Contemporary Fantasy/Fiction

With Nothing But Time

 

 

“The only certainty in life is change.”

I’ve heard that expression a lot.  Never really used it much myself because I’m not sure I believe in it.  Kind of ambiguous for someone in my position.  The life is continuous, and so is the change.  So the statement contradicts itself, if you ask me.  I mean, I can see the logic in it, but the thing that hasn’t changed for me has been my existence, and until I’m prevented from living, I’m assuming that all-encompassing facet of my being is going to stay fairly constant.  And the end of it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen any time soon.

On the other hand, my life doesn’t stay the same because it can’t stay the same.  Sometimes it happens quickly and sometimes it takes a couple centuries, but either way, it inevitably shifts, because I’m adaptable.  I have to be.

But I like to think that’s just how I roll.

I’ve had to do a lot of that, though.  Changing.  Shifting.  Adjusting.  Even amidst the strange, repetitive, consistency of my day to day life.  Some of which has been less than pleasant as time has passed.  Some of which has been the opposite.  One thing I’ll never get tired of is the trends of humanity.  As I make my way from one spot to the next, it always amazes me how we make ourselves feel so significant, if to no one else but ourselves.  How we live.  How we interact.  The passions we indulge and the conformities to which so many succumb. 

To me, it’s refreshing because it’s a new lifestyle I get to indulge.  Kind of like this one now in the post year 2000 times.  There’s a lot I can get away with in this age.  Things I wouldn’t dream of doing way back when I first learned I was going to live forever.  But now, I’ve got nothing but time.  Time to learn, time to adapt, time to survive, and time to have a little fun for myself.

Idle hands and all that.  It’s hard not to giggle maniacally to myself sometimes when I think this way.  Makes me feel like a villain from a James Bond movie. 

Some may call what I do questionable.  Maybe even against the morale code for which I once stood, but then I just have to shrug and accept that it’s one of the things I’ve had to adjust in my life.  Just like so many other things, that part of my life went out the window in the 80’s.  Seems like everyday life deviated from the idea of principle or chivalry once technology started making such significant digital and electronic advances.  No need for honor anymore when machines will do the “honorable” thing for you.

“Chivalry is dead!” I hear so many women say.

Yeah?  Well, what girl needs a door opened for her these days when you can push a button and it swings wide for you? 

I guess the fact that opening up your own door has become an inconvenience for you says a lot about someone.  Or in this case, a girl I dated for a while.

But that’s not the point…And I still won’t put the toilet seat down in my own apartment. 

Anyway, I digress.  “The only certainty in life is change.”  Well, I’ve never taken up being a professional thief for a living, but hey, there’s a first time for everything, and I guess this is new, so at least I’m avoiding the monotony of repetition.  Maybe even the definition of insanity too. 

I’m on a roll.

So now, here I sit atop a bank in Chicago with my ragtag crew, minus one.  Dave, a short and rotund little man who happens to be a whiz with electronics, coding, and all things CPU-oriented, is busy trying to get the back door open while attempting not to trip the alarm.  I suppose I could have told him I had the opportunity to supply him with an override code for the door, but I’d rather see him figure it out for himself.  It’s more fun this way.  And since I’m already up on the roof with Cindy, it just means I get more time with her.  Alone.

Ah Cindy…

She wore a jasmine perfume tonight.  The flowery aroma was fitting for her.  It drew me in, making me forget the fact that she bothered to wear perfume at all when we were pulling a job.  Just like she lured me to her and made me forget everything else when I first met her at the rooftop lounge in L.A.  I’ve seen a lot of things in my life.  As much as one can see from the eyes of someone with about a millennium plus five-hundred years of living under their belt.  But I don’t think I’ll ever forget being that enchanted, and subsequently wanting to pursue a woman with such ravenous intent before.

