Remember the Future (4 page)

9

Inside the busy confines of the Bush International air traffic control tower, men and women sat at rows of stations and advised hundreds of pilots in the skies above Houston, Texas.

Carl Simmons removed his headset as Grant sat down at the board adjacent to his.  “Hey, Frederickson, I heard a rumor you were actually going on an honest-to-goodness vacation.  Is this true?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” Grant replied with an uncertain smile.

“Man, I can’t remember the last time you even missed a day.”

Grant swallowed awkwardly.  “Actually, it’s been about a year.”

Half-listening, Carl rose from his seat and made a quick circular motion above his head.  As he did about ten controllers rose as well from their own stations.  They all turned to Grant, and in unison, clasped their hands together over their respective heads in a show of victory before returning to their seats.

Grant stared in awed confusion and looked at Carl, who chuckled at his reaction.  “Yeah, I know.  Kinda sappy.  We just wanted to let you know how much we appreciate you around here, man.”

Grant smiled at the faces around him and turned with embarrassment back to his station.  “Wow,” he whispered to himself.

“Yeah, well, secretly we’re all jealous and hate you,” Carl snapped with the hint of a smirk, turning back to his own station.  “So, take your time off and don’t leave us holding the bag here for you too long.”

10

When the Blank Men entered Bush International, Maddy sat in one of the automated inter-terminal trains that ran around the clock deep within the bowels of the airport.  She had only meant to ride it once around, but instead found herself there for most of the day falling into the deep meditative state that she had been practicing lately. In this way, she had actually been able to discover the level and section of the garage where the white Toyota with the dented bumper was currently parked.

She had been in this state when the feeling broke through like a pulsing alarm.

Glancing at her watch and finding that nearly two hours had passed, she rose immediately from her seat like a sentry spotting a threat on the horizon, grabbed her bag from the floor, and disembarked at the next stop.

The underground passage below the terminal was narrow and dimly lit, which only added to the claustrophobia.  Glancing back behind, she found both the corridor and the tracks on either side empty.  She had to find a dense crowd and get lost inside, quick.  From experience, she knew that there was safety only in numbers.

She increased her pace until she arrived at the next stairwell and started up to the ground level.

A single man in a grey suit stood alone at the top of the stairs, his back to her.

No, she calmed herself.  She could feel the messiness of his mind.  The conflict.  The confusion.  The anxiety.  This one was clearly a traveler preoccupied with the near future.

She climbed the stairs past him then stopped.

A single non-descript man in what appeared to be a black raincoat stood facing her about fifty yards away at the entrance to the terminal, his face in shadow.

A Blank Man.

No thoughts.  No emotions.

No arc into the future.  No trailing past.

A blank spot on her radar.

Here we go
, she told herself, seating herself fully in the reality of the moment--no longer looking to the future or the past.

Maddy turned and started back downstairs, dashing down the narrow corridor in the opposite direction as an automated tram flanked her on one side.  She had to get to the next intersection and get upstairs before the other man.

Too late!

Just ahead, she could see him rushing down the stairs from the level above, the black tail of his raincoat trailing behind him like a dragon’s tail as he headed down toward her.  He had anticipated her direction and was attempting to cut her off.  Now he would expect her to turn back and head in the opposite direction.

She increased her speed instead and blew through the passage between the two sets of steps, committing to take the next available stairwell up to the ground floor of the terminal.

Taking one quick glance behind, she found the suited man stopped in the corridor, speaking into a cell phone.

Making it to the next stairwell, Maddy took the steps two at a time to the terminal above.

She emerged from the lower level and started down the enormous nearly empty concourse that formed a bridge between terminals.  The stark dying rays of the evening sun cast broad lines across the floor from the transparent roof lattice above, drawing long web-like fingers on the floor around her.

Just ahead two pairs of pedestrian platforms moved in opposite directions down either side of the corridor, moving passengers quickly through the length of the long concourse to their destinations.

Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Maddy glanced back behind her and noticed several small groups approaching.

Dropping to one knee and setting her bag down beside her, she pretended to tie her shoe.  She waited until the first group was reasonably close before rising.  Gradually, she slowed her rate until the group had overtaken her then fell into step just behind and slightly ahead of the second group.

The fifty yard long concourse began to fill with people.  She assumed that a plane must have just de-boarded.

Stepping onto the moving platform to her right just behind the large group she was following, Maddy took a moment to discreetly glance over her shoulder.

The Blank Man on the cell phone had emerged from the lower level and had started down the platform about twenty yards behind her, pushing roughly past travelers in his way.

She looked up.  Just ahead, a second suited man waited at the end of the moving platform, cell phone held down beside the long tail of his raincoat like a sidearm.

A second one.

Maddy stopped walking. The man behind her also stopped.

Making eye contact with a random man in military camouflage approaching on the opposite moving platform to her left, Maddy bolted forward again, waving erratically at him.

“Help, sir!  I’m being attacked,” she yelled to him as all surrounding eyes turned in her direction.

The second Blank Man stepped casually onto the opposite platform moving toward her.

