3 Vice In Miami

Pink glow washed over the shoreline from the half set sun. Day was becoming night in the city of Miami. From a typical office building window, the draw of a gorgeously exquisite sight like this made it difficult to concentrate on working at a desk.

A 6'2" shaved headed well built black man stood at a twelfth floor window and looked out passed the city wishing he was in his shorts down on the beach instead of stuck at his desk working on numbers for some company he knew little about.

Thinking back to the last time he left Cape Town for Cambridge, Lucas remembered what the ocean in South Africa looked like. South Florida beaches, in all of their splendor, would never be home. Still, it was beautiful to him with the fine sand beaches and the lovely American women that loved to run around half naked.

Lucas was raised in South Africa as the son of a very prominent and wealthy politician. His father decided his son would be educated at Cambridge University and then to Harvard Business. Nothing but the best for his overachieving son who moved through school so fast he was in College by the time he was sixteen.

On the night before his 21st birthday, Lucas received his MBA from Harvard. That was the last night he could remember what it felt like to be comfortable in his life.

Turning around, he headed back to his over sized mahogany desk and the computer screen that sat on top of it. A spreadsheet of different colored numbers sat in front of him as he wished he could just be done with it and head for the beach.

Just before he made the decision to turn of the computer and call it a day, the CEO of the company stuck his head in the door to his office.

"Damn, Lucas. You know you can call it a night," Larry Williams said to him in a demanding tone. "We, as a company, and I as your boss don't want you to burn yourself out. Go out and have some fun. This is Miami," winking at him with a grin that showed his sparkling white teeth.

"Actually," Lucas started with his accent, "I was just thinking the same thing." They both laughed.

"Where you thinking about going tonight?" Larry asked wanted to live vicariously through him.

"I was thinking Flavour. I haven't been there yet," he said with a smile. In the back of his mind all he really wanted to do was sit on the beach and let the symphony of the ocean wash through his mind slowing everything down. Given his current life, slowing everything down would be a wonderful change of pace.

"Sounds good. Let me know how many numbers you get," he winked again and walked away toward the elevators.

Lucas hated leaving anything unfinished. Checking out his office door to make sure he was alone, his hands started hitting the keyboard and moving the mouse at blinding speeds. It was difficult to tell if his hands were moving extremely fast or if they were not moving at all.

Within ten seconds his hands slowed to a normal pace on the keyboard as he moved the mouse to the save button. With a click of the mouse, he popped up out of his high back black leather chair and walked over to the door. From behind the door, he grabbed his suit jacket and hit the lights.

Approaching the elevators at a leisurely pace, he thought back to the night he received his MBA and the bizarre events that ensued. It all started with a phone call.

Pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, the screen read 'Father'. He picked up the phone disappointed that his father didn't make the trip out to see him and celebrate the night. After all, the next day was his 21st birthday and he had hoped to spend the day as a father and son exploration of Miami.

"Hello, Father," he said in a sad tone.

"Congratulations my son," Mosola said with a sternly proud inflection.

"I thought you were coming out for my birthday," laying a small guilt trip on him.

"I know, son. I have been very busy. This government is troubled and needs a lot of guidance," he said with a morose feeling. "I did not want to miss your birthday, my son. These things do happen though.

"I know, Father. Forgive me for sounding sad. It had been awhile since I've seen you." He had not seen Mosola in three years when he visited him at Cambridge to tell him his mother had passed away.

"Son, I am getting a call. I will call you tomorrow. I love you, my boy," hanging up without a response.

Visibly frustrated, Lucas hit the end button and shoved the phone back in his pocket. His dad always seemed to have a problem with time management when it came to him and the job of working in government.

Strangely, since the last time he had seen his father, he had no driving urge to go back to what he knew as being home. In fact, to him, going from Cambridge to Harvard and then to Florida never felt like anything but right.

Removing his hand from his pocket, a dark skinned Middle Eastern man walked up to him. He was 5'8" tall and a little on the chubby side with his frame. Looking at the lines starting to grow away from his eyes, the man was around thirty or maybe a little older.

