Sleepwalker (48 page)

A figure loomed in the light. Bolts of lightning-like flashes danced in its assault. Then, the edges of the light receded, and the storm quieted. The noise died, the wind it made settled. Within, the figure grew more defined, a man it seemed, walking, then falling, crawling from the dying tempest. The strongest points of light flickered, but they too soon died down, leaving only a rising flow of steam, seeping tendrils of low-lying fog, and the figure who had tripped through from an alternate timeline.

Pam was the first to stand, Richard and Leonard at her side as she slowly approached the man, who began a fit of coughs.

Richard squinted, tried to see the man, but he was blanketed with fog.

Finally, Pam called out, “Hello?”

More coughing.

“Are you all right?” Richard asked.

More coughing...then, “I-I think so.”

There was a pause, and in this time Richard thought he’d recognized the voice. But he just couldn’t place it...until he spoke again:

“What the fuck happened?”

The boy stood up, reaffirming Richard’s instantaneous suspicion. Cletus. Earl. Sheriff Porter’s dimwitted son.

Richard was speechless. Pam was too. Leonard looked confused. He was about to speak when Pam and Richard both said at the same time, “I’ll explain later.”

Earl looked around the room, said, “Where the fuck am I...”, then looked over, eyes bulging at the sight of Pam and Richard and Leonard, clearly just as surprised to see them as they were him.

Richard and Pam walked over to him. The kid stood motionless, his cockiness long left behind in
Bledson
Hills. He looked like a baby gazelle surrounded by a pair of hungry lions, trembling and unsure of his next move. Pam asked, “How did you get here?”

Richard looked down. Near Earl’s feet was a similar unit to the one Pam had. He bent down and picked it up with two hands, its weight surprisingly heavier than he expected, perhaps thirty-five to forty pounds. It contained a few more bends and curves, and additional casings that substantiated the makeshift hack job of Pam’s unit. Pam and Leonard looked at the unit, their question answered. Of course they all wondered where he got it from, but from the crafty looks they gave one another, it was quickly presumed he’d found it wherever the man in black had hid it while hunting for Richard, somewhere near the place of his death, where he and Richard fought.

An unexpected gunshot blast deafened all those in the room, and immediately, chaos ensued.

Pam grabbed Earl and took him to the floor, her gun drawn but aimed haphazardly in the air. Leonard too had his gun out, but was unable to take decisive aim; he’d been shot in the shoulder, blood filling his shirt like a
seep
of motor oil on concrete. The cop staggered sideways, and then down into the cover of fog still sweeping the floor. That left only Richard, standing unarmed except for the time-trip unit still in his hands. Brutus appeared around the far side of the time-cylinder, eyes on the low-lying fog in search of his targets, and Richard could only assume that the man attempted to take Leonard out first simply because he was armed, and was now pursuing Pam. Richard knew his seconds were numbered, and that he, unarmed, would be next. Brutus spotted him. Simultaneously, Richard raised the time-trip unit and hurriedly threw it at Brutus. The goon turned, ducked, then stuck his arm out to fire his Smith & Wesson at Richard. From behind, Richard heard Pam screaming and all he could think about at that split moment was returning all the favors she’d paid him in the past twenty-four hours--saving his life, more than once--so he pitched forward, following the end-over-end path of the time-trip unit, sliding down to the floor and avoiding the shot meant for him, hurling his back into Brutus’s legs, and as he collided with the man who was twice his size, he could stop and think in this time that seemed to slow like a video running at half its normal speed, that he had committed himself to this brave yet stupid course of action, yet still, contrarily, even though the man in black was dead, he still maintained a bit of his memories, those of which were stuck somewhere in the subconscious part of his mind. So, he hoped, his efforts might not be in vain after all.

In the next few seconds, time seemed to slow even further, and even more happened.

A loud
ping
rang out, and then there was an explosion in the air above Richard, who slammed right through Brutus’s legs and tumbled onward, the big man taking the floor in an audible thud immediately after the explosion, and then Richard felt debris raining down on him, burning his skin, and realized that Brutus’s bullet had found the time unit he hurled and made smoldering trash of the miraculous invention, and the screams, the screams, Brutus, Pam, Leonard, Earl, each carrying its own distinct brand of fear and pain, Pam’s, shrilly, she leaping up, firing her weapon at Brutus; Brutus, howling, who’d taken a mighty spray of shrapnel in the face, the bullet from Pam’s gun adding to the bloody mess he’d suddenly become, a gaping hole torn in his throat and gushing like a tapped hydrant; Leonard, nearly crying, the pain from his gunshot wound excruciating as he stood and staggered toward the fray; and then Earl, sobbing, the tearful boy who’d stayed frozen in his footsteps, screaming out of pure fear--not unlike many times in the past while awaiting the wrath of his sheriff father.

Soon the noise dissipated, and silence ruled. The stink of fire hung heavily in the air. Brutus’s escaping blood met their assembling feet in a wide crimson flow. Pam went over to Brutus and examined him. Why not? In this world she’d also learned not to doubt any possibility. Even now. Despite the fact that half his throat was gone. She checked his pulse. Dead, thank God.

She and Earl immediately went to work, ripping his pants away and making a tourniquet for Leonard. Earl expertly bandaged his wound, tying the torn fabric around his chest to stop the bleeding.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Earl said. “You’ll need to get to a hospital though, otherwise
infection’ll
set in.”

“How is it you know so much about first aid?” Richard asked, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath.

“Daddy couldn’t put me to work with
no
experience. He made me take EMT classes, and I ended up kinda liking it.” He paused while tightening a strip of fabric around Leonard’s right arm. “I am good for something, you know.”

