Jules Hinton's Strange Trip: Chapter 14 by JCH and Kas They drove to the North Carolina-Tennessee line, each taking turns, stopping only long enough to eat, gas up the car and stretch their legs. Bishopville was just a day away. But now they had to stop. They had to get a hotel room if for nothing else other than to take a quick shower and, maybe, a couple of hours of sleep in an actual bed. Jules was the one to bring the idea up. He also said he wanted them to stay in the same room when Nikki had asked. He didn't want to have to explain to her that the reason was simple: That he didn't know if he could trust her to stay in a room alone. He didn't know what she might try, but thought it best if he kept an eye on her.
Jules also said he wanted an actual meal, not the variety available at any convenience store or fast food place. He said his family should be safe, provided they had followed his advice. He even called Tim again, but got the voice mail. It was the message they had used forever: "Hello, you have reached 555-9596. We can't take your call, but if you leave a message at the beep, one of us will surely call you back." It was his own voice.
When they had first got in the room, Nikki had asked that he let her take the first shower. She had hesitated a moment before she went into the bathroom, a moment when Jules thought she was going to suggest that he join her. He looked at her as he picked up the phone beside the bed until she turned around and disappeared behind the door. He placed the call.
"Mrs. Hinton's office."
"Hi, this is her son, Jules. Is she in by chance?"
"Ah, Jules. Haven't heard from you in a while. How's the trip going?"
"It's going fine. Is she in?"
"I'm sorry. She's gone for a few days. Canceled all her classes and left on the spur-of-the-moment. Didn't even tell me where where she was going or when she'd be back. I figured she and the husband were going somewhere. Can I take a message?"
"No, that's fine. But thanks." He hung up the phone, feeling a little better. Obviously, Tim had convinced her and his father to get out of town for a few days. Jules hoped he would sleep better knowing this.They ate at a cafeteria near the hotel where they were staying. The meal was again filled with the uncomfortable silence that had set in for long periods of time since that night where Private Plantations had never been in this reality. Jules wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel for this woman now. To go from the bliss he felt that day beside the lake to the anger he had felt just a few hours later... Well, he didn't understand it at all. He had drawn the gun on her when he didn't know what the sound in the woods was. And had left the gun trained on her after he could clearly see that it was her.
He had been so angry that night that at times he thought he was losing control. But why shouldn't he under the circumstances he had found himself in? He was a sane man in an insane situation. That was what he had been telling himself to help himself get through it. What had Nikki said? It was a wonderful thing? Well, he had been wanting to find a way to escape the reality that his life had turned into. And he had found it. Literally. But the reality he had found was hell. Poetic justice, he supposed. If there were such a thing.
He had a sudden thought which he voiced to Nikki. "If I'm having this much trouble accepting this, how did the other Jules accept it like he did? He seems to have embraced it early on."
"I don't know," Nikki replied. "I think it happened by accident. He never was too clear on that. But he's a smart man. That's one thing the two of you have in common. It's not like he's some trailer park trash or anything. He went to school like you did, majored in biochemistry, if I remember right."
Jules suppressed a laugh. Biochemistry had been an early choice of his own to major in. He brought himself back when he realized Nikki was still talking. "Just because he's a criminal doesn't mean he's a common one. Obviously, he isn't. He's studied this. He knows about as much on this as he can know, I think. Said that all he did in jail was read. He even wrote Stephen Hawking a letter about something. I'm telling you this because if you think he's just a dumb crook, you're wrong."
"That's what I don't understand. If the two worlds are so similar, how am I so different from him?"
"That's a good question. But you must remember that we are who we are by what we experience to a certain extent. And by the choices we make. Or, in some cases, the mistakes we make. Just think about the Nikki in this world. We aren't too much alike either. Maybe it was just one thing that led him on this path. Maybe something little like being caught smoking a cigarette as a young boy, and the way his parents looked at him after that. There's no way to know really.
"But," she continued. "There are a lot of differences between you and him. For one thing, his father is still alive, but his mother isn't. So, in his world, there is no Tim." She went to correct herself quickly. "I mean, there is, I guess, but not like you know him. Obviously, if his mother is dead, then she couldn't have remarried. So the Jules of that world doesn't know the Tim of that world. Or not like you and the Tim of this world know one another anyway."
But Jules had not heard much after the mention of his father. His step-dad was a good man; he had no problem with him. But the man knew he could never take place of the father Jules had never known. Jules often wondered what his father would be like. Would the man be proud of Jules? Such questions were useless exercises, of course. But he still wondered.
"Whatever made him change, though," Nikki went on to say. "It must have been profound. Something I'll never understand. And I don't know if I would want to. Let the police psychiatrists wade through the murk when they get the chance."
