1
It was always complicated with Kyle. He was the kind of friend that you wanted to spend time with at the beginning of a Friday night but by Saturday morning, things had just gone off the rails at some point – usually due to a lost temper or a stupid prank. After school we lost touch as everyone does. To be honest I hadn’t even thought of him for years. When he called, it took me a second to remember who the hell he was.
“Hey man, I know it’s late and all but I sort of need a favor,” his vaguely familiar voice said. He was trying to keep his voice down for whatever reason. My guard was up.
“Uh, what’s going on Kyle?”
“I just need a ride out of here man. Nothing crazy, just need a lift. I know it’s late and all but I could really use your help and I don’t know anyone out here.”
“Well where are you? What the hell’s going on?”
“I’m in San Francisco. Like I said, it’s nothing hairy. I’ll fill you in when you get here – promise.”
Just like old times, Kyle was already past the question of my involvement. He was right of course but that didn’t make it any less annoying. I took down his address, got into the car and programmed my GPS.
I focused on the task at hand getting lost in the details of the trip. Even so, my mind was filled with annoying questions. What kind of trouble was he into? Will this be dangerous? How the hell did he even get my number? I pushed all of the uncomfortable doubt from my thoughts and refocused on the task at hand. Kyle needed me and I was going to help him out. I was intently lost in the adventure of saving an old friend.
2
here’s always traffic on the 101 but at this time of night it was easy going. My car’s radio, which was permanently tuned to sports talk, was in the middle of a commercial block featuring the local jewelry store and an auto parts chain. I switched the noise off and the thoughts of what was to come filled the void. I could only speculate as to what happened to Kyle after graduation. None of the scenarios I came up with were likely but they all involved some kind of get rich scheme and hard luck. I knew I would have to defend myself against his infectious enthusiasm for chaos.
I had chosen a safer, much more conservative path after school. No one wants to get into the insurance field – ok there are those few oddballs that love the industry but it is safe to say that my office is full of liberal arts majors that spend their days wondering if architecture or computer science would have been a better way to go. Negative and tedious as it is, the money was good – it had to be. The payoff was an existence that most of the world envied. I wasn’t pulling in Silicon Valley dollars but I was doing well – safe.
My GPS robotically interrupted my train of thought and alerted me that the exit was approaching, comically mispronouncing the street’s name. I turned down the curved off ramp and waited at the stop light. The streets were deserted for the most part. The lights over the gas station pumps gave a flicker every second or so almost in synch with the clicking of my turn signal. Dark, business storefronts offered specials in English and what was most likely Mandarin or Cantonese.
This part of the city was cram-packed with block long rows of homes. The façade of these structures looked severe and steep – at that same time, they flowed up the rolling hills like sections of a mass transit train. These were not the celebrated Victorians seen in the tourism ads. Here the reality of housing costs in the city produced a much more depressing visage. Ornate trim and colorful accents gave way to wrought iron security doors and patchwork siding.
I had arrived. I parked on the street, turning my wheels into the curb and set my parking break. I took a moment and told myself that first and foremost, I was going to protect myself. After that, I would do what I could for Kyle. I laughed at myself thinking I had let my imagination run wild on the way up here. This could wind up being nothing more than a simple drive with an old friend. He had given me the address but told me to knock on the small side door off the garage. I knocked and waited for the reply.
3
I thought I heard something behind the door or was it my imagination? Then a loud clunk confirmed that someone had at least heard my knock. A muffled voice grew louder and finally I saw something pass between the peephole and the light inside. The door flung open and a seriously pissed off woman looked me up and down. “Who the hell are you?” she spat.
“Jeez I’m sorry if I got the wrong place but I am looking for Kyle?”
Her seething anger made it hard to pay attention to anything else. The only thing I did notice was that her black hair had been hastily put up in a spikey bun. It added a furious little starburst behind her dagger producing glare.
“I’m an old friend,” I offered, trying to justify my existence on her doorstep in the middle of the night. She seemed to soften but only a bit. Her hot eyes squinted slightly as if asking questions of their own. Even so, she remained firmly within the frame of the doorway as if to bar my entry. It was completely unnecessary as the thought of pushing past her was never an option.
“A little late at night to just drop by on an old friend,” she complained. She made sure to add a little touch of interrogative sarcasm to the words “old” and “friend.”
I was becoming irritated myself. “He gave me this address and asked me to come by. Is he here?”
Just then Kyle appeared behind her. He was lacing a belt through his pants and trying to cram his foot into a sneaker at the same time.
“Dude – you made it! Thanks for coming! She wasn’t giving you any shit was she?”
“Hey! You know you can go to hell Kyle – I don’t have my friends coming by in the middle of the night.” Her mood did not improve but at least I was no longer the center of her attention.
“Don’t mind Stella, Jay. She’s a pain in the ass. Let’s go.”
Kyle had finished putting himself together. He had on an old pair of camouflage cargo pants and a faded concert t-shirt. Between the eroded logo and what looked like dirt, I couldn’t make out the name of the band. Over that, he wore a slightly too small denim jacket. The denim was so light that it had to have been a refugee from 1987. His face showed the stubble of at least a week’s growth and on his head was a bright red, cheap bandana. Overall he looked like some kind of post apocalyptic pirate.
He pushed past Stella and assured her that everything was ok and that he would be back in just a bit. At once I saw the old friend I knew – his easy style with people and his ability to convince anyone of anything. She relented like giving a naughty boy permission to go out and play with his friends. We walked to my car making benign small talk as the heat from my confrontation with Stella began to dissipate. We both got into the car and I locked the doors.
“All right Kyle,” I couldn’t wait any longer, “what is this all about?”
His easy comfortable tone was suddenly replaced with a deadly seriousness.
“Not here dude. Drive.”
4
I instinctively drove towards the highway.
“Where are we going Kyle?”
“It doesn’t matter just drive.”
“Was that your girlfriend?”
“That is a complicated question. It’s good to see you again my man. I really appreciate the lift. Don’t worry I will explain everything. First thing though, do you have an aux port?”
“A what?”
“You know, so I can plug in my iPod.”