And trust me, I’ve chased my fair share of women.  Usually, that’s the way I prefer it.  When I initiate the romance, it makes it easier to duck out when things start getting serious.  I might be a womanizing prick at times, but at least I have the decency to not break their hearts.  If that roguishly handsome and mysterious man they’ve been seeing for the last few days disappears in a blink without a trace, all they’re left with is a slight feeling of rejection, maybe a sense of curiosity as to where I went, and definitely a good story to tell since they’re never going to see me again.  Besides, I make sure I treat them well during our time together.  After all, I can most certainly afford to show a girl a good time outside the bedroom.  I’ve accrued more than a little wealth in my years.  Why not share it with the lucky ladies who indulge me with their company?

Beyond that, I know it’s the closest thing I can get to ever being with someone.  Lasting relationships aren’t exactly my strong suit.  I’ve wanted to avoid that awkward conversation involving subjects like why I haven’t aged while we’ve been together for forty years.  Or why I can play Russian Roulette with myself and never lose.

That Holy Grail does more than just let you live forever.  Arthur and I didn’t know that before we took a swig.  When I remember it, I can’t blame the guy for leaving to Avalon.  His love life wasn’t exactly what I’d call a success.  I suppose I’d need somewhere to sort my thoughts too.  And I guess I sought my own place for that.  Just not a mystical island that nearly everyone believes to be nothing but myth. 

Or maybe where I find comfort is in a new life path.  Or with whatever woman I can find for a few days.   Maybe more if I really like her.  But that’s about as long as I can afford to let it last. 

Except with Cindy…

Her hair was tucked into a tight bun atop her head.  I’d love to see her black, wavy locks cascade down her shoulders and back, but I know I’ll be privy to that sight later.  Besides, imagining it is nice, as well as how nice it’ll be when that hair is silhouetted against nothing but her dark, bare skin.  Though I have to admit, the rather tight and form fitting suit she’s wearing for this job is a pretty good preview.  Especially when she’s working, the girl is stunning.  Part of me knows she’s trying to turn me on.  Even now when we’re pulling this little swoop.  It’s one of the games she loves playing.  The girl is a panther, ready to pounce whenever she feels like it.  And as she leans so perfectly over the side of the building to monitor Dave’s progress, I can’t help but notice how alluring every one of her curves truly are.  Or how well she knows how to display them as she arches her back and straightens her shapely legs. 

She looks like a pinup girl and she knows it.  But she knows it works on me, and since I’m similarly attired with a comparable suit I’d swear was meant for black ops, I know I’m doing just as much for her or she wouldn’t even be trying to get me going.

Nice thing for me is I don’t need to try.  One of the other benefits of that grail: eternal youth and stature.  Years of wearing plate armor and swinging around the sword and shield tend to get one into pretty good shape.  To everyone else, I’ve been blessed with an insanely high metabolism, a very proactive immune system, and a hell of a body.  Back in the day, that wasn’t as much of an acknowledgment as proving yourself on the field.  Nowadays, it’s hard not to feel some pride over causing a little jealousy from other guys, and garnering a few glances from the ladies.

And it occurs to me just how much my life has shifted yet again.  The standard to which I used to hold the women in my life…Before, they were damsels meant to be rescued or revered instead of a living conquest.  But there’s a flipside to that too.  Now, they command just as much attention and caution as an armored knight used to.  Whether it’s because they want to be pursued or respected doesn’t make a difference either.  It makes me think of Cindy, bringing my focus back to her.

In her case, I think it’s both.

“C’mon Dave,” I hear her whisper. 

I can’t help but grin.  “Thought you said he was the right man for the job.”

She turns a skeptical eye my way.  “Don’t get cute.”

I wink.  “Too late.”

She smiles sweetly.  “I thought you wanted to be ‘roughish.’  Isn’t that your word?”

I shrug.  “I can be a lot of things, babe.”

She rolls her eyes, tired of our flirtatious banter, then looks back to Dave who continues to struggle.