"You're assuming they'll get the chance. I hope you're right."They went to sleep as soon as they got back to the room. Well, Nikki got to sleep sooner than he did; his mind was racing and he almost wished he had bought something to make him sleep better. Both were dead tired from the last few days. It seemed as though they had been on the go since leaving Private Plantations, but he felt like they weren't getting anywhere. And they had not seen The Face at all. Even though he knew The Face was real, Jules almost hoped to get another glimpse of the man just to prove to himself that he wasn't crazy. And that Nikki was telling the truth now.
But he had seen the newscast. He had seen his mug shot--not him, but the other Jules--on the screen as the girl recounted the story of the shooting of the National Guardsmen in Texas. What other proof did he need? Well, being able to control his switching would be a good start. Sensing The Face would be just as good.
An hour after going to bed, he gave up trying to get to sleep anytime soon. He pulled his jeans on, then his shoes and walked out of the room. He had seen a drink machine there earlier. 75 cents for a 12 ounce cola. Incredible. How do they get away with this highway robbery? he wondered. He paid the money nonetheless, then sat on the nearby stairs watching the traffic on the road across the parking lot. Great. The drink turned out to be warm and flat.
Virginia wasn't that far away. The thought of returning home was a bittersweet one. There were things he missed about the little hometown he had grown up in. Mostly people. But he didn't think his future was there. And, of course, he wouldn't be going there yet if there wasn't a good reason. He'd make sure his family was all right, make sure that The Face was dealt with, whatever that meant... And then what?
"You all right?"
He had not seen Nikki coming down the hall and her voice startled him. He looked at her for a moment before replying. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Mind if I join you?"
"I don't care." He didn't move over to give her any room, so she sat behind him on the steps. He didn't really want any company, but didn't want a confrontation either.
"I realized I've been trying to explain why I had lied to you, that I had been making excuses for why I had done the things I did. I know this doesn't mean much, but if I had a chance to do it over..."
He snickered. "You're right. That doesn't mean much."
"Then tell me what I can do to make you trust me again. I'd give anything if you looked at me the way you did that day beside the lake."
"I don't think there's anything you could possibly do or say, Nikki. I know you'll probably try. I mean, I can take a lot of things--and I guess I have--but this is just too much. Maybe it would be better if you realized that." He stood to walk away, to go back to the room.
"You must really hate me then."
He stopped and looked back at her. She was playing him. He knew that. Looking at him with those big, blue eyes, a sad expression painted on her face. She knew how to get to him unlike anyone he had known before. And she had known from the start. He didn't say anything. She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. Trying to strike a vulnerable pose, Jules thought
"Maybe you want to hit me. Is that it? Go ahead then. Hit me. Knock me down like he did back in Texas. Better yet, give me a black eye. Hell, give me two black eyes. I'm used to it by now."
"Nikki, I would never hit you, and you know that. First of all, it's wrong. Secondly, in this case, hitting you would suggest that at some level, I still care about you, that I still want you, even after all of the lies you've told me. But I don't. In fact, I can't stand to look at you most of the time, especially right now."
He turned on his heels, went back to the room and flipped the television on. The USA Network was showing some stupid movie about a bunch of women in bikinis running a car wash. He shouldn't have left her out there alone, he thought. She may take the car and leave without him. Or she may try to contact the other Jules. Maybe he should let her leave. Or make her leave. He walked back out of the room and looked toward the direction where they had been sitting. She wasn't there. He looked over the railing to where they had parked the car. It was still there.
He closed the door to the room and walked down the hall. Where was she? Not at the drink machine. He took the steps quickly. The office was one way. The pool was the other. The parking lot could be reached by both directions. He went toward the office. There was an old man standing behind the counter reading a newspaper. He looked up and nodded toward Jules, his facial expression never changing, then went back to the sports section.
Jules walked out into the parking lot enough to get a better look at the car, then went back the other way. The pool was empty, of course, at this time of night. But Nikki was sitting at one of the tables. There was a pay phone a couple of feet away.
"Don't tell me you were worried about me," she said. "Or maybe you thought I would take the car and split."
He sat across the table from her. "I don't hate actually you. I probably should, but I don't. The funny thing is that I thought there was something just a little off about you that day at the diner. A little too convenient, you know, that you just happened to be there. And then that night at the Horny Toad. None of it made a lot of sense, but I believed you. Maybe because I was just so lonely. Maybe because of the way that you looked. I trusted you one time, Nikki. And then when that turned out to be a lie, I trusted you again. I won't trust you a third time."
She looked down at the ripples in the pool. "I don't guess I'd trust me either, if I were in your shoes. Except that I don't have any reason to lie to you anymore. In fact, there's only one reason for me to stick around. And that's to make sure you're all right. After all of this is over, after we make sure your family is okay, and hopefully, he's either in jail or out of this world, then I'll leave. And you won't ever see me again. If that's what you want." Her eyes were moist.
He looked at the phone, then went over to it. The receiver was cold. He put it up to his ear. There was no dial tone. The phone was dead.
