Flashback (9 page)

“Well?” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” said Max, haltingly. “I’m ready.”

“Good, the car should be here any minute. I hope this is all worth it.”

Max turned and immediately recognized Jonathan Dexter as he walked into the room, having seen him in so many photographs during his research. Mr. Dexter was a tall, slim man, possessing an air of authority, his jet-black hair graying slightly at the temples.

“Now, Jonathan,” said Mrs. Dexter, as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, “you know how important these functions are. It was very good of Carl to go to all this trouble, you know.”

“Ha!” laughed Mr. Dexter. “Carl Maurier can afford to have a party like this every week. And he wouldn’t be hosting it if there wasn’t something in it for him, you know that.”

Max felt a strange sensation behind his eyes and must have appeared in some discomfort.

“David, are you feeling all right?” Mrs. Dexter asked, looking rather concerned.

“Perfect,” said Max, with a nod, although he wondered what he had got himself into.

“The car’s here,” Mr. Dexter announced.

Max looked out the window and saw a black limousine outside the front door.

“Okay,” said Mr. Dexter, “let’s get moving.”

Max followed David’s parents as they left the house.

“Good evening, Mr. Dexter, Mrs. Dexter,” said the driver, opening the rear door as they approached the car.

“Good evening, Sean,” Jonathan replied, as he stood aside to allow his wife to get into the back seat.

“Hi, David,” said Sean, with a smile.

Max was startled when images from what he had to assume were David’s past life experiences flashed across his mind. It appeared that Sean had worked as a driver for the Dexter family for several years and had often driven David to school when he was younger. Max got into the car, struggling to keep David’s memories in check.

As the car swept along, Max marveled at the large and luxurious houses of the Dexters’ upscale neighbourhood, a world away from the surroundings of his own home. The limousine left the residential area, driving by a restaurant whose neon sign had just been extinguished as it closed for the evening. Max was sitting between Mr. and Mrs. Dexter, who talked constantly to each other throughout the journey, but Max wasn’t really listening. He found that he was remembering countless episodes from David’s life—his childhood, family holidays, his friends at school, the occasion that he’d fallen off his bike and broke his ankle at the age of seven. As more of David’s memories flashed across his mind, Max desperately hoped that his own personality wouldn’t be completely swamped in the process.

When his thoughts finally cleared a little, the car was heading into the downtown area. Max noted that the city skyline looked different from what he was familiar with, since numerous office and apartment towers would be built in the coming years. When the car came to a stop outside a large hotel, Sean opened the rear door. Mr. Dexter got out first, followed by Max, then Mrs. Dexter

“Hurry up, David,” urged Mrs. Dexter. “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Max followed David’s parents through the revolving door as they crossed the marble floor of the hotel lobby, passing under glittering crystal chandeliers. He’d seen the exterior of this hotel a few times times before, but had never actually been inside. Max couldn’t help being impressed by the sheer luxury of it all as he accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Dexter towards the staircase. Inside the ballroom, Max again marveled at his opulent surroundings, gazing up at the elevated ceiling from which hung more ornate chandeliers. The dinner party was in full swing, filled with men dressed in tuxedos and women wearing elegant evening gowns. Max stepped to one side as a waiter hurried by him carrying a tray filled with sparkling champagne glasses.

“Come on, David,” said Mrs. Dexter, grabbing his wrist. “There are some people we need to say hello to.”

For the next half an hour, Max was introduced to at least thirty men and women in and around the main ballroom, all friends of Mrs. Dexter. It was obvious to Max that she was extremely proud of her son. Although in his own time Max knew that she’d been falsely committed to the hospital, supposedly driven mad with grief, he could see that her son’s death must have hit Mrs. Dexter incredibly hard.

At the far end of the ballroom, Max spotted Mr. Dexter talking to a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair, plus two other men in military uniforms. To Max’s relief, Mr. Dexter beckoned him over. After Max had made his apologies to Mrs. Dexter and the others, he went over to where Mr. Dexter was standing.