Maddy slipped over the short dividing wall between the moving platforms with the help of the confused soldier, then leapt the short outer wall to the solid floor of the concourse and broke into a run toward the entrance to the next terminal.

The two Blank Men continued down the opposite platforms at a casual pace as the soldier and surrounding travelers watched Maddy disappear from view into the crowd ahead.

11

At the end of his shift, Grant walked to the station of everyone he felt he knew reasonably well and shook their hands, saving Carl Simmons at the neighboring station for last.

Giving him a firm handshake, the other man studied Grant’s face with a bemused expression.  “Why do I feel like your retiring instead of just going on vacation?”

Grant tried not to look awkward as he considered.  “You never know,” he responded.  “Maybe I’ll get used to the lifestyle and decide to stay on permanent vacation.”

“What?  Did you go and win the lottery on us?”

Grant gave a dark chuckle.  “I wish,” he replied, thinking instead:
If only money could solve this problem.

Carl gave him one last nod then turned back to his station.  “Yeah, if either of us could retire at our age, we’d have done it by now, right?  Have a good time, man!”

Grant started out, taking one last look back before he headed out to the elevator.

12

No one approached Grant in the airport as he made his way to the garage.  Down in the belly of the underground garage, he watched every shadow and listened attentively for footsteps coming from behind in the darkness but no one materialized.

All day, his mind had been replaying one of the last things Rudy had said to him: “You’ve got twenty-four hours, Frederickson.  Choose how you want to spend it.”

He could have spent the day somewhere other than work, but oddly enough, he had still felt a duty to his co-workers and to all the anonymous passengers on all those planes that depended on people like him.

Grant found his Toyota parked in the usual spot, tail-end first in the far right hand row.  He opened the unlocked door and cranked his engine.

The knock on his window brought him to attention.

In that split second, he thought:
If this is it, I’m ready to go and I’m going to meet this thing head-on.

Slowly, he turned to look his destiny in the eye.

The girl stood at his passenger side window with a wide-eyed panicky look on her face.  After a moment, she produced a hundred dollar bill and pressed it wordlessly against the window with an open palm.

“Maddy,” he recalled in a murmur.

Grant instantly recognized her from the coffee shop even before she proceeded to press her nametag next to the hundred he had given her.

He had completely forgotten that he had given her the last of his cash.  At the coffee shop after he had done the thing, he had felt instantly free and unburdened, almost as if he had removed the last of the piece of ballast that had kept him from floating away.

In an odd way, seeing his money again brought back the heaviness of reality.  Life and its responsibilities seemed to settle back onto his shoulders like a backpack, and he felt a sudden urge to shake this person off and continue to look for the man who had made a date to kill him.

After a few moments of consideration, Grant leaned over and cranked the window down by hand.

“Hi,” she said, apologetically.  “I saw you get off the elevator and…  I’m having a little trouble and I need a huge favor.”

Just behind her a black Mercedes slid into view and stopped.  The driver watched from the darkness of the cab.

Maddy looked behind her and quickly shuffled into the car seat before Grant had responded.  “Please, I’m being followed.”

The cab light in the Mercedes lit up.  Sitting in the driver’s seat, Rudy nodded across at Grant.

“It’s not you that’s in danger,” Grant told her.

“You don't know me, but I believe I know the kind of man you are. I'm gambling that you would never dismiss a woman in distress. Please.”

Leaving the engine idling, Rudy climbed out of the car.

A non-descript black sedan crept forward between him and Grant's Toyota.

The man behind the wheel gave Rudy a long hard stare as he slowed his car to a stop.

Rudy coolly returned the stare. He reached down into the pocket of his jacket.

The sedan pulled abruptly away.

Rudy’s fingers loosened from around the hidden switchblade in his pocket as he watched the sedan sail down the ramp leading to the exit of the garage.  When he finally looked over to Grant's parking space, he found the Toyota gone.

“Shit!”

13

A thin misty rain had begun to fall as the Toyota pulled to a stop at the airport’s small police substation.

Maddy peered out her window.  “What’s this?”

“Airport police.  You'll be safe here,” Grant replied, glancing into his rear-view mirror.

“No-no-no,” Maddy said, stiffening anxiously.  “Look, I know you think this will help, but you just don't know what these people are capable of.”

“They aren't after you. Trust me when I say...”

The black sedan screeched to a stop just in front of them, effective cutting Grant off.  Grant watched with trepidation as two men in black raincoats emerged from the car.

“Maybe you should just go ahead and get out now,” Grant urged his passenger.

Maddy closed her eyes and lowered her head.

“Are you okay?” Grant asked her.

“First, get the door. Wait.  Wait.”

Grant studied her with steadily growing concern.  “Ma’am, what’s wrong?” he asked.

The taller of two men appeared at Grant's window, motioning for him to lower it.

Grant tried to get a good look at the man’s face, but the rain on his window partnered with the fog on the window from the heat inside the cabin, made it difficult for him to focus.

