Time Spent (15 page)

Max jumped and barked excitedly. For the
first time in a very long while, he felt like a normal dog again,
happy and glad to have a friend.

______________________

Max drifted in space, in an endless void
where once there had been a rooftop in the heart of the city. His
body was wracked with spasms and shocked by electric tingles, but
his efforts to run gained him nothing.

The specters that had been his friends
surrounded him, their attention focused above. Max followed their
gaze. At the heart of the opening in the sky, a ghostly red light
began to form.

A figure emerged, and as it stepped forth
from the aperture, its features began to sharpen. Max saw a strange
being of immense power, glowing with red energy. Sometimes it
appeared as a woman, sometimes as a man, but always with an intense
gaze, its red eyes boring into Max's friends as it examined them.
As it stepped down, the being split, becoming at least a dozen of
itself, walking down to the rooftop as if navigating a flight of
invisible steps.

______________________

On the far side of the wreckage, they found
Becca shouting at Zachary, with a red-haired girl looking on. Max
released his hold on Tyler and Marcus, allowing them to
reappear.

"Hey, what's going on?" Tyler said.

"Where did you come from?" asked the
redhead.

"Give me a minute," Becca said. "I'm a
little busy tearing Blondie a new one."

Marcus put a hand on Tyler's shoulder. "Hey,
uh, did anyone notice these guys with metal faces?"

There were several of the cyber-zombies
surrounding them, wandering the room aimlessly.

"They were soldiers. I think Brock did this
to them," Tyler said.

The redhead gave him a wide-eyed look.
"Brock was here? Where is he?"

Tyler shrugged. "Last I saw him, he was
following Mia."

"Please don't tell me that Neanderthal is
your boyfriend," Becca said.

"What if he is?"

"Oh God, I think I just threw up in my mouth
a little."

Suddenly one of the cyber-zombies stopped
cold, cocked its head, and Brock's voice emerged.
"primaryhostdisabled. secondaryhostengaged."

"Fuck, here we go again," Becca said.

Its body went through the same
transformation Becca and Tyler had seen before, shifting and
mutating, growing in size and sprouting metal shapes that wrapped
around it, until it was a complete duplicate of Brock.

"systemstandby. Man, FUCK those lezbo
BITCHES. systemstanbymode."

"Brock, baby!" The redhead ran to him,
putting her arms around him. "What happened to you?"

"facialrecognitionengaged. TIFFANY? Is that
YOU? I thought you were DEAD. performinganalysis.
analysisincomplete. anomalousenergydetected."

She hugged him. "I was. I think we all
were."

Becca grabbed Zachary. "Okay, Rain Man,
you're on deck. You want to give someone a message?" She pointed at
Brock. "There's your guy."

She shoved him forward.

______________________

Becca carefully lit the candles. It had
taken her quite a bit of time, but she had set the table, put out
the candles, opened the wine, and prepared dinner for two: some
kind of grilled fish, if Max's nose was right. It smelled
delicious. When she finished, she sat down facing the door and
waited. Max sat on the floor next to her, wagging his tail.

Finally, the lock turned and the door
opened. Tyler stepped into the apartment and immediately noticed
the candlelight.

"Heyyy, what's all this?"

She smiled. "I thought we'd have a quiet
night, just the two of us." Max whimpered a bit at that. There were
three of them, but they were always forgetting him. "See, told you
I'm not that bad, once you get to know me."

"Aw, that's sweet, but I can't stay. Have to
get ready."

"Ready for what?"

"I'm meeting Blaine and some others for
dinner, may go out to the club after." He kicked off his shoes and
tossed his shirt over a chair. "You're welcome to come too, if you
want." He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

"If I want," she repeated.

"Yeah, hey sorry I didn't know you'd have
anything planned. You can stay here if you don't want to go. I'll
be back later."

"Well thanks, that's really gracious of
you," she said flatly.

"No problem, be out in a sec," he said
blandly, and shut the bathroom door in her face.

