Chapter 5 Where's Mike

The weekend always seemed to come and go so quickly Jack was thinking to himself. He was on his way to work that Monday morning. Not sleeping in the same room, Jack didn't have to worry about making noise. He was exciting for their wedding. It was only a few weeks away and they had all the planning done. Now they just needed to get to the rehearsal done the week before and then it would all be done except for the actual celebration.

The level of excitement that Jack had for this moment was palpable. He could see it in his mind now. Her walking down the aisle flowers in hand. Her dress glistening off the sun giving her an even more astounding glow. Her radiating smile turned on him that made it like a sledgehammer to the diaphragm. Even now he could feel his shortness of breath and tears filling his eyes. She truly was the one for him. His soulmate. His happily ever after.

Jack let thought linger a little longer as he turned into work and parked his car. Finally setting aside the thought to think on later he grabbed the keys, turned and pulled them from the ignition. This was the part where Jack would sit and contemplate calling off. Never actually falling through with it, because he knew full well he needed the money. Still it was always a nice thought being able to call off. A nice thought and one that tormented him all day. But still… A nice thought…

He looked at the time and saw it read 6:50. He had ten minutes before his shift started so he had about five to contemplate calling off. What I wouldn't give to have enough money to just go home and spend time with Kristy, he thought musingly to himself.

Now pushing the thought from his mind he got out of his car and locked his door. He was hoping today would be better, but he knew better than to think such things. More than likely Mike would be in a bad mood and the machine would be in a mood causing all sorts of downtime and issues.

Downtime… Jack couldn't help but laugh at the thought. Anymore it seemed that it was all the company cared about. Not that it meant they would fix the problems. Just meant they were going to yell at you for not making quotas and not having at least a ninety two percent uptime. Meaning the machine needed to run that much in any given shift. With that he trudged through the doors and went to the time clock.

The beginning of the shift was like any other. Going through the motions and making sure everything went as smooth as possible. The only thing that was different was the fact that Mike wasn't there. He wasn't the type to call off without good reason but according to Jack's supervisor, he never called or left a message. It made Jack feel uneasy for the remainder of the shift. He was worried about Mike and thought about going to his place to check up on him. Unfortunately he had no idea where the guy lived.

He could just call but the thought didn't sit as well because he wouldn't be able to read Mike's body language to know if he was actually okay. Jack thought for a little longer on the idea of just calling, and if nothing else at least he would know Mike was alive. Grabbing his phone he looked for Mike's contact in his phone. Finding it he touched the call button next to it.

It rang for what seemed like an eternity and then went to his voicemail. Jack's pulse quickened. He now had a need to know if Mike was okay. He called Kristy. She picked up after the second ring.

"Hello?" A touch of concern to her voice.

It wasn't often that he called her and definitely not this early into the shift. "Hey do you think you could let me borrow some of your skills?"

"What kind of skills?" She said mischievously.

"I need you to find out where Mike lives. He's not at work today and I'm pretty sure it's close to the anniversary of his wife's death. I'm worried about him."

The humor that had been in Kristy's voice was gone. "I'll text you as soon as I know."

"Thank you Kristy. I got to go now. I love you. You're the best!"

"I love you too. And I know."

Jack hung up the phone and went back to work. It wouldn't take her long, but Mike was a pretty private guy.

Sometime later Jack felt a vibration in his pocket. Ducking out of sight of the supervisor's office he opened his phone up and looked to see that Kristy had done it. She was good at things like this. It made him a little unnerved, but at the moment he praised her for it. Jack texted her back thanking her and sent the kissing face emoji.

The rest of the day seemed to drag in the suspense of seeing if everything was okay with Mike. Jack went around asking everyone else at the shop if they had heard from him and no one had. This only increased Jack's anxiousness to get out of work and over to Mike's house.

Slowly time ticked by until finally it hit 6:55. The oncoming shift should be at the plant time clock any minute. When Jack saw his counterpart he felt a sense of relief wash over him. Jack's replacement Donald was a fairly competent guy. Jack gave his pass down report to him.

"Nothing special going on today. Just be sure you keep it slow on heavyweight. The boilers are acting up so we're not getting good enough heat for heavier medium rolls. Other than that I have nothing else to report."

Donald replied, "Alright man sounds good. Have a good night and I will see you in the morning."

Jack clocked out and as he headed for the door Donald stopped him. "Hey where was Mike today?"

