Flash : Out Of The Blue

Flash 01: Out Of The Blue

 

The following was inspired by an email from a reader. I have been working on this for a while now, having started over from scratch several times.

Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories, and many thanks to those who have inquired about my well-being. I know it’s been a little while since I have submitted a story here, and I apologize for that. Sometimes, life happens and it’s been a bit hectic in the Saddletramp universe lately. But not to worry, there’s plenty more craziness in the works…

For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper…

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama…

…

I opened my eyes and tried to take in my surroundings. When my vision cleared, I could tell I was in a hospital bed and could see wires and tubes attached to my body. A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around one arm. Much of my body, including my head, was covered in bandages.

I saw a fairly attractive blonde nurse at the station next to my bed. She looked down at me when she finished typing on her keyboard and saw I was awake.

“Mr. Drake, can you hear me?” she asked. I tried to talk but couldn’t since there was something in my throat. So I simply nodded my head. “Hang on, I’ll go get the doctor.”

Right, I thought as I watched her sway to the door. Like I’m actually going to go anywhere. I heard her call out.

“Dr. Simpson! Mr. Drake is waking up,” she said. That’s me, by the way — Cameron Drake. “Cam” to my friends and family, including the treacherous slut, Ginger, my soon-to-be ex-wife. An older man in medical garb appeared at the door and looked at me before coming in.

“Ah, Mr. Drake, good to see you back with us,” he said with a smile. “Don’t try to talk, there’s a tube in your throat. I’m Dr. Simpson, and I’ve been assigned to your case. Relax for a moment, okay? I’m just going to examine you for a bit, then we’ll see about getting that tube out of you.” He looked me over for a while and consulted my chart.

Then he unwrapped some of the bandages and examined the skin underneath. He smiled as he nodded his head.

“You seem to be recovering faster than I would have expected,” he said. “Let’s go ahead and get that tube out of your throat.” He and the nurse worked for a while and pulled the long tube out of me. I was surprised when I saw how long the thing was. They also removed the catheter and the feeding tube. I felt tremendous relief when they were out and I tried to talk, but my mouth and throat were very dry.

The nurse, whose name tag read, “Lucy,” gave me an ice chip to suck on and I eagerly accepted it. When it had melted I looked at her and she gave me another with a smile. Eventually, my throat had sufficiently moistened to the point that I could actually speak.

“How long?” I asked. “What happened?” Dr. Simpson took a seat next to my bed and consulted his chart before speaking.

“You’re currently at Mercy General Hospital, Mr. Drake,” he said. “You’ve been with us for the last four days.”

“Four days?” I asked, shocked.

“Yes,” he said. “According to witnesses, you were struck by some kind of lightning. Strange thing, though, since there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You were unconscious when the paramedics brought you in. You had severe burns over most of your body. We weren’t sure you were going to make it. Frankly, I’d say your recovery to this point has far exceeded our expectations. If I were a religious man, I’d say it was almost miraculous.”

“Does my wife know?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “She came by once, stayed for a few minutes. Just long enough for me to tell her your condition.” Of course, I thought to myself. “She hasn’t been back. But you’ve had lots of other visitors — friends, co-workers, parents.”

“How long will I be here?” I asked.

“That depends on you,” he said. “If your recovery continues as it has been, I’d say a day, maybe two.” I nodded my head. “Are you up for a real meal?”

“Yes,” I told him.

“Alright, I’ll have Lucy get you a menu and you can order something. In the meantime, relax and just take it easy. After you’ve had something to eat, Lucy will take you for a walk if you’re up to it. Any questions?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. He turned to Lucy before speaking.

“Why don’t you change his dressings and get him a menu,” he said, standing up. “I’ll check in on you later today, Mr. Drake,” he said before he left.

“I’ll be back in about 15 or 20 minutes,” Lucy said. I nodded my head and watched her leave. While she was gone, my thoughts turned to my life and the state of my five-year marriage to Ginger.

Let me start by saying that I’m basically your average “Joe.” I graduated from high school and went straight to college. I never played sports in school, never took martial arts and never spent a day in uniform. I’m one of those guys you can look at but not really see, if you know what I mean.

I met Ginger in college. I won’t bore you with all the details of our courtship. We dated for a couple years, fell in love, then got married after we graduated. She got her business degree and went to work for a large financial services firm in town.

I got my degree in information technology — read, computers and networks — and went to work for Apex Tech Solutions, a large IT firm headquartered in my hometown. I started as a field service engineer and worked my way up the ladder. I now supervise other techs and oversee installations and upgrades. The money is good and the benefits are fantastic.

Ginger and I held off on having children, and I’m now glad we did. We currently live in a nice two-bedroom condo, and had talked about buying a larger place so we could start our family. That’s about as far as it went, though.

I may be just your average guy, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Over the last few months, I’ve noticed some changes in Ginger. She’s been spending more time at work, plus going out with “the girls” two or even three times a week, not getting home until midnight or later, reeking of booze, cigarette smoke and sometimes other things I didn’t even want to contemplate at the time.

We normally have sex four or five times a week, but lately, that’s dropped off. It seems she’s been having a lot of “headaches” these days. And her attitude has changed a bit. She used to be bubbly, fun and playful, but lately, she’s been more than just a bit short-tempered and snippy with me.

On top of that, she’s been starting arguments over practically nothing. The end result is no sex. At least for me. Now, we’re little more than room mates, and not even close ones at that.

I began to wonder if she was having an affair. I thought about confronting her, but the way she’s been lately, I knew it would cause the mother of all fights. So I started watching her as close as I could. I knew I would need proof if I was to confront her, so I considered hiring a private investigator.

That was when I found out how much it would cost me. Sure, Ginger and I made fairly decent money, but you could have knocked me over with a feather when I learned how much a PI would cost. There was no way I could absorb that kind of money.

A co-worker suggested I use an audio recorder to get evidence. He had one he used when he caught his wife cheating on him, so he let me use it. It looks and functions just like a regular ball-point pen, but includes a sound-activated audio recorder. Just charge it up and put it in her purse, he told me. Then hook it up to a USB port and download the audio, Sounds simple, right?

It seemed simple, at least in theory, but Ginger’s purse is something of a black hole. It seems she has a bad habit of cramming stuff in it, and whatever is there ends up getting lost somewhere in the bottom. That’s what happened to the audio recorder.

When I retrieved it from her purse, I found it in the bottom, covered with a bunch of paper and tissue she had crammed in the bag. I could only hope there was nothing communicable on the tissues when I reached inside.

I plugged the recorder into a USB port and listened. There was a lot of background noise, but any actual communication was muffled so bad I couldn’t understand what was being said or by whom. I charged the pen back up and placed it in her purse, hoping I could hear something the next time I listened.

But that didn’t happen. I downloaded the audio every day, but got the same result. I could hear a lot of background noise, and I could tell when she was at a club with “the girls,” but was unable to understand anything that was being said. After two weeks of this, I decided to bite the bullet and hire a PI. But I never got a chance to actually do it.

The next day I was at the intersection of Third and Main Streets in a company truck — a Ford F250 4X4. I looked next to me and saw an extremely sporty car. I didn’t what it was, but it looked foreign and very expensive. It had an open sunroof and I could see right into the car.

Sitting in the passenger seat was Ginger, her short dress hiked up to her waist, exposing her shaved pussy to whomever might want to look. In the driver’s seat was a man I vaguely recognized as someone she worked with, his hand working furiously on her smooth mound.

They didn’t see me, since I had the window up and it was tinted. Besides, she was far too engrossed in what he was doing to care who was next to her. I pulled out my cell phone and grabbed some video before the light turned green. The car sped off and turned left at the next intersection. I continued to my job site, knowing that our marriage was over.

When I got to the client’s building, I called Ginger’s office and spoke to Carla, the receptionist.

“I’m sorry, Cam, but she took some comp time this afternoon,” Carla said. “Said she had some errands to run this afternoon.”

“Okay, thanks, Carla,” I said. “Could you please leave a note and tell her I called?”

“Sure, Cam,” she said. I thanked her and ended the call. I tried calling Ginger’s cell phone, but the call went straight to voicemail. I pulled up my browser and searched for divorce lawyers. I found one and called, making an appointment for the next afternoon. I had plenty of comp time coming, so I made a note to take the afternoon off.

I completed my work at the site and went back to the office, where I told Ryan, my supervisor, what was going on. He had been through a divorce himself, so he gave me the comp time I needed. I grabbed my keys, jumped in my truck and headed home.

Ginger came in about 6:30 and headed to the bedroom with little more than a wave of her hand. I noticed she was wearing a different dress than the one I saw her in earlier. I went into the bedroom and saw that she was changing into one of her club dresses.

“Going out again tonight?” I asked.

“Yeah, just a few of us girls blowing off some steam,” she said. I’m sure that wasn’t all she would be blowing.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Pretty boring. Stuck in the office all day. You know how it is,” she said. I couldn’t believe the bitch just lied to me.

“Uh huh. I tried calling you earlier.” She stopped for a moment and gave me a deer-in-the-headlights look. Busted! “Carla told me you took the afternoon off. Where were you?”

“I had a few errands to run,” she said, recovering. “I didn’t think I needed to consult you.”

“So you weren’t stuck in the office all day?”

“Alright, you caught me. I was out doing some shopping, okay? Mom’s birthday is coming up and I was looking for a present,” she said, irritation in her voice. Another lie. I knew her mother’s birthday wasn’t for another five months. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish getting ready. The girls are expecting me.”

“You plan to be home at a decent hour?”

“I’ll be home when I get home. Assuming I decide to come home at all,” she said in a snippy tone of voice. “Who knows, I just might meet a guy and spend the night getting my brains fucked out,” she added sarcastically.

“Well, if you do, don’t bother coming back,” I told her. “Just send me a text so I’ll know where to have you served with divorce papers. I’ll have your crap out in the front yard.” That seemed to get her attention. She looked at me, her face red. After a few moments, she cooled off and tried to smooth-talk her way back into my good graces.

“I’m sorry, Cam, I shouldn’t have said that,” she told me. “I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately. I’ll be home at a decent hour, promise. Now, no more talk about divorce, okay?” I said nothing, but nodded my head. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Maybe this weekend we can go out and do something special, just the two of us. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, it would,” I said. “It’s been a while since we’ve had any fun together. I was beginning to think you were getting ready to trade me in for a newer, richer model.”

“I would never do that,” she said. “You mean too much to me. Besides, I’m just getting you broken in good.” I chuckled at that, but still, I was seething inside after what I saw earlier. She finished dressing and headed out, giving me a kiss on the lips.

“Be careful out there,” I told her.

“I will,” she said. To my surprise, she did get home at a fairly decent hour. It was 10:15 when she came in the front door, about two hours earlier than normal. She gave me a hug and a kiss, and I could smell the cigarette smoke and the alcohol on her breath, but nothing else. Not even a hint of cologne. Maybe it was a boring night after all.

She showered, knowing how much I hate the smell of cigarettes, and came to bed. Naked, for a change. She spread her legs and ran a finger through her shaved slit while looking at me with lust in her eyes. I wasn’t one to turn down sex with my wife, especially since it had been a while since we had done anything, but I wasn’t stupid. Besides, after tonight, I didn’t know if we would ever have sex again.

I undressed, my average-sized cock at full mast, and got between her legs. I kissed the inside of her thighs while checking out her wet pussy. I didn’t see or smell anything that suggested she had been with another man, so I decided to take the plunge. Like I said, I may be “average,” but I’m not stupid.

