The Beholder (2 page)

Chapter 2

Jason’s eyelids fluttered open, and he squeezed them shut again. His left shoulder burned as if it had been drenched in gasoline then set alight. He clutched at it, but the pain didn’t let go. His chest pounded, barely containing his thumping heart, and screams sliced through his mind, accompanied by horrific, morbid images.

The shadows.
They’ll kill me.

A chill ran through his crumpled body, and Jason forced his eyes open again. Emergency lighting had saturated the room with an eerie crimson light. Everything looked blurry, and no matter how hard Jason tried to focus on reality, the shadows kept haunting him.

Muffled footsteps approached from behind the door, and Jason gulped, though his throat was dry.
What if it’s them?
His fingers clawed at the tile floor, and he scrambled desperately to the corner of the room, needing to conceal himself before the shadows found him. His mind worked frantically, trying to think past the agony still roaring in his stomach, but he could see nowhere to hide. With no other options available, he propped himself against the wall, panting, expecting the worst.

The door burst open, and a dark form barged into the room.

“He’s here!” Matt yelled.

Matt,
Jason thought and slumped with relief, his forehead beaded with sweat. His vision still blurred, but he made out Debbie’s blurry silhouette looming behind Matt. Both dropped to their knees and started peppering him with questions until their voices merged into white noise. Jason cringed, wanting to plug his ears, do anything to shut off the gale of sound, but his right hand was still occupied with gripping his burning shoulder.

“Stop yelling,” he groaned. “I’m fine.”

Gradually the pain receded, and the room came into focus. Two pairs of anxious eyes stared down at him.

“You okay?” Matt asked.

“What happened to you?” Debbie demanded, her voice shrill with alarm. “I think we need to call a doctor.”

Jason shook his head, nauseous at the very thought of seeing a doctor. “I told you I’m fine. It’s just my stomach. There’s no need to call anyone.” He started to scramble to his feet, wanting to reassure his friends. “What about the presentation?”

Matt gently pushed him back up against the wall. “Whoa, man! Stay put for a while.”

For once, Jason didn’t argue. Now that the pain had faded he felt hollow, empty, too weak to control his body.

“The clients left soon after the lightning struck the neighboring building,” Matt said. “Totally freaked them out.”

“They told us they’d give us a call,” Debbie said.

“Great. That means they’ll never give us a call,” Jason muttered. “Evelyn is going to
kill
me.”

Debbie snorted, stroking the mess of his hair back from his sweaty brow. “As if this was your fault. Don’t worry about any of that, Jason. It’s just important that you’re all right.”

Yeah, but for how long?
Jason silently wondered.

The emergency lighting clicked back to normal as the power resumed, and Matt and Debbie headed back to work. Jason promised to join them soon, but said he still needed a few minutes in the bathroom. He wanted to take a closer look at the mirror. Now that he was feeling closer to normal, he needed to examine the bloody message. But when he peered into the mirror, the reflecting surface held no marks at all—definitely no words painted in blood.

“I’ve gone insane,” he informed his grim reflection.

In fact, his reflection was not only grim, it was a sorry sight. The pain had dulled his sky blue eyes then rimmed them with red, leaving them to burn under the limp fall of his damp, dark hair. His square jaw was clenched with strain, and he pressed his lips tightly together to draw a crooked line.

Slightly recovered, but still requiring assistance from the walls on either side of him, Jason shuffled out of the lavatory and headed into the office. He was surprised to see light streaming through the windows, unmarred by even a trace of the earlier horrendous storm. For a fleeting moment Jason wondered if he’d only imagined everything that had just happened.

The rest of his day was consumed by the usual routine: reports, phone calls, talks, more talks. Not far away, someone tapped on a keyboard. The phone rang incessantly, but no one bothered to pick it up. A day like any other. Fortunately, he was lucky enough not to bump into Evelyn. He really didn’t relish the idea of discussing the afternoon’s events with her.

The blonde woman Jason had spotted earlier on in the elevator passed their office, and Matt floated off in her direction like a leaf caught on a gust of wind. Debbie’s head was down as she made blueprints for their projects, but Jason noticed her shooting uneasy glances every so often in the direction Matt had disappeared.

When he’d finished the day’s to-do list, Jason slumped in his chair, his chin resting on his hands. Grains of sand trickled through the narrow channel of an hourglass on the desk before him, and Jason watched, mesmerized, until his eyes began to blur. Behind him, the setting sun kissed the skyline of the city buildings, flooding the office with a mellow wash of red. The last of the sunlight seeped through the windows, turning the tiny particles of the hourglass into gold dust. Pleased to be left to himself, finally left in peace, Jason stared at the heavenly glitter …

Someone tugged at his shoulder and his head snapped up.