I sigh.  I trusted Dave to get the door open by now, hoping it wouldn’t take this awkwardly long.  I don’t want Cindy to think she needs to abort this little job of ours.  I’m having more fun tonight than I have in a long time.  And I’m hoping if we pull this thing off clean, that’ll put Cindy in a mood to have a little more fun later.

I walk up behind her and run my hand up the base of her spine to the back of her neck, massaging gently.

“Let me try to inspire him,” I tell her.

She tilts her head up at me in a way that says “I’d like to see you try.”  I keep staring back at her as I activate the radio I have attached to my shoulder. 

“Seven, three, nine, three, eight, one,” I whisper.

There’s some heavy breathing on the other end as Dave answers.  Apparently hacking a door is a good cardio exercise for him.

“What?”

“Seven, three, nine, three, eight, one,” I repeat.  “Don’t question it.  Just do it.”

He begins to protest, then thinks otherwise.  Cindy now gives me a cold stare, trying to figure out what to make of that little tidbit of information I just passed over the radio.  I can tell she’s not pleased, probably thinking I’m pulling some job of my own.  Then I wonder why she’s so touchy about it in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You knew the override code?”

I shake my head, knowing she’ll have no way to tell that I’m lying.  “Just a guess.  Most banks tend to cycle locks and codes to stop people like us from getting in.”

She narrows her eyes.  “So what makes you think that’ll work?”

“I didn’t come with you tonight just for thrills, sweetie.”  Yes I did...Mostly.  “I do my research.  This bank hasn’t cycled its locks since 2009.  That’s an old override sequence.  Algorithms that revolve around twenty-three were used a lot that year.  There’s some math in that sequence I just gave our fatty hacker, but it ends up getting back to twenty-three.  Trust me.”

“And where did you get that information?” she presses.

“I have my sources,” I answer, dismissing her attempt to dig up more info on me.  “You think a guy like me doesn’t?”

She thinks on it for a second, biting the tip of her tongue gently.  A sexy little mannerism of hers when she’s thinking.  “Not sure yet.  I hadn’t even heard of you before we met in L.A.”

“But you know I pay a lot of people to keep me anonymous,” I reply.  “Especially from people like you Cindy Michelle Glenson, age 31, born in San Diego, mother and father deceased, niece to Benjamin Glenson, known member of a well-established San Diego crime syndicate that will remain nameless.”

She’s silent.  I just laid down a pretty big hand.

Nearly fifteen hundred years of preparation for moments like this, which encompassed hidden stockpiles of wealth, including priceless artifacts from across the ages help me dig up info.   That, and the numerous investments and “business relationships” with people who know how to generate a lot of off-the-books revenue quickly. 

Take it from me, money talks.  With great clarity and uncontestable authority.  And I have a lot of it.  Enough to know whatever I want about anything or anyone, with some exceptions.  (I still don’t know who shot Kennedy.)  Also, it’s enough to keep prying eyes like Cindy’s off my person.  People like me, with lots of mysterious wealth, tend to end up as marks for pros like Cindy and her affiliates.  In a point of fact, her family, at least on her uncle’s side, scare me a bit since they’re pretty well-versed in their craft.  Fraud, laundering, heist, and simple breaking and entering; they have it down to a science.

Maybe that’s one of the things I find so attractive about this woman.  She’s dangerous.  I need to stay on my toes around her.  Whenever there’s a possibility of consequence for my actions, it feels…nice.

I might need a cold shower after this.  All this tension has me riled up.

“You should probably tell me who you are now,” she says after an awkward pause.

“A guy with lots of money, lots of info, who doesn’t mean you any trouble,” I answer honestly. 

She keeps that cynical gaze pointed my way.  “Then why are you robbing this bank, moneybags?  I thought it wasn’t about thrills.”

I give her a coy smile.  “‘Not just for thrills.’  There’s other reasons.”

“Like?”