Maybe I was overreacting but I couldn’t believe he was worried about music. I opened my middle console and showed him the port. He produced a white cord and an Ipod that had seen better days.
“You’ve gotta hear this. It will change your world.”
“Sure, sure Kyle…but seriously..”
“Hold on,” he interrupted.
My car was filled with what sounded like an old jazz recording. There was a piano, a bass, sax and drums. Nothing I had heard before but I was hardly an aficionado. More importantly, I didn’t give a damn about the music – I wanted answers.
“Sorry,” he started, “I need something to cover our conversation. To answer your question, she is technically my roommate. I found her sleeping under my patio about a month ago and took her in. I am not much for taking in strays but she is a little more entertaining than a cat.”
“So you guys aren’t…”
“Ha – no dude. She has the insane ex that was hanging around for a while. Then she was consumed with getting back on her feet and looking for a job. She helped me out with a little problem I was having too. It’s been a little hectic lately. I haven’t had time to get involved.”
“I see. She was a little protective there.”
“Oh yeah, she’s a little off center.”
The jazz quartet moved through an unimpressive sax solo and finished their first song. Polite applause could be heard between cuts.
“You don’t like her do you?” he asked. He was amused with himself again.
“Um, no Kyle, listen I need to know what is going on and why you called me out here in the middle of the night.”
“I owe you that for sure, sorry. It all kind of started when I found Stella,” he explained. He talked about finding her again and went into the specifics of that night. At one point he became emotional. I never remembered seeing him this upset before. And then, his iPod began to skip.
A portion of the latest cut began to repeat over and over again. Pretty annoying. I looked at Kyle. His head was hung down and he was trying to collect himself. I reached for the iPod and Kyle blocked my hand with an upraised finger. I resigned myself to continue to listen to this loop for another few revolutions. The odd rhythm of the clip played over and over again. I wanted to be patient but the sound was starting to grind my nerves. Every time I looked at Kyle he silently motioned for me to wait. Over and over the cut played.
“Dammit Kyle!” I finally objected.
“Sorry dude.”
He reached over and pushed pause on the device and the car was quite.
“I have cancer Kyle.”
“Oh man I had no idea Kyle, I’m sorry.”
“Well, I guess I should say that I had cancer.”
5
My head was spinning. In the span of a few hours my emotional state had ping ponged between suspicion, annoyance and now concern. I righted my mental ship and in a moment of clarity I knew I needed to take control of the conversation. We had been on the road for a little over a half hour and I still had no idea what this was all about.
“OK, so hold on Kyle,” I said like a concerned parent. “You had terminal cancer and what are you now…in remission?”
“No, I just don’t have cancer anymore.” Kyle was either responding to my new found directness or just purposefully indulging me by allowing our conversation to turn into an interview.
“What kind of cancer did you have…where was it?”
“I had pancreatic cancer, which meant by the time I knew I had it, it was way too late to do anything about it. Crap had spread all over. It was rotten dude…painful.”
“And, now?”
“Free and clear. It’s all gone.”
“You just said it was too late to do anything about it,” I was starting to doubt him.
“That’s right.” He smiled. I had had enough.
“Listen man, I want to help you. But I need to know what this is all about right now. You call me up in the middle of the night, I run over here, you act like you are in some kind of danger…”
“I stole the cure for cancer Jay,” he interrupted.
6
The car went silent. The sounds of my tires hitting the repetitive textures in the highway’s surface reasserted themselves and became the absurd soundtrack to an even more ridiculous conversation.
“Things didn’t exactly go as planned for me after college Jay,” he continued. “I had a few good opportunities flame out. I got involved with a few jerks that screwed me over. It was all bullshit really. I was just looking for the next big thing when I got sick. What was I going to do? I had no insurance. The guy at the clinic said that without medical treatment I wouldn’t last long. Even with treatment it was probably going to be a slim chance of survival. After blowing what little money I had left on what I thought would be one last big party, I fell into a deep depression. Totally not me dude – you know. I was out of options, money and hope.”
“I saw an ad on a utility pole flyer for a cancer study over at Stanford. They needed patients and I figured – what the heck. They had me come in and do all kinds of tests to make sure what I already knew. They had me stay there for weeks. Then the treatments started. I thought they were full of it at first but you know what? Those freakin’ eggheads did it. They cured me Jay.”
My faith in his trustworthiness was weak at best. I wanted to stay safe inside my skepticism. It had been a long time since I had been sucked up into one of his little schemes but there was something different about this. I hadn’t seen him in so long; I marked it up to Kyle upping his game somehow.
“Look Kyle, if you need money or a place to stay I think I can help you out a little. I don’t know what you are really into but I will do what I can okay?”
Kyle smiled and looked into his lap. “That’s what I always loved about you man. That’s why I called you. That and the fact that you are the only person I even know out here. You have no reason to believe me and you still put out your hand to help Jay. That’s why you are here. That’s why I need you.”
He reached into the pocket of his denim jacket and produced a flash drive. It was the typical looking drive wrapped in grey plastic with a tiny rectangular blue square which most likely lit up when stuck into your computer. He pressed the thing into my hand.
“I need you to take this Jay. Take this and keep it safe. This is going to change everything.”
7
I had been aimlessly driving for too long now and we were well past my exit. Although I was kind of heading towards home, I also wasn’t ready to bring this chaos that far into my life just yet. We had made it out of the city enough where the off ramp signs began to advertise those mega truck stops with three different fast food places and “clean” bathrooms. I chose one and pulled off. Kyle made no objections to stopping but was keenly interested in our surroundings.
“This looks good,” he approved. “Good as any I suppose.”
We got out of the car and I locked the doors with my key fob. My car dutifully responded with its usual, “bloop bloop.” I had put the flash drive into my right front pocket so I tucked my car keys into my left. I patted the drive through my jeans to make sure it was still there. Of course I knew it was still there. It was all I could think about.
We chose the generic, diner type place where you could actually sit down and look at a menu. Although the truck stop seemed relatively busy, the diner was deserted. We sat in a teal colored, pleather booth. The completely uninterested waiter finally decided to find out why we were interrupting the mindless text exchange he was having with his ex. We ordered two coffees.