After giving her two orgasms with my tongue, I kissed my way up her body. I had always enjoyed tasting her soft, smooth skin and I wanted to give her a memorable experience. I suckled on her C-cup breasts, flicking her nipples with my tongue. That always got a positive reaction from her and tonight was no exception.

I finally kissed my way up her neck and was looking at her, face to face, my cock poised to penetrate her. She looked up at me with lust in her eyes.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. “Please. No more teasing.” I smiled as I worked my cock inside her and began fucking her, slowly at first. She was just as tight and wet as normal, so I continued as she moaned. I felt my own climax begin, so I picked up the pace, determined to give her the fucking of her life.

“Ahh, ahh, ahh,” she moaned with each thrust. My pace quickened as I worked to fuck her through the mattress. Finally, I exploded inside her, and she screamed out as her orgasm hit. I felt her pussy clench around my cock as I shot my seed into her. After we calmed down, I laid in the bed next to her. She turned to me and put an arm over my chest.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” she told me quietly. “It was mean, cruel and uncalled for. Can you forgive me?” Her tone of voice indicated she was serious, but I still had a hard time reconciling her lies and her actions in her co-worker’s car.

“I can,” I told her.

“You do know I love you, right?” she asked.

“So you say. But I’ve begun to wonder about that lately,” I said. Her eyes fell for a moment, but then she looked back up at me.

“I do love you,” she said. “I know I’ve been a real bitch to you lately, and I’m sorry. Things have been real stressful at work.”

“I understand that, but I wish you would’ve talked to me,” I said. “I was beginning to think you’d maybe found someone else and was getting ready to trade up.”

“No, of course not,” she said. “And you’re right, I should’ve talked to you. You do still love me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I said. “If I didn’t, I would’ve been gone a long time ago. Tell me, honestly, have you ever cheated on me?” She looked at me, shocked.

“No, never,” she said.

“I hope not, because that’s the one thing I won’t stand for. Have you ever let another man touch you where he shouldn’t?”

“I’ve danced with a few guys on the nights I go out with the girls, but that’s it,” she said. I couldn’t believe she just lied to my face — again. I thought about confronting her with the pictures on my phone, but decided not to, at least for now.

“I know. I’ve smelled their cologne on you when you got back,” I said.

“Sorry,” she said. “I sometimes forget how sensitive your nose is.”

“That’s alright,” I said. I kissed her on the forehead and thought for a moment. I realized it wouldn’t do any good to press further — she would probably just lie to me. “Why don’t we get some sleep,” I told her. “I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she said. “I love you. Don’t ever forget that.”

“And I love you too,” I said, keeping my anger in check. The next day I got hit with even more bad news.

“Basically, you’re screwed no matter what you do,” Drew Henson, the lawyer I had taken off work to see, told me. “This happens to be a no-fault state and the law precludes any mention of adultery.”

“But what if I have proof?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter. She could screw the entire Third Marine Division on live television and the court would simply ignore it. The bottom line is that you would lose half of everything — all your assets, retirement, savings, everything, would be split in two and she would get it. On top of that, she would get your condo while you get to keep making payments and you would get hit with paying alimony for at least the next two years, unless she remarries. The only thing in your favor is the fact that you have no children, so there’s no child support,” he said.

“What if I just leave?” I asked.

“After a year, she could file for divorce, say you abandoned her, and you’d still lose half of everything. Possibly more, since you left her,” he explained.

“So, I’m royally screwed, aren’t I?”

“Pretty much. That’s why they say divorce is the screwing you get for the screwing you got,” he added with a smile.

“Trying to be a comedian or something?” I asked. He chuckled at that. “So, what do I do?”

“You could just put up with it, at least for now,” he said.

“You mean, be a willing cuckold?” I asked, shocked. “No way. I refuse to do that. I’d rather just leave her and take my chances.”

“There is one alternative,” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“We could put together a post-nuptial agreement that spells out what happens if one spouse cheats. If she agrees to it, then you’ll have something you can use in case she strays again. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

“I suppose it’s better than nothing,” I said. “Go ahead and start putting it together.”

“It’ll take me a few days. I’ll be in touch,” he said. I thanked him, left a retainer and headed home, angrier than I was before. It pissed me off to think that she could screw around on me, then effectively rape me financially like that.

Ginger was still at work when I got home, and I really didn’t feel like hanging around the house, so I changed clothes, grabbed my golf clubs and headed to the golf course to take my frustrations out on some golf balls.

I hadn’t been there very long when it happened. I was in the middle of a swing when I was suddenly enveloped in a strange green light. My whole body was in sheer agony. It felt as if every molecule in me was about to fly apart. I don’t even remember falling to the ground. The next thing I knew, I woke up here, in the hospital.

A tap on the door brought me back to reality. I looked up and saw Lucy, the nurse, walking into the room, pushing a cart. I looked at the clock and saw she had been gone for nearly a half-hour.

“Sorry I’m running late,” she said. “We’re just a bit short-handed today and I got sidetracked.”

“No problem,” I told her. “I was lost in my own thoughts anyway.” She handed me a menu and I looked it over. Everything looked tasty, and I couldn’t make up my mind so I asked Lucy what she recommended.

“The grilled chicken breast is really quite good,” she said. “It also comes with garlic green beans and garlic mashed potatoes.”

“That sounds good,” I said as I picked up the hospital phone to place my order. After I finished, she began changing my bandages.

“You know, everyone is really amazed at how well and how fast you’re healing,” she said as she removed the bandages.

“Thanks,” I said.

“God, what beautiful blue eyes he has. I’ve never seen such piercing blue eyes before,” I heard her say. There was only one problem, though. Her lips never moved. And what does she mean, blue eyes, I asked myself. My eyes are brown.

“What was that about my eyes?” I asked. She looked at me, surprise on her face.

“I… didn’t say anything about your eyes,” she said. “Oh, my God. I thought about how piercing your eyes are. So… blue. But I didn’t say anything. At least, not out loud.” I let that sink in for a moment before continuing.

“But my eyes are brown, not blue,” I said. She shook her head.

“Oh no, they’re blue alright. With a tiny gold speck on one side. Here, take a look,” she said, grabbing a small mirror from the counter. She handed it to me and I looked. Sure enough, they were a piercing sky blue and had a tiny gold speck next to the pupil, on the outboard side. What the hell, I asked myself. I handed the mirror back.

“Is my driver’s license here?” I asked her.

“If it’s in your wallet, sure,” she said.

“Can you get it, please?” I asked. She went to the wardrobe and pulled my wallet out of my trousers. I grabbed my license and showed it to her. It clearly indicated the color of my eyes: brown.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I’d better tell Dr. Simpson about this.” By then, my food had arrived, and I was starving, so Lucy let the orderly place my meal on the bed tray and left me to eat in peace. I had just finished my pudding when Lucy and Dr. Simpson came into the room. He immediately came to my side and looked down at me for a moment.

“Lucy told me about your eyes, Mr. Drake. Mind if I take a quick look?” he asked.

“Not at all,” I said. He sat down and flashed his light into my eyes and looked at them carefully. “Is it possible for a person’s eyes to change color?” I asked when he sat back.

“I have heard of cases where eyes have changed hues,” he said. “But I’ve never known anyone to have such a drastic change like yours. And I don’t recall seeing the specks of gold before. I think it would be best if we have a specialist take a look.” I looked and saw Lucy had left the room, so I told the doctor how I had heard her thinking about my eyes. He said nothing for a few minutes but a frown crossed his face. I could tell what he was thinking.

“I assure you, doc, I’m not making this up and I certainly don’t want attention. I just want to get back to my life,” I said. He seemed a bit shocked when I repeated his unspoken concerns back to him.

“Alright, Mr. Drake,” he said. “You had a pretty unnerving experience and your brain has absorbed a great deal of energy. I’ll schedule some tests tomorrow and have someone speak with you about this… phenomenon.”

“Thank you, Dr. Simpson,” I said as he stood up. Lucy came in as the doctor left the room.

“Do you need anything before I head out for the day?” she asked.

“I was wondering if anyone called my wife to let her know I’m awake,” I said.

“Yes, I called her earlier. She said she would come see you when she could break free,” she said. I could sense the sadness in her voice. And in her mind. This was unnerving, I thought. I nodded my head.

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.

“I’ll see you then,” I told her. She smiled before turning away. I tried to watch some television, hoping that Battlestar Gallactica reruns would help take my mind off my problems. They didn’t, however. I ordered dinner and had just finished when I heard a tapping at the door — it was Ginger.

I looked up and got the shock of my life. She looked… different. It was like looking at one of those 3-D anaglyph pictures where the red and cyan are offset somewhat. I rubbed my eyes, hoping I could focus on her but I couldn’t. I looked at other objects and people, but they appeared normal. What the hell is going on, I asked myself. I tired looking back at her, but it was difficult.

“I heard you woke up, sweetheart,” she said. “I just got off work so I thought I’d stop by and see you before I went home. Are you okay? What’s the matter?”

“It’s my… eyes,” I said. “They’re playing tricks on me.”

“Your eyes?” she asked. “Oh, my. They’re blue. And they have this strange gold speck in them. How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “They’re gonna have a specialist come and check them out.”

Frowning, she came into the room and walked up to the bed. She reached out and touched my arm, and I felt a shock, the kind you get when you touch metal after walking across a carpet. We both jerked back momentarily.

“That was… shocking,” she said as she held her hand. I looked at her face and tried to focus on her, but it was difficult.

“I guess it’s just residual energy from the lightning strike,” I said. I didn’t know if that was true or not, but it sounded good in my head and I hoped she bought it. She smiled as she looked back at me, but her smile actually revolted me. I felt like I was in the presence of something… evil.

“What’s wrong, dear?” she asked, concerned. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Of course,” I said. “They told me you only came by once for a short visit while I was out.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was so upset when I first saw you. You looked pretty bad when they brought you in. You look pretty good now, though.”

“They said I’m healing up faster than they expected.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “How much longer are you going to be in here?”

“I don’t know,” I told her. “Maybe a few more days depending on how well I heal up.”

“Good. That will give me at least another day or two with Chad,” I heard her say. But, like with Lucy, her mouth never moved. Was I hearing her thoughts as well? Then she actually spoke.

“That’s good,” she said. “I can’t wait to have you back home. It’s been so lonely without you.” I’ll just bet, I thought.

“So, what have you been doing with yourself?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Just working, then sitting in front of the television, thinking about you, then going to bed,” she said.

“Sounds pretty boring,” I said.

“Only until Chad comes by. Then we spend the night fucking each other’s brains out,” I heard her say. “God, I can’t wait to get that monster cock of his inside me tonight.” I looked up at her, and saw her mouth had never moved. This is getting scary, I thought.

“It is pretty boring,” she said. “I’m just glad you’re doing better, though.”

“Yeah, I’m doing better,” I said half-heartedly. My body might be healing, but my heart was breaking as I realized what kind of a monster I had married.

“Well, look, I’m going to head on out,” she said.

“You just got here,” I said.

“I’m feeling pretty grungy and I really need a shower,” she said. “Plus, I’m kinda hungry.” I heard more, but her mouth never moved. “And horny as hell. Chad is probably halfway to the house by now.”

“So, you don’t have anything planned? No visitors or anything? Not even another girl’s night out?” I asked. “I figured you’d be out almost every night since I’m not home.” Her face paled for a moment but she recovered quickly.

