The Last World (13 page)

Zach could see the disappointment on his face and decided to show him something that would help him understand.
“Let’s get out of here before Rickers comes along with a shotgun. I don’t know about you, but I have better things to do tonight than pick rock salt out of my ass. Tomorrow I’ll show you something you’ll really like.”

That perked Steve up but only so much. The fact they were heading home weighed on his mind even while the dark shadows of trees shot past them in a blur along
Route 66. At least he got the chance to show his dad he had some power too.

Chapter 16

“Can I get you anything else?” The waitress was the type only small towns have. So pleasant and sweet you knew she was for real, despite your instincts telling you it was all a lie. She was young, with a little extra weight, but not enough to hinder her figure, and reddish-black hair tied back in a bun. Most likely, she was working her way through college by toiling away in restaurants and bars that also frequent small and medium-sized towns.

Winfield shook his head with a tired smile. “No, thank you. I’ve had my limit.” The limit he referred to was the three beers he had to wash down his California Cheeseburger and French
Fries. With her pleasant smile, the waitress left his check and took his empty plate away.

He watched her go
, and then reached to pick up the check. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and before he could say yes or no, Doug Townsend was sitting across from him. Winfield looked at him as though he was an illusion of some sort before the fact he was real struck him.

“Doctor, to what do I owe the pleasure? If it’s bad news
, please… let me have an hour of sleep first.” Winfield knew he didn’t mean it, but after the emotional ups and downs of the last few hours it was hard for him to even think about absorbing anymore bad news.

Doug
gave him a genuine smile. “No, your son’s resting comfortably. I wanted to talk with you about his expenses.”

Winfield made a gesture similar to chasing away a fly. “The insurance will take care of that.”
No it won’t.
A voice told him, but he already knew that. Didn’t he?

Doug nodded
. “The damage to his car, yes, but his medical expenses aren’t being covered.” Winfield moved to speak, but Doug held up a hand to stop him. “Those aren’t what you need to worry about, I‘m afraid. I wanted to inform you about something far more dangerous.”

Winfield waited for him to continue
, but when he didn’t he motioned him to proceed. “What?” He didn’t like anything taking so long, especially when it was something to do with his son’s safety and well-being.

Doug looked him in the eyes. “Has Franklin ever displayed… psychic abilities before?”

Winfield sat there staring at the man.
Psychic ability? Has he been drinking?
After his pause, Winfield shook his head. It was best to keep things in perspective. “None. He’s your average twenty-one-year-old.” Doug nodded as his gaze dropped toward the table in obvious thought. The sight caused the warning bells in Winfield’s head to start ringing. “Why do you ask?”

Doug paused for a second as he organized his thoughts
, then shrugged. “There have been many cases where a person with a growth in a certain portion of their brain display psychic abilities. Those cases are largely hypothetical, but it could be a potential problem.”

Winfield leaned forward. “Are you saying my son has a tumor?” His eyes shook while focusing on Doug, a sure sign of exhaustion and anger. He’d heard of such things before, back in the eighties when the Soviets were experimenting with creating a new kind of soldier. While it never went anywhere
, the United States still performed their own experiments. He remembered the documents as easily as though he had them on the table before him. 

Doug looked him in the eye and
, without flinching, answered, “No, he’s different now, or haven’t you noticed?’

“What the hell… what’s going on?” Winfield stood up only to
find himself standing in to the Pentagon during those odd days when science mixed with myth and science fiction. Something was wrong, he knew he should be in a restaurant but… wasn’t he also supposed to be at a hospital? Confused, he began rubbing his eyes when a hand reached out of nowhere and touched his right shoulder. The unexpected contact caused him to jerk upright in his chair across from Franklin’s bed wide awake.

The room around him was dark except for the soft light emanating from the medical equipment surrounding the head portion of Franklin’s bed. With his initial confusion disappearing, he remembered he’d rented a room, eaten a quick dinner, and came here to stay with his son. He must’ve fallen asleep in the chair, an embarrassing admission considering Winfield was used to being awake for days at a time. With his mind clear and the sight of his son sleeping peacefully, he noticed the man standing by his right side. Despite the white coat
, the doctor blended with the room.

“May I ask what you are doing here?” The Doctor’s voice was curt and demanding
, but at least he had the decency to keep it low. He was the type of person Winfield was accustomed to dealing with on a daily basis. It didn’t take him long to understand it wasn’t Doctor Doug, but an older, more respectable looking man with thick, black-rimmed glasses and a nametag that read Forbes, or so he thought. The lighting coming from the medical displays wasn’t as proficient for reading the nametag as they were for their own readings.

After glancing at his son once more to ensure he was still sleeping, Winfield nodded to
the door. To his surprise, the doctor followed his lead out of the room with a reluctance belonging to one that feels he is the authority.

Once they were outside of the room and in the hospital corridor
, he turned to face the doctor. In the better light of the corridor, he could see the nametag and took the small victory at reading the man’s name correctly the first time. “I’m Franklin’s father, and I’m here to see my son.”

“I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t a hotel…”

The tone of Doctor Forbes’ voice told him this would be a battle so he raised a hand to silence him before he could get started. “I’m not causing any harm. In fact, I doubt it would be a bad thing for him to see me when he wakes.” Winfield kept his voice even and controlled just as he would when talking with one of his superiors or an equal ranking officer.

Doctor Forbes paused for a moment and allowed his gaze to lower to the floor. It was a move many often mistook for relenting
, but in reality, he was reloading. He didn’t often have confrontations like these, and he wasn’t about to lose one. Technically, he didn’t have to allow anyone to stay if he didn’t feel it was appropriate, but he had a feeling he was on the losing side of this no matter what approach he took. He was curious as to who allowed him to remain to begin with; that was the one he would have to deal with once this was all over. He didn’t appreciate having his authority being pushed aside and trampled on by some out-of-towner.