"Better get upstairs," he said. "I want to leave early in the morning. We should be in Virginia by the end of the day." He walked past her and up the stairs. She followed a few minutes later and climbed into bed beside him. It was some time before he was able to get any sleep.
She didn't know what to think. That was obvious to Jules as he drove through the town slowly. At each stop light, he would look long down both sides of the street. A car behind him had obviously lost patience that Jules was ever going to turn down any of these roads. The driver laid on the horn as he jerked his car to the right and passed him, cussing loudly out the window.
"Jules, what are you looking for?"
"Ah, there it is. That pawn shop -- what does the sign say? Is it open?"
"I don't know, Jules. We're not too far from Bishopville, are we? Didn't that a few miles back there say it was only seventy-five miles away? Maybe we should go ahead and get there before it gets too late."
"I know. But I've got to get some bullets. And then I have to get something to eat." Jules pulled into a parking space near the road and cut the car off. He got out of the car and started toward the door without waiting for her. He knew she'd follow. She caught up with him by the time he opened the door. He let her enter first and then stood in the door for a moment after entering, looking around the pawn shop.
Guns. Stereo equipment. Chain mesh over the windows. Guitars. He wondered where his was now. Probably in a shop not unlike this one somewhere in Texas. Nikki was already half way across the room, looking through a glass case. A pretty young woman was looking at her from a desk behind the counter. Jules walked toward the gun display case, to where a white-haired man was talking to a man in his early thirties. When he got up to the counter, he could see that the man's face was badly scarred. Jules looked quickly back into the gun case, waiting patiently for the men to finish.
When Jules glanced back over at Nikki, she was already paying the woman for what looked like a pair of handcuffs. He didn't say anything, but felt his face go red suddenly. He assumed they were for the Face. But the other woman wouldn't know that.
"I got them, honey," Nikki said, holding the handcuffs up and dangling them with a huge grin on her face. The woman behind the counter was trying not to smile. He couldn't hear the men talking behind him. They were probably staring too.
"Okay... hon... uh, does she have any of these bullets?" Jules took one of the nine millimeter bullets out of his pocket and sat it on the counter in front of the woman. "Go ahead and give me an extra clip or two."
The girl behind the counter eyed him for a moment, then got what he needed. He paid for everything, then he and Nikki walked out of the store.
"There's a place to eat right down the street called Ellen C.'s Bar and Grill. We can walk there." He turned and began down the street and Nikki followed suit. Something was different. Many of the stores he remembered were gone, either closed or replaced by hair styling salons or left standing empty. Just like Bishopville, which had become infamous in the area for letting its uptown go down. Before the formation of its historical society, many buildings were considered too unsafe to let keep standing. Others would cost too much to rebuild according to the city leaders. So they would simply tear them down and create parking spaces for the other buildings, something they already had too much of as it was. Jules wondered if that was what had happened in this case.
They came to Ellen C.'s and walked inside. There were more people than Jules would have thought by the number of cars outside. Then he realized that the college wasn't too far away. Most of the people, at a glance, were of that age. An attractive black girl came up. "Smoking or non?"
"Doesn't matter. Whatever's available."
The girl took a look at the seating chart and then led them back through the tables. There was an interesting photograph of an old train, a steam engine and passenger cars, on the wall overlooking their booth. In fact, most of the pictures on the wall were of trains, not only of steam engines, but of diesels as well.
"We haven't really talked about it, Jules," Nikki said in a low voice, not glancing up from her menu. "But what are you going to do? I mean, when we get into Bishopville?"
"What do you mean? Him? Well, I guess if he's already there, he could very well be sitting in a car along one of the roads into town, waiting for us to drive by. But I kind of think that he'd go right to the house, right? I guess he knows the town too, right? Or at least as much as I might know his town? They must be pretty close to being the same."
The waitress walked back to take their drink order. A group of college kids at a nearby table erupted into hearty laughter.
"Listen, there's no sense talking it to death," Nikki said, even though she was the one who had broached the subject this time. "We know what you've got to do. Go to the house. Make sure your family is all right. Once we do that, then we can figure out what's next. But right now," she went on, as the waitress came up to take their order, "let's eat."
He couldn't explain it. But once they turned out of Ellen C.'s, Jules got the feeling they were being watched. The Face. They walked out of the alley into the parking lot of the bar, toward the car. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. They couldn't get to the car fast enough to suit Jules.
There was a noise behind them, that of gravel moving. Someone stepping out from behind a car. Jules looked behind him, instinctively reaching for the gun tucked under his shirt. There was a flash of light, then a sound. Nikki screamed as Jules pushed her on the ground and jumped across a car, sliding down the hood hard onto the ground below.