“These people are not interested in you. Just open the door and go to the police right outside,” Grant attempted to reassure Maddy. “Can you hear me?”

Maddy blindly reached out and put her hand on the handle of her door.  She shook her head twice, then suddenly nodded resolutely.  “Got it!” she snapped, opening her eyes and turning to Grant.  “How do you feel about guns, Grant?”

“G-Guns?”  Grant stared at her with confusion.  “Did you just call me by my name?”

Just outside Maddy’s window, a uniformed police officer in a green rain coat stepped out of the substation.

The tall man in the black raincoat knocked loudly on Grant’s window.  “Sir, will you step out of the car, please?” he asked in a low muffled voice.

Grant wiped his hand across the window to try and see more clearly, but it didn’t seem to help.  The rain gave the man outside a foggy appearance.

Grant cranked his window down a crack.  “She doesn’t have anything to do with any of this,” he called out.  “I'll go along quietly to see your boss if you just let this woman go.  Okay?”

The man seemed to look past Grant.

Through her own window, Maddy watched as the other Blank Man showed a uniformed police officer what looked like a badge.  Unlike Grant, she could see the man outside very clearly.

“Step out of the car, sir,” the man on Grant’s side commanded.

“Grant, no!” Maddy snapped.

Grant pushed open the door, giving Maddy a discreet nod as he slid out.

The man stepped back slightly to allow Grant to climb out, then rushed forward, twisting his arm behind his back and effortlessly pressing him chest-first against the roof of his Toyota.

“Hey,” Grant exclaimed angrily.

The Blank Man’s hand disappeared into his coat and reappeared with a gun.

“Here we go,” Maddy murmured to herself shakily.

The second Blank Man started to open Maddy's door, but she threw all her weight against it. The corner of the door connected with his chin, sending him to the ground.

Maddy scrambled out and grabbed the arm of the officer.

“Help,” she shouted.  “These men are not cops!”

Pushing her firmly aside, the officer dropped his right hand to his holster and unsnapped the guard as his left hand hit the transmit button on the radio attached to his coat pocket.

“Unit six!  Lou!  Get out here!”

The fallen Blank Man leapt up, burying his knee in the officer's crotch.

As the officer hit the ground, Maddy drew the officer's gun from his holster and pressed the gun to the Blank Man’s head.

“Down! Knees! Now,” Maddy barked in an authoritative voice.  “You with the gun!  Drop it!”

He stood stock still.

The Blank Man with Grant gave an almost infinitesimal nod and the other man dropped slowly to his knees.  Grant attempted to look up over the roof, but Blank pushed him firmly against the car.

Turning her attention to the other man, Maddy called out: “Get rid of the gun and let go of him! Now!

The tall Blank Man did not move.

“Bert, you and your friend Ernie read my file?”

The taller Blank Man released Grant, returned his gun into his coat and backed away palms turned out to Maddy.

“Now go get in your car and keep your hands on the wheel where I can see them.”

Pushing away from his car, Grant looked from the Blank Man to Maddy.  “You aren’t here for
me
?”  He attempted to get a look at the man’s face but he smoothly turned aside.  “Who are you with?” Grant demanded.

On his knees at Maddy’s feet, Ernie-Blank gave just the hint of a cold smile.

Bert-Blank dutifully climbed behind the wheel of the black sedan, the Toyota’s headlights brightly revealing every movement as he placed his hands almost demurely atop the steering wheel.

“Grant!  Car! Now!”

Grant slid into the driver’s seat of the Toyota without hesitation, glancing over at the grimacing police officer rising slowly to his knees.

Maddy opened the passenger side door, rolled the window down and slid inside, all the while maintaining her aim on Ernie.  “Grant, I’m going to fire this gun twice now, but no one will be hurt.  You understand?”

“What?  What?”

Hanging out the window, Maddy fired one shot each into the black sedan's left side tires.  The car sank to one side.

On the driver’s side, Grant covered his head with both arms.

“Sorry-Sorry,” Maddy called out, sliding back inside.  “I had to do it.

Grant slowly untangled himself and stared at Maddy with a mixture of shock and anger.

“I shot the tires.  Yes, they're still breathing,” Maddy told him.  “Drive the car.  Now!”

Putting the car into reverse, Grant pulled the Toyota back far enough to get around the sedan and back onto the road.

Ernie-Blank slowly rose from the ground behind the crippled sedan watching the Toyota drive off into the night.  Bert climbed out from the behind the wheel and stood beside the car just as a black Mercedes cruised past.

Rudy rolled down his passenger window and surveyed the scene as he passed them.

“I’ll call AAA for you,” Rudy called out, accelerating past.

Bert-Blank yanked his cell phone from its holster and hit the speed-dial.

The police officer finally rose to his feet, patting the empty holster at his side.  “Aw hell.”

Turning slightly away from him and without seeming to aim, Ernie-Blank drew a gun and pumped two shots into the policeman —head and chest, perfectly placed-- then returned the gun to his coat.

“Scarlet Fever has spread,” Bert-Blank spoke into the phone.