“General Travis, Colonel Marshall,” Mr. Dexter said, when Max arrived, “you remember my son?”

“Of course,” said the General, extending his hand. “How are you, David?”

“Good, thank you,” said Max

He shook Travis’ hand, while the Colonel simply smiled in greeting.

“And David, do you remember Dr. Kovac?” Mr. Dexter asked. “He’s been to our house for dinner a few times, when you were younger, but perhaps you’ve forgotten.”

“Yes, it’s been a while,” said Kovac, offering his hand.

Max immediately recognized Aleksandar Kovac from the photographs he’d retrieved from Carrington’s office and mailbox. Yet, the instant Max’s fingers brushed against Kovac’s palm, Max realized that he actually knew the doctor very well indeed. Suddenly, images of a scientific facility, complete with men and women in white lab coats, flooded into his mind. Max heard the screams of victims and saw Kovac standing over a young woman with green hair who was lying on a table. Abruptly, Max pulled his hand away.

“David?” said Mr. Dexter. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes,” stammered Max. “I was, er, just thinking of the last time I saw you, Dr. Kovac. Yes, that’s it. You’re right. It has been a while. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to get some fresh air.”

Finding it difficult to breathe, Max quickly left the ballroom. He hurried back down the staircase and across the lobby to the front entrance. He stood on the hotel’s front steps, greedily gulping in the night air. The memories Max had experienced when he touched Kovac’s hand had been frighteningly vivid. As he watched the downtown traffic, his breathing gradually returned to normal.

“What are you doing out here?” said a voice behind him.

Startled, Max turned around. It was Mrs. Dexter.

“Oh,” Max answered, “I, er, just needed some fresh air.”

“Well, don’t stay out here too long,” said Mrs. Dexter, turning to go back inside. “You look a little pale.”

“Okay,” said Max, with a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

As he watched David’s mother stroll back across the lobby, a cool breeze made Max shudder. He decided to take Mrs. Dexter’s advice and return to the party. However, Max really didn’t want to meet any more of her friends. He avoided the ballroom and

made his way along a corridor that was mercifully quiet. When he passed a room to which the door was slightly ajar, he heard Mr. Dexter’s voice. Through the crack in the door, Max could see David’s father, the two military officers, and Aleksandar Kovac engaged in a heated discussion.

“What do you mean cancel the project?” Kovac fumed.

“I’m sorry, Aleksandar,” said Mr. Dexter, “but we told you what would happen if these abductions continued. We could only cover it up for so long and now the police are taking an interest again. For God’s sake, we’re still dealing with the fallout from people who went missing years ago, especially the children.”

“You never cared much before,” Kovac sneered, turning to Colonel Marshall. “Didn’t you say that the end justified the means, Colonel? What’s the matter? Are your bosses in Washington giving you some heat?”

“The project has simply run its course,” said Colonel Marshall, with a disarming smile. “You know how these things are.”

“Doctor Kovac,” added General Travis, “your research and subsequent work has all been invaluable, but we have all we need.”

“You can’t do this!” Kovac protested. “I’m so close to a major breakthrough! What about that girl we grabbed at the university last week?”

“Aleksandar,” said Mr. Dexter, “I’m sorry. These disappearances have drawn far too much attention. We can’t afford for this to be exposed. Once you’ve finished with the subjects you have at the moment, we have to close everything down at the end of the month. All traces at the old navy warehouse will be erased. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Isn’t there, Mr. Dexter?” said Kovac, slowly. “We’ll see about that.”

Max stepped back as Kovac headed for the door and flung it open, storming out of the room. He immediately noticed Max in the hallway and fixed him with an icy stare.

“Ah, David, isn’t it?” he said, barely concealing a snarl. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself tonight, although it seems the party’s over.”

Max watched Kovac hurry down the staircase. He had the peculiar sensation that he’d witnessed this very scene before and guessed that this was perhaps what David must have experienced. The intermittent flashes of memories, combined with the struggle to keep his own thoughts in check, were giving Max a headache. He decided to find Mrs. Dexter and ask if they could leave the party early.