“Why should I believe any of this Kyle?” I started up again.
“Because you have the proof Jay.”
“This thing in my pocket? This could be anything. How in the hell is this the cure for cancer?”
Kyle motioned for me to keep my voice down. He was still afraid for some reason. I let myself play in the fantasy of his story for a moment. He seemed legitimately afraid. If this thing contained some chemical formula that would cure cancer, what in the hell would I do with it and why would Kyle give it to me? If this is all true then had had put me in the middle of his bullshit once again.
“The drive contains a file and that is the cure.” Kyle continued in a hushed tone.
“Say I believe you Kyle. Isn’t the cure for cancer a good thing? Why steal it? This isn’t the kind of thing you sell at a pawn shop.”
“I deserve that I suppose,” he responded. “I was always looking for the quick fix. This is something bigger though Jay. I couldn’t let them do it. This is too big for anyone to cash in on.”
“You mean Stanford?” I asked.
“You are thinking too small Jay. Think about the economics of a cure for cancer. Think about who funded this study in the first place. Who stands to loose when the cure is discovered? When you start thinking about it, the power involved in this is scary.”
“Is that why you are scared? Is that why you got me involved in this?”
“I needed someone that would understand what I am trying to do here. I needed someone that gets it. Don’t you see Jay? This cure belongs to the world. We have to make sure it reaches them.”
8
“Have you ever heard of Jonas Salk?” he asked sounding like an inquisitive professor.
“Um, I think so…polio cure?”
“Exactly! Now how many people do you know with polio?”
I thought for a second. I knew where he was going with this but I wanted to lighten the mood. “F.D.R.?”
“Precisely wise ass. Polio has virtually been eradicated. No one we know has had it and you want to know why?”
“Because Salk found a cure?”
“Yes but what’s more important is what he did with the cure.”
Kyle grew excited as he connected the dots. He sincerely wanted me along on his journey. His emotion was palpable and my disbelief started to fade.
“Are you trying to tell me that no one made any money off of Salk’s vaccine?” I asked.
“Of course not but Salk wasn’t driven by profit. When they asked him who owned the patent on the vaccine, he said you couldn’t patent the sun. Don’t you see? This is like the oxygen we breathe or gravity that holds us to the earth.” He was flying.
“Ok, so it’s that big. Why would anyone try to stop it? Wouldn’t they lose out on their profits now?” I asked, trying to get him back closer to the ground.
“How many times do you think that has happened since the polio vaccine? When was the last time we legitimately cured a major disease? I am not talking about eliminating symptoms or extending lifespans beyond what we thought was possible but an almost 100% elimination of the cause of the disease itself?”
I thought hard. I wanted to find something but nothing really came to mind. I shrugged.
“Think man, Salk’s vaccine was in the 50’s. Consider how much more powerful these companies are today? Let’s not even think about what the government would want to do with a cure like this…and that’s just our government.”
Kyle looked me dead set in the eyes. In all the years I had spent with him in college I had never known him to be this dead set on something. There was always a smirk or angle or something that revealed the mischievous man behind the curtain. He loved showing his ass while working his con. Either there was no angle or Kyle simply wasn’t willing to show me yet.
“So you and I are going to save the world Kyle…how nice.” I felt myself slipping towards full belief in Kyle’s story and sarcasm had long been one of my go to defensive mechanisms. “Hold that thought dude…I’ll be right back.” I got up to go to the bathroom. As I left the table out of the corner of my eye I caught Kyle’s expression. He looked disappointed.
I walked past the seat yourself sign and looked around for the restroom like a tourist. I found my objective. The bathroom was thick with a combination of Johnny cake and the result of poor marksmanship. If Kyle was telling the truth this is going to be a giant mess. I started rolling exit scenarios through my head. How could he and I possibly get a cure for cancer to the people of the world? I knew a few professors back in school but what the heck could they do with it? I washed my hands and dried my hands on the sandpaper like rectangles of paper towels.
As I walked back to the table, I noticed that Kyle’s jacket was on the floor. I looked up and saw my friend slumped over in the booth against the glass window pane. A small, dark red circle was in the middle of his forehead. I reached to touch him. “Kyle…” He fell over towards me revealing a large splatter of blood and bits of matter across the top of the booth. Kyle was dead!
9
“Where is the drive Mr. Nichols?”
I spun around and a large dark figure was suddenly behind me. After registering his question my mind immediately flew to the bit of technology in my jeans pocket. It was all I could do restrain my eyes and fingers from moving towards his prize.
“You killed my friend!” I sputtered. It was both a question and a statement since by the time the words left my lips, my brain had caught up to my initial reaction to seeing my friend with a hole in his head.
He continued in a hushed but forceful tone, “It would be in your best interest to keep your voice down. You can see I am not shy about public places but we still may be able to resolve this without your death Mr. Nichols. That path requires your cooperation I am afraid.”
His entire form was solid and he stood a good foot taller than me. He wore non-descript black clothing that had enough variant details to dissuade anyone from thinking that he was wearing a military uniform. His hair was close-cropped and dark with the occasional spike here and there. He had a face you might forget the next time you saw it but was impossible to ignore under the circumstances.
“Look,” I managed in a veneer of quite calm, “I don’t have any drive. My friend called me up and asked for a lift. That’s all I know. I don’t want any trouble. I have nothing to do with this. I just want to leave.” My shock was making me ramble.
I saw him process my lie. His face contorted and relaxed while he must have been replaying my words in his head. Did he believe me or was he weighing the different methods of murder available to him.
“Take off your clothes – now!” he ordered.
It hit me out of left field. I looked back at him with a more natural and fearless reaction before remembering that this may be the end of me. I looked around the restaurant. It was more deserted than before. Then it clicked. If he had my clothes he had the cure. If he killed me he had the cure. Lesser of two evil for him was the command to disrobe. Thinking I would think of some way out of this, I stalled for time.
I undid the second button on my polo shirt and tugged the collar over my head. He looked pleased. Even in this no win situation, I couldn’t keep my smartass thoughts out of my head. This guy was enjoying this way too much. I kicked off my left shoe and my mind slammed back into panic mode. I wasn’t coming up with anything brilliant.