I look her up and down, making it very obvious that’s exactly what I’m doing.  “Guess you’ll never know.” 

I turn around and look down at Dave, who now gets to the door open and gives a triumphant fist pump.

My focus on him shifts abruptly when I feel a hand reach around me and plant itself just above my belt buckle.  Another hand starts sliding up the inside of my thigh.  The tight material of the sneaking suit makes the sensation intensify. 

I guess the danger or tension of our situation is a bit of an aphrodisiac for the woman who has me in a delightfully compromising position.  That or she just wants the upper hand again.

Either way, she has my attention.

But, as is usual for her fashion, she soon releases me from her promising hold.  She plays the part perfectly whether her role is waiting or actively pursuing, and I’m helpless against the charm.  More so because I choose to be, but, to my knowledge, there isn’t a difference between willing or unwilling helplessness. 

I turn to see her sauntering back to the vent we’re about to utilize in order to enter the bank.  She’s obviously pleased with herself.  I guess I can’t blame her.

Now, it’s time for me to do something new, which, by definition in the context of my circumstance, is quite thrilling, if nothing else for the novelty of it.  But then there’s a thought in my head that’s never been there before.

We’re in a real dangerous situation here, and I’m not talking about some jail time if we get caught.  One of the reasons Cindy picked this bank is because there’s a pretty big pile of cash inside.  And when I say a pretty big pile, that’s an understatement.  Criminal activity involving finances lend themselves to preferences that avoid paper trails.

Yeah…This is a mob bank we’re breaking into.

I find myself wondering what happens to her if things go wrong.  We don’t even know what’s down there, and I’m fairly certain any bank that’s in bed with a criminal organization isn’t going to rely on the local authorities or security personnel to protect their investments.  Cindy treats it like a walk in the park, but hundreds of years developing instincts in all manner of situations is telling me there are quite a few red flags going up on this path, exciting as it may be.

A three person team breaking into a bank that was rumored to have connections to whatever remained of the Capone family?

Doesn’t seem smart.

I shake the thoughts away as Cindy gives me that “come and get me” grin, then slides her petite form into the vent. 

I’m here because I like the presence of danger.  I’m here because there won’t be any consequences for me.  Even if I get caught, I have enough revenue stashed away to make just about any bale.  From there, it’s a quick disappearance via whatever gets me gone.  Beyond that, if the rumors about this bank’s mob connections are true, it’s not like they can kill me or anything. 

Not a whole lot for me to worry about, I’d say.

Time to focus on the present. 

I rig up my harness and start lowing myself after my alluring partner, wishing I was below her for a better view.  We descend through the ventilation system to below the ceiling of the first story.  From there, I follow Cindy one hundred and forty-two feet through the ducts while distributing my weight evenly so as not to dislodge the unit from its fixtures.  Since I’m behind the minx ahead of me, my view is a lot better. 

I love that number she’s wearing.

Anyway, we reach the designated spot, which will provide us with the most likely chance of slipping through the laser grid that acts as active security.  Dave is busy deactivating the cameras.  He said he can give us a thirty second window.  Just enough time to get us through the grid and not enough to draw attention.  Anyone who does take notice of something like the little “glitch” we’re putting in the system would think it’s just that and nothing more.

Besides, who’d be dumb enough to rob a mob bank?

We’re in complete silence now, relying mostly on hand signals.  Thus far, everything’s good, so she breaks out some tin snips and gets to work on a maintenance access point.  I help her by providing light and by holding whatever pieces she hands me.  Her task complete, she removes the screen and fastens a few custom suction anchors onto the interior of the vent, then stretches another cable to her harness.  Just before she slides out of the vent, she gives me a wink from behind a few loose strands of hair that have fallen in front of her face.

I grin.  God, I love this woman.

I help her descend, watching as she scatters some powder below her, marking any lasers that might be an issue.  She carefully maneuvers her body between the rays of light, then reaches the floor and gently touches down.  She signals for me to join her, and I’m happy to oblige.  Following the same path as her, I begin my descent, however I’m given some unexpected help.