There was a scream from near the bar. Someone yelling something about calling the police. Then footsteps leading toward the road. Jules went after him with his gun in his hand. He had managed to catch a glimpse of Nikki, to make sure she was all right before giving chase after The Face. It was crazy for him to chase him. But it was the only thing to do. He had to stop him. The Face wouldn't just decide to leave Jules alone. So what was the other choice? He had to play the game. He had to win.
Sirens in the distance. Police? Fire? Was it too soon for the call to have gone through? The Face turned and went down a street. It was dark; no street lights, but the moon was bright and Jules could make him out clearly just up ahead. Behind him came Nikki's voice. He couldn't make out what she was screaming. And he didn't care.
The chase continued up several other streets. The Face was looking over his shoulder. Good, Jules thought, knowing from his football days that someone looking over their shoulder could not run as fast as they would looking straight ahead. Jules wondered why the man didn't just switch. The sirens weren't getting any closer, but a car turned a corner up ahead, stopping both Jules and The Face dead in their tracks. The Face turned to Jules, then darted down a walkway between two buildings. Jules went after him again, but when he turned the corner, the man was gone.
He had flipped.
The car screeched to a stop. "Jules, get in the car!" Nikki. But Jules knew he had The Face on the run. The hunter had become the hunted. Jules knew that he could not switch. Which meant he had to wait. The Face wouldn't want to stay in that world. Not where he was a wanted man. Especially with Jules still in this world. Even though now The Face would be wanted for shooting the gun at Jules and Nikki. And Jules would be wanted for questioning. But he had done nothing wrong. He was the intended victim. He would make up something to tell the cops to appease them, to make them think it was nothing more than a random act of violence.
"Get in the car, Jules. Now!"
"Nikki, get out of here. Go!" Jules walked down the walkway with both hands cradling the gun. It was almost completely dark now. What was that? Something on one of the roofs. Jules looked up but could see nothing. He looked back at Nikki. She was still standing there, watching him. Her face was unreadable. Jules looked around him. There. A ladder up to the roof. He'd take it.
There was nothing, no one, on the roof. And nowhere for anyone to hide. He walked around all four corners of the building, looking over the side, trying to familiarize himself with his surroundings. The building stood by itself, something Jules had not noticed until this moment. It looked like there had been a building next to it. In the moonlight, Jules could tell where the building on the other side was more weathered at the top than the bottom and thought back to his hometown.
The sirens were close now. It was the police, he felt sure. At least Nikki had got away with the car. He looked at her still standing beside the car looking for him down the walkway. She didn't see him on the five-story building. And he decided not to give his location away. He hoped she would be safe, and felt bad for leaving her alone. If The Face was smart...
He heard something move behind him. Nothing there. The gun was off safety. He had the other gun on him too. He moved to the center of the roof to allow himself a better view around him. No sense being so close to the edge when The Face could leap in at any moment.
And suddenly he was there, stalking toward where Jules stood, his gun aimed at him. Jules thought about shooting him, whether he could pull the trigger or not, whether he was a good enough shot to hit him at all. He had not done too badly shooting bottles in the field with Sara. But that had been just target practice. He had to do the opposite of what The Face would expect. Or at least the opposite of what he thought The Face would expect. The Face wouldn't expect Jules to shoot him.
Jules moved quickly, tackling the man and pushing him across the roof against the side of the building. Both men's guns went flying; Jules' gun went first, and stayed on the roof. The Face's gun went flying over the side. Jules guessed it was only one of his guns.
Jules began hitting him, throwing punches wildly to the man's gut, hitting him in the stomach. The Face seemed dazed at first, blocked a punch, then kicked Jules. The kick knocked Jules back a few steps, but he regained his balance. The Face came after him again, pinning him on the ground. Jules tried to fight him off with everything he had, but couldn't get hold of the man enough to do much of anything.
If only he could get to his gun... Then it hit him. Not his gun, but The Face's gun. He guessed The Face had another one and began feeling for it. He got a hand on steel just as The Face realized what he was doing. He jumped up before Jules could get the gun. Jules reacted quickly, spinning around and bringing The Face's legs out from under him. He was surprised at himself, how he was fighting. And winning! But he couldn't think about that now. The Face hit the ground hard, the gun in his hand. Jules froze. He may have been terrified, but he was determined not to let it show.
The Face just glared at him. Then he put his gun back under his shirt. Jules was dumbfounded. This was personal for The Face. Obviously. Shooting him would have been too easy; the man wanted him to feel it. Jules toughened, expecting the worst. But not expecting The Face to move so quickly. The man knew karate, kicking him in the face. The shot knocked Jules back. He tried to control his balance but to no use. He fell back on the hard roof. He felt blood trickling down his jaw.
The Face dove for him. But Jules rolled out of the way and scrambled to his feet. Both men went for their guns at the same time.
"If you want to shoot me, shoot me now," The Face said. "I don't think you have it in you."