"I don't know. I'm heading over to his place now to see if he's okay. He didn't answer any of my calls nor did he return them." Jack said hoping that his sense of urgency would be enough to keep Donald from wanting to talk further.

"He's probably just passed out drunk on his couch. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you." Donald said politely.

Jack eyed him knowing Donald was just trying to ease his tension. It just didn't sit well with him to think that someone could be that dismissive of another. It made him worry that if he didn't have Kristy, if anyone would do the same for him. "I know. I just want to make sure for myself. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened and I did nothing to help or check on him."

"Fair enough." Donald said shrugging and holding his hands up.

Jack nodded and then turned toward the door. Walking briskly as to not get yelled at by the supervisor for running. Though as soon as he got to the edge of the doors he shoved them open and sprinted for his car.

Once he got into his car he pulled out his phone to look up the address that Kristy had sent over to him.

419 Frederick Boulevard

Jack put the keys in the ignition and started his vehicle. He plugged his USB cord into his phone so he could sync his navigation to the touch screen radio. It popped up and showed him how to get there. The screen showed it was going to take twenty five minutes. For a moment he wondered just how many minutes he could shave off the time. He dismissed the idea with a grunt and put the car into reverse pulling out of the parking spot. Then putting it in first he made his way out to the road. There was very few turns to make to get to Mike's house.

While driving Jack was thinking of a thousand different things. He hated how his mind did it, but at the same time it helped him always to be prepared. He knew the cause of preparation was either from his parents' death or everything that had happened to him in the orphanage. Honestly it was most likely both. Kristy was one to do the same. They had brief conversations about wondering if the other kids from the orphanage did the same.

Jack turned into Mike's driveway. The first thing that he noticed was that Mike's dinged up Ford F150 was sitting in the drive. All its rust and faded red glory look. The tires were nearly bald and looked slightly flatter than they should be. Mike definitely had a death wish. Though he wasn't one that struck Jack as someone who would take his own life, but more someone that didn't care if something happened to him. The kind of person that didn't look both ways before crossing the street, or one who wouldn't change tires that could blow up or lead him to skidding into a tree. Poor Mike, Jack thought to himself. All this took place in an instant.

The next thing he noticed was how run down the yard and house looked. The house sat on less than half an acre. All around the property the grass was growing rampant. Notices were all over the door warning that Mike needed to mow. It was only a matter of time before they sent someone in to take care of it for him and charged him for the labor that ensued.

The house itself was a dull yellow color, and around the base of it mold had begun to grow. Once where a flower bed had been around the porch and to the right of his house was now tons of weeds. Some of the vines inside the weeds had crept underneath the siding of the house. The porch that was once painted white now had chips in it and different parts of the deck had wood peeling up from shoveling snow too deep. The windows didn't seem too bad other than the weathering they normally get after years of abuse from the elements. The roof had a few shingles scattered throughout that had a slant to them.

Jack saw all this in another instant and sighed deeply. He felt bad for Mike. He felt the dull ache in his heart. Compassion. For everything that Mike had been through and was going through now. No one deserved to have to go through what he did. Jack had tears beginning to well up in his eyes. He grunted and wiped at his eyes. Getting out of his car he checked in the side mirror to make sure he didn't have tears in his eyes still. Feeling satisfied that they were only a little red, he walked up to the house. Maybe he would offer to mow his yard so Mike didn't get into trouble. Or maybe he wouldn't ask and just come and do it anyways to help the guy out one of these days.

Jack ducked instinctively. Looking up a demon figure was on its accent after buzzing by his head. It wasn't until now that he noticed all of them zooming around in the sky above the house. Every one of them dive bombing into the house and coming back out. Jack took a shaky breath and shook his head vigorously. Now was not the time to be seeing things. Especially not when he was trying to help someone in such a delicate state.

Jack did his best to ignore the beasts of his imagination overhead. He walked the small overrun path up to the front porch. Walking up the stairs they creaked and threatened to give way. Three Steps up each one making the same noise. Wondering if he should be more cautious, Jack stepped on a loose board of the porch. Time slowed as the board came up half an inch. Being thankful once again for his reflexes he slowly took his foot off of it letting the board return to its rightful place. The last thing Jack wanted was to make a loud noise, bittering Mike's mood before he could even knock. Though he was quite certain Mike would be bitter anyways upon the knock at his door.