“No, nothing planned for tonight,” she lied. “I might go out for a bit tomorrow. Of course, I’ll stop by and see you first.”

“Yeah, that might be nice,” I said. “By the way, who’s Chad?” She looked at me, surprised. “I’ve heard you mention him a couple times now.”

“Chad?” she asked. “I… don’t know. I don’t recall mentioning him. There is a guy at the office named Chad. Chad Wheeler. He’s one of the guys who runs the office.”

“Drives a fancy sports car? One of those European models?”

“I think so. Why?” I heard her say something after that, but her lips never moved. “Does he know about Chad? Oh, shit.” Busted, I thought to myself.

“Nothing. Just wondering,” I said. I heard her breathe a sigh of relief at that. “So, you’ll come by after work tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“So you’ve said,” I told her. She leaned down and gave me a patronizing kiss on the top of my head.

“Well, I’d better get going. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” I told her. I watched as she left the room. My heart was broken, but I wasn’t about to let her get me down. I had a lot to think about. Namely, how to get out of this farce of a marriage with my balls — and as much of my bank account as I could — intact.

I turned the television on and tried to watch, but I just couldn’t get into it. Finally, I turned the television off and fell asleep.

I woke up sometime in the night and heard low whispers in the room. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but I clearly heard two separate voices. It was quite dark, with the only light coming from the equipment next to my bed. I looked around and thought I saw two shadowy figures at the foot of my bed.

“Hello?” I asked quietly. They turned their heads to look at me and I saw two sets of strangely-shaped yellow eyes staring back. I felt a strange chill go up my spine. “Who are you?” I asked. I never got an answer as the figures dissolved into thin air right before me. Startled, I hit the call button. A nurse came in a few seconds later.

“Are you alright, Mr. Drake?” she asked. I shook my head.

“There were two people in here and then they just disappeared,” I said. She looked around the room before responding.

“It looks like we’re the only two people in here now,” she said. “Are you sure you weren’t just having a bad dream?”

“No, I’m sure there were two people right there at the foot of my bed.”

“Well, no one has come in since I came on this evening, and my station is right across from your room,” she said. “Why don’t you lay back down and try to get some sleep.”

“I don’t know that I can sleep right now,” I told her.

“I’ll talk to the doctor and see if we can give you something. Just stay right there, okay?”

“Okay,” I said. A few minutes later, she came back with a pill and gave it to me.

“This should help you go to sleep,” she said. “And if you see those people back in here, call me immediately, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, returning her smile. I laid back down and was soon asleep. After breakfast the next morning, Dr. Simpson came into my room with another man in medical garb.

“How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Drake?” Dr. Simspon asked.

“I’m feeling rested, thank you,” I said.

“Good,” he responded. “This is Dr. Allen. He’s an eye specialist and he wants to give you a quick exam if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure,” I said. Dr. Allen sat down in a stool next to my bed and looked at my eyes for a moment.

“Dr. Simpson tells me you were struck by lightning,” he said.

“Yes, I was,” I told him. He looked up at Dr. Simpson.

“And you saw no signs of any Lichtenberg figures?” he asked. Dr. Simpson shook his head.

“No, none.” I looked at them both, wondering what they were talking about. Dr. Simpson saw the confusion on my face and explained. “Those are tattoo-like scars that result when lightning forces the red blood cells out of your capillaries, and into your epidermis. Some people who have been struck have them over very large areas of their bodies. For whatever reason, you have no such scarring whatsoever.”

“Did you notice any damage to his eyes when he was brought in?” Dr. Allen asked. Dr. Simpson shook his head.

“They were glazed over when he first came in, but then they cleared fairly quickly and we saw no apparent damage,” he said. Dr. Allen nodded his head and looked at me.

“There’s one other thing,” I said. I told them what happened when Ginger came to see me last night. They said nothing until I was finished.

“Have you experienced this with anyone or anything else?” Dr. Allen asked. I shook my head.

“No, I haven’t,” I told him.

“Interesting,” he said. “Have you felt any pain, stinging or burning in your eyes since this happened?” Again, I shook my head.

“No,” I said.

“I see. Do you wear glasses?”

“Only when I’m working on a server. I need them for reading, but that’s all,” I said.

“Let me take a quick look at your eyes,” he said. He pulled a small scope out of his pocket, turned on the light and looked into both my eyes. When he finished, he turned it off and sat back.

“I don’t see any obvious damage,” he said. “No cataracts, no signs of blood in the vitreous humor. Nothing seems to be out of place. Everything appears to be okay. I’d say you got lucky. Lightning can do a great deal of damage to the eyes. Nevertheless, I’d like to do a thorough examination. I’d like you to set up an appointment with the Eye Center after you’re discharged. Here’s my card. You can tell them I asked you to call.” He handed me a business card. “And don’t wait too long. It generally takes a few weeks before they can get you in.”

“I won’t, thanks,” I said. “What about my eyes changing color?”

“It has been known to happen, but to be honest, I’ve never seen a change quite as drastic as yours. I wouldn’t worry too much about it at this point. Just make that appointment and we’ll take a closer look at everything, okay?”

“Okay,” I said. He got up, shook Dr. Simpson’s hand and left.

“Well, Mr. Drake, let’s check you out and get those bandages changed, shall we? We have you set for some tests later this morning,” he said. Nurse Lucy came into the room with a cart of bandages and the two of them looked me over, amazed at how fast I was healing.

“It seems like most of your lesions are completely healed,” Dr. Simpson said. “I see no need to keep you bandaged up like a mummy. We’ll only change the dressings on what’s necessary and then get you down for your tests.”

Lucy wheeled me around and hovered over me as I underwent several tests, including an MRI. By the time we got back to my room, it was time for lunch, so I ordered a burger and fries. Shortly after I finished, Dr. Simpson came in the room, reports in hand.

“Good afternoon, doc,” I said. “Good news, I hope.” He smiled as he sat down.

“Actually, yes,” he said. “According to your test results, your brain activity is about 15 to 20 percent above what is considered normal. The MRI showed everything is in good shape, no signs of internal damage or tumors. I think we can let you go home sometime late tomorrow morning.”

“That sounds good to me, doc,” I said.

“Tell me, Mr. Drake, do you still hear other people’s thoughts?” he asked. I looked at him and for a moment, he appeared the same way Ginger had, but not as severe. I began to wonder what he was on about. “If he does, I can use that as an excuse to keep him for observation and maybe get Stan to do some exploratory surgery,” I heard him say. But his lips never moved. I decided to put him off, at least for now.

“No, doc,” I said. “Apparently, whatever it was that made that happen is gone now. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get home and get back to my life.”

“Of course,” he said. I could see the disappointment in his face — and in his mind. I also saw something else. Apparently, the MRI had revealed some strange new nerve clusters in my brain that no one could explain. I figured that as long as I feigned no strange abilities they would have no reason to keep me, and I certainly didn’t want anyone digging around in my brain. He made some notes in his chart and stood to leave.

“Get some rest, Mr. Drake,” he said. “I’ll be by to check up on you later.”

“Thanks,” I said. Lucy prepared to leave as well, but turned back to me before she left the room.

“I’ll be by in a bit to check up on you,” she said. I nodded my thanks and grabbed my cell, which she had left on the nightstand, plugged into the charger. I called my parents and told them the news. They were happy to hear that I was doing better and promised to come pick me up in the morning. Dad told me they had picked my car up from the golf course and took it home.

My next call was to Ryan. He was happy to hear I was awake and would be going home tomorrow, and said he would pass the word around as everyone at the office was asking how I was doing. He also told me to take the next week off, since I had plenty of sick time.

“I want you back here at 100 percent,” he said with a chuckle. I thanked him for the time off. I laid back in the bed after ending the call and tried watching some television, but my mind kept going back to Ginger. Why was she doing this to me? To us? Or did it even matter anymore?

Moreover, what do I do about it? Under normal circumstances, divorce would seem to be a no-brainer. Sure, the lawyer had probably worked up a post-nuptial agreement, but to me that was a bit like closing the barn door after the horses had already escaped. Lucy’s voice brought me back to reality.

“How are you feeling?” she asked quietly as she stood next to my bed. I hadn’t even heard her come in the room and was startled at the sound of her voice. “Sorry,” she added. “I didn’t mean to startle you. You looked like you were deep in thought.”

“I was,” I said. She pulled up a stool and recorded my vitals as she spoke.

“Tell me the truth,” she said quietly. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Your cat, Snagglepuss,” I said without thinking. “You’re wondering what trouble he’s getting himself into right now.” She chuckled at that.

“Yes, he’s a cutie, but he tends to get into things. Last night, he…”

“Jumped off your staircase right into your plate,” I said, finishing her sentence. “Sent food flying everywhere.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s right. I spent several minutes warming that lasagna up in my microwave.” She looked at me closer before speaking. “So, you lied to Dr. Simpson. That’s alright, your secret is safe with me.” I looked at her, surprised.

“Thank you for that,” I said. “I have no desire to be someone’s guinea pig, and I sure as hell don’t want anyone poking around in my brain. Does he suspect?”

“Not that I know of,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. They can’t do anything without your consent. Besides, your discharge papers are being put together even as we speak. You’ll be out of here tomorrow morning, provided everything looks good, which I suspect it will.”

“You seem sad to see me leave,” I said.

“There’s no secrets from there, are there? Yes, I am sad to see you leave. I guess I’ve gotten hooked on those big blue eyes of yours,” she said.

“You do know I’m still married, right?” I asked.

“I know,” she said. “But something tells me not for long. Am I right?”

“Probably not,” I said. “I had just visited a lawyer shortly before… this… happened. From what he tells me, if I divorce her, I’ll probably end up living in a cardboard box under a freeway somewhere while she gets half or more of everything I’ve ever worked for.”

“Are you allergic to cats?” she asked.

“Is that an invitation?” I asked in response. She smiled at that.

“Well, let’s just say you do have options,” she said. “I happen to have a spare room that’s empty at the moment. And no, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Somehow, I already knew that, but it felt good hearing it from her anyway.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Lucy,” I said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. She pulled out a card and wrote her phone number and address on the back. “I’ll put this in your wallet, just in case I don’t get to see you before you leave tomorrow. My shift starts a bit later tomorrow than normal. I do hope to hear from you sometime soon,” she added with a smile.

“However things work out, I’ll let you know,” I promised.

“Thank you,” she said. “My shift is about over, so I have to get going. I hope to see you tomorrow, but if I don’t, please call. Even if it’s just to say hello.”

“I will,” I said. She looked around to make sure no one could see her, then gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Get some rest, okay? Sweet dreams,” she said as she stood. I watched her leave the room and wondered what she looked like under her scrubs. At that moment, I realized that things would work out for me, no matter what happened with Ginger.

Speaking of the devil, she strode in about 5:45 pm. She smiled as she came to the side of the bed. I had a difficult time looking at her, since there appeared to be three of her, one blue, one red and one green. Nevertheless, I tried to focus on her as she came to my side.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Better,” I said. “Thanks for asking. I’ll be going home tomorrow morning sometime. Mom and Dad are picking me up, so there’s no need for you to take a day off.”

“Oh,” she said, acting surprised that I was coming home so soon. Or was it disappointment? She reached down and took my right hand. I felt a shock, but not as bad as the previous day. She didn’t seem to notice it. But something happened when she held my hand. It was as if her memories were being dumped into my head, almost like a computer data backup.