Standing in front of Lucas, blocking his path down the walkway through the grass and tree filled courtyard, he stared into his eyes.

"Excuse me, sir," Lucas said with minimal aggression.

The man was casually wearing a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt that had the slogan 'What the Deuce' in white letters on it. His black and white running shoes matched the outfit giving him the look of Americanized immigrant.

As Lucas tried to walk around him, he cut him off, "Hello, Lucas. My name is Sam."

Sam's light brown eyes seemed to light up as he stared directly into Lucas' pearly gray eyes. Something was different about Sam, he could just feel it. His mind was burning with the thoughts of talking to him. It was unexplainable where the strong feeling of friendship was coming from because Lucas had never met this man before.

"Do I know you?" Lucas asked leaning backward from Sam.

"What an interesting question, my friend," with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. "Well, that feeling you have running through your entire body would say we do know each other. Yet, you are positive that you have never seen me before. Sound about right?"

It was scary to think anyone could have that much insight after only a few non-detailed words and a couple of facial expressions. Lucas was a little uneasy as he rushed to go through every memory of the last several years. There had to be a memory of this man or something very strange was going on.

"Okay. What's your game?" Lucas said impatiently.

"Tomorrow is a big day for you and I both," almost impossibly his smile was growing. "Tomorrow is your birthday, right?"

Lucas began to look in every direction for a sign of someone else he knew figuring this had to be some type of practical joke either for his upcoming birthday or for his graduation. No one around their immediate area of the courtyard was even paying attention to them.

"Let me guess," Sam carried on without paying any attention to Lucas' search, "you have had some strange things happen to you lately. Things that seem almost unbelievable," he had quite with his teeth glaring grin.

"How did you," Lucas trailed off without finishing the question as Sam turned and headed back the way he came. He jogged to catch up to him wanting answers to several questions. Collecting his thoughts into the right direction of question, he just walked along Sam as if he was meant to be there.

After about a long minute of silent strides, "Lucas," Sam stopped in the middle of the cement walkway and looked up at him, "I will tell you how I know all these things, but we have to do it over the next 24 hours. After that you will not have the opportunity to ask me again."

"Why is that?" Lucas' face contorted in surprise.

"Well, I will be dead," direct and to the point.

Shocking astonishment flooded Lucas' eyes as Sam turned and walked so fast he was to one of the parking lots before Lucas could even gather himself enough to carry on the conversation. His mind was overflowing with questions and speculative reasoning over the statement he just heard. "Was he going to kill himself? Did he have cancer?" he thought to himself.

Catching up to Sam in a sprint, "How did you know my birthday is tomorrow?" he ask as he tried to hide his trembling voice.

"I will tell you that in a little while," Sam replied with an air of mystery to the answer. "You were born at 5:33 PM and we will only have until then to talk."

Lucas followed Sam into the parking lot thinking they were going to Sam's car. Sam made a right and then a left into the middle of the lot stopping in front of a Silver BMW. It was his. After the previous conversation, it didn't surprise him that Sam knew which car was his. Abnormal things had been happening to him since he was fifteen, but over the last year these unnatural oddities had become much more sporadic and happened often.

Lucas whipped out the keys from inside his jacket and tossed them to Sam, "You might as well drive since this is your show. Where do you want to go?" he walked around to the passenger side and slid into the seat watching Sam get behind the wheel.

Sam started the engine and glanced over, "Your house. You are not going to want to be out when this happens tonight," his tone was so stern it gave Lucas chills.

His mind racing with ideas, "What in the world are you talking about?" Intense frustration built up inside of him. Life was changing, again, further away from what he considered normal.

"Look, Lucas, you will understand all of it. I promise," Sam smiled at him as if nothing absolutely bizarre was happening. Speeding off out of the parking lot, the interior of the car was deafly quiet. Minutes into the ride it was obvious that Sam knew exactly where he lived.