Turns out Dave is a little more resourceful than I gave him credit for.  The laser grid flickers around me, then vanishes altogether.  I increase the rate of my descent, knowing this window of opportunity is limited, even though it worries me Dave is taking liberties with the plan.  I slide down and meet Cindy’s anxious expression.

“What are you doing, Dave?” I hear her whisper into her radio.

“Helping,” is the reply.

“Get the system back up,” she snaps as loud as a whisper will allow.

“Oh relax, honey.  I know what I’m doing.”

I’m with Cindy on this one, Dave.  Don’t get too overzealous.

I come to realize it’s a little too late for us anyway, because the moment I touch down is the same time I hear a familiar and eerie clicking.  It’s a sequence of gears and levers shifting into place, the last of which holds the hammer now poised to strike a primer and fire a .45 caliber round into either Cindy or myself.

I turn and see the security guard aiming at me. 

“Well that’s not good,” I say to Cindy as I release my cable, allowing the line to retract back into the vent.

Things got a lot more interesting in a hurry.  But I lean more toward being concerned about the welfare of the woman next to me than having fun at the moment.

She turns, rolling her eyes in disgust when she notices the gun pointed our way.  That doesn’t deter her though. 

She doesn’t bother keeping quiet anymore.  She speaks into her radio.  “Keep the security down, Dave.”

“Wrong,” the guard says.  “Put it back on.”

He’s a big guy, six feet and probably about two-hundred and thirty some pounds.  He keeps in pretty good shape for a bank security guard, which only tells me he’s not your typical rent-a-cop.  I can tell by the way he holds the weapon in a rail grip and stands with his left arm locked he’s had training.  Probably ex-police or something.  The gun is a USP .45 tactical model with tritium sights.  Nice piece of equipment for security personnel.

Definitely not a security guard.  Even more bad news for Cindy and I. 

“You’re going to walk toward me nice and slow with your hands on your head,” he continues.  “Any moves and I put two in your head.”

I look to Cindy, who I can see reaching for something tucked into her pants behind her back.  Knowing her, she’s probably got a Ruger or some other form of Saturday Night Special hidden there.  I reach over and clasp her hand, looking her in the eye and shaking my head ever so slightly.

“I’m coming over first,” I tell the hired goon. 

“No,” he protests, keeping his gun trained on my head.  “I said both at once.”

I look back at Cindy, then give her a wink.  “Why?  So you can kill us both?”

He isn’t fazed.  “Shut up.”

“No,” I reply.  “We know who we’re stealing from.  Or trying to steal from.  So why don’t you show us some good faith that we’ll be alive by the end of tonight.  At least if we go one at a time you can’t just execute us, right?”

He grins.  “Oh yes I can.”  He pulls out a radio of his own.  “Hey, Brandon.  Get down here.  I found our rats.”

That feeling of concern I have just got a lot worse.  “You can’t just kill us, my friend.  Even your connections can’t cover that up.  Especially if we have a guy who can get the cops here in under a minute.”

“Wrong again, ‘friend,’” he answers.  “You guys are in way over your head.”

I shrug, then look back at Cindy and give her nod.  The moment I do, I burst into motion, b-lining for the mob pawn.

I was right about the dangerous and resourceful woman.  A shot rings out behind me, striking the wall next to the guard and forcing him to duck behind a corner.  He drops to a knee after getting to cover, then opens fire as I close in on him.

I feel three rounds hit me in the chest.  The guy is a good shot.  His grouping is less than an inch apart, even under a situation of duress.  But he clearly didn’t count on me being bullet proof.  I suppose nobody could.  And maybe a more accurate term would be “bullet resistant” since I feel the rounds tear into me, two of them going through me entirely.  That being the case, it’s no shock to me to see him quite surprised by the fact that, not only am I still up and running, but now I’m grabbing onto his forearm with enough strength to fracture his radius and ulna while I point the gun away from Cindy and I.  He grimaces, but bears the pain pretty well, still wondering how something like this could be happening.  He tries to pull free, but I hold him in place, grinning at him while I do so. 