It didn’t take very long, maybe a few seconds at most. When the “dump” was complete, my mind was filled with memories not mine. It felt strange having her memories in my head like that. I shook my head to clear it and looked back up at her.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her brows furrowed.

“Uh, yeah,” I said.

“Maybe you should stay another day or two,” she said. I shook my head. I knew what she wanted — more sack time with Chad Fucking Wheeler, the rich SOB with the fancy European car. No way.

“No, I’m healing up fine,” I said. “I need to get home, start getting back to a normal life.”

“I’m concerned that you may be pushing yourself too hard,” she said, trying to sound concerned. I knew the truth, however. She wanted more “alone” time with her lover. In my bed. I shook my head.

“I’ll be okay. I can’t heal laying here in this hospital,” I told her. After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, with Ginger nervously fidgeting with her purse, I spoke to her one more time. “Look, I can tell you’d rather be someplace else than here. Hell, I’d rather be somewhere else. Why don’t you just go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Are you sure?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, just go,” I said, looking anywhere except at her.

“You can’t even look at me, can you?” she asked.

“It actually hurts to look at you. I can’t explain it. Just go, we’ll talk later.”

“Are we finished, Cam?” she asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.

“What do you think, Ginger?”

“Have I really been that bad a wife to you?”

“You really want me to answer that?” I asked. “Let me show you something.” I grabbed my phone and pulled up my videos. I showed her the video I took of her in the sports car. She gasped and brought one hand to her mouth.

“You… You saw that?” she asked. I nodded my head.

“Yeah,” I said. “I was in a company truck right next to you. I’m assuming the driver is Chad. Am I right?”

“Yes,” she finally said. I nodded my head.

“What would you think if it were me in the driver’s seat of that car and another woman was doing what you were doing? Hmm?”

“I’d be mad as hell,” she said.

“Yeah, I know. How long has it been going on with him?”

“A few months now,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Can the excuses, Ginger,” I said. “The sex was bad enough. It’s the lies, the disrespect you’ve shown me over the last few months. The threats and the insinuations. When I saw you in that car, I had had it. The day I got hit by lightning, I had just come from speaking with a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” she asked, shocked. “What did you see a lawyer about?”

“Well, you normally see a lawyer when you want a divorce,” I told her.

“But I don’t want a divorce,” she cried.

“Your actions say otherwise. Don’t worry. I haven’t filed… yet.” She breathed a sigh of relief at that.

“So what are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “But something has to be done. I can’t live like this any longer.”

“We can get through this, Cam,” she said. “I really do love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“The problem is, Ginger, I don’t trust you. And I don’t believe you. I’ve caught you in multiple lies already. God only knows how many others you’ve told me these last few months. Have you been with Chad since I’ve been in the hospital?” She looked down at the floor, not saying anything. “I think I have my answer. Please, just go before I get too upset. We’ll talk about all this later.”

I could sense a gamut of emotions running through her — shock at being found out, hurt that I might actually divorce her, or worse, sadness at the loss of my love. Tears started running down her face as she turned for the door. She stopped and looked back at me one last time.

“I’ll be waiting for you at home, Cam,” she said. “Alone. I promise.” For a moment, her image came into focus and I believed her. “I’m through with Chad and his bullshit,” I heard her say in her mind. She spoke one last time before leaving. “I have to work tomorrow, you know. We have a big project that we’re finishing up, but I’ll come straight home after work and we can talk, okay?” I sensed no deception in her, so I nodded my head.

“I’d like that,” I said. She gave me a smile and then left. I laid back in the bed wondering what in the hell just happened. Not only with my marriage, but with me. On top of all the strange changes I had gone through, now I have all these memories jumbled in my mind.

I didn’t have very long to think about it when I heard a knock at the door. I looked up to see Bill Collins, an old friend from way back. We had known each other since grade school. Like me, he worked at Apex, but he was what the company called a “Customer Service Representative.” That’s a fancy title for “salesman.”

He was damn good at his job, though, making six figures with salary, commissions and bonuses. Unfortunately, a lot of that went to his ex-wife and the place he used to call home. He caught his wife having sex with her boss in his marital bed and filed for divorce.

He got screwed, royally, thanks to his wife’s lover being a senior partner with a large legal firm. He was falsely accused of all sorts of things, from mental cruelty to physical and even child abuse. By the time the smoke cleared, he was left with less than half of his marital assets, half of his accrued retirement and just under half of his earnings. He narrowly escaped going to jail over the false claims his wife and lover made against him.

He fought the claims, but the defamation lawsuits never went anywhere. Now he was stuck paying “maintenance” to his wife, a ton of money in child support and the mortgage on the house he used to call home. Making matters worse, he was only permitted a couple hours of supervised visitation every couple weeks.

His wife did let him have a travel trailer he bought to take the family out on camping trips. It was a pretty good-sized unit and slept four people comfortably. He set it up at a local RV park just outside of town, and he still calls it “home.”

The whole experience made him a bitter man, though, especially where women are concerned. “Find ’em, fuck ’em, forget ’em” became his motto. Relationships, he once told me, were a waste of time and effort.

“Hey, Cam,” he said as he poked his head in the door. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” I told him.

“Your folks said they’re taking you home tomorrow, so I thought I’d stop by and see ya.” He looked at me funny for a moment. “What the hell happened to your eyes?”

“A side effect of the lightning,” I said.

“Damn,” he said. “So, how’s things going?”

“Could be better,” I said. Bill listened quietly as I told him about Ginger. He shook his head.

“Damn, Cam, I thought she was the real deal. I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. I nodded my head in agreement. “Bitch has to die,” I heard him say. But his lips never moved.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, shocked. He looked at me, surprised.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said.

“I thought I heard you say she has to die,” I told him.

“I may have thought it, but I never said it. Don’t tell me you can read minds now,” he said.

“I’ve been hearing all kinds of strange things. Don’t say anything to anyone, please. I’m hoping it goes away.”

“Mum’s the word, pal. No one will ever hear anything from me. But you need to do something. If you don’t, everyone will see you as a wimp and a cuckold,” he said.

“I know,” I told him. “I’ve already been to a divorce lawyer. He pretty much told me what would happen. Said I’d end up like you.” Bill laughed at that.

Yeah, well at least Gloria let me have the travel trailer. If she hadn’t done that, there’s no telling where I’d be staying. Look, if you need a place to rack out for a while, you’re always welcome.”

“Thanks, Bill, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” I said. “Ginger and I are gonna have a talk about all this tomorrow. Lawyer’s drawing up some kind of an agreement. We’ll see what happens.”

“What about the piece of shit she’s fucking? You gonna do anything about him?”

“I’d like to, but I don’t know what right now. I sure as hell don’t want to go to jail over either one of them. They’re just not worth it.”

“You got a point there. Still, it’d be nice if he woke up one morning with his balls missing.” We both chuckled at that. We talked and laughed about this and that for a bit longer. Finally, he looked at his watch and stood up to leave.

“This has been fun, but I need my beauty sleep. Unlike you, I have to go to work tomorrow,” he said. “Stay in touch and let me know how things work out. If there’s anything you need, just call.”

“Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that,” I told him. After he left, I watched television for a while, then drifted off to sleep. It was a fitful sleep, made worse by dreams of disjointed images and scenes from what looked like several night clubs or hotel rooms. The next morning after breakfast, Dr. Simpson checked me out and cleared me for release.

“I’m doing this against my better judgment,” he said. “Do me a favor and get in touch with me if you feel anything out of the ordinary — headaches, dizziness, memory loss — anything. Promise?”

“I promise,” I said. He extended his hand and I shook it. The second our hands connected, I sensed the same kind of “memory dump” I experienced with Ginger the previous day. The sensation only lasted a second or two. He looked at me strangely.

“Are you okay, Mr. Drake?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Just anxious to get home.”

“Alright, well, remember, call me if you feel anything out of the ordinary,” he said. I promised him I would and started dressing for the trip home. By then, my parents arrived and we said our hellos.

“Well, you look pretty chipper for someone who just got hit by lightning,” Dad said with a smile. I smiled back.

“I’m feeling pretty good as well,” I told him.

“What happened to your eyes?” Mom asked.

“Oh, just a side effect of the lightning,” I said. “What do you think?”

“They’re… different,” she said. A nurse came into the room and gave me my discharge papers, which included a couple of prescriptions and instructions for follow-up doctor visits. Then she grabbed a wheelchair and the four of us prepared to leave the ward. Before I left, though, I asked to stop at the nurse’s station and left a message for Judy, thanking her for taking care of me.

“Got a girl friend? What will Ginger think about that?” Mom asked.

“Judy’s just a friend, Mom,” I said. “She took good care of me while I was here.” I didn’t want to get into my issues with Ginger right then. Dad drove us to my condo and they helped me inside with my things. Mom had a covered dish, which I knew contained a meatloaf. I thanked her for the food, and put it in the refrigerator. After we said our goodbyes, I put my stuff in the master bedroom, wondering how long I would remain here. I went back into the front room, turned on the television and sat on the couch.

I must have dozed off, because I woke with a start when I heard the doorbell ring. I looked at the clock and saw it was just after 12:30 pm. I opened the door to see two tall men in dark suits and sunglasses. One of them quickly flashed what looked like official credentials.

“Federal agents, Mr. Drake. May we come in?” one of them asked. I opened the door and let them inside. I tried to read them as I had done with Dr. Simpson, Ginger and Judy, but wasn’t able to. It was as if they weren’t really there.

“Please have a seat,” I said. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Water? Coke?”

“No, nothing, thank you,” the other man said, opening a briefcase he had set on my coffee table. “We have a matter of great importance to discuss with you, Mr. Drake.”

“What agency did you say you’re with?” I asked. They looked at each other for a minute. I knew something was fishy with these guys, so I pressed the issue. “Can I get a closer look at those credentials, please? I’d like to verify your identities.”

The first man looked at me. Then he took his glasses off, and I saw the same strangely-shaped yellow eyes I had seen that night in my hospital room.

“Alright,” I said, a bit upset. “Who are you? Really?”

“I’m sorry for the deception, Mr. Drake,” the man said. “We are the ones responsible for your… condition.”

“The lightning? You are the ones responsible for that?” I asked.

“It wasn’t lightning, Mr. Drake,” the other man said. “It was an… accident. Unfortunately, you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. We… apologize.”

“Well, if you two are responsible for this, then you can fix it, right? Maybe you can, I don’t know, reverse the polarity or something and undo what you did.”

“It is not that simple, Mr. Drake,” the first man said. “For two reasons. First, the modulator is… broken. And it cannot be repaired here. Second, you would not survive a second strike. The first strike nearly dematerialized your cellular structure. A second would certainly be fatal. Besides, you are nearly fully-transitioned anyway.”

“Fatal. Fucking wonderful. Fully-transitioned? Into what?”

“The modulator beam has altered your DNA. You may have noticed some changes lately.”

“I have. What else is going to happen?”

“That will depend on you and your genetic makeup,” the second man said.

“This just keeps getting better and better. So, who are you two? You never answered my question.”

“We are scientists with the H’tq’uiy Antiquities Society. We were sent here to perform a survey. Are you familiar with the Gingravik?” the first man said.

“Uh, no,” I said. “What is that, some kind of European rock band or something? And who are the Hotkey, anyway?” The two of them looked at each other and I heard sounds but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“That’s H’tq’uiy, not ‘hotkey.’ There is a difference. So, you have not heard of the Gingravik?” the second man asked.

“Never heard of them,” I said.