An old brick apartment building in Cambridge with where Lucas lived. The red brick and gray mortar could have been erected the day before the building was so clean. In fact, the building was built in the early 1900's and had been kept as a place of residence for students at Harvard Business School since its inception in 1903.

Lucas opened the passenger door, grabbing the keys from the ignition, and decided that Sam knew enough. With no one was around in either direction, he closed his eyes and opened them as he could feel a surge of adrenaline rush through his body. Every vein was flooding with burning fire as the building went from being fifty yards away to right in front of his face. He has shot across the lawn at such a frightening pace that from Sam's point of view he was just a blur.

Opening the front door to the building, Lucas sprinted, if you could call it that, to the fifth floor and stood leaning against his own door waiting for Sam to drag his body up the five flights of stairs. By the time he arrived on the fifth floor Sam was panting and Lucas was entering through the front door of the apartment. Leaving the door open, he walked normally over to the window and peered out to the grass and buildings around him.

Night was falling and according to Sam this only gave them a short amount of time to talk about the unexplainable things happening to himself. It was clear that Sam knew more than even he did about the background of what was happening.

"Lucas. Mr. Lucas?" a security guard in a blue uniform was waving his hand in front of Lucas' face. Lucas snapped back from his memories of Harvard, "Do you want me to bring your car around?"

"Please. It's time to go home, Charles," smiling nicely to the guard he had known for the past five years.

Life was a much different thing for Lucas now from when he was at Harvard. He went from Cambridge to New York where he felt and overpowering pull to Florida. He had felt it for a long time, but it was never as strong or noticeable as it was five years ago. So powerful, he picked up and moved to Miami within two days. For him, what he was searching for was in Miami or going to be in Miami and he just felt like this was the place he was supposed to be.

Standing in the office building's shiny clean lobby, his mind drifted off to his 21st birthday again. That twelve hour period changed his life forever.

Lucas was staring out of the Cambridge apartment window as Sam entered the room and shut the door quickly behind him. The apartment was modest and definitely didn't show the signs of being the living space of an already rich man. Slightly worn black leather furniture sat in the living room space and some prints of famous artwork hung on the walls. The most noticeable was the Picasso print of his Blue Nude painting from the early 1900's.

Sam wondered into the kitchen and pulled down two coffee mugs. Above the stove he opened the cupboard and found a bottle of eighteen year single malt scotch. Pouring it into both mugs he picked them up and walked one over to Lucas at the white sill window.

"No thanks. I'm not in mood for that right now," putting his hand up to stop the offer.

"Trust me, you are going to need this," Sam forced the cup into Lucas' unwilling hand.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he took a sip from the scotch and crossed the room to the couch. His mind was attempting to process all the events of the last few hours, really over the last five very interesting years.

"What's going on with me?" Lucas asked as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

"You, my friend, are about to get a very special gift. I am just glad I found you when I did. This would have been much more difficult on you if I was not here," Sam looked Lucas in the eyes as he sat on the love seat across from him.

"Am I going to become an Alien or something?" they both laughed at the ludicrous statement.

"No, Lucas. Tomorrow, at the exact moment of your birth, I will die," Lucas' breathing halted. "All the knowledge I have will transfer to you just before my death."

"Okay," he chuckled in disbelief. "Let's say you're right. Are you some sort of architect or engineer or something?"

Stern and direct, "Listen to me. This is no joke," Sam rose from the love seat and swung his arms around in animation as he spoke. "You are different. You know you are. This is just the culmination of you being different. We all go through this process."

"We 'All'? What does that mean?" finally, Lucas felt like they were getting somewhere.

Taking a deep breath, "There are six other people like yourself." Lucas took a large swig off the mug which began to shaking in his hand. "Someone like me will talk to them, hopefully, and they will have the same thing happen. Of course, the abilities, like your speed, will not be the same. They will be able to do other things that you will not."

Lucas took another drink and sat back. To him it felt like he was listening to a movie running in the background. This story was pretty appealing even though it was about him.