Jules pulled the trigger without thinking about what he was doing, surprising himself as much as it did The Face. The shot hit The Face in the arm, the same arm that Jules had been stabbed in, grazing him ever so slightly. The Face looked down at his arm, saw just a spot of blood and began laughing.
Jules shot him again, hitting him in the same arm. The shot went through his arm causing the man to scream with pain and the gun to fall out of his hand. The Face was so surprised that he had been shot--twice--that he just stood there looking at the bleeding arm. Then, he went for his gun, diving for it. Jules panicked and began running away from the road where Nikki had been, to the opposite side of the building, forgetting that there was nowhere to go until he reached the edge. He looked at the ground five stories below, wondered if he would survive a jump from that height, knowing he would not survive staying on the roof.
The man was rolling across the ground, steadying his bad arm with his good hand, holding the gun in his bad hand. Jules had a choice to make. Stay here and be killed. Or jump and take his chances. He looked down at the ground five stories below, then back over his shoulder. It was an easy choice for him to make. He simply held his breath and jumped......and landed safely on the ground. No, not the ground. On a roof. He had switched and landed on a rooftop of a building that existed in the other world, that had once existed in his own. But there was no time to think about it. The Face would realize it, and switch as well. If he could. Maybe the gunshot to the arm wouldn't allow him to switch...
Jules ran for a door that was on the roof. He prayed it would open. It would be a miracle if it did. But he needed a miracle now. Another miracle like jumping off a rooftop and landing safely on another rooftop in another reality. It was a little rising just big enough to house the top of the stairs inside and have enough room so that whoever was in charge of locking the door could stand on enough ground not to lose their balance. 'Please be open.' He prayed.
Yes! The door was unlocked. Jules swung it back and ran down darkened stairs. Their was music playing. A bar? No, not with this kind of music, he thought. Someone was playing hymnals on an organ. "Just As I Am." Jules chuckled. He had just broken into a church.
The stairs led to a door in an attic. Jules figured this part of the building had probably not been used for years. What if there was no way out? He walked over an old floor that creaked with every step. He prayed that it would hold. Another door. It was unlocked too. More stairs that led all the way to the lobby of what Jules saw was a make-shift church. Or something like that. The music was coming from a set of offices where Jules could see a man and woman washing windows. He couldn't read the insignia on their shirts. Something like Sunshine Cleaners.
Jules went to the front door, opened it and walked onto the streets. There was no one as far as he could see down both ways of the street. But he knew he couldn't stay in this world for too long. The Face would come after him and needed his car. Which was in the other world with Nikki. What if The Face went after her to get to him? He had to get back to her. But how?
There was another major reason not to stay in this world. He was a wanted man. His name and face was probably in every police station and post office across the country. He was an innocent man, but no one would ever believe him. His story was too far-fetched. And then he had a thought. Why hadn't The Face shot him? He had hesitated. And when he had fired the gun, the shot missed badly, though he wasn't that far away. The only answer Jules could come up with, other than that The Face was a bad shot, something Jules doubted, was that The Face hadn't wanted him dead. But why? And then it hit him. If The Face was as smart as Nikki had been saying, The Face would want him in this world. He, The Face, could be a hero by catching--and killing--Jules Verne Hinton, wanted in Texas for the shooting of four National Guardsmen. By switching, Jules had made it that much easier on the man.He found a gas station a few blocks down the road, the old kind with the bathrooms on the outside of the building. The door had been left ajar and he walked in, wincing at the smell. There was a mirror on the wall that was dirty and half gone, but it was enough for Jules to see the blood running down his jaw. He rinsed his mouth out, spitting several times to get all the blood out. There didn't seem to be any permanent damage. No loose teeth or anything.
He had to switch back. But how? He hadn't consciously switched when he jumped off that roof top. Hopefully Nikki would realize what had happened and come looking for him. Maybe she could help him get back to his world. Of course, being in this world may make it safer for his family, if The Face knew he couldn't consciously switch.
He peeked out the door. There didn't appear to be anyone around. He couldn't stay in here forever. Maybe he should go somewhere that he and Nikki had been in the other world, somewhere she would know he may go. He decided to head back toward the uptown area where they had been. Maybe even back to Ellen C.'s. The one in this world.
He walked out of the bathroom and into the shadows down the sidewalk. In the distance, he could hear sirens. Unrelated to him, he told himself. But they still unnerved him. He ran a hand through his hair as a car passed, trying to shield his face from their sight. But how many people in this part of the country knew what had happened in Texas days before? Or expected to see the man wanted for that crime in Virginia? He hoped it wasn't a large number. But it would take only one person to recognize him.He saw her up ahead. She was walking toward him, trying to tell for sure whether it was him, The Face or somebody else entirely. They met in the shadows. She went to hug him and he let her.
"We need to get out of here. I saw him when he switched. How do you feel?" The question seemed to him to be an afterthought. Something she said just because it seemed like the right thing to say. She reached up to his chin.