“Then there is nothing more to be learned here,” the first man said. “We apologize for wasting your time. Good day.” They stood to leave, but I stopped them.

“No, you’re not just going to come in my house after hitting me with something that put me in the fucking hospital for several days, then just walk the fuck out,” I said. They stopped and looked back at me. “I may have been born at night, but it sure as hell wasn’t last night. I know when someone’s trying to feed me a bunch of bullshit, and believe me, this stinks to high heaven.” They turned and sat back down and considered me for a few moments.

“We do not wish for you to consume feces,” the first man said. “And you are right. Your condition is due to our own failed experiment, so it is only right we help you in your transition.” He opened his case and pulled out what looked like a headset, a book and a USB drive. He set them on the table.

“We detect memories from two other humans in your cranium. The headset is designed to download those to your computer. We have designed it with what you call Bluetooth to make that easier. The USB drive contains an app that will sort the memories and allow you to catalog and view them from any perspective you wish.”

“And this?” I asked, looking at the book, taking in the strange symbols on the cover.

“An instruction manual to help you in your transition,” the second man said. “The book will adjust as you develop so you will be able to understand what is written. You will need to follow those directions as closely as possible.”

“What if I have questions? How will I contact you?” I asked.

“You won’t,” the first man said. “We must report to our superiors, and there is no guarantee we will be back. If we do return, however, we will check in to see how you have progressed. Again, you have our apologies. Good luck.” With that, they stood up and left.

After they left, I took the items into the second bedroom — a room I used as an “office” where I kept my personal laptop. I booted it up and inserted the USB drive after the Windows desktop came up. After my anti-virus program did its thing, the app began to load.

Once finished, it prompted me to pair the headset. I picked up the unit and found what appeared to be a power button. It lit up when I pressed the button and a few seconds later, I saw a notification that it had paired through Bluetooth.

Nervous, I put the thing on my head and waited for the program to respond. A few seconds later, I saw a dialog box telling me it was downloading. When the progress bar hit 100 percent, the box simply read, “Processing…”

I figured it would take a while for this to complete, judging from the movement of the progress bar, so I pulled out my phone and called Drew, the lawyer I saw the day I was “zapped.” His receptionist told me was in court that day but I was able to make an appointment for the next afternoon, which suited me fine.

After I ended the call, I went into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. When I got back, I saw the progress bar was still moving slowly across the screen, so I picked up the book and opened it up, curious about its content.

The first page had an interesting quote, which I took to be a warning: “With power comes responsibility. The greater the power, the greater the responsibility.” I turned the page and saw a table of contents. What struck me right off was that it was written in two languages — English and something I had never seen before.

The first section was labeled, “Information Gathering.” The rest was unreadable, so I turned to the first section. The first thing I read was, “Know your enemy as yourself.” Enemy. The word was like a knife in my chest. Was Ginger now my “enemy?” I read on.

The book explained the anaglyph effect I experienced with both Ginger and Dr. Simpson. According to the book, the more underhanded, deceptive and devious the individual, the more pronounced the effect would be. In short, I could tell who I could trust simply by looking at them. The book went into a fair amount of detail, so I read and re-read the section.

My computer “dinged” about the time I finished re-reading that section, so I placed a marker in the book and turned to my computer. The processing had completed and I was now presented with a list of two names — Dr. Alan Simpson and Ginger Drake, my errant wife.

I selected Ginger’s name and clicked my mouse. I was then presented with a list of years. I thought this to be curious, so I selected the first year and was presented with a long list of dates. I selected the first, observing it was shortly after Ginger was born. A video screen popped up and I saw two smiling faces.

I recognized them as much younger versions of Ginger’s parents and realized this was her first recorded memory. I also noticed this was being presented from her point of view. I looked at the side of the video window and saw “Perspective,” so I clicked on it. I was given a choice between “First person” or “Third person.” I clicked “third” and the view changed. Now, I was seeing her memory as though looking from an outsider’s point of view.

I saw the two adults, standing over a crib, smiling and talking in low tones to the baby inside. The edges of the video were grainy and much of the room’s detail was missing. Still, it was heart-warming to see the love the parents had for their young daughter and I caught myself getting a bit misty-eyed watching them.

I exited the video and looked through the dates. Curious, I selected the day of our wedding. I watched her get dressed, her mother helping her. Then I saw her father walk her down the aisle and shake my hand. I nearly cried as I watched the two of us exchange vows, rings and kisses. That was the happiest day of my life to that point.

From there, I searched through the dates and selected one about the time I began noticing changes in Ginger. The video showed her walking into a nicely-appointed office, folders in hand. I recognized the well-dressed man behind the desk — Chad Fucking Wheeler — the same guy I had seen in the car that day.

“Here’s those reports you requested, Mr. Wheeler,” she said, handing him the folders. He looked up, smiled and took the folders, setting them down on his desk without looking at them.

“Thank you, Ginger,” he said. “You know when it’s just the two of us you can call me Chad, right?”

“Yes… Chad,” Ginger said quietly.

“So, have you given any thought to my proposal?” he asked.

“I have, Chad, and I’ve decided that I can’t do it. It’s not right. I love my husband, and I can’t cheat on him,” she said. Good girl, I thought.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Ginger,” he said. “I think you would have had a wonderful future here in the company. Of course, I’ll have to report this to HR and the Board of Directors. Chances are they’ll just fire you, but there’s always the possibility that you may end up facing charges and you could find yourself behind bars. Look, I’m not asking you to leave your husband and run off with me. I’m giving you a way to… work out your little problem.”

“But Chad, I’ve been through all my spreadsheets and reports,” she said. “I haven’t overlooked anything.”

“Yes, but that assumes your original reports were correct to start with,” he said. “I tell you what. I’ll give you the rest of the day to think about it. Call your husband and tell him you have to work late or you’re going out for a drink with the girls after work. Tell him whatever you want. Then meet me here in my office after everyone leaves and we can discuss this in a more… intimate setting. I won’t take much of your time. Then you can go back home to your loving husband. Deal?”

“I… guess so, Chad,” she said after a while.

“Good. I’ll expect to see you at 5:15 sharp,” he said, turning back to his work. She nodded her head, then turned and left. I thought I saw tears in her eyes. I fast-forwarded through the day’s video, watching her work at her desk. I saw her pull out her phone and call me. I remembered that call. She told me she was stuck on a major project and would have to work a bit late. After she ended the call, she wiped her eyes with a tissue and went back to work.

I fast-forwarded the video and saw her enter Chad’s office after everyone else had left. He smiled as he handed her a drink.

“Just something to help you relax,” he said. She took the glass and swallowed nearly half of what was in it. “Have a seat, Ginger,” he said, motioning to a couch along one wall. She sat down, and I could tell she was nervous. “Take another sip of your drink, dear,” he told her. She obeyed, and handed him the glass when it was empty.

“More, please,” she said. He nodded his head and poured another drink. I couldn’t see what he was doing as his back was turned to me. He turned around and handed her the glass, full of something. She took another long sip and set the glass down.

“So, have you reconsidered my proposal?” he asked as he sat down next to her.

“I’ve thought about it, yes,” she said.

“And?”

“How long would I have to do this?” she asked.

“That depends,” he said. “We’ll have to evaluate your performance. See how well you fulfill your obligations to the board and the clients.”

“You realize that you’re basically making me a company prostitute,” she said. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Perhaps, but only if you’re stupid enough to say anything to anyone,” he told her. “Of course, if you go along with the program, you’ll be paid handsomely. If not, well, your husband may get a nasty surprise in the mail one of these days.”

“He’ll figure it out, you know. He’s not stupid,” she said. He chuckled at that.

“Then it’ll be your job to make sure he never learns the truth. Now, why don’t you slip out of those clothes and get comfortable?” She looked at him for a moment, then began taking her clothes off. The video got fuzzy a few times, but I could still see her dropping her clothes on the floor.

“Better,” he said after she was naked. “Now, let’s see what you can do with your mouth. On your knees.” She silently obeyed and I began to wonder if perhaps he had drugged her. As I watched, she gave him a sloppy blowjob, swallowing his load after he pumped it into her throat.

“Not bad,” he said. “Now, lay back and spread your legs like a good slut. Let me show you what a real man feels like.” She obeyed without saying a word and he removed the rest of his clothes. I could see his cock was still quite hard, and he appeared to be pretty well-endowed. He got between her legs and slid his hard unprotected member inside Ginger, causing her to moan in pleasure.

At that moment, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. It’s one thing to see another man between your wife’s legs, but it’s something else again to hear her cry out in pleasure. He derided me as he pumped inside her.

“Yeah, that pussy of yours is so fucking tight. Your wimpy husband must not have much of a dick. That’s alright, I’ll give you the fucking you deserve, not like that little geek you’re married to,” he sneered. Ginger responded by crying out in pleasure.

“Yes, fuck me. Don’t ever stop,” she screamed. He pounded her for a bit longer, growling as he did so.

“I’m getting ready to cum inside your pussy, Ginger. Are you ready for it?”

“Yes, please. Do it! Cum inside me. Fill me up,” she cried. With a howl, he tensed up as he ejaculated inside her. Then he pulled out and I could see his semen running out of her splayed pussy. I felt like throwing up.

“We’re not done yet, sweet cheeks,” he said. “Turn over.” She obeyed and he thrust inside her again, this time from the back. “You like doing it doggie-style?”

“Yes, I love it,” she said.

“Bet your wimpy limp-dick husband never did this, did he?”

“No, never,” she said. He smirked as he plunged inside her pussy, filling her pussy with his semen a second time. This went on for a while, until both of them were sated. He pulled out of her and sat behind his desk, where he lit a cigarette. That’s where the cigarette smell came from. She sat on the couch, his cum dribbling out of her.

“Not bad, Ginger,” he said. “I think the Board will like you. Not to mention our clients.”

“What about my husband?” she asked.

“What about him? He’s your problem, not mine. Just don’t ever breathe a word of this to him or anyone else. You understand?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“And I’ll expect you to maintain the same level of output in your work. Just because you’re my current whore doesn’t mean you get to slack off. Got it?” She nodded her head. “And remember, you’re to be available to me at a moment’s notice. I don’t care what you’re doing, or where you’re at. When I call, you make an excuse and report to me immediately. Understand?” She didn’t immediately respond, prompting him to repeat himself. “I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“I… understand,” she said. Unable to take any more of this, I stopped the video. Whatever love I may have had for Ginger died as I watched her with Chad. At that point, I hated her. And him. I began to think that maybe Bill was right about her having to die.

As I processed what I saw and heard, I began to feel sick. My head throbbed and I felt nauseous. My vision began to blur and I thought I was going to throw up. I made my way to the second bathroom, which was just across the hall. Leaning against the bathroom counter, I looked at myself in the mirror.

My face was beet red. My eyes had also turned red and the gold specks were actually pulsating — flashing. I could see my temples throbbing. The pain and pressure in my head got worse with each passing second. I screwed my eyes shut and turned around, half sitting on the bathroom counter facing the shower.

When I opened my eyes, I felt something rush out of my head with such a force that it nearly knocked me over. I saw the thick shower doors shatter, shards of glass filling the shower stall inside. What the fuck just happened, I asked myself.

When my vision cleared, I saw thick smoke filling the upper half of the bathroom and quickly turned on the overhead fan to clear it before the smoke alarm in the hall went off. The shower door was destroyed and the inside of the shower looked singed. Terrific, I thought.