"So, you're saying that I'm one of seven people that will have unbelievable things happen to them and be able to do unbelievable things?" sarcasm was running thick in his tone.

"What's so unbelievable? You can already move so fast that no one can see you," Sam took a sip from the drink. "One of them has already had this happen to them. Think of him as the leader. You will be drawn to him no matter where he is in the world. You will wake up and just feel an overwhelming sensation to be someplace. Just follow it."

"Why?" it was simple and direct. There was no way of getting round this question.

"I cannot tell you that, Lucas. You will have to figure that one out for yourself, but you will be closer to that answer after your birthday," he walked over to the window. "You do not choose this, it chooses you. This has been your path since you were born."

Since he was born? Lucas struggled with the insanity of the conversation, but this man standing in his apartment had no reason to lie. He wasn't asking for money. There were no mercenaries breaking in trying to kidnap the son of a South African politician. This was just a man trying to help with the explanation that he was unable to find on his own.

"So, what the hell can you tell me? I thought we came here for answers, not more mystery." He felt none of this was really explaining enough of the situation in detail.

"Alright, you are one of seven. You will live on this earth looking just the age that you are now for the next, roughly 990 years. The last ten years you will age to look about the age I do now," he sipped the drink and walked back to the love seat getting comfortable.

Knowing when you were going to die was one thing, but to think he was going to live for the next one thousand years was something incredibly different. It felt like he was sitting with a fortune telling who was passing along random information about things they thought they were seeing in his future. You never really believe that these people have the ability to tell see the future, you just assume they are guessing by the intuitive nature they have to study someone as they sit in a chair across from them.

"It is not an exact science," Sam studied Lucas' face and saw the analysis working the gears. "This is just the way of it. Soon you will be at peace with it," a horrifying fact that Lucas' mind was having trouble coming to terms with.

"Soon, meaning on my birthday?" he asked hoping Sam would give more details.

"At the exact moment of your birth this entire conversation will become irrelevant," he said with a chuckle that seemed a little sinister.

"Is this," he was struggling for the right word to describe it, "event going to be painful?" He wasn't worried about how painful it would be as much as he was the extent of the information he was going to receive.

"Oh yes," Sam set the coffee mug on the table in front of him. "When you receive six thousand years of knowledge in what could be construed as an instant, it tends to hurt a bit."

"Wait. Six thousand years? I thought we lived for one thousand years," his mind was starting to accept this as reality. Oddly enough, he was comfortable with the insanity of the idea.

"We do, but just as I received the knowledge my predecessor had, you will receive everything I have," Sam's hands were waving in explanation. "I was the sixth in our line and you will be the seventh. All the knowledge of the people before me are stuck up here as well," he tapped on his temple.

Lucas tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Every detail in the texture of the ceiling he focused on brought with it a new unfathomable thought of what this all meant. Questions galore spilled into every reach of his mind as he tried to determine what it would be like to have this knowledge in his mind. Would it be like the thoughts of someone else in his head or like his own? Would the memories be in a language he couldn't understand? Would he see things from so long ago he wouldn't know where it was?

Sam could see the anguish spread across Lucas' expression, "You will understand soon enough. I made it through it and so will you. After it happens it will all become clear," he picked up the mug again and leaned back. "Besides, you have the knowledge, but it is not just with your every thought. It takes for it to spread out and actually be used. That is the best way I can describe it."

"Lucas," the security guard was waving at him again. "Lucas!" he yelled trying to get his attention.

"Sorry," he snapped back from the world of his memories. "What?"

"Do you need anything else?" he was standing in front of him with his Mercedes running and the driver's door open.

"Oh. No, that's it. Thank you," handing the man some money from his pocket as a tip.

Climbing into the driver's seat, he placed the briefcase on the passenger side and closed the door. Speeding off in the four-door his mind reached back to that night so long ago.

"Maybe I'm dense," looking down at Sam. "I just don't understand what you mean by all this. Look at this from y point of view. You've told me that you're going to die tomorrow at the exact moment of my birth and give me all the knowledge you have collected over one thousand years and the five thousand years worth of thoughts and memories from the five people before you. Wrapping one's mind around that is a chore in itself."