"Pretty good for someone who just jumped off a five-story building, I guess. I need you to help me switch. I don't know how I did it the last time."
"Let's go somewhere a little less conspicuous. We can figure it out there There was that abandoned shopping center behind one of the hotels as we came into town. Maybe it's there in this world too. It's just a mile or so away."
"What did you do when you jumped off the building?" she asked. They were standing in the middle of the empty parking lot behind the old strip mall. There were weeds sprouting up through the broken pavement and though there were lights all around, none of them looked like they had been used in years.
"What do you mean what did I do? I jumped. I guess I was lucky. Or maybe it was subconscious. I was in danger, so I switched without knowing what I was doing. I've done that before, haven't I?"
She stretched a link of hair into her mouth and appeared to be in deep thought. Jules was growing more impatient by the minute.
"Maybe we shouldn't worry about switching right now," she said. "Maybe we should just get back to Bishopville and worry about it then."
"That would work, if we had a car in this world."
"Oh, yeah." She seemed to be buying time, he thought. And then he remembered when she had tried to teach him how to switch earlier. She hadn't done it then, so she must have been trying to think of another way.
A pair of headlights caught Jules' attention across the parking lot. He looked in the direction of the car, expecting the driver to turn away when he caught Jules and Nikki in the light. Probably some kids looking for a place to park. But the car kept coming toward them. And it seemed to be speeding up.
Jules looked at Nikki, and started to move away. Why was she just standing there? But where he could he go? They were out in the open. He grabbed her by the arm, but she still wouldn't budge. The car swerved out of the way, then came to a stop. Jules went for his gun. It wasn't there. The front doors opened. Expensive, dark suits. Short, cropped hair. The men from the train.
Jules made to run but heard a gun click. But not from the direction of the men, who were stalking toward him. Jules looked over his shoulder.
"Nikki?"
"It's not personal, Jules."
"What do you mean it's not personal? You're holding a gun on me. What's going on here? You're working for The Face?"
She looked like she was going to answer him, but the men came toward him, and she cut herself off before speaking. Jules didn't move, couldn't move, couldn't fathom what was going on as #1 reached into his pocket and brought out a needle. Nikki threw the handcuffs to #2, who grabbed Jules, trying to force him to the ground. He had to get away, had to fight them again and escape from another seemingly impossible situation. But there was no where to go.
"Give him a stronger dose this time," Nikki said.
#2 had his hands behind his back, had snapped the cuffs on as #2 pushed the needle in, then pulled the plunger. All the while, Jules stared at Nikki, stared into those eyes he had never known how to read. The last thing he remembered before slipping into unconsciousness were the tears that had begun to stream down her cheeks.Water trickling down his back. Like the feet of a thousand ants tickling his skin. He was slumped forward in the water, seeing everything through a thick wall of fog. Dizziness crept in suddenly whenever he tried to move his head the slightest bit. A bathtub? He was taking a bath, the warm water up around his waist. There was a hand on his arm, holding him upright. Murmured voices in the background that he could not make out. Hushed whispers. He felt a sudden rush of fear as the hand disappeared and he teetered forward, knowing that he would fall face first into the soapy water and there was nothing that he could do about it. But a pair of strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him back just in time. He saw a face peering down at him, surrounded by white.
No. A white uniform. A hospital? He tried to mouth a question to the woman in white, but nothing came out. His tongue felt thick.
"Looks like that didn't heal properly." He knew what she meant--his arm where he had been stabbed a week (weeks?) before. "You have a nasty scar there," she said, smiling. Wisps of blonde hair peeked out from under her white cap. She looked to be in her earlier forties. Nose a little too large for her face. He felt her fingers touch his left arm where the knife had gone in. How long ago had that been? The room seemed to be swirling on the edge of his vision. Again he tried to work his tongue to say something to her, but nothing came out.
He closed his eyes for a second and could hear a beeping sound. He tried to ask her what it meant, but when he opened his eyes, she was gone. He was lying in bed with warm sunlight streaming in through a nearby window. It looked unreal. A peaceful scene. The beeping was coming from a machine just away to the right side of the bed. Wires trailed out of the machine and were connected to his head and chest. He was sure they--whoever they were--would have had to shave his hair where the patches were. It was all so confusing. And an IV was attached to his hand. Medical tape, the type that had held his bandage on to his arm back in Texas.
Jules tried to rise, to push himself up out of the bed, but found that he could not. He didn't have the strength. It was hard to form coherent thoughts. His mind kept drifting off, seeking more comfortable places. Dreams.
Nikki was standing at the edge of the bed. The light had changed. It was dimmer outside now, or the curtains were drawn. She was frowning down at him, her eyes widening suddenly as if she realized he had become aware of her. He tried to smile, but his lips only twitched partially.