I realized the pain and pressure in my head was gone and turned to inspect myself in the mirror. My face was no longer red, and my eyes were now blue. The gold specks had also stopped pulsating. I washed my face, then began cleaning up the broken glass. My phone buzzed when I finished sweeping up the last of the glass shards. I looked and saw it was Ginger.

“What?” I asked when I answered my phone.

“Um, it’s me, Ginger,” she said, sounding scared.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I’m just letting you know that I’m leaving work now and I’m on my way home,” she said.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. We have a lot to discuss when you get here,” I said.

“I know,” she said. “Cam, please know that I really do love you.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” I said.

“Don’t you love me?” she asked. I could hear a sob in her voice.

“We’ll talk about that when you get home,” I said, trying to keep my anger in check. Ginger wisely chose not to push the issue.

“O… Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah. See you soon,” I said before ending the call. I put the phone back in my pocket and thought about the situation. I knew I would have to keep my temper under control around Ginger. I shuddered to think what would’ve happened if she had been standing where those shower doors were when I… exploded.

It was clear to me that Wheeler had something on Ginger and was using it to control her. But what? I also observed that Ginger’s attitude toward me had changed somewhat in the last 24 hours. Over the course of the last several months she had become an unbearable shrew. But lately, she almost seemed contrite. Did something happen recently to brought about that change?

I knew the answers were in her memories, now stored on my computer. But I was hesitant to look, concerned that it would spark another episode. I knew that Ginger would be home within the next half hour, so I decided to make a fresh pot of coffee and use the time to relax.

I waited for her to walk through the door, and I began to get a bit nervous when she hadn’t shown up after forty-five minutes. Maybe she stopped at the store to bring something home, I thought. When an hour had passed, she still hadn’t shown up. I called her cell but it went straight to voicemail. I began to wonder if maybe she decided to blow me off and go out with Chad or her girl friends.

Another half hour passed and I still hadn’t heard anything, so I tried her cell phone again, but my call went straight to voicemail. I started pacing back and forth, coffee cup in hand, wondering what was taking her so long. After about a half-hour, my doorbell rang. I answered to find a uniformed police officer standing there.

“Yes, officer, what can I do for you?” I asked.

“I’m Officer Chandler with Metro PD, sir. Are you related to a Ms. Ginger Drake?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m her husband,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry to inform you sir, your wife was in an accident and is currently at Mercy General Hospital,” he said.

“Is she alright?” I asked.

“I don’t know, sir. You’ll have to ask the doctors at the hospital about that,” he said. “Do you need me to take you there or can you drive?”

“I can drive, officer,” I said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome sir,” he said. “I’ll escort you there if that’s alright. Just follow me.”

“Thank you, officer, that would be great,” I said. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. Officer Chandler was already back in his patrol car, his lights flashing. I stayed as close to him as I could. It wasn’t easy, given that he was driving much faster than the speed limit, his lights and sirens alerting drivers to get out of the way. I jumped out of my car when we got there and thanked Officer Chandler, shaking his hand.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Drake,” he said. “And I hope everything works out for you.” I ran into the emergency room and identified myself. A few minutes later, I was met by a doctor and two police officers, a sergeant and another man in plain clothes. After the introductions, they escorted me to the ICU, where Ginger was located.

“Mr. Drake, I’m afraid your wife took a pretty bad blow to the head and is currently in a coma,” Dr. Samuels said. “There were a few other injuries, but those were fairly minor. Frankly, she’s lucky to be alive.”

“How long do you think she’ll be in a coma?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s hard to say,” he told me. “She could be out for a few days, a few weeks, or maybe even a few months. It’s really too soon to say. We’ll just have to keep an eye on her. By the way, do you know if she has a DNR — a ‘do not resuscitate’ order?”

“As far as I know, she doesn’t,” I said. He nodded his head, making a note to himself.

The plainclothes officer — Detective Black — spoke up next.

“Mr. Drake, did you disable the airbags in your wife’s car?” he asked.

“What? No, why do you ask?” I was shocked at the implication of his question. The sergeant spoke up.

“Your wife ran a red light at the intersection of Fifth and Main at a high rate of speed,” he said. “She slammed into the side of a garbage truck. Her air bags never deployed and her brakes weren’t working.”

“We’re going over her vehicle now, Mr. Drake,” Detective Black said. “Tell me, were there any problems in your marriage?”

“Well,” I said nervously, “I just learned she had been having an affair. She called me at 5:00 to say she was coming home. We were going to discuss the issue tonight.”

“I see,” Det. Black said as he made notes in his pad. “When did you learn of this affair?”

“She admitted it to me last night,” I said. “But I never touched her car. I’ve been out of pocket for nearly a week myself.”

“That’s right, you’re the fellow who got hit by lightning last week over at the golf course. I remember reading about that,” he said.

“That’s right,” I said. “My parents took me home this morning. You can check with Dr. Simpson. He can verify that.”

“I will, Mr. Drake. And do you know who was it your wife had an affair with?” he asked.

“Chad Wheeler,” I said. “One of her bosses at Nationwide Financial Services downtown.” He wrote as I spoke.

“Just so you know, Mr. Drake, we’re investigating this as a possible crime,” he said. “I’ll verify your alibi, and I’ll need to speak with you more soon. I suggest you remain in town until our investigation is complete.” I heard something else: “Ten to one this is our guy. Probably heard about the affair and had someone fuck up her car. We’ll get him, eventually.”

“I’m off work all next week,” I told him. “Anytime you wish to talk, just let me know.”

“I’ll do that, Mr. Drake,” he said, handing me a business card. “We’ll be in touch. Good luck, and I hope your wife recovers soon.” His mouth never moved, but I heard, “Bastard” in his mind.

“Thank you,” I said before they walked off. I turned to Dr. Samuels. “Can I see her now?” I asked. He nodded his head.

“Of course,” he said, leading me to her room. When I got there, I was taken back by her appearance. She was fully in focus, her head and much of her body covered in bandages. She was connected to monitoring equipment and an IV tube was in one arm. A ventilator tube was in her mouth, and I could hear the machine as it breathed for her. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep. I walked to the side of her bed and looked down at her.

“Why, Ginger?” I asked quietly. “Why did you have to do this?” I didn’t expect an answer, but I knew her memories held the key. I wasn’t sure if I could extract any memories with her being in a coma, but I thought I’d try anyway. I took one hand in mine and held it tight. I felt the initial spark, then a slight tingling in my head as her most recent memories came to me.

I stayed there with her for a while, not sure if she would be able to detect my presence. Seeing her in the bed like that, I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. I still had questions and I was still quite pissed at her. I tried to read her thoughts, but got nothing. I didn’t really expect to hear anything, but I thought I’d try anyway.

I stayed with her for a while, thinking about what Detective Black told me. I began to wonder if Chad had something to do with this. If he did, would he try to finish the job later? I bent down and whispered in her ear.

“If Chad did this to you, I will find out. And I will make him pay,” I told her. I didn’t know how I would make him pay, but that was a question for another day. “Get well,” I said, giving her a kiss on her cheek. I left the room and went to the nurse’s station. An attractive brunette in scrubs came over to me.

“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” she asked.

“Can you please make sure that only close family members visit Mrs. Drake?” I asked.

“Of course, we can do that,” she said, making a note on her computer.

“Thank you,” I said before leaving. When I got home, I called both my parents and hers, letting them know what happened to Ginger. They were upset to hear that she was in the hospital, and promised to visit her. After speaking with them, I realized I was starving, so I made a sandwich out of Mom’s meatloaf and wolfed it down. From there, I headed to my computer.

I downloaded Ginger’s most recent memories and waited for the processing to complete. Then I selected the most recent day — today — and hit play. I fast-forwarded to a point where I saw her enter Chad’s office.

“Well, are we on for tonight?” he asked.

“No, Chad, we’re not,” she said firmly. “I told you last night I’m finished with all this. I’m through being your company whore. I’ve decided to try and patch things up with Cam. Hopefully, he won’t kick me to the curb.”

“Why? He doesn’t know anything, does he?” Chad asked.

“Yes,” she said. “He figured some of it out. Worse yet, he saw us in your car. He’s got video.”

“So, he’s got video. Big deal. It doesn’t mean anything. Even if he filed for divorce, he could never use it against you. Now that he knows, we don’t need to hide it from him anymore.”

“I told you, Chad. I’m finished. No more. I love my husband and I owe it to him to make things right. I may end up divorced, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“The Board isn’t going to be happy, Ginger,” he said. “And there’s the matter of your falsified report.”

“You mean the report YOU falsified,” she said angrily. “I was able to recover my original from the cloud backup. I’ve replaced the report you filed with that one. I’ve also spoken with an attorney and I’m told I have a very good case against you.”

“You would go to the authorities, even though you would be exposed as a whore?” he asked.

“Yes, Chad,” she said. “I told you, I’m done. No more. You’ll need to find another whore for the Board and your clients.”

“This will destroy your career here,” he said.

“I don’t care. In fact, I’m giving you my two week notice. I’ll wrap up what I’m doing and transition my replacement. Then I’m gone. And if you threaten me or my husband, so help me God, I’ll go straight to the police,” she said. He nodded his head when she finished.

“Well, Ginger, I hate to see you go. You had a good run here and would’ve gone far. Good luck in your future endeavors,” he said with a smirk. She turned and stormed out of his office. I fast-forwarded the video and saw where she had called me, then continued fast-forwarding until I got close to the crash.

It was here that I saw her put her foot on the brakes, only to find they weren’t working. Frantic, she kept pumping the brake pedal, but to no avail. She pulled on the emergency brake, but that did no good, either. She saw the red light, and the truck coming into the intersection and tried to steer away from it, but the steering wheel was locked. The video ended when her car T-boned the large truck.

Angry, I turned from the screen, closed my eyes and slowly counted to ten, hoping that would keep me from destroying something else in the house. I finally calmed down and opened my eyes. I could only imagine the terror she must’ve felt, knowing that her life was close to being over.

I had a pretty good idea what had happened. Chad apparently decided to tie up loose ends by taking Ginger out, making it look like an accident. But I didn’t have concrete proof — at least not yet.

Of course, none of this let Ginger off the hook. Even if Chad had drugged or blackmailed her into a life as a whore, she could’ve — no, SHOULD HAVE — come straight to me with it. Together, we could probably have done something to put a stop to it before it started. But she didn’t. Now, she’s paying the price. And there was no way I was going to live with her as a knowing cuckold. The fly in the ointment, however, is the fact that she’s now in a coma.

I decided to keep my wedding promise to Ginger — at least the “in sickness and in health” part. Whatever I decided to do could wait until after she comes out of her coma and recovers from the accident. But Wheeler? Something had to be done about him, no question about it.

I wondered about approaching Detective Black with what I knew, but rejected that out of hand. What was I going to say? ‘Oh, detective, I have videos from my wife’s memories…’ Yeah, right. That would get me a one-way trip straight to the funny farm, I thought.

There was always the possibility the detective would eventually figure it out. But as screwed up as the legal system is, there was also a very good chance Wheeler would walk away free as a bird. It was clear that I would have to be the one to deal with him. But how? I grabbed the book, popped open a beer and sat on the couch.

When I opened the book, I found another section had been translated into English. This part dealt with self defense. I smiled as I turned the pages. I couldn’t wait to see what was possible. I read for a couple hours, my curiosity more than piqued. Eventually, I felt myself getting extremely tired, so I grabbed a pillow and a blanket and crashed on the couch.