Hitting this guy was out of the question. I slipped off my right shoe. Running might work but I can’t outrun a bullet. I pulled off my socks. I looked around again and saw no one. Would yelling even help? As I made a small pile on the floor in front of me he pulled my clothes towards him with his foot. Could I destroy the drive? What the hell good would that do? I pulled my belt through the loops of my jeans and my hand stopped, ready to undo my pants. I was out of time.
Then, I heard a tiny glass crack behind me. I turned and looked at the window near the booth with my motionless friend. I saw nothing but the inky blackness beyond punctuated with the occasional fluorescent green glow of the truck stop lights. I heard a loud thud behind me. I spun around and saw the big man on the floor. He had a wound that matched Kyle’s. I hit the floor and jammed myself under the booth table.
I was in full panic mode. Maybe this guy didn’t kill Kyle. Who the hell shot this guy? I just needed to get the hell out of there. At that moment, I heard a gurgle come from above me. Kyle was somehow still alive.
10
The restaurant was silent except for the electronic hum of some appliances in the kitchen. Kyle had slumped over onto the teal clad booth bench. His face was inches from mine.
“Kyle…” I whispered.
He looked horrible. The small red dot on his forehead had grown into twin rivers of blood, that had traced down his face. The booth was smeared with what remained of the back of his head. He couldn’t have much life left in him. I reached up and felt his neck for a pulse. My heart was pounding so hard it was almost impossible to tell if I felt Kyle’s weak heartbeat or if I was projecting my own.
He gurgled again and spit blood from his lips like a child tasting his first bite of stewed spinach. However possible, Kyle still had something left in him. Even if the chance was slim, he needed medical attention now. I needed to get out of here. We needed to get to the car.
I crawled to the edge of the table and listened. Nothing. I looked around at the deserted dining area. I looked back at the window and finally saw the small hole made by the assassin’s bullet. It was time to run.
I stood up and pulled Kyle out of the booth. I tried to get him on his feet but he was lifeless and heavy. I wrestled with holding him upright for a moment and then let him slump against me with my hands below his shoulders. I looked for my exit and found an emergency door in the corner of the dining room. I dragged Kyle through it and out into the night.
With more difficulty I got Kyle into the passenger seat of my car and strapped him in with the seat belt. My chest, arms and hands had Kyle’s blood on them. I thought about the pile of my discarded clothes on the restaurant floor. There was no way I could risk going back for them and dragging Kyle took all my effort. I shut the car door and took a quick look around the parking lot as I ran around to the driver’s side door.
I jammed the car into gear and looked at the parking lot again. The area where I imagined the shooter was located was behind the building in a dried out grassy field. I thought I could see the outline of a vehicle but it could just as well have been a dumpster for all I could see. The front of the truck stop actually seemed like business as usual. Cars and trucks were moving in and out of the parking lot like nothing had happened.
I thought for a moment about stopping and asking for help but Kyle needed to get to a hospital and explaining things to a stranger would take time. I also still had a killer out there. We had to get away.
I pulled out of the parking lot and got back on the highway.
11
Where was the nearest hospital? Fortunately I had kept my phone in the pocket opposite Kyle’s flash drive. I thumbed through the apps and looked up the nearest hospital. We were about 15 minutes out. Gradually, my heart rate started to slow. I exhaled loudly. As my fear recessed, my brain suddenly had the capacity for reason. The problem was, all I had were more questions. I realized that the thick guy in black knew my name. He knew I had the flash drive. He knew where we were. We must have been followed since leaving Kyle’s place.
I looked in my rear view mirror. Was someone following us now? There were a few pairs of headlights behind us but nothing that looked sinister. If someone was following us now there was very little I could do about it. I looked over at my friend. He had been silent and motionless since we left but I noticed that he had somehow picked up his iPod. I remembered how choked up Kyle had been while playing his jazz music before we made it to that damn truck stop.
“A little music to make you feel better buddy? Sure.”
I nudged the device out of his bloody hand and pressed the bottom of the selector wheel. The car was again filled with the sound of live jazz music. But it was still on the skip. Something was wrong with this cut. I looked at the iPod and tried to advance the cut. Managing this was made more difficult due to that fact that I still had to watch the road and Kyle blood made the controls even harder to use than usual. The last thing we needed now was this annoying bit of music over and over again.
Kyle reached up and grabbed my hand. “Let it play Jay.”
A short yell jumped out of my throat. Startled, I looked at Jay and he was sitting up and staring right at me. “Don’t be scared man. Just give me a minute here and let this go to work.”
The skipping section of jazz music played on and Kyle grew stronger by the second. He started wiping the blood from his face and eyes. Next he felt the back of his head. He was pressing and pushing like molding a clay sculpture. He returned his attention to his face. “Do you have any napkins in here?” he asked in a matter of fact tone? I silently opened the glove box. The skip continued to repeat.
It was hard to concentrate on the road with the ridiculous events transpiring in my passenger seat. Kyle wiped his forehead clean and that’s when I saw that the bullet wound was completely gone. Kyle looked at me with a sly look I remembered all too well.
I found my voice. “Are you kidding me you dick?!? This was all an act? Are you playing with me? I thought you were dead. You scared the crap outta me back there. What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh I was shot alright,” he explained. “…and I was pretty near dead as you can be. That jerk wasn’t taking any chances. I guess they really don’t care about me anymore. Fortunately you got me back to the car. You really saved my life back there.”
“Wait you were shot? This wasn’t some practical joke?”
“No joke man. When have you ever known me to be that cruel? You wound me dude.”
His sense of humor was in extremely poor taste. This had either been a seriously cruel joke at my expense or he somehow had recovered from a bullet wound to the head. I looked at him again. Other than the blood he missed around his ear lobe, you wouldn’t know he had been shot at all.
“I guess we can turn this off now, huh” he said and he picked up the iPod again. The car went silent. “You see Jay, I was exactly 100% truthful with you before. I didn’t just steal the cure for cancer. I stole the cure for everything.”