Her lips were moving. She came to sit at the foot of the bed, but did not touch him. She was saying something, but he could not hear her. All of the color in her face seemed to be leached out at the moment. She looked tired. Her hair was a little out of place and her eyes red. As she spoke, he could see a wide variety of emotions play out across her face. He wondered what she could be saying that seemed to be bothering her so much. Several times she paused to stare intently into his eyes, as if she was expecting him to say something. When he did not, she appeared to take it as a sign to continue.
Jules wondered if she was cold. She was holding her arms and staring at the machine to his right. Her eyes had become mere slits as she talked now. All he could hear was the beeping sound.
Jules glanced at the window and saw that the curtains were partially closed. When he looked back there was a black man standing next to Nikki, dressed in a long white coat. He was frowning at her and shooting startled glanced toward Jules. She stood up abruptly and seemed to cringe away from the man, trying to get around him.
The man in the long white coat approached Jules carefully, gazing down at a clipboard in his hand. He took a little pencil light from his coat pocket and peered into Jules' eyes, muttering to himself. He could smell the man. He smelled like the nurse had. The same kind of soap, the kind of soap all doctors and hospitals seemed to use. It had a comforting blandness to it.He was dreaming about the Amazon. Laying down in the lush undergrowth as a long line of ants crawled across him and the leaves. The blue sky and sun sparkled down through the canopy overhead. A sharp pain on his wrist startled him. The ants were biting!
Jules stared. There was a doctor standing at the edge of a table next to him. He was on the table. The man had a hypodermic needle, just removing it and swabbing the spot where it had plunged into Jules' skin. Jules tried to meet his gaze, but the doctor wouldn't look at him. He could see other doctors. Or other men and women dressed as doctors. They were conferring with each other. Then, two of them approached and then the room appeared to be sliding, or he was. On some sort of rolling cart or table. There was a machine behind him.
As he turned, Jules caught a sudden glimpse of a small cluster of men at the far end of the room. He could see an old man in a wheelchair also wearing a lab coat, but could not catch a glimpse of his face. He seemed to be in charge, giving orders in hushed tones. He suddenly remembered seeing the man in the wheel chair before just watching him in the room, never speaking or getting too close, but always watching. Beyond them, Jules saw Nikki standing on the other side of a glass partition, watching everything.
And then they were moving him toward a large machine. A strange thought occurred to him. What if this had all been some sort of strange dream? What if he really had made it back home? What if the tumor had been real? What if Nikki had brought him back? They were moving him toward an opening in the machine, sliding him inside it. It was doing something to him. Were they looking for the tumor?
But where was his family? Surely they would be here. He had no doubt that Tim would have been there. Unless it was in the middle of the night. Would Nikki be watching over him--stay at his side--all this time?
A sharp pang of reality hit him. No. He could not go back down that road again. Either he was insane or everything that he thought had happened to him really had happened. He was a freak that could leap between two virtually identical realities. The nurse. She had noticed the scar on his arm. It had not been there before the men who had abducted him from Dan's sister's house had made it. That proved it. He was a sane man in an insane situation.
But that left him wondering where he was now. And why was he here?Maybe it was the government. The men from the train had been driving a Ford LTD when they kidnapped him. And they were dressed all in black. No, that was ridiculous. Men in Black. Right. What would they want with Jules? But if Jules did have this ability to switch between worlds--and by now it was no longer a question for him; he did have this ability--maybe the government would want to find out about it, to use it for their own purposes.
But where did Nikki fit into this? Or The Face? He doubted either of them would work for or with the government. Then again, it didn't appear that The Face was working with anyone. But the men and women here, where ever here was, obviously belonged to some group, some common purpose of some type. Jules doubted he wanted to know what that common purpose might be.
The only thing that made any sense to him right now was that if he had a tumor and was in the hospital getting checked out for that. But nothing about the hospital indicated that was what he was here for. In fact, everything indicated otherwise--the secrecy, the fact that none of his family had come to see him and, most of all, the scar on his left arm from back in Texas. Funny, he thought. There was a time when finding he had a tumor was the worst thing he could imagine ever happening to him. Now he found himself wishing that was all it was.
As Jules gained more strength, he noticed that the orderlies and nurses were hanging around more. Jules could only guess what would happen should he try to get out of bed and walk around. Not that he was strong enough for that yet. Whatever they had given him--and were still giving him by the amount in the IV--was much stronger than any drug he had had before.
He found him wishing that Nikki would come back. Whatever it was she had been saying a few days before certainly seemed important to her. Probably more explanations, more half truths and all-out lies as to why she had done what she had done. But now he sensed there was something else there. Fear. He wasn't sure how he knew this. Maybe it was her body language. Or maybe he was trying to read things into what she may have been trying to tell him that simply were not there, trying to reason how he could have been so totally wrong about her time and time again.There was someone coming down the hall. A wheel chair. Jules tried to pretend he was asleep, to see if the man would come into the room again. He had the feeling the man was sitting in the doorway watching him. He cocked an eye just in time to see the chair wheel out of sight.