Richard grinned, wondering if this was the
real
Earl he knew, and not one from an alternate timeline.
This
timeline, perhaps. After all, anything was possible, right?

When Earl was done with Leonard, and the cop seemed to be all right for the moment, Pam grabbed Earl and asked, “Where did you get the unit?”

“I went snooping in the woods after the body was taken away. Figured I might stumble across something else the detectives didn’t find, maybe even some money. I found this machine-thing about a half mile away from the scene, hidden under a bush. I didn’t know what it was...actually, I still don’t. I figured if I pressed enough of the buttons something would happen. Little did I know.”

Pam looked perplexed. “I believe you Earl...I just find it amazing that you ended up here, right where we needed you. It’s just that...well, your timing was perfect. That’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Well, it wasn’t my first try. I played with the thing for hours before I got it to work, whatever the hell it did to me. First I ended up in a dark alley, then on someone’s front lawn, then in front of the police station in Fairview, and then here.”

“I think understand now,” Pam said. “It has a memory. When the man in black made it, he probably built a feature into it that had it record all the places he’d been to before. Earl here just started triggering all the locations in its memory. That’s my best guess, anyway.”

“Like bookmarks on a computer,” Richard said.

Pam grinned. “Right.”

Leonard grimaced. “What now, Pam?”

“We need to get all of you home.”

“Somebody want to tell me where the hell we are, and just what’s going on?” Earl’s arms were spread in question, face ruddy and
triangled
with perplexity.

Pam paced away towards one of the doors. Richard followed. She called out, “When you get home, look up Officer
Moldofsky
. He’ll be happy to fill you in. Won’t you, Leonard?”

Leonard nodded.

“Just give him a few days to heal and get his life back together.”

Richard stood next to Pam in front of the door marked “3”. She stared at it for a moment then said, “I’m afraid of what we’re going to find.”

“Is this your husband’s quarters?”

She nodded. Then, retrieving the key-card from her jeans, she slid it through the slot beside the door. A green light ignited, granting them access.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Richard asked.

She went inside. Richard followed.

And beneath the pallid glare of a single overhead lamp, they beheld the man who started it all. The scientist. The original Richard
Sparke
.

Putting aside the horrendous stench in the room,
frail
was the first word that entered Richard’s mind. But it was a fair description. One thing that had completely slipped Richard’s mind was that Richard the scientist would look exactly like him. After all, he
was
him. But despite having identical inborn features, that’s where the similarities ended. Disease had made a monster of the poor man before him, limbs withered away to mere sticks, the bones twisted into unfathomable shapes that made a mockery of the pain wracking his body. His torso was a backwards C-shape in his wheelchair, the left collarbone jutting through the withered skin like a boat’s mast at sea. His hair had been reduced to a few wispy strands, gray not from age but from fear. His shriveled skin had taken the appearance of a rotten apple, brown and spotted, poised to slough off at even the slightest touch.

Richard could only see portions of his twin’s face, thankful for the shadows camouflaging his features. Pam went over, grabbed his broomstick-thin wrist and felt for a pulse. The scientist’s head bobbed a bit, revealing his eyes. They were black like coals, sunken far into his head.

“Is he alive?” Richard asked, realizing now that his responsive concern was fruitless.

Pam shook her head. “He’s been dead for weeks. And I’m sorry to say that he died of starvation. Brutus stopped feeding him.”

Pam started to cry. Richard walked over and hugged her. Even here, he was instantly reminded of their lovemaking session just hours earlier; it seemed like a year ago. “It was the man in black that made him do it, you know that.”

Pam said nothing until her tears dried up. She looked at Richard, then one last time at her deceased husband. “Looks like you won’t have to kill him after all,” she said.

The only way he could gain complete control of his being was to kill off the four other Richards...

That was the plan...Richard would have had to kill the only remaining duplicate in order to gain control of his life. Well, not
his
life, but that of the family man, whose body was killed and taken away by the man in black. Samantha, his wife, still presumed her husband to be missing. Not dead. He’d take Julia his mother and his daughter Debra back through and replace the family man in his timeline, but using his own healthy body, something Richard the scientist could never do because of his degenerating health.

“Let’s get out of here,” Richard said. “The smell is making me sick.”

~ * ~

They searched a second room, which was empty. The third revealed two beds in which Julia and Debra
Sparke
lay motionless, eyes closed. Tears welled in Richard’s eyes, not because they might be dead, but because seeing them after all this time...his mother who’d been dead for three years, now
alive
, before him; his daughter, who in his world died of SIDS as an infant, now the four year-old girl with blonde curly hair that had haunted his dreams for so long. He took a step forward.

Then, beside their beds, on the floor, he noticed two plates. Scraps of food remained.

Debra stirred. She opened her eyes.

Looked at Richard.

“Daddy?” she murmured.

He ran over and hugged her, a million emotions racing through him. Julia awoke, staring at him with suspicion. Fear and uncertainty had her, and she remained quiet, at a distance.

Richard loosened his hug on Debra. The little girl turned around. “Look Grandma, Daddy’s back!”

Richard smiled. “Good to see you, Mom.”

~ * ~

A search of the remaining two rooms revealed pretty much what they expected. One was empty, the other held the body of Richard
Sparke
the family man. Pamela kept that grisly sight to herself, then shut the door and assembled everyone near the cylinder at the center of the room. Leonard and Earl had been keen enough to remove Brutus’s body from the room, placing it out in the hallway so Debra and Julia wouldn’t have to bear witness to any additional tragedy.

“Earl, you’ll go first,” Pam said. She punched up some keys on a computer built into the side of the cylinder. “We’re in luck. The man in black built into the master unit--he incorporated his own technology into it.”