Becca stood there for a moment, staring at
the door. Then, she turned and walked to the night stand, grabbing
her bag. She walked around the apartment, stuffing what few
belongings she had into the bag and scanning the room in case she
had forgotten anything. Finally satisfied that she had gotten it
all, what little there was, she blew out the candles and went to
the door, wiping a tear away from her face. "Don't you dare cry for
him," she said. "He's not worth it."

Max barked at her. He didn't want her to
leave.

Becca turned back to him.
DDON'T EVER
TRUST ANYONE, MAX...THEY'LL ALWAYS LET YOU DOWNN

She left the apartment and closed the door
behind her. Max turned toward the bathroom door and waited.

Tyler emerged from the shower, twenty
minutes later. Max watched him as he got dressed, checked himself
in the mirror, made sure he looked just right. A bottle of wine had
been left out on the table, opened. He poured himself a small glass
and drank it, then turned out the lights and left.

He locked the door behind him.

Max lowered himself to the floor and put his
head down on his paws.

______________________

Each version of the being walked to a
different one of Max's friends and examined them, as if deciding
what to do with them. Finally, each one reached out a hand to touch
them, and in that moment, a red collar appeared around each
friend's neck, with a chain attached. The chains stretched back
through the opening in the sky and into the void beyond.

The figures became one again, and the being
began to walk back toward the opening. Max wasn't sure what to
think. He had no chain, had been forgotten entirely. That should
have been a relief, but...

The red woman stopped. She turned toward
Max, seeing him for the first time.

Max tensed. She approached him, leaning down
and examining him with her fiery red eyes, and spoke: "FORGOTTEN
ONE, FILLED WITH LONGING..."

Max whimpered, but he could not escape
her.

"YOU ARE UNEXPECTED, BUT YOU HAVE A PLACE
AMONG THE LOST."

She reached a hand out to touch his head.
Red light exploded inside his mind, and Max lost consciousness.

______________________

Max lay on his side, resting on the bed, as
Tyler emerged from the bathroom to pick up his ringing cell phone.
He was dressed for a night out, of course, in the middle of styling
his jet-black hair, which was still a bit of a mess. Tyler picked
up the phone, glanced at it, and set it back down again, apparently
choosing not to answer whomever it was. Tyler went back into the
bathroom.

Max stood up and padded over to the
nightstand. He stood up on his hind legs and peered down at the
phone. MISSED CALL, it said, and underneath: BECCA.

Whimpering a bit, Max lowered himself back
to the floor. As one of the few people who always knew he was
around, Max missed Becca. It had been months since they had seen
her.

Finally, Tyler emerged from the bathroom,
hair perfectly in place. He slipped on his shoes, tightened his
tie, and went to the door. Max stood, expecting a good-bye,
instruction to wait here, invitation to come along...something. But
Tyler simply opened the door, went out and closed it behind him. He
said nothing to Max.

Max lowered himself back to the floor with a
whine. Forgotten.

The apartment phone rang. After a few rings,
the answering machine picked up and Tyler's smooth voice issued
from it: "Hey, I can't blame you for trying to get in touch with
me, but I'm out having fun, which is where you should be! Leave a
message." The machine gave a loud beep.

"God, I hate your fucking message,"
said Becca's voice from the machine,
"you sound like a total
douche."
There was a long pause while it sounded like she was
trying to muffle the phone.
"Listen, Tyler...I've tried calling
your cell. Please call me back. Please. I think I'm in trouble
here. I really think I'm in trouble. I need help, and you're the
only one-" But
her voice was cut off by another beep from the
machine.

Max stood again. Becca was in trouble! He
had to help her! He concentrated, and felt a distant buzzing in his
mind. He turned toward the east wall of the apartment. Becca was in
that direction, but a long way away, farther than anyone he had
ever tried to find.

Max took a look back at the door, then
charged for the wall, passing through it.

______________________

"Hey," General Stearnes said. "Hey, help.
What's happening with this one?"

They turned toward him. Heather had sagged
forward, her metal features running downward. The hand that held
Stearnes pinned to the wall was disappearing, blowing away into the
air like a stream of metallic dust.

