The Victim
“The time is zero-six-hundred, Jacob. Time to wake up.” A woman’s voice announced.
Jacob’s eyes opened. He pulled the thin blanket over his face. It’s so bright. He thought. Where the hell am I? Still at the police station?
He sat up, looked around. He was in a cell of some kind – one with metal walls and what he assumed a very cold floor (since it too was metal). The door wasn’t an ordinary door either. It looked more like the ones on bank vaults. Steel rods locked it in place. His hands felt heavy. When he looked down at them, he understood why. What appeared to be seamless, chain-less shackles adorned both wrists. Where the hell am I?
“The time is zero-six-zero-three, Jacob. Please stand by the inside of the door to receive your tray.”
“There’s been some kind of mistake. I need to talk to Detective Shields.”
An electric current charged up his arms. His wrists locked together. He screamed and slid off of the cot.
“Okay!” he shouted. “I’ll take the damned tray!” The current stopped. His hands once again free. He went to the cell door and waited.
“Where the hell am I ? Have I been abducted or something ?”
“Thank you, Jacob,” the voice said.
A small rectangular slot slid open at the center of the cell door and a plastic tray slid through. Jacob took the tray to his cot, put it down, then turned back to the door.
“I need to talk to Detective Shields,” he said “There’s been some mistake.” When the voice didn’t respond, he shouted, “I don’t belong here!” The slot closed.
***
He spun her around the dance floor. She wanted to go to a less ritzy place for their anniversary, but he had other plans. She looked absolutely radiant. The dress he’d picked for her matched her eyes perfect. A slow song came on. She tried to leave the floor, but he pulled her back – held her close. One hand in hers – one caressing the small of her back.
I’m going to ask her tonight. He told himself.
She didn’t know that he’d seen pregnancy test while taking out the trash. The slow song ended and a faster one came on.
“Okay” he said. “We can sit this one out.” He took her hand and led her back to their table.
He pulled her chair out for her. Then, after giving her a soft kiss on the cheek, he pulled his chair close to hers. He took both her hands in his own and stared into her perfect brown eyes.
“I know about the baby, Elise.” He said.
She didn’t immediately respond – just stared back at him. He sensed the wheels of her mind turning. She was trying to figure out how he knew. Then her eyes widened and she giggled.
“The garbage?” she asked.
“The garbage.” He replied.
***
Jacob slammed the spoon down on the tray. There was just no way he could eat. He couldn’t understand why anyone would have him locked up. Him! He was the victim here.
“Oh,” the voice returned. I see you’ve completed eating. Please approach the door and prepare to deposit your tray through the slot.”
Jacob moved to the door, carrying his mostly-full tray of the worst tasting shit on the shingles he’d ever had the displeasure of attempting to eat.
They’re certainly feeding me like a criminal. He thought.
The slot opened, he slid the tray through. Something on the other side secured the tray, then slowly pulled it. Jacob could hear whirring and clinking as the tray disappeared. He placed his ear against the cold surface of the door.
“Voice?”
“Yes, Jacob.”
“What am I doing here?”
“Waiting.”
“What am I waiting for?”
“The end.”
“Can I speak to Detective Shields?”
“No.”
Frustrated, he banged both fists on the door.
“I deserve to know where I am and why I’m here. Answer me, Bitch!”
“No,” the voice responded.
***
They were going to have a baby. The remainder of their time in the restaurant was spent going over baby names and imagining what their child was going to look like. After the plates were cleared away, Jacob paid the bill. They walked out holding hands – like they did those first few years they were together. He whispered all of the things he was going to do to her when they got home. She giggled and slapped him on the shoulder. When they reached their car. Jacob opened the passenger door for her.
“We’re having a baby,”
“Yes we are,” Jacob said.
They kissed, then she got into the passenger’s seat.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” Jacob said.
“You got to get me there first,” she responded – laughing.
But Before Jacob could close the door, a man spun him around, slammed him against the car, and pressed the barrel of a pistol under his chin.
“Your wallet, her purse.”
“Sure…sure” Jacob said, lowering his right hand to his back pocket. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just don’t hurt her.”
The gunman pressed the barrel harder.
“Great! A smart guy. Fucking Einstein. Just don’t try any superman bullshit and I won’t have to. Got it?”
Jacob retrieved his wallet and held it out. Just then, a police cruiser passed by on the street. The gunman lowered his pistol out of view. That’s when Jacob attacked him – grabbing the man’s wrist and taking him to the ground.
He hoped the gun would be knocked out of the man’s hand. But, when landed on top of the robber he saw it didn’t – so he tried to pry it loose. They were wresting on the blacktop when the shot rang out.
“Jacob?” She said.
Still trying to free the gun, Jacob shot a quick glance at his wife. Then was unable to look away. The robber, taking advantage of Jacob’s shocked state, rolled him off and ran – leaving Jacob to stare stupidly at his wife, her ghostly white face, her hands – which were pressed against a dark red rose – still blooming in the center of her chest.
***
“The time is twelve-hundred, Jacob. Please stand by the inside of the door and prepare to receive your tray.”
Had been sleeping? He must have been. There was nothing else to do but sleep –that and dream of his sweet Elise – and the baby that that would never come. Tears still rolled down his cheeks as he approached the cell door. The slot opened, a tray slid through. Jacob was hungrier than he’d been that morning, but one look at the soggy hamburger and even soggier fries actually turned his hunger to nausea. Dutifully, he took the tray back to his bunk and sat down.
“Voice?” He said.
“Yes, Jacob?”
“How long are you going to keep me here?”
“Until the end.”
“You said that before. How long until the end?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
“Am I being punished for something?”
“Yes.”
“For what? What did I do?”
