William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

“And were you successful?”

“No. Nothing happened.”

“What have you learned from this?”

“That-that perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps this is not the way.”

“No!” The dark voice split his skull, knocking him to his knees. “You failed because your faith was weak.”

“That’s not true. I believed. I did everything I could to-”

“You failed because your offerings were unwilling. They withheld their spirit. You did not ascend.”

“I’ve done everything I know to do.”

“Why did you not take the doctor?”

“I didn’t get a chance. Another man-”

“That is the answer of the weak! The dissembler. The betrayer.”

“No! I-I-”

“Your faith is not strong. That is why Dream-Land did not accept your offerings. To succeed you must be strong.”

“Please-”

“From this moment forward, everything will be different. You will act as prescribed by your destiny. You will be my Instrument.”

“Yes. Yes!”

“Would you know the secret?”

He braced himself against the wall. The voice was so loud, so overpowering. “What-secret?”

“Would you know why you have failed?”

Tears came to his eyes. “Yes. Please!”

“Then I will tell you. But not until you have done what you know you must.”

“But I-I-”

“It is your Destiny. Do this and I will give you the knowledge that you seek.”

“I will. I swear to you. I will!”

It had taken almost half an hour to finish all the checks, sign the papers, and put the bodyguards at ease, but Harv and Dr. Spencer eventually entered the employee parking lot. It was ridiculously dark, Harv thought. Of course, he came out here every night and it had never bothered him before. But it was different when you were on the job. In this blackness, how well could he protect her? How could he know what lurked in the hedge beyond the north perimeter? How could he know who might be watching from one of the balconies? Maybe he should’ve asked those bodyguards to come all the way to the car…

“Best to get right to it, ma’am,” he said, trying to sound very official. Spencer pointed toward the far end of the third row of cars and they headed that way. “I’ve really enjoyed working with your team,” he added.

“I’m glad,” she replied, walking with determination and deliberate speed. “I’m grateful for your assistance.”

“This is a great thing you’re doing. A great thing. If you don’t mind my saying so… you do your daughter proud.”

“Well… thank you.” They rounded the end of the third row and started down it.

“I just wanted to tell you, while I had the chance… and I hope you don’t mind…”

“What is it?”

“Well, this security work, it’s a fine job and all, but it isn’t what I really want to do, you know? I mean, I’d hate to think of me ending up like one of those guys you see at the mall, gray hair and a paunch that stretches out a mile in front of the uniform. So old they don’t let them carry a gun.”

“We all get old, Harvey.”

“Yeah, but you’re doing work that’s important. Not just this but that… that stuff back in New York, helpin’ people find fulfillment and all. Anyway, I just wanted to say-after this is all over and you’ve caught the dirty bastard who took your daughter’s life, if there’s anything I can do for you-”

“If I ever need a security officer, you’ll be the first one I call.”

“Well… yeah. That’d be nice. Or anything. There’s a lot I can do. I’m good with a wood lathe and I make these pillboxes that my wife gives all her friends at Christmas. They really love ’em. I even play a little banjo…”

They reached her car. “You get in the passenger seat, ma’am. I’ll drive.”

“If you don’t mind.” She slid inside.

Harv walked around the back. Just as he came by the trunk, the headlights lit on a car at the far end of the row.

“Who the hell is that?” Harv muttered. He kept walking.

The car peeled out. Tires squealing, accelerating.

Heading straight toward him.

“Son of a bitch,” Harv muttered. “Stop! You’re under arrest!”

The car kept coming. Even faster.

Harv drew his weapon. “Stop!”

Despite the haze of the headlights, Harv realized-it was his own car.

And it was about to kill him.

He fired twice. Both shots hit the windshield. But the car kept coming.

Harv turned, trying to get out of the way. But he wasn’t nearly fast enough. The car surged forward, engine roaring, till it smashed into the back of Dr. Spencer’s car.

Bisecting Harv.

He unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the car. Then he paused, gazing down at what was left of his colleague. “Guess you’re not so tall now, huh?”

He opened the passenger-side door. Spencer was conscious, but her eyelids were fluttering. The twisted position of her body told him she had not been wearing a seat belt. A streak of blood ran down the right side of her head. She was breathing rapidly, panting, cowering, her hands clutched to her chest.

“Come,” he said simply. “We don’t have much time.” He held out his hand.

Spencer stabbed him with a pocketknife, ripping the flesh of his palm. Then she pushed him away and tried to scramble out of the bucket seat.

He grabbed her throat with his uninjured hand and squeezed. He knocked the knife out of her hand and shoved her forcefully back into the car, falling forward, halting his descent with a hand on the floor mat. She reached up and scratched the side of his face.

“Oww!” His face flushed red with rage. He pulled the syringe out of his coat pocket and jabbed it brutally into her neck. A few seconds later, the struggle was over.

His hand was bleeding. He had to be careful not to let it drip; the police would have a field day with a blood or skin sample and he didn’t have time to perform a thorough cleanup. Even this time of night, someone must’ve heard the crash. He pulled a tissue out of his shirt pocket and wrapped the wound, wincing at the hideous torn mess she had made of his hand.

He put the pain out of his mind. It had been a brilliant stroke, using Harv’s own car. Since the man had never been able to keep his mouth shut longer than it took to breathe, he’d known which car was Harv’s and where he left his keys.

He could not fault Dr. Spencer for attempting to defend herself. But he could fault her for what she had done before, how she had publicly and brutally maligned him. He could not let this offense pass. He had been told he must be strong, and so, like it or not, he had to act. For his honor. And for… for…

For the love of God, Montresor!

Yes, he thought, as he lifted her body and carried it back to his truck. For the love of God.

I saw him again. Standing at the foot of my bed, just like before. He was wearing pajama bottoms and no shirt. I always thought he was sexiest when he wore pajama bottoms and no shirt.

“Are you attracted to him?” David asked.

“I dunno,” I mumbled, still barely awake, if at all. “Maybe.”

“It’s okay, you know.”

“Well, yeah, we’re both consenting adults, even if he is-”

“I mean with me. It’s okay with me.”

“It is?” I tried to pull my head off the pillow, but my body wasn’t responding to commands.

“Of course.” He looked so strong, so manly, like when we were first married. Like a man who was capable of doing anything. “I don’t expect you to become a nun.”