“That may be true
,” He paused, lifting his gaze from the floor until it was even with Winfield’s. His piercing gray eyes met the other’s steel-blues, creating a standoff, “but I cannot allow you, or anyone else for that matter, to break hospital regulations.”

Regulations be damned!
The fact that such a thought found its way into his mind gave Winfield a brief pause for concern, but it didn’t last. “Have you any children, Doctor?” He paused long enough for Forbes to open his mouth to say something then continued, not giving him the opportunity. “I’ve spent my life defending this country so people like you don’t have to lick boots to survive and I’ll be
damned
if I’m going to allow you to tell me to leave while my son is in there. Had you asked me, as is expected from a respectable man, I may have done so, but now I intend to stay at my post. If you feel it necessary to try to remove me, I’m sure the papers will love a story about how you overstepped your bounds. Is that clear?”

Winfield could see by the look in his eyes that Forbes was furious over being put in such a position
, but what could he do? If he called the police to have the man removed, it could possibly end his career in the small town. With little recourse, Forbes swallowed as much pride as possible. “I merely wanted to know why you were sleeping there. If you don’t mind, I’ll finish my rounds and we can discuss this then.” Without another word, Forbes strode down the corridor, the squeaking from his rubber soled shoes echoing off the walls until he entered another patient’s room.

Behind him, Winfield heard what sounded like a quiet
squeal and muffled laughter. Turning to face the sound, he was greeted by two smiling nurses giving him the thumbs up gesture. He assumed Forbes wasn’t well-liked when he first saw him and he was apparently correct.

Inside the room behind him, his son woke during the exchange and smiled. Until he heard it himself, Franklin thought things like that only happened in the movies.
Way to go, Dad
!

*****

Steve climbed out of Zach’s car and trudged up the sidewalk toward his home. With the sound of the mustang driving off, he stopped and gazed at the house that’d always been waiting for him since the day he was born. While it was only ten o’clock, he knew his dad would still be up. Fulton would be sitting in his office looking over some figures for something or other as was the norm. As he drew closer, Steve wasn’t surprised to see the living room light on, that meant both of his parents were still awake and waiting for him. His mom wouldn’t say anything to him, she never did anymore, but his dad would want to gloat and proclaim himself master over all. Well, maybe not master, but it was close enough.

Steve was amazed by how tired he’d become just over the last few minutes since they pulled onto his stre
et. The excitement of what they would find fueled him after they left work and kept him going after they freed the piece of metal from its resting place. The one constant through it all was Steve’s mind working out his various ideas on the subject. While he’d never be confused with a rocket scientist, he was far from stupid. What made him appear slow or dumb was his childlike innocence and naivety.

Ever since Zach said he thought the metal came from a government test rather than a
n Unidentified Flying Object (UFO), Steve felt crushed, but then he experienced a renaissance of sorts. The thought that the United States,
his
government, had developed and created something so unique and impressive made him wonder what else was out there for him? At that moment, Earth became an interesting place again. Zach’s promise to show him something of great importance the next day only served to add to his intrigue. Steve doubted he’d be able to sleep, but then he saw his house sitting behind its chest-high wooden gate and a privacy fence comprised of thick shrubbery surrounding the property.

His fatigue from the long day settled on him by the time he climbed the four steps to the front door.
Steve couldn’t help but smile at everything that happened and would happen. No sooner had he turned the door knob and opened the door than he was greeted by the familiar voice coming from the study.

“Come on in
, Son, we have some important things to discuss.”

Just once, he’d like his dad to come to him instead of summoning him to his study. To the right of the door sat his mom in her favorite plush chair. A light tan base color with red, violet, and yellow flowers scattered over its surface with a vine-like design made the chair stand out, but it was soft and comfortable.

While he didn’t look to her for help, Steve would’ve liked something more than a sweet smile before she turned her attention back to her magazine.
Probably has something to do with her stories
. Her smile was as hollow as those on her daily soap operas. Although he hadn’t been keeping track, Steve was sure she hadn’t said more than ten, maybe twenty words to him in the past year. With a nod in response, to her down-turned face no less, he walked to his father’s study and stood in the doorway.

“Yeah
, Dad?”

Up until that point
, Steve hadn’t thought about how he appeared, so when Fulton looked up to see him he was surprised at the smile on his dad’s face. “Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise. I didn’t think they’d work you that hard.”

Steve
glanced down at his clothes with a tired intake of breath. His hands, arms, and pants were covered in dirt and grime. S
hit!

Fulton got up from his desk and walked around it until he stood just within arm’s reach of his son. In some small way
, he looked as though he wanted to hug Steve but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there and smiled. “Feels good, don’t it? To make something out of yourself?”

Steve nodded with his own smile
. “Yeah.”

Fulton reached out and clapped him on the back then turned back and took his previous post behind
the desk. The act surprised Steve, he could feel the pride his father felt for him but it only lasted a few short seconds until Fulton was back in his chair and looking down at the papers on his desk. He didn’t motion for Steve to take a seat and to be honest, Steve was relieved. He had enough of those damn chairs in his lifetime.

“I went to see the Bowen boy this afternoon.” Fulton
’s voice was even and sturdy, like he was reciting the newspaper headlines.

“Really? How’s he doing?” It was the
first time in hours that Steve thought of Franklin’s wellbeing and his concern was genuine.

Fulton shrugged
. “Good, from what I could tell. I went over the payments and other insurance items with him. We’re paying to repair his car for a thousand dollars and your premium is going to go up three percent starting immediately.”