“Time to go, sleepyhead,” Matt told him.

Jason groaned and opened his eyes. The grains of the hourglass had ceased moving, and the sharp outlines of Manhattan’s office towers were ablaze, the sun sunk behind them.

“What? Go where?”

“McAlester’s,” Matt said, then shot Jason a quizzical look. “You remembered we were going there after work for dinner and drinks, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason replied, though he’d forgotten. “Where’s Debbie?”

“In the ladies, preening.” Matt puckered his lips and feigned curling his eyelashes with an imaginary brush. “She said she’ll catch up with us. Let’s go.” He grabbed his leather suitcase and slapped its side. “I’m ready.”

Chapter 3

Darkness brought a light breeze to New York that chilled the city’s air. The army of buildings in downtown Manhattan stood like a line of jagged teeth, piercing the inky heavens, with bright lights reflected in the puddles at their feet, the only vestiges of the morning’s rain.

Jason and Matt were weaving their way through the crowd when Debbie caught up to them, and they walked in silence towards their vehicles.

Matt frowned at Jason. “You know, Walker, you’re acting strange these days. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Jason lied. He was rewarded with a thump on his back from Matt.

“Wrong. You know you’re going to have to tell us? Either you do, or I’m going to thump you.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason glanced at Debbie, hoping for a little support, but she only nodded.

“I’m with Matt on this,” she said. “You don’t share anything with us these days. You hardly even talk to us anymore.”

Jason waved a hand, dismissing their questions. “Oh, come off it. Nothing’s going on.”

But when Matt and Debbie stopped, Jason was forced to turn around. Their eyes locked with his, until he lowered his gaze, then looked to the side. Anywhere but at his friends. He wasn’t sure how this was going to sound. Crazy, for sure.

He sighed. “Okay. But the problem is, I don’t know if you can help me, and I don’t want to drag you into it.”

Debbie frowned. “Into what? You
have
to tell us now. What’s going on?”

“How about I tell you everything when we get to McAlester’s?”

“Okay. You’d better,” Debbie said. She stopped by her little white VW Beetle and pulled out her keys. “I’ll meet you there.”

Jason fumbled for his keys in his jeans pocket, but Matt grabbed them from his hand. “You’ve had a tough day, bro. I’ll drive.”

Matt pulled into traffic, then glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure Debbie was behind them. Apparently satisfied, he turned to Jason, hunched against the car door. 

“You look tense, man. It’s not like you.”

“I’m okay.”

But he wasn’t. Jason was miserable. He stared out the window, watching people stroll carelessly along the streets, laughing, talking, or saying nothing at all. For a fleeting moment, he wished he were one of them, living without all the fear and pain. If only he could exchange his life for some else’s. Then he could live a placid, nightmare-free life.

“Let’s talk about you,” he suggested, wanting to think about something else—anything else but what was going on in his life.

“Me? What about?” Matt raised his eyebrow and flicked another glance at the mirror. He frowned, looking confused.

“You’re head over heels with her!”

“With who?” But his slight hesitation gave him away.

Jason chuckled. “Debbie, of course.”

“What?” Matt scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.” But Jason saw his friend’s knuckles whiten as he squeezed the steering wheel just a little too hard. After a moment he shot a quick glance at Jason, then looked back at the road. “Is it that obvious?”

The car moved slowly but steadily along the Big Apple’s crowded streets, and Matt made a point of checking his mirror every few seconds. They were lucky McAlester’s was only a few blocks away from Evelyn & Laurens.

“A blind man would feel the vibes around you,” Jason said. “The way you look at her … You dirty old man.”

Matt grinned but didn’t say another word. When McAlester’s came into view on the right, he swerved into a spot close to the entrance. Debbie’s headlights turned off nearby, and she trotted up to join them just as Matt was returning Jason’s keys to him.

“Ready?” she asked. “Let’s go. I’m thirsty.”

A doorman pulled open the restaurant’s front door, gesturing for Jason, Debbie and Matt to go ahead. Matt frowned back at the street, then shrugged and stepped inside.

As soon as they entered, a waiter approached the trio, but the restaurant’s owner, William McAlester, had already crossed the hall toward them. “I’ll take over from here, Neil.” The waiter bowed and retreated as William turned to the newcomers. “Good evening, friends.” He shook hands with Matt and Jason, and kissed Debbie’s slender hand. “It’s been a long time since you visited. I was worried you’d lost interest in the beauty you three created,” he said in his raspy voice, stretching out one arm to indicate the room.