Laughing loudly, "During my time, it was heresy and witchcraft!" They were both laughing at that.

Lucas collected himself, "What am I suppose to do with all this, though? It doesn't make much sense that out of the six plus billion people in the world I'm one of seven, just seven, that will be given this ability."

"Let me ask you this," leaning forward, "what other things have you been able to do? Be honest. I know you have not had anyone to talk to about this. Just let it out."

It was that moment when Lucas felt a kind of bond with Sam. He had only known him for about an hour and already the feeling of knowing him forever had swept over him. Not that the world made much more sense, but at least he wasn't stuck in it alone.

"You saw the speed. That happens with my entire body. My hands can type that fast or at least as fast as my brain can think." It was almost unreal for him to talk about. He pictured it as if he were telling a story, "I just know things. When I feel like I should go someplace, like you said, I end up going and it feels right."

"That feeling of being pulled someplace will get stronger after tomorrow." Sam stared into Lucas' eyes.

In his review mirror driving down the freeway on his way toward his house, Lucas caught a glimpse of a black Suburban with tinted windows two cars back. Normally that wouldn't catch his eye, but the tinting blacked out the inside of the vehicle. Typically that wasn't seen too much. It was made illegal during the late eighties due to the drug trafficking and trade that consumed the city.

His inside jacket pocket vibrated from his cell phone. Pulling it out, the call was marked 'Unknown' by the Caller ID.

Hitting the answer button, "This is Lucas."

"If you don't want to be locked up in a cell, lose that Suburban," an elegant woman's voice rang through his ear.

"Who is this," not too many people had this number. Not only did he try to avoid telemarketing calls, but he also didn't want companies on Wall Street calling for vital company financial information every other day.

"Right now that doesn't matter," the urgency in the woman's voice was growing. "You're one of the seven. The people in that car know who you are. They want you in their custody to use you as leverage." Chills ran through every inch of Lucas' body. He hadn't even thought about the seven and his conversation with Sam for the last four years, until that day.

With the line going dead, he closed the flip phone and threw it into the passenger seat on top of his briefcase. Yanking the steering wheel to the right, he took the off ramp just about to go by. Jamming the gas pedal to the floor he sped up to the light. Just before he hit the light it turned green and the Mercedes flew through it heading to the left.

In the mirror he could see the Suburban racing for the light trying to keep up. Blood pumped through his body as the situation grew intense. His mind was in two places at once. Trying to keep track of the chase happening and thinking about the hell would be calling to warn him about whoever it was in the car in the first place.

Immediately, he took a right heading through an alley not much bigger than his car. Loose garbage and paper was flying up into the air behind him. At the end of the alley the Suburban was still behind him and pushing to catch up. He turned the car right and then made a left into another alley. Thirty yards in was an open garage door on his left, which he quickly turned into having no time to think or feel any which way about it.

Closing behind him, he could see the garage cutting off from the alley as a vehicle he could only assume was the Suburban go racing by kicking up more debris. In complete relief he leaned his forehead onto the steering wheel. A huge sigh came with letting the air out of his lungs.

Next to him, the cell phone was vibrating from the passenger seat. He knew it was the woman gain, though he didn't know how he knew.

Picking up the phone, "Yeah," he waited for the woman to respond and wasn't disappointed.

"Well done," though he had many, it was no time to ask questions. "Now, listen carefully. You can't go back to your house. They're waiting for you. I'll text you an address that you can go to in the city. You can stay there as long as you need to. If you go out for your birthday you'll need to keep an eye out for anyone that Feels like they don't belong."

"Okay," wanting so badly to ask who she was and how she knew some much.

"I can read people's minds, that's how I knew," he almost dropped the phone. "Now, get your ass to the address I just sent you," his phone vibrated as the message came in.