And then there was a nurse changing the IV that dripped whatever drug it was that was keeping Jules so out of it. She heard the man before Jules did. The man in the wheel chair had come back and motioned the woman not to hook the IV back up. He wanted Jules to regain some form of consciousness, though Jules could only guess why before the world got dark again.
And light again. The man in the wheel chair was staring out the window.
"It's really a beautiful view," he said, speaking in a voice so low and gruff Jules could barely understand him. "I forget that sometimes, working all the time." He kept facing out the window. "I used to know someone who always told me that my work was going to send me to an early grave. Little did she know that my work would save my life. And the lives of countless others."
The man stopped talking and Jules wondered if he had dozed off. And then he turned the chair toward Jules, but did not come any closer. Jules squinted to get a better look at him. But with the sun streaming through the window and the drugs he was on, it was impossible.
"And you're going to help me, son. When I am on that stage accepting my Noble Prize, your name will be mentioned. In fact, your name will go down in history. You will be remembered for helping me in my finest accomplishment."
Jules watched the man without reaction. What he said seemed unreal, as if Jules was dreaming--or hallucinating--again. And then he remembered something Nikki had told him. That the Face's father was still around. She had not said it, but Jules had assumed the man was somehow involved in all of this. And now he knew for a fact that this was the case. The man was sitting across the room from him.
"It'll be great, Jules," the man continued. "A medical breakthrough is on the horizon. Within ten, may five years, there will be no more cancer, all because of the research that is going on in this very hospital." He must have seen the flicker in Jules' eyes. "Ah, it's a very legitimate, over the board stuff. You can trust me on that. No one is in any pain here. In fact, it may very well be that they will ever be in pain again because of their time here."
It took Jules a long time to get the question on his mind out through a dry mouth. "How?" Jules was sure he did not want to know the answer.
The man smiled. "All in due time, son. Don't you worry about a thing." He stopped, as if trying to think what to say next. "Oh, I thought you would like to know that the authorities in Texas are thoroughly confused. It's all quite amusing in a way. One of the men who was shot came to and told them that there were two of you that night. He even identified our mutual acquaintance as being the shooter."
He shook his head for the longest time. "I cannot believe I ever trusted that boy. I should have known better than that. Once a bum; always a bum. He's been in and out of jail more times than I can count. I must apologize for him. He was only supposed to track you down and bring you here. When we find the man, and we will find him, we'll turn him into the Texas authorities and they can do whatever they want with him. They'll probably put him in the chair, it being Texas. But I have spent too much of my life getting him out of trouble. He let his jealousies and insecurities get in the way. Something I thought he would be the last person to do, especially when I sent our dear Miss Cauthen to do the job he couldn't."
A doctor that Jules recognized from before came in and said something to the man, then left without ever looking at Jules.
"I've hired the best staff around, but some of them aren't too good with their bedside manner. I guess that's because most of the patients here are not as aware of their surroundings as you are." He looked at his watch. "Well, I guess I've been evasive for too long. Do you know who I am?" He wheeled himself to the side of Jules' bed.
Jules looked at the man for a long time, trying to imagine if that was how his father would look like if the man was still alive. He shook his head.
"I don't know if you do. Ms. Cauthen hasn't told me everything that she told you. Maybe I shouldn't have trusted her either. But I think you now who I am deep down in your heart. Do you remember the bicycle you got when you were six years old? It was your first one. Your mother and I spent weeks trying to find the right one. You wanted a certain one, a specific color that you had seen on some Saturday morning cartoon show. But we finally found it. Funny. Putting that thing together was harder for me than all my years of school, all my research.
"I just wanted to tell you, son, that I have always missed you. You and I are going to do great things together. You probably don't remember but your mother and I did not get along. We just weren't suited for each other. I don't think she was ready to accept what I had to offer to the world. So I left her. It was brilliant. I just stopped existing in that world. She's the one who came up with the story that I had died. I think she would rather have believed that. But I didn't."
Hector Hubert Hinton looked at his son for the first time in many minutes and saw the shock written on his face. Jules was literally speechless. "I know. It's quite a story. But with what you know about your own ability now, you must know it's true. In fact, that's why your double is so insanely jealous of you, because he just found out that he isn't my real son. Not that he confided any of this to me, mind you. But it was pretty easy to figure out. He also wonders whatever happened to his real father. Some things are better left unexplained, I suppose."
A nurse came into the room. "Ah, there's my signal to leave. Be well, son. I'll come back to see you before your surgery. Good night."
The man wheeled out of the room, leaving Jules wanting to know more, a thousand questions racing through his mind at once. But before he could voice any of them, the nurse held him down while inserting the needle into his vein. In a moment, the liquid from the IV made him go into a deep sleep. Again. But not before thinking that that man was insane. And that he had to get away somehow. Had to survive.
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