"Heather!" Brandon zoomed across the room
and put a hand to her face. "What's wrong?"

"Get away from her!" Simon jumped toward
him, and the invisible hand wrapped around Brandon and
squeezed.

"I'm trying to...aghh..." The hand
constricted Brandon's chest, he couldn't get out any more
words.

Heather's body melted away and a swirl of
wind ran around the room.

Becca tried to reach her mind.
HHEATHER?
WHERE ARE YOUU?

The swirl of air coalesced in the center of
the room and Heather stood there, blinking at them.

"What? What's wrong?" she said.

Simon released Brandon. "You
disappeared!"

"Oh...I'm just tired, I guess. Tired." She
sagged to the floor, and her legs and lower body began to melt into
an imitation of the tile floor.

"Heather!" Simon leapt over to her and tried
to lift her from the floor, but her body continued to melt away and
become one with the floor. "Heather! Stop!"

"I'm tired," she said, and her body slipped
between his fingers and settled to the floor.

"This is all my fault," Simon said. "I'm
sorry...so sorry..."

Heather, now a second layer of tile on the
floor, did not reply.

CHAPTER SIX

"Stay in here, baby. Just stay in here."

Her mother's voice, carried to her on a
whiff of whiskey sour, rustled the tiny hairs on her neck. Heather
opened her sleepy eyes and looked up, but it was dark in her
bedroom, and her mother had already retreated and closed the door
behind her.

"What you doing in there?" a male voice
called.

"Nothing. Not...nothing, just..."

Heather heard something hit the wall with a
thump.

"Don't lie to me!"

"It's...ah!...it's my little girl's room.
She's asleep."

The door opened. Heather faced the wall and
shut her eyes tight.

"You'll wake her up. Leave her al-" Her
mother's voice stopped with the sound of a wet SMACK.

"Shut up!"

Heather squeezed her eyes shut and pretended
she was asleep. Heavy footsteps moved across the carpet.

Her mother's voice again, quieter this time:
"Come on...she's only ten..."

A large, dark form leaned over her. Heavy
breath washed over her in alcohol-soaked gusts.

Heather trembled and thought: You don't see
me. I'm not here. It's just a bed. Just a bed, and sheets, and the
wall. Not me. Not me.

Heather's eyes snapped open. She was still
at the bottom of the pool, still covered in a strange adhesive,
still unable to move. The bedroom, the strange man with his alcohol
breath, that had all been years ago.

She went through another series of
transformations, becoming everything she touched: her clothes, the
plastic. Nothing helped.

Suddenly, she had a thought: the water.
What about the water?

Could she do that? Could she turn into the
water and ooze out through the cracks? It seemed impossible to
imagine.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. For a
moment nothing happened, then she felt her flesh melt away. Her
skin first, then muscle and bone went after it, washing away into
the chlorinated water of the pool.

At the surface, a mass of water burst out
and leapt the side of the pool, forming a swirling mass shaped like
a girl. Heather looked around her, somehow able to see despite
having no eyes, just a watery sphere where her head once was.

A guard was standing several feet from the
water's edge. He drew his sidearm. Heather reached out with one arm
and a barrage of water struck the man, knocking him off his feet.
As he hit the floor, his pistol went off. As the bullet hit the
swirl of water that served as Heather's midsection, the
transformation was instantaneous. Her body became a thing of solid
metal.

She tromped over to the man, leaving a trail
of cracks in the tile. As he tried to lift himself up, she brought
one metal hand down on him, knocking his head back with a crack.
The man fell to the tile, unconscious.

Heather turned away from him, looking at her
metal face in the water. She reached down and touched the water
with the tips of her fingers. Instantly her body shifted to its
watery form again. She took her hand out of the water and
concentrated, and the water melted away to reveal her true
self.

But as she gazed at her face in the water,
Heather felt convinced it was not real.

It's not me I'm seeing. I'm not here. Just
the water, and metal, and stone. I'm not really here.