Pushing the button to hang up the phone he switched over to the text messages and read the street address. It wasn't very far away. Getting out of the car he looked at the large garage door. A button on the passenger side next to the door was the only way he could see to open or close the door. "Who opened and closed the door?" he thought to himself.

Looking around, he walked over to the button and pushed it starting the enormous door moving up on the rails. Poking his head out into the alley he looked in both directions and didn't see the black Suburban anywhere.

Standing in the doorway another text message vibrated his phone. He flipped open the phone to read 'Go Now!!!!'. He did as he was told and jogged over to the driver's side of the silver Mercedes and started the engine. Screeching rubber sounded out of the garage as he pulled out headed the direction he came in.

Turning right out of the alley, he decided to use the side streets to get to the destination. Driving from light to light and watching the different buildings pass by, his mind wondered back to where this all really started.

"So, what abilities do you have? You said they were all different," Lucas asked Sam.

Sam stood up and walked into the small open kitchen. He bent down and Lucas heard him opening a cupboard and shifting objects around inside. He pulled out the base of a stainless steel blender and grabbed the wooden knife block off the counter next to the stove. Both items in hand, he walked leisurely back over to the love seat and placed them on the coffee table.

Lucas gave him a strange perplexed look as he sat down on the love seat. Seeing the blender base and the knife block gave him a lot of ideas, but they were only things he had seen on reruns of McGayver.

Carefully lifting the knives out of the block, Sam set them one at a time on the table in front of him in a nice straight line. There were six large cooking knives and four steak knives that Lucas had been sent by a colleague in Germany as a Christmas gift.

Sam put the empty oak block in-between his hands with his elbows out. Muscles in his arms visibly tightened as he pushed his hands together squeezing the block. Within a second the block gave way and crumble under the pressure popping and bursting wood into the air.

Lucas didn't know what to say or do as Sam picked up the stainless steel blender base and put it between his hands, "Wait!" It was too late for the protest as the metal crushed together and Sam proceeded to fold it in on itself. Holding it out for Lucas to see, a ball of metal and plastic resembling a wadded up piece of paper sat in his hand.

Reaching down, Sam picked up one of the knives from the table. Lucas just watched in amazement and wonderment of what was yet to come. With the knife in his right hand he thrust it down to his leg, but it never went past his jeans just leaving an impression where it had entered. The knife blade bent to the side and Sam set it on the table.

It was a lot of information to process all at once. Lucas knew how solid the knives where and not just compared to cheap knives. They were exceptionally strong hardened steel. A solid block of wood was just that and the blender base had enough metal and plastic in it to leave very little room to breathe.

"Okay. So, you're excessively strong," Lucas said pulling the wadded up blender from Sam's hand. "Bullets?" it was an insane question, but he felt like he was living in the land of make believe at this point. After all, there were two people in the room. On had super strength and the other was super fast. In his mind putting them together and they were almost Superman.

"They hurt a bit. They can leave a mark for about five or six minutes," smiling as wide as when he first met him a few hours before.

Lucas dropped the hunk of metal and threw himself back on the couch, "Now what?"

"Well, I think we should have something to eat. I will cook," Sam picked up the knives and headed into the kitchen.

Lucas pulled the car up to a rundown building in what use to be the Chop Shop area of Miami. Now it was mostly rundown buildings in a neighborhood people tried to stay away from. The number in his phone said 232 which was printed on the side of the building in faded black paint.

Stepping out onto the half pavement half gravel slab in front of the building, he looked around the area for something that looked like a place to stay. Two steps forward a loud mechanical noise came from the building echoing through the walls. The slab of pavement he was on began to move down into the ground. About the size of six parking lot spaces, the lift came to a stop in an area resembling an underground garage.

His phone vibrated with the message, 'Pull off the ramp'. Quickly, he got into the car and moved it forward right in front of the wall he was facing. Turning off the engine, he stumbled out and watched the pavement rising back up into the ceiling of the parking structure.