The next morning, I woke up, showered in the master bathroom, dressed and sat at my computer to check my emails and catch up on the news. I had to be at Drew’s office in the afternoon to go over the agreement, so that meant I could swing by Ginger’s work this morning. I would then go see Drew and stop by to visit Ginger on my way home.

I got to the building where she worked and headed up to the 17^th floor. The company she worked for occupied the top three floors of the building and I knew she worked on the 16^th floor. Chad’s office was on the top floor. I walked into his suite as though I owned the place. His receptionist, an attractive redhead, looked up when I came in.

Chad was standing directly behind her. Both of them exhibited the same anaglyph effect I had seen with Ginger, but the effect was so pronounced with Chad that it was a bit difficult to tell which of the overlapping figures was really him.

“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” the woman asked.

“Where are your manners, Lisa?” Chad chided. “This is Cameron Drake, Ginger’s husband.” I had never personally met the man so I was a bit surprised he knew who I was. He stepped around the desk and extended a hand. “I’ve seen your picture on her desk and she talks about you a lot,” he said with a smirk. “So, this is the cuck,” I heard him say in his mind. “What the fuck is the deal with his eyes, anyway?”

I nodded my head and took his hand. I felt the spark as we made contact, and could tell he felt it as well. Then I felt the tingle in my head as his memories were downloaded into my brain. When the download had completed a few seconds later, I released his hand.

“I suppose you’re here to explain why Ginger isn’t at work this morning,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “She was in an accident last night and she’s in the hospital in a coma.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I’ll have to stop by sometime and see her.”

“I’ve instructed the hospital that only close family members are allowed to see her,” I said.

“Oh? Is there a problem with me seeing her?” he asked.

“As her medical proxy, it’s my decision,” I said. “I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone else.”

“I see,” he said. “Do they suspect foul play or something?”

“It hasn’t been ruled out,” I told them. I saw his face change slightly. “Her airbags didn’t deploy for some reason.”

“Interesting,” he said. “Fucking Antonio screwed up,” I heard him say in his mind. “I’ll have to kick his ass for that. He swore it would be handled.”

“I thought so,” I said. I heard him swear in his mind, then: “I’ll have to get Antonio to watch this guy. The last thing I need is a pissed-off husband coming after me. And there’s something about this guy…”

“Well, I hope she gets better soon,” he finally said with a smirk.

“As do I,” I told him. “I suppose I should speak to your HR manager. Can you tell me where the HR office is, please?”

“Two floors down, take a right when you get off the elevator and follow the signs,” Lisa said.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I trust you’ll keep us in the loop,” Chad said.

“I will,” I said. “Good day.”

“Take care, and I hope Ginger gets well soon,” he said. I nodded my head.

“Me too,” I said before leaving the office.

“Did you see his eyes?” I heard Lisa ask Chad after I was in the hall. “What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” Chad said. “Kinda freaky if you ask me.” I smiled to myself as I made my way to the elevator. I followed Lisa’s directions and found the HR office. I stepped in and asked to speak to the HR manager. A somewhat older woman came out and introduced herself.

“I’m Georgia Hamilton, the HR manager. What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Cameron Drake. I’m Ginger Drake’s husband. I came by to inform you that she’s in the hospital and may be there for a while,” I said.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Drake. Please, step into my office,” she said. I followed her and sat down in a chair across from the desk from hers. “So, how long will she be in the hospital?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Hamilton,” I said, seeing her wedding ring. “She was in an accident after leaving work yesterday and she’s in a coma. There’s no telling how long she’ll be out.”

“That’s horrible,” she said. I saw her pull up Ginger’s file on her computer. “And what may we do for you?”

“I came by to inform you. I just want to make sure there won’t be any problems with her employment or her insurance coverage,” I said.

“Well, I can’t get into specifics, but I assure you she has accrued quite a bit of sick time. She still has her vacation, so her employment status won’t be a problem. If she’s still in the hospital after using that time up, we can put her on a paid leave of absence for medical reasons. Her insurance coverage will remain in effect. Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s it,” I said.

“Which hospital is she in?” Georgia asked.

“Mercy General,” I said.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to do a little something for her, maybe get everyone to pitch in for some flowers or something,” she said. “We think the world of Ginger here.”

“No, I don’t mind,” I said.

“Please let us know how she’s doing, Mr. Drake,” Georgia said. I could tell she was genuinely concerned, so I smiled as I nodded my head.

“I will. Thank you for your time,” I said. I left and stopped at a diner to eat before my meeting with Drew. When I got to his office, I was escorted right in. He stood and shook my hand before we sat down to business.

“Good to see you back on your feet,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing okay,” I told him.

“You look a bit… different than the last time I saw you,” he said.

“I feel different,” I said.

“So, how are things going?” he asked. I told him about Ginger’s accident and her current condition. “I’m sorry to hear that she’s in the hospital,” he said. “I take it you want to put a hold on things until she’s back on her feet.”

“I think that’s the best course of action right now,” I said. “And there’s the possibility I’ll probably go for the divorce when she recovers.”

“I see,” he said. “You learned something since we spoke last?”

“I have,” I said. “And it’s worse than I initially thought.”

“And there’s no way past it?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“Alright, well let me know what you decide, Mr. Drake,” he said. “I’ll keep this agreement in your file and we’ll revisit things when she recovers.”

“Thank you, Mr. Henson,” I said. I left his office and headed for Mercy General to see Ginger.

“How is she?” I asked the nurse when I got to the ICU.

“Her condition hasn’t changed,” the nurse said. “We’re going to be moving her to another ward in a couple days. You can go in and see her if you want.”

“Thank you,” I said. I went into Ginger’s room and sat down next to her. I took her hand in mine and wondered if there was anything going on in her head. When I clasped her hand, there was no spark and I tried to detect any thoughts that might be running around in her mind, but couldn’t. I leaned in close and spoke to her, but didn’t know if anything would get through to her.

“Ginger, I’m pretty certain Chad was behind your accident. I think he wanted you dead. I’ll deal with that. I know he had something on you, and I know he used you. I don’t know the extent of what he did, yet, but I will find out. I wish to God you had come to me with this when it first happened. Why didn’t you trust me enough to talk to me about this? There was no need for you to prostitute yourself.”

I didn’t expect an answer but listened for anything that might indicate that what I said registered with her on some level. I heard nothing and after a few minutes, I gave her a kiss on her forehead and stood up.

“I’ll stop by and see you later, Ginger,” I said. “Get well.” I left her room and headed home, feeling both anger and sorrow. Anger at Chad and yes, at Ginger as well. Sorrow, primarily for what Ginger had done to our marriage, but also for seeing her in a coma. Yes, I wanted her to pay, but not with her life.

I got home and immediately went to my computer, where I downloaded Chad’s memories. I grabbed a cup of coffee as the application processed what had been in my mind. When it was finished, I selected the day of Ginger’s accident and fast-forwarded to the point just after she walked out of his office. When the door closed behind Ginger, he pulled out his cell phone and made a call.

“Antonio, Wheeler here. Ginger’s flying the coop… Yes, can you make it look like an accident? Good. You know what she drives. Make it happen… Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a good bonus… Don’t worry about the Board. I’ll take care of that. You just do what you gotta do… The husband? We’ll deal with him later, but only if he gets suspicious. Just make sure she doesn’t walk away from the accident, you hear me? Just get it done,” he said before ending the call.

I had an idea and changed the perspective to “First Person,” then replayed the video. This time, I saw the number Chad dialed and made a note of it. I also heard Antonio’s side of the conversation, confirming his role in Ginger’s “accident.”

I now knew the truth. Chad intended for Ginger to die in that accident. Antonio successfully sabotaged her car, fully expecting her to die in the crash, and he almost succeeded. And it appeared the company’s Board of Directors — or at least some of the members — sanctioned Chad’s actions.

Worse yet, I remembered Chad saying he would have this Antonio guy watching me. Was I next on his hit list? I knew I couldn’t very well see Chad every day to download his memories, but I couldn’t think of any way to get more information short of hiring a private investigator. Maybe there was an answer in the book those two men left me, I thought.

I grabbed the book, warmed up my coffee and sat down on the couch in the living room to read. I noticed that more of the book had automatically translated itself since the last time I opened it. I spent some time in the manual, and by dinnertime I learned that once I had established a mental link with someone, I no longer needed to be in physical contact to keep track of the target. I couldn’t download the memory remotely, but I could watch and listen.

I decided to give that a try and followed the directions in the manual. Sure enough, I was able to make contact with Chad, and was able to see what he saw and hear what he heard, almost as if I was him. At that particular moment, he was in a small bar, talking to a burly man with short curly hair.

“Boss, I did what you said,” the man explained. “When they pulled her out of the wreckage I thought she was dead.” Apparently, this was Antonio.

“Alright, Antonio,” Chad said, confirming my suspicions. “I hear ya. It’s alright. She’s in a coma in Mercy General right now.”

“Maybe we should go in and finish it, eh, boss?” Antonio said.

“No, her husband has left instructions that only family can see her,” Chad said. “She’s not going anywhere. I do want you to keep tabs on him, though. Something about him really bugs the shit outta me. Here’s a picture of him.” He handed Antonio the picture Ginger kept on her desk. “The only difference is his eyes. They’re a strange shade of blue and they have two gold spots in them. You can’t miss him.”

“So this is the wimpy cuck. We gonna take him out as well, boss?” Antonio asked as he took the picture.

“Not yet. Not unless he gets too close to the truth. And don’t underestimate him. I have a really bad feeling about him. I can’t explain it, but something tells me he’s no wimp,” Chad said.

“Yeah, sure, boss,” Antonio said with a smirk. “But he is a cuck, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. Still, you be extra careful,” Chad said.

“Okay, boss, I’ll get one of the guys to watch him with me. And if he gets too froggy, ol’ Betsy here can take care of him,” he said, patting his jacket where he kept a pistol in a shoulder harness. Chad shook his head.

“No gunplay, Antonio,” he said. “The last thing I want are the cops coming down on us.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Antonio said with a smile.

“Go on, get outta here, ya bum,” Chad said, smiling. “You got work to do.”

“On it, boss,” he said as he got up. Chad took a drink from his beer and focused on a leggy blonde sitting at another table by herself. I ended the connection and thought about what had just transpired. I considered calling Detective Black, but again, what was I gonna say? “Oh, I found out about this by mentally linking with Chad’s brain?” Yeah, right.

I warmed up the rest of Mom’s meatloaf and a can of green beans, then sat down to eat, thinking about my options. At least now I know what Antonio looks like and could keep an eye out for him. But what do I do if he makes a move on me? Would he actually try to break into my house, or sabotage my car?

I also considered letting someone know of my secret, but there were only two people, well actually three, people I trusted enough with something like this — Bill and my parents. The only problem was, letting them know at this point could put them all in danger from Chad’s goons, and I wasn’t prepared to do that. So, I dismissed that notion, at least for now. I had already thought about calling the police, but again, that would require me to tell them how I know what I know.

I could just sit here and wait for them to move against me, but I dismissed that idea as well. No, I decided, I would have to take control of the situation and move against them first. Perhaps the book could give me some ideas.

After I ate, I sat back down with the manual and read further. The more I read, the more I learned about what I was capable of doing. I also learned that I could gauge the thoughts of the person’s memory by using the headset the two men left me as I watched the video. As I read, ideas began coming to me. When I finished reading what had been translated, I went back to my computer and started going through Chad’s and Ginger’s memories, this time with the headset in place.