“Murder.”
Jacob was stunned by the response.
“Murder? What the hell are you talking about? Who do you morons think I killed?”
“You murdered Elise Evans.”
“Bullshit!” Jacob yelled. He threw the tray of food at the wall. Half of the burger stuck – the rest of it and the lay scattered on the cell floor. “You idiots got it wrong! The bastard’s still out there! And you’re playing fucking games with me, he’s getting away killing my wife!”
“I’m not wrong.”
***
Pressure. Firm, steady pressure.
He pressed his hands against the wound. The 911 operator said to keep pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrive. But it seemed the harder he pressed, the more the blood oozed between his fingers. Elise was conscious, but barely. A couple of times, she tried to speak, to him, but only managed to cough up blood. A line of it trickled down from her mouth to her chin.
“Don’t try to talk, Baby. They’re coming. Just hold on.”
When the paramedics arrived at the scene, they found Jacob sitting on the ground, leaning against the side of his car – his wife’s lifeless body across his lap. He was running his hands through her long brown hair – muttering, “Just hold on, Baby… just hold on, Baby… just hold on…”
***
“I know why I’m here,” Jacob sobbed. “If I didn’t attack the mugger, she wouldn’t have died. My baby wouldn’t have…” he trailed off. Then, “It’s all my fault.”
“You’re paying for your crime,” the voice said. “That is why you are here, Jacob.”
“Don’t you people think that knowing that I’m the cause of her death is suffering enough?”
“No.”
“I’ve lost the only person in the world that I ever truly loved. What more could you possibly want from me?”
“Thirty thousand Life Sentences.”
“Thirty thousand what? This is fucking stupid! What the hell is wrong with you people? What are you going to do about the real killer? I pay for his crime – He runs free?”
“It’s your debt.”
“I don’t understand,” he said. Tears were trickling down his face again. Don’t try to talk, Baby. They’re coming. Just hold on. “I’ve lost everything. I have nothing left.”
“Yes you do,” the voice said. “Thirty thousand Life Sentences.”
“Is that a fucking joke?”
“A joke? No Jacob. It’s your debt.”
Pressure. Firm, steady pressure.
“Fuck you. I’ve paid my debt.”
***
When dinner time came, the voice made the usual announcement. Jacob obediently went to the door and waited. The slot opened, the tray slid in. Jacob could hear the whirring and clicking on the other side. It sounded close. Very close. Moving as fast as he could, he pushed the tray back out and thrust hands through the slot. The thing that pushed the tray through must have been pretty short because Jacob’s hands immediately found its thin steel neck. The electricity went up his arms. His wrists locked together – ensuring that his grip on the fucker wouldn’t be broken. Pressure. Firm, steady pressure. The voltage increased, then increased again. He was still banging the thing’s head against the outside cell door when his heart stopped.
***
A face in a surgical mask stared down at him.
“Make way!” A man in scrubs (but no mask) rushed over. “How long has he been conscious?”
“Not long,” the man in the mask said. “A little over a minute.”
The mask-less man (Jacob assumed he was a doctor) lifted Jacob’s head, disconnected something from the back of his neck. Jacob could feel something hard slide out of him. The sensation made him shudder.
“Hand me that red one,” the doctor said. The assistant fetched a bright red cable with an impossibly long needle at the end and brought it back. The doctor took it, lifted Jacob’s head again. Jacob shuddered a second time when the new cable was connected.
“Alright,” the doctor said. “We’re ready to re-boot. How long was he under this time?”
“Just over six hours.” The assistant said.
“Jesus,” the doctor said. “What’s the record?”
“Eight and a half.”
The doctor whistled. Then he leaned over and gave Jacob a couple light slaps on the cheek.
“Do you understand me, Mr. Bradley? Just nod your head if you do. I know you can’t speak with the breathing tube.”
Mr. Bradley? Who do they think I am?
“Just nod if you can understand me,” the doctor said.
Jacob nodded.
“Great! Let’s do this then.” The doctor cleared his throat, then continued. “Mr. Bradley, It is my duty to inform you that you have successfully completed one hundred and twenty-seven lives of your thirty thousand life sentence. I know you don’t remember, but you were found guilty of murder by a jury of your peers and sentenced under the provisions of the law. In accordance with the Eye for an Eye Act, you have been implanted with the memories of one of your victims. You must serve every life of your sentence as them. When your sentence is complete…”
“Yeah, right!” the assistant said, smiling. The doctor shot the assistant a cool glance. When the assistant’s smile faded completely, the doctor continued.
When your sentence is complete you will receive your memories back. Do you understand, Mr. Bradley?”
What the fuck are they talking about? Mr. Bradley? Who the fuck is that?
“I need to know that you understand, Mr. Bradley? Just nod if you do.”
Jacob shook his head violently.
What the hell are they talking about? My wife was murdered! Who the hell is Mr. Bradley?
“I know this is a lot to take in, Mr. Bradley,” the doctor said. “You can’t believe it, right?” “Well, luckily we’ve been through this a few times.” The doctor pulled out a compact mirror and held it in front of Jacob’s face. But it wasn’t Jacob’s face staring horrified back at himself. “There,” the doctor continued, “you believe me now?”
No…it can’t be. It just can’t be. That’s not me. That’s not me! Elise!
“Can I get a nod now Mr. Bradley? “No?” Then, to his assistant, “He understands enough to proceed. Input his acknowledgement in the log.”
“Yes doctor,” the assistant said.
The doctor pulled a small remote control devise from his scrubs pocket and held it up. “Ready for life number one hundred and thirty eight?” Jacob shook his head, fought against his bindings. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Bradley,” the doctor said. “Or…whenever.”
He pressed a switch on the control.
END
