"You must realize, the required funds for our future plans have been steadily - no, exponentially increasing in the past month. Such dire situations call for dire changes. Therefore, we have no choice but to concentrate our core energies in California from here on out." The man in the grey suit conservatively adjusted his thin, steel-framed glasses as he finished speaking. Long blond hair sat in a single braided ponytail that trailed down his back.
Edward Darcouver, 45, with slick, black hair and a thin mustache, peered back at the man in grey. Edward had ordered a burger, but he wasn't really enjoying it. Not like that mattered - he hadn't come here to eat, but to have a special meeting with his superior. Edward opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly reconsidered and turned to his wife.
"Where's Vance? He should be back by now."
"He's your son," Edward’s stepwife spoke softly as she shoved a spoonful of sweet potatoes into her mouth. "I told you we shouldn't have let him run off on his own."
"And I told you we couldn't bring him in here, Naomi," Edward spoke sternly, with a deep voice that would have sounded better behind a podium. "It's fine, nothing's going to happen to him if he walks around the city for a while. So...don't you argue with me," he quickly finished. "Don't even try to put the blame on me, Naomi - that's what starts the problem." He added that last part just for relish, and grinned on the inside. It sounded good.
"Oh, okay, so I'm to blame," she said, sweet potatoes dripping down her chin. "This is so like you."
"Don't tell me how I am!" Edward opened his mouth to continue, raising his finger, when the man in grey cleared his throat.
"Moving to California could mean a very big promotion for you, Mr. Darcouver," he said, each word striking Edward like a hammer. "On top of that, Zexaron is planning a large, wide scale cut in employees next month. And I don’t think you’ve been informed...since it's happening in the Pittsburgh branch."
Naomi took an obnoxiously large bite out of her chicken.
"I'm giving you this information so you can clearly assess the situation. I know you have the capability to do excellent work - President McCarthy has said so himself, so I'm happy to give you this chance. Take it, now...or you may be saying goodbye to the Zexaron Corporation in the foreseeable future."
Edward stared down at his plate, swirling thoughts around in his mind. After some time, he raised his eyes back up and stared at his superior. The man's green eyes flickered above a wan smile. Edward remained still for a moment, and then he opened his mouth.
"Alright," he muttered vacantly. "Thank you, Mr. Lee."
"You're welcome. I'm just glad we're all on the same page." Grayson Lee picked up his silver briefcase, which Edward suddenly realized the man had never opened, and began to walk out of the restaurant. "You can deal with the paperwork for the relocation after the move. Please ask your department to reimburse you directly," he added softly.
Just as Mr. Lee stretched his hand out to open the door, it swung open and Vance stepped inside. Edward's boss brushed by the teenager, stared at him intently for a moment with glowing eyes, then continued out into the night. Vance said nothing and moved on, ignoring the odd feeling that grew in his gut.
I’ve had enough shit for one night.
Even now, Vance wasn’t sure what had transpired back in the parking garage. He doubted the on-lookers knew, either. The old Vance may have been frightened senseless by the previous turn of events, but now the 17-year old felt strangely at ease, especially with the clock back in his arms.
Lights were dim and jazz music softly floated out from the speakers within Mark's Restaurant. Greeters and waiters eyed Vance nervously as the scowling teenager navigated through the dark rows of tables. They didn't have to point it out to him; he knew he wasn’t welcome.
His stepmother was startled as he suddenly appeared behind her, a sharp-eyed specter looming menacingly behind her curly, highlighted hair. She turned to face him, but his blank, stony expression threw her off-guard. Vance glanced at his father, who looked a little under the weather.
"We ready?" Vance asked impatiently.
Naomi snorted, dropping her napkin onto her plate and looking less than thrilled. "Yeah, we ready?"
Edward Darcouver, accounting assistant of the Zexaron Corporation, looked from Naomi to his son. "What is that under your arm?"
"An antique," Vance blurted out.
His father stared blankly at the object. "Explain it to me."
"Why?"
"I'm interested."
Another lie. "It looked cool, so I picked it up. Does that suffice?"
Edward spun out of his seat tiredly. "Fine. Let's hit the road."
Vance followed Edward with cold eyes as they left the restaurant. His father was nothing more than a zombie now, and - well, he didn't have a mother anymore, as far as he was concerned.
I never realized just how good I had it until it was too late...things were so different back there. Dad still seemed like a real person. But mom leaving completely transformed him. There's no other explanation. When she 'died,’ a part of him connected to her must have died as well. I want my old parents back...but I know they’ll never return. Happiness is an impossibility...just a fantasy now.
He thought of his classmates at school - the ones who hung out with each other regularly, whether it was to play sports, games, or just party. Vance could try and mimic them, like an alien species trying to mimic human behavior, but he never fit in. There was always an invisible wall separating him from everyone else. They all looked so inexplicably happy sometimes. But then again, they had parents, friends, and hope.
Vance clutched the clock close to him, wanting to cry, but the only thing that came out was a scowl. As he stepped into the car with his father, Vance realized he hated him. In the end, his own father had become just another one of the insensitive assholes who plagued Vance's world. The moment she vanished, their family had come to an end.
Then, there's Naomi. I don't have the slightest clue as to how my father met her...not that I care. She just seems so completely opposite from mom...it's like dad sought her out on purpose! Is he trying to forget? What other possible explanation could there be?!
Vance looked toward the front seat, focusing on the middle-aged woman fingering the silver-chained cross that lay gently across her neck. I can just see her now, launching into another one of her speeches on how I'm 'wasting my life away in absence of the light of Christ.' And she even has the nerve to call me spoiled! Spoiled? How could I be spoiled when no one cares about me? Spoiled, anti-social, negative, she can call me whatever she wants...I'll never give in.
Slumped down in the backseat of the car, Vance turned to stare out into the darkness. Raindrops poured
*************
down as Cliff zoomed out into an intersection, barely missing a head-on collision with another car as he navigated the difficult escape. Another set of brakes screeched behind as the police went squealing out into a chaotic sea of cars.
As the collisions began, Cliff kept the pedal tight to the floor. A truck clipped the end of the Oldsmobile, but Cliff continued to steer frantically, using the big vehicle as cover as he banged his way down another back street.
"I think we’ve overstayed our welcome here," Cliff said, slowing down a bit as he entered the alley. "Ready to go?"
"I’m still waiting for an answer," Eden said sternly. "Where are we going?"
"Well, honestly, you probably aren't safe in this dimension anymore. Do you have any relatives?"
"Not anymore," Eden replied quietly.
"I'm sorry I have to be the one to take you to the other side, Eden." Sadness and concern emanated from Cliff’s eyes. Awkward as he was, he didn’t seem so creepy anymore. "You can't stay in this world. I can't put my finger on it, but something isn't right here. The Dark Zodiacs are after you, which means there’s only one place you’ll be safe. "
"Where?"
Cliff grabbed a small blue device from his coat and leaned out the driver window with it. For the first time, Eden felt a strange aura emanating from Cliff’s body. The faint sandy glow both calmed her and scared her at the same time.
Moments later, a shimmering neon portal appeared on the wall at the far end of the alley.
"What is that?" Eden whispered.
"You'll find out soon enough," Cliff said. "Once we’re through, we’re home free."
On the other side of the alley, a scraggly man watched as Cliff and Eden drove into the shimmering light.
"Demons..." the vagrant whimpered. Neon blue light trickled out from the portal until it fizzled, crackled, and disappeared altogether. "The demons are here...they've come at last! As the world turns its back on God, they come! Lord...oh Lord, save our souls, for we know not what we do..."