Being more careful about the loose boards Jack made his way to the door. He debated opening the screen door to knock on the main one, but decided against. The glass screen door rattled at each knock. He only knocked three times and then waited. When no answer came he raised his hand and knocked again. When still no answer came he opened up the screen door and knocked on the hard composite door. This time he gave four hard rasps each thudding a little duller than he liked.

Jack thought he heard something inside, but still no answer came. Realization that he might be passed out drunk he turned away from the door and let the screen shut. Halfway across the porch he stopped and felt every fiber of him scream at him to not leave. Mike could be in there choking on his vomit this very moment and if he left then any hope of Mike being alive in well was gone. In the back of his head he thought about the legal repercussions of breaking and entering, but dismissed them with a shrug. If Mike wanted to sue him for saving his life then so be it.

Jack turned back around and went to the screen door flinging it open wide. He brought his foot up to just left of the door knob and kicked in hard. The wood splintered from the door frame and the door swung in fast to the left. The door went around on the hinge and the door knob smashed into the wall beside it holding it by the knob in place. In the commotion he hadn't heard the glass door swing into the porch railing. He had kicked the door at the same time the glass door shattered.

Adrenaline had kicked in and every sense was on high alert. Jack's eyes scanned the room for Mike. The living room that he was facing was in a terrible display of disarray. The cushions on the couch were flung from it, a rocking chair laid on its back, the love seat had a hole in it from a shotgun blast, and the television that was to his right was smashed in by a bat which was wedged between the TV glass.

Jack continued to scan around and saw all the beer cans and liquor bottle on the floor. He had to have been at it all weekend long to have drank this much, he thought to himself. Starting to fear the worst Jack yelled, "Mike! Where are you bud?!"

No response. Further gripping its icy fingers around his heart he yelled louder past the fear. "Hey buddy where you at man!? I need you to say something! Anything! I'm here at your front door!"

Still nothing so Jack started to venture into the house. The place smelled rancid. Whether it was the fact that the carpets looked matted or the cigarette smoke had stained the walls he couldn't figure out where the smell could be coming from. He could smell spoiled milk and rotten eggs coming from the kitchen. He was going to do his best to save the kitchen as the last place to look for Mike. Still, with every step into the house the smell grew worse.

He walked through the living room doing his best to avoid all that littered the ground. To the left of the living room a separation in the wall was an indication to Jack that there was a hallway there. With any luck Mike would be faced down on his bed covered in his own vomit, but alive. That was the hope. Mike had to be alive.

Jack went to the hallway and peered in. His imagination was really screwing with him in this house. Smoky figures bobbed in out of the ceiling and the walls towards the back room of the hallway on the right. The only light on was the bathroom light at the very end of the hall. The door was wide open while the door to the room on the right was cracked open.

Seeing with the bathroom light he realized that the matted look of the carpet was from blood. It was hard to tell in contrast to the brown carpet, but where the carpet met tile he could see a small trail. Looking back he saw that it went from the television all the way to the bathroom. He must have got himself pretty good with the glass, Jack thought. In the bathroom there was blood on the cabinet and on the sink. It didn't continue to the room on the right. Mike had bandaged himself up enough to stop the bleeding. Jack was wondering if he had been that drunk if he was able to bandage himself up enough to stop bleeding.

Jack reached the door and took one last look in the bathroom. The toilet paper hung sideways on the role with most of it spilling on the floor. Blood was on the end of it where it had been ripped free. The cabinet that looked to be the medicine cabinet had blood on the knob and the glass was smashed. The glass had old dried blood on it. Likely smashed from a long time ago. Jack prepared himself to go in. He eased the door open.

What Jack saw shocked him to his core. A heavy weight of despair and sadness weighed down on his heart. He dropped to his knees and his mouth fell open. His brain couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. This person, Mike, a guy from work that he was with almost every day, now gone from this world. Another person Jack knew removed without reason. Tears slid down Jack's face. What Jack saw and knew to be real were very different, but it was so real that it was hard for him not to mistake his imagination from reality.

Mike lay on his back on the bed. A picture to his left of his wife and kids lay on the pillow beside him. Faintly wet streaks on his face from crying. His arm dangling off the edge of the bed and hand wrapped in toilet paper soaked in blood now dripping to a small puddle on the floor. Mike's left hand loosely held the SIG 1911 pistol in his hand. The pistol directed at his temple. Jack could only see the entrance hole. Mike's head had been jerked to the right. His pillow was drenched in bright red blood. Mike had only taken his life a few minutes before Jack had got there. If only he had sped like he thought about doing. He might have made it there. Jack felt his thoughts come at a distance. All of this Jack knew he could see and trust as reality. What Jack's imagination was showing him, he could hardly comprehend. None of it was anything he thought possible to think of.

