Alienated (5 page)

I
winked at her. "Been here long?"

She
glanced at her watch. "Only since sunup."

I
chuckled, shaking my head. "Early bird."

"Night
owl."

"At
least we're in the same species."

"Genus,
maybe." She threw her bare arms around my neck and planted a firm kiss on
my cheek.

I
pinched her right above the knee, and she squealed, falling back onto her
towel. "New bikini?" I said.

"You
like?" She adjusted the straps behind her neck.

"Oh
yeah." I gestured toward my unruly shoulder blades. "Hey, if you
wouldn't mind—"

She
didn't. "Can't have you turning into a lobster again."

We
both had no difficulty remembering my first California sunburn six months ago.
It was at the bonfire where we first met.

"Anything
to avoid that—"

My
voice trailed off.

A
sick feeling collapsed into the pit of my stomach.

There,
standing with his bare feet in the water, facing us and looking straight at me,
was the same man I'd seen in the rearview last night. The one who'd tried to
pick my lock. He didn't move as multiple beachgoers frolicked past, and he made
no effort to hide the fact that he was watching me.

"What
is it?" Jana leaned forward, chin on my shoulder, and nibbled at my ear
lobe.

Frozen,
I couldn't shake my gaze from him.

"You
were saying—"

"Yeah."
I cleared my throat, focused on the hot sand between my toes. "You
hungry?" I got to my feet, pulling up my towel with me.

"Didn't
you bring—?"

"Just
drinks. We should go get something to eat."

"But
you just got here!"

I
glanced toward the crashing waves.

He
was gone.

I
scanned up and down the shoreline, but he was nowhere to be seen. My shoulders
relaxed a fraction of an inch.

"And
we haven't even gotten wet," she said, pouting just a little.

Without
another thought, I grabbed her, hoisted her up under her arms and knees,
ignoring her screams and flailing limbs. I charged straight for the ocean,
drawing the attention of everyone nearby on the beach. Some pointed and
laughed, others cheered and applauded. Jana's screams turned into laughter,
then back into screams as we tumbled into an oncoming wave. It crashed liquid
ice through our bones. I lost my grip on her slick skin, and she went under,
emerging to smooth back her sandy blonde hair and give me a playful shove. I
pulled her close and gave her a long kiss, turning as I did so to scan the
shoreline one more time.

He
was nowhere in sight.

* * *

After
a quick rinse, we emerged from the outdoor showers with our towels and hair
sopping wet, our sunglasses spotted with the infamous SoCal hard water stains.
Jana had scored a parking spot in the lot, and she offered to give me a lift
back to my car, parked three blocks away in the neighborhood.

Her
compact Mazda was already like an oven inside after just a few hours parked in
the sun, so we opened the windows and doors to air it out. She worked on
combing the knots out of her hair while I set the cooler on the backseat and
played bartender.

"Coke?"
I offered her a cold, sweaty can.

"Thanks.
Where were you thinking—for lunch?"

"Well—"

The
car next to her backed out. She shut her door and situated herself behind the
wheel. Another car eased in; perfect timing. Sometimes that's all it took to
get a good spot in the lot. I glanced over—

It
was my car.

The
same make, model, color.

"We
have to go, Jana."

"What's
wrong?" She frowned at me.

My
double threw open his door and stepped out.

"Nothing—just
go. Now. Go now!"

"I
don't understand—"

Then
she saw him. He came around the front end of his car and stood there, staring
at us through the windshield. The corpse-like flesh of his face held no
expression, but his eyes kindled with a dark malevolence.

I
pounded the dashboard with a fist as Jana fumbled with her keys, jamming them
into the ignition and firing up the engine. My ghost-twin reached after us like
a slow-moving zombie, white fingers grappling through the air as Jana slammed
the stick into reverse and gunned it, whipping us backward to burn rubber out
of there.

"Who
was that?" Jana demanded. "What the hell is going on?"

"Faster.
Go!" I glanced over my shoulder to find him climbing into his Honda.

Jana
took us out of the parking lot at close to 60 mph, and we joined the La Jolla
traffic swelling toward Interstate 5.

"Talk
to me, Mike. Who the hell was that?"

Whoever
he was, he wasn't following us. The only car in the rearview was an old surf
bus with stained long boards lashed to the roof.

"I
don't know." I swallowed, trying to organize my thoughts. "He looked
a little like me, don't you think?"

"A
lot
like you." Her tone made it clear I wasn't losing my mind.
She'd seen exactly what I had. "Some weird twin brother I don't know
about?" She wasn't joking.

But
she knew I was an only child. "Three times now," I muttered under my
breath.

"You've
seen him before? Is he following you?"

"Last
night, coming off the freeway, that was the first time." I couldn't say
any more without alarming her further.

"What
does he want?"

"I
have no idea."

"Has
he said anything to you? Or does he just
stare
like that?"

I
nodded. She took us onto the 5, accelerating to 80 mph, taking us north to my
place, I assumed. But we couldn't go there. He already knew where I lived.

"Just
keep driving," I said.

"Where?"
She swallowed, relaxed her death grip on the wheel for a moment. "Where do
you want to go?"

Where
he can't find us,
I thought.

"Should
we go to the police?" she said.

I
shook my head. "What would I tell them? Officer, there's this guy stalking
me, and he looks just like me—except for the whole killer zombie thing he's got
going on."