It was always complicated with Kyle. He was the kind of friend that you wanted to spend time with at the beginning of a Friday night but by Saturday morning, things had just gone off the rails at some point – usually due to a lost temper or a stupid prank. After school we lost touch as everyone does. To be honest I hadn’t even thought of him for years. When he called, it took me a second to remember who the hell he was.
“Hey man, I know it’s late and all but I sort of need a favor,” his vaguely familiar voice said. He was trying to keep his voice down for whatever reason. My guard was up.
“Uh, what’s going on Kyle?”
“I just need a ride out of here man. Nothing crazy, just need a lift. I know it’s late and all but I could really use your help and I don’t know anyone out here.”
“Well where are you? What the hell’s going on?”
“I’m in San Francisco. Like I said, it’s nothing hairy. I’ll fill you in when you get here – promise.”
Just like old times, Kyle was already past the question of my involvement. He was right of course but that didn’t make it any less annoying. I took down his address, got into the car and programmed my GPS.
I focused on the task at hand getting lost in the details of the trip. Even so, my mind was filled with annoying questions. What kind of trouble was he into? Will this be dangerous? How the hell did he even get my number? I pushed all of the uncomfortable doubt from my thoughts and refocused on the task at hand. Kyle needed me and I was going to help him out. I was intently lost in the adventure of saving an old friend.
2
here’s always traffic on the 101 but at this time of night it was easy going. My car’s radio, which was permanently tuned to sports talk, was in the middle of a commercial block featuring the local jewelry store and an auto parts chain. I switched the noise off and the thoughts of what was to come filled the void. I could only speculate as to what happened to Kyle after graduation. None of the scenarios I came up with were likely but they all involved some kind of get rich scheme and hard luck. I knew I would have to defend myself against his infectious enthusiasm for chaos.
I had chosen a safer, much more conservative path after school. No one wants to get into the insurance field – ok there are those few oddballs that love the industry but it is safe to say that my office is full of liberal arts majors that spend their days wondering if architecture or computer science would have been a better way to go. Negative and tedious as it is, the money was good – it had to be. The payoff was an existence that most of the world envied. I wasn’t pulling in Silicon Valley dollars but I was doing well – safe.
My GPS robotically interrupted my train of thought and alerted me that the exit was approaching, comically mispronouncing the street’s name. I turned down the curved off ramp and waited at the stop light. The streets were deserted for the most part. The lights over the gas station pumps gave a flicker every second or so almost in synch with the clicking of my turn signal. Dark, business storefronts offered specials in English and what was most likely Mandarin or Cantonese.
This part of the city was cram-packed with block long rows of homes. The façade of these structures looked severe and steep – at that same time, they flowed up the rolling hills like sections of a mass transit train. These were not the celebrated Victorians seen in the tourism ads. Here the reality of housing costs in the city produced a much more depressing visage. Ornate trim and colorful accents gave way to wrought iron security doors and patchwork siding.
I had arrived. I parked on the street, turning my wheels into the curb and set my parking break. I took a moment and told myself that first and foremost, I was going to protect myself. After that, I would do what I could for Kyle. I laughed at myself thinking I had let my imagination run wild on the way up here. This could wind up being nothing more than a simple drive with an old friend. He had given me the address but told me to knock on the small side door off the garage. I knocked and waited for the reply.
3
I thought I heard something behind the door or was it my imagination? Then a loud clunk confirmed that someone had at least heard my knock. A muffled voice grew louder and finally I saw something pass between the peephole and the light inside. The door flung open and a seriously pissed off woman looked me up and down. “Who the hell are you?” she spat.
“Jeez I’m sorry if I got the wrong place but I am looking for Kyle?”
Her seething anger made it hard to pay attention to anything else. The only thing I did notice was that her black hair had been hastily put up in a spikey bun. It added a furious little starburst behind her dagger producing glare.
“I’m an old friend,” I offered, trying to justify my existence on her doorstep in the middle of the night. She seemed to soften but only a bit. Her hot eyes squinted slightly as if asking questions of their own. Even so, she remained firmly within the frame of the doorway as if to bar my entry. It was completely unnecessary as the thought of pushing past her was never an option.
“A little late at night to just drop by on an old friend,” she complained. She made sure to add a little touch of interrogative sarcasm to the words “old” and “friend.”
I was becoming irritated myself. “He gave me this address and asked me to come by. Is he here?”
Just then Kyle appeared behind her. He was lacing a belt through his pants and trying to cram his foot into a sneaker at the same time.
“Dude – you made it! Thanks for coming! She wasn’t giving you any shit was she?”
“Hey! You know you can go to hell Kyle – I don’t have my friends coming by in the middle of the night.” Her mood did not improve but at least I was no longer the center of her attention.
“Don’t mind Stella, Jay. She’s a pain in the ass. Let’s go.”
Kyle had finished putting himself together. He had on an old pair of camouflage cargo pants and a faded concert t-shirt. Between the eroded logo and what looked like dirt, I couldn’t make out the name of the band. Over that, he wore a slightly too small denim jacket. The denim was so light that it had to have been a refugee from 1987. His face showed the stubble of at least a week’s growth and on his head was a bright red, cheap bandana. Overall he looked like some kind of post apocalyptic pirate.
He pushed past Stella and assured her that everything was ok and that he would be back in just a bit. At once I saw the old friend I knew – his easy style with people and his ability to convince anyone of anything. She relented like giving a naughty boy permission to go out and play with his friends. We walked to my car making benign small talk as the heat from my confrontation with Stella began to dissipate. We both got into the car and I locked the doors.
“All right Kyle,” I couldn’t wait any longer, “what is this all about?”
His easy comfortable tone was suddenly replaced with a deadly seriousness.
“Not here dude. Drive.”
4
I instinctively drove towards the highway.
“Where are we going Kyle?”
“It doesn’t matter just drive.”
“Was that your girlfriend?”
“That is a complicated question. It’s good to see you again my man. I really appreciate the lift. Don’t worry I will explain everything. First thing though, do you have an aux port?”
“A what?”
“You know, so I can plug in my iPod.”
