Winning Choice: Try to sneak around the back to get into his house.
No idea who's in that car, but I'm done messing around with people in mysterious vehicles for now. My track record just isn't that good with it, and I really want to see Nicole.
I sneak behind the bushes along the sidewalk and cut across to the street behind my house. Well, to be accurate it's the street for the house of the people who live behind us. Cutting through their yard is the fastest way to get around to our back door.
Walking as casually as I can I work my way down the street. I'm guessing from the traffic I saw downtown a few minutes ago that it’s a little after lunch, so most people here are at work. Luck's on my side for a change and I don't see anyone as I reach my neighbor's house. I dart along the side of his house and out of habit I start to climb the fence before I think to just leap over it. I sneak through his yard, noting he should really get back here and pull some weeds, and leap quietly into my own back yard.
Realizing that "look before you leap" is a motto I should probably start taking a lot more to heart, I crouch down and look around our own small yard. Nobody is here, so I’m lucky once again.
I move up to our back door as silently as I can. My heart is pounding. If someone is in there with her, maybe holding her hostage, this is going to get ugly in a hurry. I sidle up to our back door and peek in the window just in time to see Nicole go into the kitchen.
She's a graphic designer, and a damned good one, and works out of her home office. I keep telling her she should get her own full office and out of our tiny place all day, but she refused to listen. I’m glad for that right now.
Picking up her favorite mug from the counter, she pours herself some coffee from the pot. She stands there for a moment with her back to me, stirring in some sugar. There's nobody else in there that I can see, so I slowly open the door.
She never locks it, no matter how often I remind her. Yet another bit of my advice I'm grateful at this moment that she’s been ignoring. I step inside and she still hasn't heard me.
"Nicole," I say softly. "It's me."
She spins around, eyes wide, and the mug falls from her fingers. Without even thinking I'm across the room in an instant and I catch the mug before it hits the floor. She backs up, startled, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Brandon? Brandon! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" She throws her arms around my neck, kissing me over and over. She starts crying, which is about the one thing in the world that can get me crying, so away we go. I hug her carefully, wanting to simultaneously hold her as tightly as I can, and not wanting to fracture her ribs. I smell her perfume, I listen to her soft sobs, and for the first time I realize how scared I really was that something had happened to her. I hadn't wanted to even really think about it.
"Where have you been? I've been so worried, I thought... are you okay?" she starts looking me up and down. "Baby, you smell horrible!"
I smile. "You are not going to believe the day I've had, and I really mean that. I'm not sure I entirely believe it. Sit down and I'll tell you everything, but before we do I really need a sandwich."
"A sandwich?"
"Maybe more like four."
A little while later, among the remnants of four sandwiches (and most of a bag of potato chips), Nicole stares at me. “Super powers?” she asks.
I nod.
“No,” she says, closing her eyes. I reach out to touch her hand but she pulls it away, and glares at me. “You’re doing drugs again.” She says it as a matter of fact, not a question. She stands up, her face full of disappointment and betrayal. “I was so worried about you,” she says. “I trusted you!”
“No, wait!” I say, holding up my hands. “I’m not. I’m clean. Well, clean of that stuff. Just… okay, stand right there. Don’t move.”
I pick up a butter knife off the crumb-filled plate where I’d destroyed the sandwiches. It’s not sharp, but it’s a solid piece of metal. I put my left hand flat on the table, palm down. Nicole looks at it, and up at me, confused.
Before she can react I raise the knife high over my head with my right hand and plunge it down onto the back of my left hand. Nicole screams.
The knife bounces off my hand like I’d stabbed a tank. I show Nicole the back of my unscarred hand, and then the knife, which is now bent at a wild angle. She gapes at it, then at me.
I take the crooked knife in my hands and bend it back into shape like it was putty. Nicole drops back down into her chair, her mouth still hanging open. I sit back down beside her.
“You do look… bigger,” she finally says.
I look at my reflection in the mirror on the wall by the table. It’s me, but as if put through a really subtle funhouse mirror. It’s the same short, tan hair, same blue-green eyes, but she is right. I am a little bigger. I’m more solid somehow. I run my hand along my stubbled jaw, suddenly self-conscious.
“I don’t understand any of this,” I tell her. “I really don’t.”
She gently pulls my hand away from my face. “You’re back, and that’s what’s important. We’ll figure out the rest.”
I smile at her, feeling relieved for the first time since I woke up this morning.
It doesn’t last, because someone suddenly knocks quite loudly on our front door.
“Who is that?” I ask. “Are you expecting someone?”
She stands and heads towards the door. “It’s probably the police.”
“The police?” I ask, grabbing her arm. “Why the hell are they here?”
“They’ve been here a lot! I didn’t know what happened so I called them. Several people saw you nabbed at the grocery story, so they’ve been looking for you.” She takes a breath. “Now, they thought it could have been tied to your previous legal problems, but I told them I didn’t think so.”
Is it really the police? Do they know I’m the crazed car-crashing nudist from downtown? Is it someone else entirely? I just got back home and really want some time to think.
Whoever it is knocks again.
I tell Nicole…
1. “Don’t answer the door. It could be more trouble.”
2. “I’m going to hide. If it’s the police don’t tell them I’m here.”
3. “I’m going to slip out the back and see what’s going on.” (Winning choice)
4. * "Okay, if it is the police let's tell them what's going on."
* I added Option 4 after a reader suggestion in the comments.
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Power Shift (Book 1)
Science FictionBrandon Stamp is abducted on his way out of a grocery store. He doesn't know who took him or why, and when he finds out what they want him for his confusion turns into terror. Frantically searching for clues to the group behind his abduction, Brand...
