Shawn Inmon - The Vigilante Life of Scott McKenzie

“Yep. Exactly. I’ve done that so often, it didn’t bother me. It’s not suicide, it’s just starting over. Or, resetting, as the woman you met in the library called it.” He paused, thoughtfully, staring at his shoes. “I was pretty messed up when I got back from the war. I challenge anyone to live in a VA hospital, in the conditions we did, and not end up a little crazy. If the war didn’t do it to you, that place sure did. Also, living a couple of dozen lifetimes helps a lot. It took me a long time to get some distance from all that, but I’ve got my feet under me now.”

Joe sat down suddenly on the sofa. “Holy buckets, Scott. You are rocking my world. Two dozen lives? I’m on my third, and I lose track of things. I have so many questions! How old are you when you start over each time? Don’t you ever get confused about what’s happened before, and what’s happening in this life?”

Scott held his hand up, looking for a pause in the rapid-fire questions.

“I wake up not long after I got my honorable discharge and I was out of that hell hole of a hospital. If I woke up further back, and I had to spend that year there again, I don’t think I would have ever done it a second time. Of course, if I went a little further back, I could have chosen to head for Canada and saved myself the trauma of the war. The hell of it is, I wake up on the day after my grandmother dies. For my sister and my Gramps, it’s like she’s just died, but for me, she’s been gone for lifetimes.”

Joe found his feet again and wandered out into the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

Scott waved him off and said, “No, I’m good.”

Joe came back into the living room with a glass of iced tea tinkling in his hand.

“So do you interfere in these bad things happening, then just disappear like you did in New York?”

“That’s the plan, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Sometimes, people get suspicious about how I happened to be in a particular place at a particular time. That scene at the Dakota was a little different. Most of the things I do aren’t high profile like that. I had intended to jump into action that night, when I realized you were there to do the same job. But, I was prepared just in case.”

Joe dropped his eyes to the floor. “After I blew it.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. The first time I tried to do something like that, I blew it. The guy killed me and I had to start over again. But you? You didn’t hesitate. You jumped right into the line of fire. I should have been there, then you wouldn’t have been shot.”

“But, do your changes stick? I mean, if you save someone, they get to live out their normal lives?”

“That’s the way it’s been every time I’ve been able to check, anyway—with the possible exception of John Lennon, that is. Why?”

“Because I changed two events. I saved John Lennon and two friends. Then, they all three died on the same day, less than a year later. I can’t figure out why the people that I saved died again right away, but the people you save don’t.”

That’s interesting. He’s right. He makes changes and the universe seems to push back. I make changes and people get to go on living. Why would that be? Unless…

“Maybe I’ve found my calling, and yours is to be something else. I think if God, or the universe, or whatever machine is out there, running things, didn’t want me doing this, the same thing would have happened to the people I saved.”

Scott watched Joe turn that over in his mind, find some truth in it. He abandoned that line of questioning. “So, what are you planning on doing next?”

“I’m not sure where I’m going next. I know who the Green River Killer is, and if I don’t do something about it, he’s going to keep going for a long time.”

“How you going to do that?”

How much do you want to know about what I do, Joe? You’re pretty innocent, and it’s best that you stay that way.

“Haven’t decided yet. I could hang out on his hunting grounds and hope to get lucky, or I could put together a few reasons why I know it’s him and take it to the King County Sheriff up there. He’s a tricky one though. He lived in the shadows, so it’s harder for me to catch him in the act. Ted Bundy was easier.”

“Ted Bundy? He’s one of the big ones.”

“You’ve heard of him, right?”

“Of course. Everyone’s heard of him. Mark Harmon played him in that made for TV movie, he’s famous.”

“Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we are well after the time he stopped killing in our other lives, right? He should be famous. But, ask anyone you know if they’ve ever heard of him. I guarantee you they haven’t.”

Scott saw understanding come over Joe. “I get it. No one has heard of him, because you stopped him before he became well-known, right?”

Scott nodded and smiled.

“What did you do?”

“Do you remember when he abducted and killed two women at Lake Sammamish?”

“Of course. Anyone who lives in the Pacific Northwest would remember that. He had his arm in a cast, asked women to help him, then killed them.”

“Right. Except this time, he didn’t. Before I reset, I memorized the date he did that. Young Mr. Bundy didn’t take anyone that day, but he got taken himself.”

“You killed him?”

“Do you think anyone would miss him?”

“Maybe his family, but the world at large? No. Certainly not me. I know what he was capable of. How did you do it?”

“Certain stories are better left unsaid. I don’t want to spoil your appetite.”

“Speaking of which, it’s getting close to dinner time.” Joe walked into the kitchen again, pulled two steaks out of the freezer and set them to thaw. “Got time enough to hang around here for at least a couple of days? I’ve got a pretty nice little house in the backyard that you can stay in for as long as you want. It’s not the New York YMCA, but it’s not bad.”

Scott leaned back in the chair and said, “Yeah, I think I could take a little time off the road. I’ve got some laundry that needs doing.”

“Washer and dryer are right in the house. Come on, I’ll show you. You can get unpacked while I get the barbecue fired up.”

Joe let Scott into a fully-furnished little house that was completely contained in his backyard. Joe had said it had once been for the mother of the couple who he bought the house from. He had lived in it before he bought the cottage in front.

However he had come to it, the little house was nice. It was newer, but somehow it reminded Scott of his little cabin on the woods in Vermont. Except here, every right angle was straight. Maybe it was the feeling of solitude it gave him, like he was tucked away from the rest of the world.

It was just one bedroom, a living room, a small kitchen and bathroom, but the bath had a stackable washer and dryer. What else did a single man need?

It never took Scott long to unpack. How could it, when his entire wardrobe consisted of three pairs of jeans, a few shirts, half a dozen pairs of socks and underwear and not much more? In fact, he rarely unpacked. He preferred to live out of the backpack, which made for quick getaways when needed. He did appreciate the fact that he could get his laundry clean, though.

Scott had been on the road for a few consecutive days, so he grabbed a hot shower and felt like a new man.