Another text came in, 'Put your hand on the yellow circle in front of the car'. Directly in front of the silver Mercedes was a yellow circle the size of a manhole cover. Placing his hand on it, a line formed in the wall to his left. It swung in as yet another text came in, 'Go in. Put your hand on the plate on the other side of the door. Do the same at the other end of the hallway'.

Inside the door was a long hallway lined with mirrors and a glass floor. Some faint blue neon lights ran the length of the walls. Spinning around he found a panel on the wall to the left of the door. He put his hand on it and the door closed. Doing as he was told, he walked to the other end of the hallway to another door and found the panel to the right. With his hand on the panel, the door opened up into a pitch black room of some sort. It was too dark to see.

Flipping his phone open the text read, "Lights," and the room lit up as he said it out loud. "Good God!" he said to no one.

It was a huge open room that resembled a modern style house. Thirty foot ceilings had white pillars coming down and magnificent floor to ceiling windows had images of a snow covered mountain scene that looked so real he would have thought it was if he didn't know any better.

Tan furniture was all over the living area with different tables and lamps. There was artwork on the walls. To his left was a sectioned off room with a door that didn't have a knob he figured was a kitchen. On the other side of it was another room sectioned off in the corner. Above and to the right was a second level that ran all the way around the open living area to the windows. Two doors to what looked like other rooms were underneath a split level steel, cable and wood staircase.

He was in awe that something this amazing was under a building that could, and probably was, condemned. His phone vibrated, 'Your room is on the second level all the way around to the end behind where you are standing'. Turning around and looking up, he could see a door in the far corner.

Doing the math in his head with all the doors and hallways in the space he figured it was close to twenty thousand square feet. Opening his phone to text back his gratitude, 'The kitchen is stocked and so is the bar. And…..You're welcome!'. He laughed remembering what she had said on the phone about reading minds.

Walking over to the couch and sitting down to relax, he watched as the scene behind the glass slowly changed to an aerial view of Mt. Rushmore at night with its light illuminating the faces.

"Absolutely amazing!" he said to himself.

Lucas had seen a lot of things coming from a wealthy family, but the depth of imagination that ran through every corner of this place he had never come across before. On the walls the artwork even changed as he realized they were LCD screens built into the walls running through an image program. Just as the one he was staring at changed to Picasso's Blue Nude he spun around the room looking at every panel which had become the same image. His phone vibrated with a text, '  '.

Had she been reading his mind all day long? He did have a print of that painting, hadn't thought about it until today. It made him think about the night he turned 21.

The day had come and gone without much to say to one another. There was some conversation about life as Sam had seen it through the years and what Lucas had already grasped. Not much needed to be said as the hours ticked down. Everything was going to explain itself when the moment of his birthday arrived.

At 5:28 PM the two of them had returned to the black leather couches and sat down. Silence fell through the apartment as the two lay down and looked up at the ceiling.

Glancing over at Sam, "Are you nervous to die?" Wondering about facing his own death would feel like and how he would think about it brought up the question.

"No," their eyes met, "it has been a very long time coming. My time is over. I can let you kids take over for the next one thousand years," propping himself up on his elbow. "A thousand years is a very long time, Lucas. A very long time."

Just hearing the words 'one thousand years' sounded like a long time. America was just over two hundred years old, which made it seem like a small child in the back of Lucas' mind. Would he see nations come and go as Sam had?

On the wall the clock read 5:31. Lucas felt his heart rate up some already. At the same time it seemed to be beating in a different rhythm than usual.

"Whatever you do," Sam was lying back down, "do not fight it. It will just scramble up the thoughts more and hurt much worse."

"Whatever you say," looking at the 5:32 on the clock.

Heavy beats thumped in his chest pounding against his ribcage. With each beat of his heart the room flashed with bright light that was coming from all around him. Lucas put his hand up to block the light, but it wasn't coming from outside his own body.

Faster and faster his heart raced and the flashing light became more and more solid until it didn't fade away at all. As the clock on the wall moved to 5:33, a flash of white light turned into a faint blue around a white cloud with a black hole in the middle. Moving through the tunnel at a rate that seemed impossible, he started to yell out loud in agonizing pain that was shooting through his brain. He felt like someone was trying to cram a watermelon into a hole in his head the size of a jellybean.

