Dwayne hiked up his pants and spat. Turning, he noticed a police car parked about 100 yards away and smiled.
Dwayne rapped on the window where Dale sat and held up the key to the handcuffs. He puffed out his chest, grinning like a Cheshire cat, minus a few teeth. The guy sitting next to Dale gave him a spirited thumbs up, but Dale just looked at Dwayne with a blank expression.
Ingrate, Dwayne thought. "Roll down the window!" he hollered, holding up the key in one hand, while pointing to it with the other, in an exaggerated motion.
Dale's expression didn't change.
Dwayne squinted at him. Why don't he open the window? Then he remembered the handcuffs, and also the fact that it was probably impossible to open the windows from the back seat, anyway. Dwayne reached into his pocket for the keys to the cruiser—the keys that weren't there. His eyes widened. Idiot!
Several minutes later, Dwayne had gotten Dale and Ralph out of the cruiser, and free of their handcuffs. "Well. Am I in the club, now?" he said, grinning at Dale.
Dale smirked. "There is no club, now."
* * *
Angelina Griffin stared at the man who had spoken. "Say that again."
The man hesitated, before speaking. "The launch has been aborted."
She fixed him with an icy stare. "Continue."
"We lost contact shortly before the scheduled launch. We then learned that actions had been taken to downgrade the launch-ready status. We are seeking additional information, ma'am, but our contacts are not responding."
"Go."
The door shut, and Angelina turned to the window. Explain this, she hissed in her mind. What happened? She watched, as the currents of the Hudson river carried a small ship downstream. Answer me! she shouted into the void.
* * *
Brian woke up with a pulsing headache. Groaning, he rolled over and rubbed his face and eyes. What time is it? Wait a minute. Where am I? It seemed as though he had forgotten something. What had he been doing?
"You're awake!"
"Whaa!" Brian flailed his arms, sending a pillow sailing into the air. It landed on a bed stand, knocking a glass of water to the floor. The glass shattered, spraying the floor with shards and liquid. "Gyaaaa!" Brian added, in response to the cacophony.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Brian, but you've been out for a day and a half, and I got excited."
The words didn't make sense to Brian. He looked in the direction of the sound, trying to locate the speaker. His eyes settled on a blurry blob. The blob gradually resolved into Jessica. She was sitting down and had a book in her lap.
"What did you do?" she said, softly.
Brian squinted at her. He wanted to say he was sorry about whatever he had broken, but his mouth wasn't cooperating. It felt like he had a bean bag in there. He worked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times, and it began to loosen.
"The time came and went, but the missiles never launched!" Jessica said.
Missiles? What was she talking about? Visions of playing Space Invaders came to mind, and something about it seemed significant. What was it?
Jessica continued, "and then Carol said they had stopped receiving Borae signals. They went completely dark. It was like they had just—"
"I got the high score!" Brian blurted.
Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"In Space Invaders. I destroyed the Mystery ship, and beat his high score!" He pumped his fist clumsily.
"Who's high score?" Jessica said, looking at him quizzically.
"He is delirious. He just needs more time to rest," said another voice.
Brian rolled his head in the direction of the new voice, to see another woman, standing in the doorway. She was smiling.
The woman approached the bed, and gently put her hand on his shoulder. "I should have trusted you, Brian. I was wrong to doubt you." She patted his shoulder, before removing her hand in a stiff motion.
Brian gave a half-smile. His aunt wasn't usually one to show much affection. He wondered what she was referring to.
"I do wish you had told me about the voice, though," Carol added.
The voice? Brian frowned. The words seemed important somehow, teasing something that his mind couldn't quite latch onto.
"Let's give him some time," Carol said to Jessica, motioning to the door.
Jessica nodded. "Bye, Brian. I'll check back on you soon." Before leaving, she handed him a small, silver remote control. "In case you want to watch some TV." The door shut.
Still frowning, Brian stared at the remote for a few moments. Watch some TV. His thumb slid along the smooth surface of the device, as he tried to focus his thoughts. TV. Brian's eyes widened, and the remote clanked to the floor.
* * *
It took a few days for Brian to feel like himself again. He had taken a week off from work and had used the time to catch up on current events. The President was now out of the hospital and on the mend. His attacker had been found dead in his jail cell. Investigations were still ongoing, but the consensus was that the attack had not been linked to a foreign government. It was believed to have been the solitary act of a deranged human being.
The alarm blared. Brian smacked it and rolled out of bed. Yawning, he turned on the bedside lamp and waited for his eyes to adjust. What a crazy ride the last couple of months had been.
And now what? he thought. Well, to begin with, he had to go back to work today. Checking the weather on his phone, he groaned. Rain, all day. And on a Monday. He noticed he had gotten a text in the TalonTalk app, and pulled it up. It was from his boss, Jack Martin:
"Came into work early, and my computer is slow. Again. Probably a virus. FIX THIS!"
Brian sighed. Was this what the rest of his life would be like? Sure, he didn't expect to be saving the world again anytime soon, but some sort of positive sign sure would be nice. Was that too much to ask?
Good morning, Brian.