“Just don’t,” I say.

That makes him angry.  He takes a swing at me with his left, which I duck underneath.  He tries following up with a backhand, which I catch with an upraised left hand.

“Wrong move,” I tell him as he struggles to free himself from my hold. 

I yank him toward me, launching my head forward as I do so.  The top of my skull impacts with his nose, and I feel the cartilage crumble at about the same time the bone breaks.  He staggers back, his eyes almost rolling up into his head.  He’s still got a little fight left in him though, and he squeezes off a few more rounds in protest.  I grab the gun and wrench it from his hand, then use it to club his temple. 

Now he’s down.  But things aren’t quiet by any means.

Three more shots sound off from the hall behind me, adding to the chaos as I feel two of them hit me in my right shoulder.  I spin with the momentum generated by their impact, then return fire.  My first shot strikes the gun of my assailant, hidden from Cindy’s view down the right hand passage.  His weapon goes flying as I pull the trigger again.  My second shot hits him in the foot, dropping him to the ground as he cries out in agony.

I’m glad I’ve had a little time to practice my martial skills over the years.  Including marksmanship.

Anyway, I can’t let the guy at the end of the hall cause any more problems, so I promptly run over and give him a good whack to the forehead too.  But I make sure to wrap his foot tightly with a handkerchief I liberate from his chest pocket.  I’m not so cruel as to make a guy lose a part of his leg on account of the fact I was bored and wanted to rob his bank. 

The fact that it’s a mob bank aside…

After I attend to the second unconscious guard and collect both of their weapons, I take a deep breath in preparation for what’s to come.  I start walking back to Cindy, who I find hasn’t followed me.  After I round the corner and reach the room where we initially entered, I find her crouched over some large droplets of my blood. 

Now they can trace my DNA.  Looks like I’m going to have to pay to meet with some of this organization’s big wigs.  Then I need to pay them to forget this little incident occurred. 

That’s annoying.

Cindy looks up at me, closely examining the three holes in my chest that are dripping blood.  “What the-”

“It’s complicated,” I start.  “I know.  But to make things simple, what do you say you and I bug out of here?”

She gives me what I believe to be the most skeptical expression to grace this earth.

I sigh.  “Look, clearly there’s a lot to me you don’t know about, but from what you do know, you can believe me when I say if we leave right now, I can triple what you would have made on this job.  Let me pay you to keep this a secret, OK?  It’s going to be hard enough to keep these guys quiet after forensics gets involved.”

She holds her gun on me, uncertainty prevalent throughout every facet of her being.

I can’t blame her, but I don’t like the direction the firearm is pointed.

“Really?  Still with the gun?” I ask.  “I haven’t even done anything to you.  Besides, you saw these guys put five in me.  You do know I just walked it off, right?”

She doesn’t answer.  She just stays in that stupefied state.

“Are we really going here?”

Again, she isn’t sure how to answer, but at least she’s not pulling the trigger.

“Your move, Cindy,” I tell her.  “But you can be set for life if you just have a little faith.  Let’s get Dave and get out of dodge.”

As I say it, I find it a little unfortunate that this is how the night went.  I was looking forward to spending more time with this woman who had genuinely fascinated me.  She was the closest thing I’d had to any type of romantic connection for a very long time.  Maybe even the closest thing I’d had to a lasting friend too.  Now I needed to pay her off to forget I even existed.

Just like everyone else who’s ever gotten close to me.