Maybe I was overreacting but I couldn’t believe he was worried about music. I opened my middle console and showed him the port. He produced a white cord and an Ipod that had seen better days.
“You’ve gotta hear this. It will change your world.”
“Sure, sure Kyle…but seriously..”
“Hold on,” he interrupted.
My car was filled with what sounded like an old jazz recording. There was a piano, a bass, sax and drums. Nothing I had heard before but I was hardly an aficionado. More importantly, I didn’t give a damn about the music – I wanted answers.
“Sorry,” he started, “I need something to cover our conversation. To answer your question, she is technically my roommate. I found her sleeping under my patio about a month ago and took her in. I am not much for taking in strays but she is a little more entertaining than a cat.”
“So you guys aren’t…”
“Ha – no dude. She has the insane ex that was hanging around for a while. Then she was consumed with getting back on her feet and looking for a job. She helped me out with a little problem I was having too. It’s been a little hectic lately. I haven’t had time to get involved.”
“I see. She was a little protective there.”
“Oh yeah, she’s a little off center.”
The jazz quartet moved through an unimpressive sax solo and finished their first song. Polite applause could be heard between cuts.
“You don’t like her do you?” he asked. He was amused with himself again.
“Um, no Kyle, listen I need to know what is going on and why you called me out here in the middle of the night.”
“I owe you that for sure, sorry. It all kind of started when I found Stella,” he explained. He talked about finding her again and went into the specifics of that night. At one point he became emotional. I never remembered seeing him this upset before. And then, his iPod began to skip.
A portion of the latest cut began to repeat over and over again. Pretty annoying. I looked at Kyle. His head was hung down and he was trying to collect himself. I reached for the iPod and Kyle blocked my hand with an upraised finger. I resigned myself to continue to listen to this loop for another few revolutions. The odd rhythm of the clip played over and over again. I wanted to be patient but the sound was starting to grind my nerves. Every time I looked at Kyle he silently motioned for me to wait. Over and over the cut played.
“Dammit Kyle!” I finally objected.
“Sorry dude.”
He reached over and pushed pause on the device and the car was quite.
“I have cancer Kyle.”
“Oh man I had no idea Kyle, I’m sorry.”
“Well, I guess I should say that I had cancer.”
5
My head was spinning. In the span of a few hours my emotional state had ping ponged between suspicion, annoyance and now concern. I righted my mental ship and in a moment of clarity I knew I needed to take control of the conversation. We had been on the road for a little over a half hour and I still had no idea what this was all about.
“OK, so hold on Kyle,” I said like a concerned parent. “You had terminal cancer and what are you now…in remission?”
“No, I just don’t have cancer anymore.” Kyle was either responding to my new found directness or just purposefully indulging me by allowing our conversation to turn into an interview.
“What kind of cancer did you have…where was it?”
“I had pancreatic cancer, which meant by the time I knew I had it, it was way too late to do anything about it. Crap had spread all over. It was rotten dude…painful.”
“And, now?”
“Free and clear. It’s all gone.”
“You just said it was too late to do anything about it,” I was starting to doubt him.
“That’s right.” He smiled. I had had enough.
“Listen man, I want to help you. But I need to know what this is all about right now. You call me up in the middle of the night, I run over here, you act like you are in some kind of danger…”
“I stole the cure for cancer Jay,” he interrupted.
6
The car went silent. The sounds of my tires hitting the repetitive textures in the highway’s surface reasserted themselves and became the absurd soundtrack to an even more ridiculous conversation.
“Things didn’t exactly go as planned for me after college Jay,” he continued. “I had a few good opportunities flame out. I got involved with a few jerks that screwed me over. It was all bullshit really. I was just looking for the next big thing when I got sick. What was I going to do? I had no insurance. The guy at the clinic said that without medical treatment I wouldn’t last long. Even with treatment it was probably going to be a slim chance of survival. After blowing what little money I had left on what I thought would be one last big party, I fell into a deep depression. Totally not me dude – you know. I was out of options, money and hope.”
“I saw an ad on a utility pole flyer for a cancer study over at Stanford. They needed patients and I figured – what the heck. They had me come in and do all kinds of tests to make sure what I already knew. They had me stay there for weeks. Then the treatments started. I thought they were full of it at first but you know what? Those freakin’ eggheads did it. They cured me Jay.”
My faith in his trustworthiness was weak at best. I wanted to stay safe inside my skepticism. It had been a long time since I had been sucked up into one of his little schemes but there was something different about this. I hadn’t seen him in so long; I marked it up to Kyle upping his game somehow.
“Look Kyle, if you need money or a place to stay I think I can help you out a little. I don’t know what you are really into but I will do what I can okay?”
Kyle smiled and looked into his lap. “That’s what I always loved about you man. That’s why I called you. That and the fact that you are the only person I even know out here. You have no reason to believe me and you still put out your hand to help Jay. That’s why you are here. That’s why I need you.”
He reached into the pocket of his denim jacket and produced a flash drive. It was the typical looking drive wrapped in grey plastic with a tiny rectangular blue square which most likely lit up when stuck into your computer. He pressed the thing into my hand.
“I need you to take this Jay. Take this and keep it safe. This is going to change everything.”
7
I had been aimlessly driving for too long now and we were well past my exit. Although I was kind of heading towards home, I also wasn’t ready to bring this chaos that far into my life just yet. We had made it out of the city enough where the off ramp signs began to advertise those mega truck stops with three different fast food places and “clean” bathrooms. I chose one and pulled off. Kyle made no objections to stopping but was keenly interested in our surroundings.
“This looks good,” he approved. “Good as any I suppose.”
We got out of the car and I locked the doors with my key fob. My car dutifully responded with its usual, “bloop bloop.” I had put the flash drive into my right front pocket so I tucked my car keys into my left. I patted the drive through my jeans to make sure it was still there. Of course I knew it was still there. It was all I could think about.
We chose the generic, diner type place where you could actually sit down and look at a menu. Although the truck stop seemed relatively busy, the diner was deserted. We sat in a teal colored, pleather booth. The completely uninterested waiter finally decided to find out why we were interrupting the mindless text exchange he was having with his ex. We ordered two coffees.