"You
could confront him—"

"You
think I should? Really? Tell me Jana, what would you say to your very own
doppelgänger?
Hey, you look familiar. Where have we met before?
"

She
blew out a sigh. "I just can't believe this is happening."

"Join
the club."

We
drove past the exit to my place and continued on, beyond Carlsbad and
Oceanside. Tail lights became the norm as traffic increased. Jana took the next
exit and we turned back, heading south. We finished the Cokes in the cooler,
and our nerves seemed to settle despite the caffeine. We picked up my car at
the Shores and parted company for the time being, planning to meet up again
later for dinner and a movie, something normal to prove that everything was
really all right. It had to be. 

But
we never got there.

* * *

When
I returned to my condo, I found it in shambles. It should have clued me in when
I ran into Paul, the facilities manager, and he'd looked confused at the sight
of me, like he'd just seen me leave and wondered what I was doing back so soon.

My
entire place had been ransacked. I could only stare at the mess. Nothing sat in
its original location, not even the appliances. The fridge lay tipped over on
its side, and food littered the floor, squashed and smeared into the carpet. My
new widescreen TV, my Bose sound system, my laptop—smashed to pieces. But they
didn't hold my attention.

Instead
it was the paper note sticking out of the DVD player, the scrap with Jana's
address printed on it in even handwriting I instantly recognized as my own.

I
grabbed my cell phone, fumbled with it as I raced downstairs. The line hummed,
incessant. Maybe Jana wasn't home yet.

I
got into my car and tore out of the parking lot, speeding over to her place as
fast as I could.

* * *

Her
Mazda sat in the driveway of her coastal cottage. The sight of her front door
ajar sent my heart plummeting. I pulled to the curb and left the engine running,
dashing into the house and stumbling across the doorstep as I shouted her name.

Water
ran in the bathroom.

The
door was half-shut.

"Jana—!"
I plowed through the door like it wasn't even there.

She
screamed, pulling back the shower curtain to cover herself.

"What
the hell!" she sputtered, recovering at the sight of me. "Trying to
scare me to death, Mike?" She laughed it off, lowering the curtain.

The
front door slammed shut.

"What
was that?"

"Stay
put." I crept down the short hallway, careful not to step on sections of
the wood floor that creaked.

"Michael?"
she whispered after me.

I
peered into each room I passed, holding my breath. When would he strike?

I
knew he was inside. I could feel it.

But
the moment never came. I locked the front door, flipped the deadbolt, held it
in place. I double-checked the living room, the kitchen, the guest room, even
the closets. All were empty.

"What's
going on?" Jana peeked out of the bathroom, her long hair dripping.

"It's
all right. I just—"

"He
was
here
?" She read the look on my face.

"We're
okay now."

She
stifled a short cry and pointed. I turned toward the front window. There on the
stoop outside, staring back at us, stood my doppelgänger.

"What
does he want?" she whispered, shuddering at the sight of him.

Fury
replaced the fear I had tasted only moments before. How dare he come to my
fiancé's home and scare her like this? How dare he invade our privacy? Who the
hell did he think he was?
Me
?

I
charged straight for the windows without a clear plan of action, hurling every
foul insult I could muster, jabbing my index finger in his direction, threatening
to call the police—even taking out my cell and mime-dialing 911.

But
he just stood there.

Watching
me.

I
screamed until I was hoarse, my face burning crimson and my throat scratched
raw. Jana got in on the action behind me, shrieking, "Go away! Leave us
alone!"

His
eyes flicked to her wrapped in her towel and remained there, fully absorbed.
Honest to God, if I'd had a gun, I would have blown off his head right then.

"Don't
you look at her." I stormed the window, blocking his view. "Get the
hell out of here!"

His
eyes twitched to look at me, this deranged, netherworldly version of myself. A
mirror image from Hell's fun house. He planted his palm against the window. On
it, scrawled in black marker in my own handwriting, were three words:

YOU
ARE DEAD

Jana
saw it and cowered, backpedaling out of the room and screaming my name, telling
me to call the police right now.

I
looked him in the eye. "You want to kill me? Is that it?" I nodded,
bridling the fury that raged through me, harnessing its power. "Fine. But
not here."

He
dropped his hand from the window and turned away. I watched him go. He climbed
behind the wheel of my sedan left running at the curb, and gave me a direct
look as he accelerated into the flow of traffic.

"Jana,
I need to borrow your car," I said.

She
tried to convince me to stay with her, even resorted to dragging me away from
the door. But I had a score to settle with my doppelgänger. The last time I
checked, my baseball bat was still in the closet at my place. It would have to
do.

Kissing
Jana through her tears, my hands trembled as they stroked the sides of her
face. "I'll be back," I said like I knew what would happen next.

"Where
are you going?" she demanded, choking on her sobs. "You can't
go."

I
retrieved her spare keys from the kitchen. "I'm ending this."

* * *

Which
brings us back to the present. Poolside. Watching him float facedown, bleeding
out like crazy. The baseball bat was right where I'd left it, of course.

I
was waiting for him, you see.

He'd
given me a head start, after all.

This
is a nice condo complex, much better than where I'm from. The pool itself is a
well-maintained marvel. The facilities manager here does good work. Paul is his
name, I believe.