when that
guy showed up − thank goodness. Don’t worry we’ll see ‘em tomorrow
− and we’ll have ‘em out by Tuesday for sure.” The old man rolled over
and went to sleep.

*    *    *    *

It was half-past
two when Mickey entered the lobby of the Palomar hotel. The place was empty
with one lone desk clerk standing behind the registration desk. He looked up as
Mickey approached. “Yes, Sir, may I help you?”

Mickey nodded his
head and smiled. “Aye maybe yah ken. Aye’m lookin’ for a friend who may ‘ave
checked in earlier this evening − ‘is name is Daniel Lewis.”

“I’ll be happy to
check, Sir,” responded the clerk, pecking away at his computer. “Mmmm, no, I’m
afraid I’m not seeing anyone by that name.”

“Can yah teel me
then, ‘ave yah ‘ad anyone check in tonight, say aroound nine or ten. Mebbe a
kid aboot twenty-one with another person—an old guy.”

The clerk
shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sir. I can’t say. I didn’t come on ‘til midnight and I
have no idea who’s checked in this evening. I do know there was a wedding next
door and we picked up some of the overflow.”

Mickey was at a
loss. Should he try and bribe this guy or just kill him? He had to find the kid
before it was too late. He was about to reach into his pocket when he saw the
clerk looking at something behind him. He heard a car door and
footsteps−someone was coming−he turned.
Christ, it was a couple
of cops.

The clerk
acknowledged them with a boisterous welcome. “Jack... Roger... How yah doin’?
Fresh coffee in the back... You guys want some?”

“Sure,” answered
one of the cops.

Mickey cursed
under his breath. His window of opportunity was gone. “Thanks for all yur
‘elp,” he said to the clerk. “Aye’ll check down the street.”

*   *   *   *

It was early the
next morning when Daniel awoke. The room was dark and he was disoriented.
Where
the hell was he?
Reality quickly smacked him in the face. He was in an old
hotel room with Rudy after barely escaping Mickey, ‘the Spoon’. The thought of
seeing the madman again sent a shiver up his spine and he bolted up from the
bed in a panic. He relaxed when he saw Rudy still sound asleep in the other
bed−everything was okay.

Glancing at the
night table, Daniel read the clock−it was 7:05, and he felt his stomach
growl. He was hungry. After a quick stretch, Daniel hopped up and went to the
bathroom, after which he opened the drapes and began to dress. He called to
Rudy. “Hey Rudy, it’s after seven. Come on, let’s get going. I want to see Aunt
Ethyl and Katie.”