The Memory Painter

On the corner a street bum sang “Some Enchanted Evening” at the top of his lungs.

Bryan put some money into the man’s cup and used it as an excuse to look back at the two men following him. After he’d left Linz’s, he had driven back to his place, dropped off the journals, and then promptly left to go for a long walk, hoping it would help him cool down. He had become aware of the men’s presence five blocks ago.

Bryan kept walking. So did they.

*

Inside the Medicor building across town, Conrad’s office appeared deserted. His computer monitor flashed in the dark, casting a ruby light around the room that made the statue of Atlas look like it was covered in blood. The message on the screen read: “Security Override: Project File Renovo. Accessed by L. Jacobs.”

*

Downstairs in the lobby, Linz walked past the night guard toward the elevators. Her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and froze—he never called her.

She decided to pick up, forcing her voice to sound normal. “Hi … sorry I’ve been out of touch.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Conrad said, shutting the door to his office and heading to the elevator.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

Neither spoke as each waited for the other to say something.

Conrad finally asked, “Did you read the file?”

“I did. You were right. It’s better not to get involved. Clean break.”

Conrad got into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. “Are you out? Do you want to meet for a late dinner?”

“No, I’m already at home. Why, where are you?”

“Leaving the office.”

Linz looked around in dismay. She was right smack in the middle of the lobby and sure to run into him. The lights above the elevator bank showed that there was one on its way down, and there was a good chance that Conrad was in it. He asked again, “Sure you’re okay?”

“Dad, I’m fine.” Trying not to draw attention to herself, she rounded the corner just as the elevator opened. He stepped out.

“Well, I was just worried. Try and get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

He waved to the guard and walked out the front door. Linz peeked out from around the corner and watched him leave. “Me too.”

*

Bryan took note of his surroundings and saw he had entered the club district on Lansdowne Street. The men had not stopped tailing him. In fact, they were gaining. Bryan looked over his shoulder. This was bad. There was no choice—he broke out into a run.

They chased after him.

Bryan sprinted hard and was wheezing by the second block. He wasn’t used to running, and he could feel his body slowing down. He tried to focus his memories on Mandu, who was the fastest runner in the Wardaman tribe—Bryan might not have his body, but he did have his memories. Immediately his breathing began to slow, his legs relaxed, and the earth rushed beneath him as his speed increased.

Stealing a look behind him, he saw the men break into a dead run. They were both in excellent shape. Bryan pushed even harder and managed to put a few blocks between them.

Rounding a corner, he ducked into an alley and dove right into a dumpster and covered himself with garbage. Then he waited.