It may seem funny or maybe illogical to go about life like this, but making people forget about my presence on this earth is the only way I don’t end up in a government lab for the rest of my life.  I may be rich, but I don’t have enough money to take on a political system.  Especially one as irritable as the U.S of A’s.  Odds are, if things don’t work out with paying off the right people involved in this fiasco, I’ll be leaving the country for a long time as it is. 

  Cindy, pistol still held in my direction, visibly considers her options.  Her eyes dart back and forth as she makes up her mind. 

I really hope I don’t have to knock her out too.

Finally, she lowers the gun.  Then, to my utmost surprise, she grins, albeit sheepishly. 

“No,” she says.  “You can’t pay me in money.”

…

Um…OK…

“Let’s both just get out of here,” she says.  “You owe me that much.  And an explanation.”

Yeah…I didn’t see that coming.

“What?” I ask amidst my bewilderment. 

“You heard me.” 

I can’t believe I did.  “Why?”

“If you were going to hurt me you’d have done it already, am I right?  And it looks like I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop you.  I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m giving you a chance to come with me.  We can work out the details later.”

I give her a hesitant nod.  She’s smart girl.  I always knew as much, but it was nice of her to reiterate that now with our future together on the line.

“I want an answer from you, though…Why are you so interested in me?”

I raise my eyebrows, genuinely intrigued.  This woman was just full of surprises.  I’m not sure I should answer honestly right now however, so I deflect the question.

“You really roll the dice don’t you?”

She rolls her eyes.  “Look what I do for a living.”

That makes sense.

Suddenly, and I can’t believe I’m feeling it, a wave of relief washes over me.  Even excitement.  I guess I’m not losing my friend and lover after all.

That’s a guess, mind you.

“OK,” I agree.  “You sure?”

She shakes her head.  “No.  But that’s the point.”

Fair enough, Cindy. 

I grin, then radio for the Dave to meet us outside.  In the dark, he won’t be able to tell I’ve been hit.  I figure we’ll just tell him we got some account numbers instead of cash.  I can always make sums of money appear whenever I want, and Dave, after being paid, won’t ask questions.  Cindy and I then book it out of the bank after our rotund accomplice  informs us the security will stay down for another fifteen seconds.

As we walk out the disarmed back door, I look to Cindy, who lets her hair down and gives her head a good shake before looking at me with what I feel in my heart is the most promising and alluring gaze I’ve ever seen, tempered with a feint amount of caution, which I can’t blame her for.  We make our way to the silver Ford Dave said was our “getaway” vehicle, then hop in.  Dave asks a few predictable questions, like “what happened?” and “where’s the money?” then remains silent when he sees we’re doing the same.

Eventually, we make it back to Cindy’s Mustang after a short trip through the hazy, orange-lit streets of the city.  I hop out after promising Dave his share will be wired to him tomorrow.  Five-hundred k.  Could have had more if he was smart enough to ask about the accounts.  Too late now, and even with his skills he won’t be able to trace the money to my revenue stream.  I’ll also make sure to plant a virus in my encryptions, ready to infect the first system that attempts access from any CPU not registered with my financial network.  Nothing serious, but enough to let Dave know he needs to stay out, or far worse things will head his way.

He pulls away, leaving Cindy and I alone again.  I’m just as thrilled as before, but not in the same way.  This time, I’m excited because she chose to stay with me, even after what she’d seen.  She gave me a brief explanation before, but I want to know more about this woman.  Just as much as she wants to know more about me.

“We going for a ride?” I ask, meandering up to the passenger door.

She looks me up and down, making it unclear if she’s checking me out or sizing me up.  Eventually, she offers a shrug, then gives me a nod. 

“Why not?” she says.  “Get in.  I’ll take you to a hospital.”

I double check my wounds before climbing into the car.  I still have at least two bullets in me, but I’ll pull those out later when Cindy isn’t watching.  She’s already seen enough crazy stuff for one night.

“No need,” I tell her, indicating the three holes in my suit where the bullets tore into me.