“Why should I believe any of this Kyle?” I started up again.
“Because you have the proof Jay.”
“This thing in my pocket? This could be anything. How in the hell is this the cure for cancer?”
Kyle motioned for me to keep my voice down. He was still afraid for some reason. I let myself play in the fantasy of his story for a moment. He seemed legitimately afraid. If this thing contained some chemical formula that would cure cancer, what in the hell would I do with it and why would Kyle give it to me? If this is all true then had had put me in the middle of his bullshit once again.
“The drive contains a file and that is the cure.” Kyle continued in a hushed tone.
“Say I believe you Kyle. Isn’t the cure for cancer a good thing? Why steal it? This isn’t the kind of thing you sell at a pawn shop.”
“I deserve that I suppose,” he responded. “I was always looking for the quick fix. This is something bigger though Jay. I couldn’t let them do it. This is too big for anyone to cash in on.”
“You mean Stanford?” I asked.
“You are thinking too small Jay. Think about the economics of a cure for cancer. Think about who funded this study in the first place. Who stands to loose when the cure is discovered? When you start thinking about it, the power involved in this is scary.”
“Is that why you are scared? Is that why you got me involved in this?”
“I needed someone that would understand what I am trying to do here. I needed someone that gets it. Don’t you see Jay? This cure belongs to the world. We have to make sure it reaches them.”
8
“Have you ever heard of Jonas Salk?” he asked sounding like an inquisitive professor.
“Um, I think so…polio cure?”
“Exactly! Now how many people do you know with polio?”
I thought for a second. I knew where he was going with this but I wanted to lighten the mood. “F.D.R.?”
“Precisely wise ass. Polio has virtually been eradicated. No one we know has had it and you want to know why?”
“Because Salk found a cure?”
“Yes but what’s more important is what he did with the cure.”
Kyle grew excited as he connected the dots. He sincerely wanted me along on his journey. His emotion was palpable and my disbelief started to fade.
“Are you trying to tell me that no one made any money off of Salk’s vaccine?” I asked.
“Of course not but Salk wasn’t driven by profit. When they asked him who owned the patent on the vaccine, he said you couldn’t patent the sun. Don’t you see? This is like the oxygen we breathe or gravity that holds us to the earth.” He was flying.
“Ok, so it’s that big. Why would anyone try to stop it? Wouldn’t they lose out on their profits now?” I asked, trying to get him back closer to the ground.
“How many times do you think that has happened since the polio vaccine? When was the last time we legitimately cured a major disease? I am not talking about eliminating symptoms or extending lifespans beyond what we thought was possible but an almost 100% elimination of the cause of the disease itself?”
I thought hard. I wanted to find something but nothing really came to mind. I shrugged.
“Think man, Salk’s vaccine was in the 50’s. Consider how much more powerful these companies are today? Let’s not even think about what the government would want to do with a cure like this…and that’s just our government.”
Kyle looked me dead set in the eyes. In all the years I had spent with him in college I had never known him to be this dead set on something. There was always a smirk or angle or something that revealed the mischievous man behind the curtain. He loved showing his ass while working his con. Either there was no angle or Kyle simply wasn’t willing to show me yet.
“So you and I are going to save the world Kyle…how nice.” I felt myself slipping towards full belief in Kyle’s story and sarcasm had long been one of my go to defensive mechanisms. “Hold that thought dude…I’ll be right back.” I got up to go to the bathroom. As I left the table out of the corner of my eye I caught Kyle’s expression. He looked disappointed.
I walked past the seat yourself sign and looked around for the restroom like a tourist. I found my objective. The bathroom was thick with a combination of Johnny cake and the result of poor marksmanship. If Kyle was telling the truth this is going to be a giant mess. I started rolling exit scenarios through my head. How could he and I possibly get a cure for cancer to the people of the world? I knew a few professors back in school but what the heck could they do with it? I washed my hands and dried my hands on the sandpaper like rectangles of paper towels.
As I walked back to the table, I noticed that Kyle’s jacket was on the floor. I looked up and saw my friend slumped over in the booth against the glass window pane. A small, dark red circle was in the middle of his forehead. I reached to touch him. “Kyle…” He fell over towards me revealing a large splatter of blood and bits of matter across the top of the booth. Kyle was dead!
9
“Where is the drive Mr. Nichols?”
I spun around and a large dark figure was suddenly behind me. After registering his question my mind immediately flew to the bit of technology in my jeans pocket. It was all I could do restrain my eyes and fingers from moving towards his prize.
“You killed my friend!” I sputtered. It was both a question and a statement since by the time the words left my lips, my brain had caught up to my initial reaction to seeing my friend with a hole in his head.
He continued in a hushed but forceful tone, “It would be in your best interest to keep your voice down. You can see I am not shy about public places but we still may be able to resolve this without your death Mr. Nichols. That path requires your cooperation I am afraid.”
His entire form was solid and he stood a good foot taller than me. He wore non-descript black clothing that had enough variant details to dissuade anyone from thinking that he was wearing a military uniform. His hair was close-cropped and dark with the occasional spike here and there. He had a face you might forget the next time you saw it but was impossible to ignore under the circumstances.
“Look,” I managed in a veneer of quite calm, “I don’t have any drive. My friend called me up and asked for a lift. That’s all I know. I don’t want any trouble. I have nothing to do with this. I just want to leave.” My shock was making me ramble.
I saw him process my lie. His face contorted and relaxed while he must have been replaying my words in his head. Did he believe me or was he weighing the different methods of murder available to him.
“Take off your clothes – now!” he ordered.
It hit me out of left field. I looked back at him with a more natural and fearless reaction before remembering that this may be the end of me. I looked around the restaurant. It was more deserted than before. Then it clicked. If he had my clothes he had the cure. If he killed me he had the cure. Lesser of two evil for him was the command to disrobe. Thinking I would think of some way out of this, I stalled for time.
I undid the second button on my polo shirt and tugged the collar over my head. He looked pleased. Even in this no win situation, I couldn’t keep my smartass thoughts out of my head. This guy was enjoying this way too much. I kicked off my left shoe and my mind slammed back into panic mode. I wasn’t coming up with anything brilliant.