Max made his way through the crowd in the ballroom. He finally spotted David’s mother and politely interrupted her as she stood chatting with a couple Max had met earlier that evening.

“Is it okay if we go now?” Max asked her. “I’m really not feeling very well.”

“Really?” said Mrs. Dexter, making her excuses to her friends. “You poor thing. Not a problem, I’ll just let your dad know. Why don’t you go and wait outside and get some air? I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

As he stood outside the hotel entrance, Max thought to himself how David’s perfect life would soon all come crashing down. Or would it? Max couldn’t help but second-guess himself, wondering exactly how his own presence here in the past within David’s body and mind would affect the course of events. Surely with his knowledge of what was to come, Max could change things for the better? David could be saved, couldn’t he? Perhaps that was why Max had been allowed to come back in time?

“There you are,” Mrs. Dexter said, as she waved in the direction of the limousine parked a little farther down the street.

The car slowly drove to where Max and Mrs. Dexter were standing. Sean got out to open the rear door.

“Is Mr. Dexter not joining us?” he asked.

“No, Sean,” replied Mrs. Dexter, “he’s coming along later. David’s not feeling too well, so we thought we’d get an early night.”

“Sorry to hear that, David,” Sean smiled, as Mrs. Dexter climbed into the back seat. “I hope you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Thanks,” said Max.

Once Max was in the car, Sean closed the door. The limousine pulled away from the sidewalk and slowly eased into the traffic.

“So is it a headache?” Mrs. Dexter asked.

“What?” said Max.

“Is it a headache?” she repeated. “You said you weren’t feeling well. I just wondered what it was.”

“Oh, yeah,” Max replied, with a weak smile. “A bit of a headache.”

He faked a frown, attempting to appear in as much pain as possible.

Mrs. Dexter seemed to get the message, smiling back at him and briefly squeezing his hand. The rest of the journey was undertaken in silence. As soon as they got home, Max told Mrs. Dexter that he simply wanted to get an early night. She looked a little concerned, but nevertheless satisfied that there was nothing seriously wrong.

Max went straight upstairs, instinctively knowing where David’s bedroom was located. When he flicked on the light, Max immediately noticed how tidy the room was in comparison to his own. Yet he saw so many things from David’s life that felt familiar—the posters of contemporary bands and sports personalities adorning the walls and the baseball glove on top of the bureau. Five shelves filled with books that Max instantly had recollections of reading. On another shelf by the window was a model ship. Max knew that David had built it when he was nine years old, while also acknowledging that he would never have had the patience to construct it himself. The desk was conspicuously lacking the disorganized pile of papers and folders Max was used to seeing in his room. On the edge of the desk, a reading lamp stood beside a framed picture of David with his grandparents.

There was no small TV and no video game cases lying around either. Max noticed the absence of a computer. He knew that home computers simply weren’t that common yet in this time period. Similarly, there was no evidence of a cell phone, an essential item for just about everyone in Max’s own time. Although there was no cellphone or similar digital music device, Max picked up the CD player from David’s desk. This was something Max was familiar with, since his dad still had one, never used these days, in the glove compartment of his truck. There was also a set of keys on the desk, along with a wallet, containing around sixty dollars in cash, plus a collection of plastic, including membership cards, and two bankcards.

Max’s headache intensified as he once again fought to keep in check the images filling his mind. He lay on the bed, growing increasingly concerned if he would continue to remember his real life. Or perhaps eventually he’d be unable to distinguish one existence from the other? Maybe, Max pondered, it was only a matter of time before he lost all recollection of the future and actually became David Dexter? As he thought of the picture beside the reading lamp, Max was keenly aware that grandparents had never been a part of his own life. The contrast between David’s family and his own were also painfully obvious to him. David had two loving parents who were successful, rich and had a very comfortable lifestyle. It was certainly very tempting for Max to simply forget his less than perfect life in the future and somehow become David Dexter.