She climbs into the car, then leans in for a closer look, noting the mended flesh where feint scars now reside.  She tilts her head sideways and bites the tip of her tongue, probably trying to figure out how something like this could ever be real.

“What are you?” she asks, her tone as earnest as I’ve ever heard her sound.

“Human,” I assure her.  “Just immortal.” 

She looks me in the eye.  “You can’t die?”

I shake my head.  “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then why are you here?” she persists.  “You didn’t answer me before.  Why are you even around me?”

I have to think on that one for a moment.  I don’t think deflecting the question will work this time.  How honest do I want to be?

I take a few seconds.

What the hell…

“I like you, Cindy.”

She narrows her eyes.  “That’s it?”

I sigh, wondering if she’ll understand what I’m about to say.  “Cindy, I’ve been alive for over fifteen-hundred years.  I can’t get close to anyone for more than a week because then people ask questions.  History, family, friends, what I do for a living.  Things I don’t want to answer in detail.  I have so many different identities it’s hard to keep track of which one I need to be, in whatever country I’m in, for whatever people I’m seeing.  And I can’t stay put because eventually someone will notice I’m not exactly…normal, by human standards.”

She keeps her eyes fixed on mine.  “…But?”

“But,” I continue.  “I didn’t care about that with you.  I thought you were worth taking a chance for.”

She looks out to the darkness surrounding the car.  “Were you ever going to tell me?”

I want to say yes, but even I don’t know the answer to that.

“I’ve wanted to,” I say, and that’s about as honest of an answer as I can give.  “Just wasn’t sure how.”

There’s a long silence between us as we sit in darkness.  I’m sure her mind is swimming, and mine is doing the same, but for far different reasons.  I’m wondering if this is the last time I’m going to see her.  I’m already thinking of contingencies in the event she wants to go sharing the experiences of this night with anyone.  I’m planning on where I’ll need to go to disappear for a while and what persona I’ll have to take on next.

All of this, just in case she acts in a way I wouldn’t fault her for.

She breaks the silence, turning the key and starting the car. 

“Buckle up,” she says. 

I do, even though there’s no need for it beyond avoiding a ticket from the cops.  But it’s still a good idea since I don’t need a paper trail of any kind, and Cindy wouldn’t appreciate it if she was cited for a passenger being non-compliant. 

“Where are we going?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath.  “You know…I’m not sure.”

“Can’t blame you for that,” I comment, turning my focus out to the streets of Chicago and the orange glow of the street lights. 

“On any other night, I’d think I lost it,” she mutters as she begins to drive, pulling into the strangely vacant streets.  “But I know what I saw.”  She begins to say something else, then catches herself.  She pauses for a few moments to think it over, then looks to me.  “I guess I trust you.”

I look back at her.  “Why?”

She turns her focus back to the road.  “Because you took a chance on me and got me out of there.”

Wow…I wasn’t expecting that.  And again, I can’t help but be fascinated by the woman sitting next to me.

“Thanks,” I tell her, truly meaning it.

“For what?”

“For believing me,” I answer.  “And for keeping me around.  I wouldn’t blame you if you ditched me.”

She grins.  “Yeah, well…You’re not so bad.”  She turns to me, her eyes hinting at the promise of mischief.  The good kind.  She keeps one eye on the road, but as her face is revealed amidst the darkness by the glowing dash displays and passing lights, she makes it clear she wants my attention.

She never had to do much to get it.  It’s about all I can do to keep her from pulling the car over right here so I can get her in the back seat.

“And besides,” she continues, turning her focus back to the road but still wearing that same, devious grin.  “You said something about tripling what I could have made tonight.”

Now it’s my turn to sport the devilish grin.  “I’m sure I can find some way to repay you.”  I reach over and place my hand on her thigh.  Her upper thigh.  Gently moving it up and down, covering more distance each time.

Her grin turns to a smile.  “I’ll want the money too.  But that’s a good start.”

I laugh.

I guess some things never change.