I didn’t look at a whole lot, but I learned that Chad had organized several gangbangs for Ginger, and from the way she responded, she seemed to enjoy herself. Toward the end, she even looked forward to being made airtight — with cocks in all of her holes at once. And she never gave any thought to what I might think. That explained her attitude toward me.

I noticed that Antonio and some of his goons had participated in a few of them. There were some others there as well that I thought I recognized.

I paused the video and brought up the site for Ginger’s company. I looked through the biographies on the site and hit pay dirt. As I suspected, some of those screwing Ginger were members of the Board of Directors. I made note of that, and continued reviewing the memories, skipping through the worse to keep my temper under control. As it was, I had to stop several times and count to ten to keep my head from exploding.

From what I could tell, Chad initially used drugs and blackmail to get Ginger’s cooperation, but as time went on, he no longer needed to coerce her, as she became a willing participant, even putting me down as her lovers jackhammered their cocks into her more than willing pussy.

By the time I finished watching, it was just after 10:00 pm. My anger was about to boil over and I knew I had to take action, and I knew I had to do it right away. I went back through Chad’s memory files and found what I was looking for — his private cell phone number. I dialed the number and heard it ring. To my surprise, he answered it after the second ring.

“Hello? Who is this?” he asked angrily. I knew he was in a parking lot of an upscale nightclub with Lisa.

“Cameron Drake,” I said.

“How did you get this number? Did Ginger give it to you?”

“I got it from your own memory. Now, ditch Lisa and listen good,” I said.

“How do you know Lisa is with me? Are you following me?” he asked.

“I don’t need to follow you, asshole,” I said. “I know what you did to Ginger. I know you set her up. I also know you drugged her and blackmailed her and I know you turned her into your company whore. And I also know you tried to kill her.”

“Okay, so what are you gonna do about it, cuck?” he asked. “Call the cops? Ha! They won’t believe a word you say.”

“Meet me at Riverside Park at midnight,” I said. “No need to tell you to come alone, because I know you’ll have Antonio and his goons with you no matter what I say. That’s fine with me. The more the merrier.”

“Riverside Park. Midnight. Okay, we’ll be there. Just don’t expect to walk away, though, cuck,” he said, laughing.

“I’ll see you then,” I said, ending the call. Connecting to his mind, I saw him look at Lisa before speaking.

“Who was that, baby?” Lisa asked.

“Ginger’s husband,” he said. “Somehow, he got my number. Listen, I gotta go take care of business. I’ll see you later, okay? Go on home and I’ll be in touch.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked.

“Of course, now just go!”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your undies in a wad. I’m going. You’d better call me, though,” she said.

“Yeah, I will,” he told her. “You may want to call for a ride. I have to go meet someone.”

“Alright, I’ll get an Uber,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.” She pulled out her phone and I made a note of her number. As she called for a ride, he pulled out his cell and called Antonio.

“Antonio, the cuck called me. Get Steve and meet me at Riverside Park at midnight,” he said. “You wanted to take him out. You’ll get your chance tonight.”

“Okay, boss,” Antonio said. “On my way.” He ended the call and put his phone away. “The fucker’s gonna fucking die,” he said, mostly to himself. I disconnected from his mind and steeled myself for the coming confrontation. I went through the manual one more time to make sure I had the directions right. I poured myself another cup of coffee and waited.

It would take me about 45 minutes to get to Riverside Park. I purposefully selected that as it was on the edge of town and would be deserted by now. I also knew there were no surveillance cameras or CCTV in the area.

I left the condo, double-checking to make sure the door was locked. When I was a couple blocks from the park, I reconnected with Chad’s mind to find out where he and his thugs were located. I parked the car and made my way to the clearing where the three of them stood. They turned when I stepped into the clearing.

“Well, the wimpy cuck shows his face,” Chad said with a smirk on his face. “You do realize you’re gonna die tonight.”

“We all die, Chad,” I said.

“Yes, we do,” he said. “But before you die, know this. Your wife gave herself to me willingly. Said my cock went places yours never could.”

“And how many times did you have to drug her to get her to say that, Chad?” I asked. “Yes, I know you drugged her, at first, anyway. I also know you blackmailed her. And yes, you turned her into a slut. Then you tried to murder her. How many others have you destroyed? Or have you lost count?” His face turned red at that point. He looked at Antonio and nodded his head. “Go ahead, take out the trash, will ya?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Antonio said with a smirk. He reached for his pistol, but it never got out of his holster. The center of his chest exploded, bits of bone and heart muscle shooting out a good ten feet in front of him. Antonio’s eyes went wide and he fell back onto the ground.

His eyes wide, Chad nodded to the other goon, Steve. Steve went for his gun, but his head suddenly exploded, showering Chad with blood, bone and brain matter. Chad pissed his pants as Steve’s headless body fell to the ground. He looked at me, eyes wide with fear. That’s when he saw that my eyes had turned a deep red. He fell to his knees.

“What are you?” he stammered.

“I’m a pissed-off husband getting my revenge on a slimy piece of shit, that’s what I am,” I told him. He shook his head and actually put his hands together.

“Please,” he begged. “Don’t kill me. I’m begging you.”

“Now you’re begging me,” I said. “You were pretty cocky just a few seconds ago. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

“B… Because I’m begging?” he asked. “You wouldn’t kill an unarmed man, would you?”

“I said a good reason,” I told him. “You’re not a man. You’re a scum-sucking putrid piece of dog shit. I could destroy your body with a single thought. But I’ll give you one chance to do the right thing for humanity.”

“What? Anything. I’ll do anything you say. Please. Just don’t kill me,” he begged. I nodded my head.

“Okay. Take Steve’s gun there and blow your own dick off,” I said. “Don’t even think of pointing it at me or it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

“You expect me to shoot my own dick off?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “You did say you’d do anything to keep me from killing you. You never said anything about killing yourself.” He looked at Steve’s gun, still in its holster. He reached out for it and I watched him pick it up. I halfway expected him to turn it on me, but I was prepared and gently nudged his arm muscles, forcing him to put the barrel into his own trousers, against the base of his penis.

He looked at me with wide, scared eyes as he pulled the hammer back. He hesitated for a moment and shook his head.

“Please,” he cried. “I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again. Don’t make me do this.” Flexing my eye muscles, I forced my eyes to flash a bright red.

“You’re right. You’ll never fuck another man’s wife ever again. Do. It,” I commanded. “NOW!” I heard the report and saw the flash. Then I saw the blood seep into the front of his trousers and he fell to the ground, trembling. I looked at his shirt pocket and saw his phone. Knowing that a record of my call would be on the phone, I melted it with a flash of my eyes.

His trembling became more pronounced and I knew he wouldn’t last very long. I considered putting him out of his misery, but decided he had earned the pain he was feeling, so I did nothing and watched as he took his last breath. I turned and went back to my car.

The enormity of what I had done hit about halfway home and I pulled over. I killed two men with the force of my mind and made another man kill himself. I felt my stomach heave, so I quickly opened the door and threw up on the side of the road. Twice. I washed my mouth out with some coffee I had in the car, and headed home, my mind reeling and my hands shaking.

I threw up again after I got home and wondered what I had become. Four days ago, I would never have considered doing what I had just done. Worse yet, there was no one I could talk to, no one who could possibly understand what I had been through.

Then I heard my doorbell ring. Surely the police hadn’t caught up to me so fast, I thought. I made my way to the door and looked through the peephole. I saw the two men from that preservation society and opened the door. They came in without being invited and quickly closed the door behind them.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had to leave,” I said.

“You have progressed much further and faster than we anticipated,” one of them said. “We monitored your encounter in the park and returned to help you.”

“Taking life in a combat situation is nothing new for us, but we realize this is something new for you, and you have not been adequately prepared for the experience,” the second man said. The first man pulled out another headset and placed it on me.

“Relax. This device will calm your nerves and help you cope with your actions,” he said. I relaxed as he said and found myself feeling calmer. After a couple minutes, my body had stopped trembling and I no longer felt anxious.

“Better,” the first man said. “Keep this device as you may have need of it in the future.”

“What have you done to me?” I asked.

“We have made you the man you were meant to be,” he said. “This is what you are now. Your abilities will grow and mature over time. You have only begun to scratch the surface of what you are truly capable of doing. The manual we left will help guide you through the transition. Now, let’s review and see what we can learn.”

“The first two kills were clearly self defense,” the second man said. “You acted quickly, decisively. They felt nothing. The third, however, was something entirely different.”

“Yes,” the first man interjected. “That was clearly a case of revenge, wasn’t it?”

“He destroyed my marriage, tried to kill my wife,” I said.

“Yes, he did,” the first man said. “But he was on his knees, begging for his life. You could very easily have extracted a much greater price from him. Perhaps forced him to live in pain for the rest of his miserable existence. But you didn’t do that. You were too overcome by the desire for vengeance, and that clouded your judgment. You do realize he wasn’t the only one involved in the destruction of your marriage, right?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, nodding my head. “His Board of Directors were also involved.”

“Correct. And they will simply replace him with another like him, and they will continue as before.” The second man spoke up.

“Do not let this hinder you, however,” he said. “Use it as a learning experience.”

“The police will certainly discover their bodies,” I said. “How do I handle that?”

“Their bodies have already been disintegrated,” the first man said. “Even their DNA has been eradicated. As far as your authorities will be concerned, they simply went missing. But understand that we will not always be here to clean up after you.”

“I understand,” I said. “And thanks,” I added.

“You are welcome,” the second man said. “Next time, though, think before you act.”

“I will,” I said. They stood and left without a word. I kept the device on my head and found myself relaxing even more. Soon, I was fast asleep on the couch.

The next morning, I woke up, still in the clothes I wore last night. I began to wonder if it was all a nightmare, and tried reaching out to Chad’s mind, but it was gone. The strange headset was on the couch where I had slept. Apparently, it had gotten knocked off my head sometime in the night.

I got up, did my morning business, showered and dressed. I came back and fixed a cup of coffee and grabbed a frozen waffle. I felt much better than I did last night. I certainly didn’t feel any guilt about what I had made Chad do to himself, but I realized the error of my actions.

Oh, well, I thought to myself. Live and learn. After breakfast, I left the condo and headed for the hospital. When I got there, I went to see Ginger. Her condition hadn’t changed. I sat down next to her and tried to connect to her mind, but was unable to.

“Just so you know, Ginger, Chad won’t be bothering you anymore. You and I, however, still have some unresolved issues to deal with, but I’ll wait until you recover. Talk to you later,” I said. I left her room and went to the nurse’s station, where I saw Nurse Judy.

“Well, hello, Mr. Drake,” she said. “You’re looking rather chipper this morning. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks to you,” I said.

“I see you came by to talk to your wife,” she said. “We’ll be moving her in a day or two.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“So, what can I do for you today?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight,” I said.

“Dinner? Is that all?”

“Well…” I began.

“Just so you know, I don’t sleep with married men,” she said, pointing to my wedding ring. “Unless, of course, they happen to be married to me.”

“Of course,” I said. “I just thought it’d be nice to have dinner with a friend, a way to say thanks for helping me recover.”

“Okay, friend, dinner and maybe a drink or two to say thanks would be nice. But that’s all. I get off at five. You can pick me up at six,” she said. “Here’s my address.” She handed me a slip of paper with her address, which I put in my pocket.

“I’ll see you at six,” I said. We said our goodbyes and I headed out. Yes, I thought, things are looking good.

…

More to come…