Jason couldn’t help but admire the spruce fir-latticed ceilings, and the smooth adobe walls flickering with candles. He and his friends had designed the place, and they were proud of it. The atmosphere was stylishly relaxed, encouraging customers to either sit by the tall front windows, or settle into the warm, spacious dining room in the back.

“No way,” Matt said, smiling. “We’re always glad to come here.”

“You’re welcome,” William replied, then shifted his gaze to Debbie. “And you look stunning, Debbie.”

She glowed with pleasure, her cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. “Thank you, Mr. McAlester.”

“Please call me William.” He frowned, flapping a cursory hand at the rest of the place. “Everyone around here calls me Mr. McAlester.”

“I’m sure that’s out of respect for you, Mr.—I mean, William,” Debbie said, still blushing.

“Come,” he said, smiling. “Let’s find you just the right table.”

He took Debbie’s arm and led them to a quiet table by a floor-to-ceiling window, giving them a view of the brightly lit, bustling street. Debbie glanced over her shoulder at Matt, who returned her reproachful glare. Frowning, Jason watched the cat-and-mouse game, trying to understand who was the hunter and who was the prey.

McAlester’s had a reputation for excellent food, and though Jason wasn’t hungry, he ordered wings and potato chips, along with a light beer. Debbie, who got tipsy as soon as an alcoholic drink touched her lips, asked for a fresh-brewed iced tea. Matt, always hungry, said he would start with a tuna melt and go from there.

As soon as the waiter had gone, Matt and Debbie stared expectantly at Jason.

“What?” he asked.

Debbie squinted dangerously at him. “You know what.”

“The story,” Matt said. “You promised to tell us. Spit it out.”

Jason closed his eyes and sighed. He hadn’t wanted to share his secret for so many reasons, but the biggest was the fear that no one would believe him. Now he had no choice. He shook his head.

“I already know what you’re going to say, so what’s the point?” he asked, glancing hopefully between the two, but they were unrelenting. “Okay, okay. But first I want to apologize. I’m sorry I have been so withdrawn lately. When I tell you about this, you’re going to understand why, I think. Either that, or you’ll think I’m nuts.”

“Go on,” Debbie urged.

Jason swallowed, then had a sip of beer to ease his dry throat. “It started the day I moved to my new apartment,” he said. “The first night I stayed there I had a really bad nightmare where a guy chases a girl.” Jason paused, trying to decide whether or not to tell them about the girl’s glowing aura, then decided against it. “I was the guy. I chased her along an ancient tunnel, together with several other shad—” He stopped himself just in time, then went on, “—other men.”

The waiter came with their drinks, and Jason used the precious moments to try and think of a way to tell the story so it was believable. Debbie lowered her eyes as she sipped her iced tea, but when the waiters had left, Matt insisted.

“Go on,” he said, his eyes constantly watching the entrance to the restaurant.

Jason rubbed his brow hard. Though he hated the conversation, talking about the experience seemed to help ease his inner tension. “After that I had more dreams where it was me who was being chased by the men. And each time they managed to catch me, then torture me to death.”

Debbie twitched her eyebrows and shrugged. “So? Everyone has nightmares.  Your dreams may be the result of excessive stress: moving to a new apartment, the presentation, and other challenges. You just need to relax more.”

“No, Debbie. It’s more than that.”

She clicked her tongue and smiled, leaning back in her chair. “Come on, Jason. They’re just dreams!”

“No, they aren’t! That’s the thing. These things are happening in real life!” he burst out. “The people in my dreams writhe in blinding agony
while I am inside their minds!”
He shuddered but pressed on. “Have you ever felt your flesh being ripped to shreds? I
feel
it!”

Debbie fidgeted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. Jason saw her exchange a glance with Matt, but he couldn’t contain his stern tone. They had wanted to know, and now that he was sharing, he couldn’t stop. And he needed them to believe him.

“And it’s not only that. Every time I see a dream,” he continued, “my left shoulder hurts. It feels as if it’s going to crumble to pieces.”

Debbie sighed. “I believe you. It’s just … All I’m saying is you have nothing to worry about. Let’s analyze what you’ve dreamed about so far. You said you were running through an ancient tunnel, right? Well, to begin with, there are no ancient tunnels in New York.”

“This is exactly what I expected from you.” He shot her an acidic look and turned away.

“For goodness’ sake, Jason,” she persisted. “You don’t have to be mean. Just forget about it.”

He sighed and softened his tone. It wasn’t her fault. “I knew you weren’t going to believe me.” 
And I didn’t even get to the part about how those people glowed,
he thought.

Matt had kept silent through their exchange, his eyes distracted in the direction of the front door. Suddenly he sat straighter.

“Uh-oh,” he said quietly.