Hitting this guy was out of the question. I slipped off my right shoe. Running might work but I can’t outrun a bullet. I pulled off my socks. I looked around again and saw no one. Would yelling even help? As I made a small pile on the floor in front of me he pulled my clothes towards him with his foot. Could I destroy the drive? What the hell good would that do? I pulled my belt through the loops of my jeans and my hand stopped, ready to undo my pants. I was out of time.
Then, I heard a tiny glass crack behind me. I turned and looked at the window near the booth with my motionless friend. I saw nothing but the inky blackness beyond punctuated with the occasional fluorescent green glow of the truck stop lights. I heard a loud thud behind me. I spun around and saw the big man on the floor. He had a wound that matched Kyle’s. I hit the floor and jammed myself under the booth table.
I was in full panic mode. Maybe this guy didn’t kill Kyle. Who the hell shot this guy? I just needed to get the hell out of there. At that moment, I heard a gurgle come from above me. Kyle was somehow still alive.
10
The restaurant was silent except for the electronic hum of some appliances in the kitchen. Kyle had slumped over onto the teal clad booth bench. His face was inches from mine.
“Kyle…” I whispered.
He looked horrible. The small red dot on his forehead had grown into twin rivers of blood, that had traced down his face. The booth was smeared with what remained of the back of his head. He couldn’t have much life left in him. I reached up and felt his neck for a pulse. My heart was pounding so hard it was almost impossible to tell if I felt Kyle’s weak heartbeat or if I was projecting my own.
He gurgled again and spit blood from his lips like a child tasting his first bite of stewed spinach. However possible, Kyle still had something left in him. Even if the chance was slim, he needed medical attention now. I needed to get out of here. We needed to get to the car.
I crawled to the edge of the table and listened. Nothing. I looked around at the deserted dining area. I looked back at the window and finally saw the small hole made by the assassin’s bullet. It was time to run.
I stood up and pulled Kyle out of the booth. I tried to get him on his feet but he was lifeless and heavy. I wrestled with holding him upright for a moment and then let him slump against me with my hands below his shoulders. I looked for my exit and found an emergency door in the corner of the dining room. I dragged Kyle through it and out into the night.
With more difficulty I got Kyle into the passenger seat of my car and strapped him in with the seat belt. My chest, arms and hands had Kyle’s blood on them. I thought about the pile of my discarded clothes on the restaurant floor. There was no way I could risk going back for them and dragging Kyle took all my effort. I shut the car door and took a quick look around the parking lot as I ran around to the driver’s side door.
I jammed the car into gear and looked at the parking lot again. The area where I imagined the shooter was located was behind the building in a dried out grassy field. I thought I could see the outline of a vehicle but it could just as well have been a dumpster for all I could see. The front of the truck stop actually seemed like business as usual. Cars and trucks were moving in and out of the parking lot like nothing had happened.
I thought for a moment about stopping and asking for help but Kyle needed to get to a hospital and explaining things to a stranger would take time. I also still had a killer out there. We had to get away.
I pulled out of the parking lot and got back on the highway.
11
Where was the nearest hospital? Fortunately I had kept my phone in the pocket opposite Kyle’s flash drive. I thumbed through the apps and looked up the nearest hospital. We were about 15 minutes out. Gradually, my heart rate started to slow. I exhaled loudly. As my fear recessed, my brain suddenly had the capacity for reason. The problem was, all I had were more questions. I realized that the thick guy in black knew my name. He knew I had the flash drive. He knew where we were. We must have been followed since leaving Kyle’s place.
I looked in my rear view mirror. Was someone following us now? There were a few pairs of headlights behind us but nothing that looked sinister. If someone was following us now there was very little I could do about it. I looked over at my friend. He had been silent and motionless since we left but I noticed that he had somehow picked up his iPod. I remembered how choked up Kyle had been while playing his jazz music before we made it to that damn truck stop.
“A little music to make you feel better buddy? Sure.”
I nudged the device out of his bloody hand and pressed the bottom of the selector wheel. The car was again filled with the sound of live jazz music. But it was still on the skip. Something was wrong with this cut. I looked at the iPod and tried to advance the cut. Managing this was made more difficult due to that fact that I still had to watch the road and Kyle blood made the controls even harder to use than usual. The last thing we needed now was this annoying bit of music over and over again.
Kyle reached up and grabbed my hand. “Let it play Jay.”
A short yell jumped out of my throat. Startled, I looked at Jay and he was sitting up and staring right at me. “Don’t be scared man. Just give me a minute here and let this go to work.”
The skipping section of jazz music played on and Kyle grew stronger by the second. He started wiping the blood from his face and eyes. Next he felt the back of his head. He was pressing and pushing like molding a clay sculpture. He returned his attention to his face. “Do you have any napkins in here?” he asked in a matter of fact tone? I silently opened the glove box. The skip continued to repeat.
It was hard to concentrate on the road with the ridiculous events transpiring in my passenger seat. Kyle wiped his forehead clean and that’s when I saw that the bullet wound was completely gone. Kyle looked at me with a sly look I remembered all too well.
I found my voice. “Are you kidding me you dick?!? This was all an act? Are you playing with me? I thought you were dead. You scared the crap outta me back there. What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh I was shot alright,” he explained. “…and I was pretty near dead as you can be. That jerk wasn’t taking any chances. I guess they really don’t care about me anymore. Fortunately you got me back to the car. You really saved my life back there.”
“Wait you were shot? This wasn’t some practical joke?”
“No joke man. When have you ever known me to be that cruel? You wound me dude.”
His sense of humor was in extremely poor taste. This had either been a seriously cruel joke at my expense or he somehow had recovered from a bullet wound to the head. I looked at him again. Other than the blood he missed around his ear lobe, you wouldn’t know he had been shot at all.
“I guess we can turn this off now, huh” he said and he picked up the iPod again. The car went silent. “You see Jay, I was exactly 100% truthful with you before. I didn’t just steal the cure for cancer. I stole the cure for everything.”