The demons he had been seeing dive bomb in were doing so into this room. Hundreds of smoky black beasts were diving into the room to take turns drinking their fill of his blood. Each were passing in and out of his body at lightning speed showing signs of ecstasy as they did. They were delighted at his death, had no remorse as they screeched their songs of victory over this man.

Jack's tears flooded his eyes. Immense passion welled up in his chest. What were these things, to think they could take this man's life and revel in this man's demise? They had deceived Mike. Tortured him about his failures and shortcomings as a father and husband. How he had been nothing and was nothing to his kids. They reminded him of what he saw every time he looked in the mirror. Reminded him of every memory he had with his wife and every memory he wasn't making with his kids who hated him. Who were they to decide or define this man?! They were nothing but gusts in the wind! Wraiths to not be taken seriously! But wasn't that the point? That they came in whispers of deceit to slowly eat away at your being till you couldn't stand yourself anymore.

Jack felt something in him shift. Something behind the sorrow, and behind the anguish. He felt an anger build up in his chest against these principalities of darkness. It wasn't like with the man at the store. This was pure, and nothing told him he was wrong for what he felt. No still small voice in the back of his head. The rage he felt was pure, and not misplaced.

The headache started to form, but he forced himself to focus. He reached into his soul and felt the light come from the Heavens fill his entire being. He glared at the demons diving in. They were no longer screeching their songs of triumph, or gorging their fill of blood lust. As if he had triggered something within them, they stopped and stared at him. They screamed in unison and went to flee. Before they got the chance Jack let loose his anger. A scream of rage that threatened to tear apart his vocal chords left his throat, and with it a blinding light.

A waves of energy rippled through the air from Jack's body. It engulfed the demons in light destroying them much in the same manner as the dark men in his waking nightmares. There was not a trace left of them haunting around. It was eerily quiet, but the air seemed lighter, and the putrid smell had gone from his nostrils. All of it went away except for Mike. Mike still laid there. He was still covered in blood with the gun in his hand. This father lay dead for his children to be told of his decision. Not only did they have to deal with the loss of their mother, but now their father.

Jack continued to let the tears fall from his face and let the soft sobs come. His heart broke for Mike. It broke for Mike's children. He let himself kneel there and cry for a couple of minutes before composing himself. The headache he had been suppressing was now back with a vengeance. Pulling out his phone that felt heavy he dialed 911. The operator picked up, "911 what's your emergency?"

Jack's voice came out broken, "I need someone at 419 Frederick Boulevard in Mount Vernon Ohio. There was a suicide. Mike. He committed suicide."

"A patrolman is on his way. Please stay where you are and don't touch anything."

"Yes ma'am. I'll be in my car waiting." Jack said numbly.

He hung up the phone and walked out of the house and back to his car. He opened the Challenger's door and sat on the seat hunched over with his feet outside the car. Jack went to his recent calls and pressed on Kristy's contact. The phone rang only once.

"Hey honey. How'd it go?"

Jack sat there with the phone to his ear. What could he say? What was he going to be able to say? Instead of words quiet sobs came out. Kristy understood immediately that the worst Jack could have thought of happened did.

When Jack was ready to respond, his headache stopped him. His head felt like acid was being poured into it. He shook his head to rid himself of the feeling, but it refused to go away. In the distance he could hear the sirens coming. He stood using the car to help him up. If he could just hold on for a little longer so, he could explain to the officer what he saw…

Jack's vision blurred and his legs threatened to pull him down. For a moment his body went numb and he dropped the phone from his ear. He fought the feeling and took a step from his car. His feet were unsteady so he, turned and put his hands on the roof of the car. The pain grew stronger in his head to unbearable proportions. He felt nothing but that pain.

The cop car pulled in and the officer got out. Jack went to wave and take a step toward him, but his footing gave way, and he smashed his head into a large rock that lined the driveway. As he fell a few thoughts went through his head. One being that the officer must think he was drunk and the other being that he had forgotten about Kristy on the phone who was still asking over and over if he was okay and if he was there. The way he had turned to the officer, the back right side of his head hit the rock full force. Everything went black.