In the darkness ahead of him, he could see a pinpoint of light rushing ahead fast. Growing larger with every passing moment it was finally upon him. Dropping like a rock out of the sky, he landed face down in some sand. Keeping his eyes shut he could feel the sand in his mouth grinding against his teeth.

Spitting as he rose to his knees, he brushed at his eyes to be sure no sand would get in before he opened them. Brightness added more pain to his already throbbing head as he blinked repeatedly trying to alleviate it.

Standing up, his vision started to focus in on Sam standing right in front of him. All around them was sand and large dunes. In the sky was a planet that looked like Saturn with its rings, but it was so close it took up half the sky which was partially blue and partially black with twinkling stars. It reminded him of something an artist would render for a space themed painting or image.

"Where are we?" still spitting the sand out of his mouth.

"We are in an in-between," Sam was breathing heavy with each word.

"What the hell is that?" inpatience was seething out of him.

"We are in a place between my death and your life. That is about the best way that I can explain it. Honestly, this is only the second time I have been here and the last time was a thousand years ago," he chuckled and looked around at the scenery. "Not bad."

"What are we doing here? I was expecting to be in some pain, not this much, and then look over at you dead on the couch," the sand was finally all out of his mouth.

"Sorry to disappoint," he smiled. "This is it. You can ask me some questions. Basically, time has stopped in this place. Before I move on and you go back, you can ask some question and I will try to answer them."

"You could have said something about this twelve hours ago," Sam just shrugged. "Why do the Seven exist?"

"Sorry, I cannot answer that. You have to figure that out on your own."

"Will I meet the other six?" Since he had met Sam he didn't feel alone like he had his entire life. He needed to know that feeling would be back some day.

"It is the goal. You should meet up with them unless you are killed or they are." Sam sounded very emotionless about death.

"So I can die before the one thousand years is over?" good thing to know.

"Yes, but not how you would think. If you get stabbed with a knife, it will hurt and you will bleed. Even with that, no matter where you would be stabbed, you will not die. You will heal," Lucas' expression said it all. "There is someone like you on the other side of this thing. He or she will also have powers. Think of them as your opposite like the opposite side of a magnet. They can kill you."

"Is that it? One person?" his arms went up in the air.

"No," his face sunk in and looked solemn. "There is one other, but you will have to figure that one out on your own. In my time we never had to deal with the other one."

Lucas thought to ask, but didn't want to stop the progress. "Okay, two then. What about this knowledge you passed me. It hurt pretty bad, but I don't feel like I know any more than I did before it happened."

"No and you would not. You will need to figure out how to use it," again the confusion was splashed all over Lucas' face. "It is in your mind you just have to find it. Did you understand that?" with a sarcastic tone.

"Yeah, I got it," he replied and turned toward the sky.

"Anything else before you go back?" he asked knowing this was it.

"No. You said the rest was inside my mind. Besides, it sounds like you can only answer a few questions. Better to let you go and move on to your much deserved rest," he winked at Sam.

"Then, brother, I say this. Watch your back. Your time is much different from mine. You all are the seventh in this line. Remember this conversation as you start to gain knowledge and end up with more questions than answers." Sam trudged through the sand and reach out giving Lucas a hug. "Be safe, brother."

Turning away from him, Sam headed up a sand dune and disappeared behind it. Lucas looked up at the sky as the white flashes rushed in again. Shooting down the black tunnel again, the pain came back with extra force. This time he felt like the knife block between Sam's hands.

Just as fast as he left the sand, he was back in his apartment lying on the black sofa. Feeling something running down his upper lip, he reached up and wiped it away with the back of his hand. Blood was smeared all over his index finger up to his wrist.

Across from him, on the love seat, Sam's body lay without any movement to it. Looking at the clock on the wall it was 5:34. Sam was dead and Lucas felt sadness deep inside his heart.