MAN FROM TOMORROW

“Anita? Is that you?” He asked, just to be sure. He had forgotten to save her number when she had given him a missed call the other day.

“Y-yeah, you said I could call you if I needed help….”

She paused to wipe a sniffle. Martin realized that she was crying. He was on full alert now. Something had to be wrong in order for her to be asking for help.

“What happened?” He kept his voice steady and calm, despite the fact that his heart was racing. Was this just another coincidence? Surely something wouldn’t have happened to the woman again, so soon after a traumatic event? Definitely not at the same time that he was checking out Joseph’s place.

“I just got back from work a-and I saw that my front door had been forced open... S-someone must have broken in!” She said, obviously panicked.

“Have you gone inside yet?”

“No! I don’t know if someone is still inside-”

“Good. Keep calm and wait outside. Give me your address and I’ll be there right away,” Martin said. He was a bit relieved that she had the sense to stay out of the house until it was cleared. Who knew what would happen if she went inside and the intruders were still there? While Anita gave him the information he needed to get to her place, he was running to his car. By the time he hung up, he was in the vehicle and driving down to see what in the world had happened to Anita.

The man who had saved Anita was in a meditative mood of his own. He didn’t quite believe himself when he thought this, but he was sure he’d seen the accident before it happened. When he bumped into her on the sidewalk just a minute before it happened, he got the strongest chill he’d ever experienced. He ‘knew’ something was to happen, though, at the time, he hadn’t known what. He wasn’t the kind of man to stand by and watch something he was capable of changing. Even if he hadn’t foreseen the accident as he thought he did, it was the reason he followed her instead of continuing on his way, which he could have very well done. That fast decision was the only reason he’d been there in time to save her. If he was cautious and saved her life, as a result, didn’t mean anything, he wasn’t sure what did.

There was something about ‘knowing’ that someone was about to die- and that you could do something about it- that changed the way he thought of life. He was positive that the woman he saved knew just as well as he did that if he hadn’t stepped in to help her, she would be dead. No doubt about it.

He took a long, deep breath and thought about the implications of everything that happened as of late. Nothing seemed as real to him as it used to, especially not since he’d been on the run. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but someone out there was looking for him. It was something he noticed slowly, over a period. He kept running into the same people, who he quickly grew suspicious of. Soon he saw that they were watching him, seeming to record everything he did and follow him everywhere he went. For what reason they were interested in him, he didn’t have a clue, but he knew that their intentions were not good.

It happened a month ago. He’d been in his earlier home- when someone suspicious parked outside his enterprise. He’d been on the upper level of the building at the time, watching them approach from one of the open windows. They were dressed completely in black, not one inch of their skin in view, even on their face. Very much out of place in the middle of a Suburb, where his former home was located.

At first, he hadn’t been worried about them. He was upstairs, and because he worked errands, the front door was rarely open. This time, it hadn’t been, so he watched them approach and thought little of it. But when they tried the door, and it failed to open, they didn’t leave. He watched as the mysterious person picked his lock and came inside. There were places inside that he could hide without a problem, and that’s what he did. He didn’t need to get anyone else involved in the affairs that he thought were his, so he didn’t. Nothing came of it that day. But since then he’d relocated. He believed that there might even be an attempt on his life.

He shook his head and thought of that day. The woman he saved was something different- she was, at the same time as not being involved with those who were after her, was just exactly that. There was no way for him to tell what that even meant, but he was sure that it would come in due time. What he did know, however, was that life was not what it used to be. He was born, nay created for some purpose. But what it was and what it was going to be actually were really two different things. While life throws challenges unknown, Death seems like a paradise. But when we choose the way we live; we also choose the way we die. One way or the other.

The man dropped all of his worries and focused on the situation at hand. He tuned his body to the most primal of instincts: the will to survive. And to do that, he needed to stay as he was, incognito.

On the way to Anita’s place, Martin couldn’t help but wonder how connected his case was in her current predicament. Of course, nothing has been for sure yet, but Martin was sure that it wasn’t a coincidence. Considering that, however, what would anyone want with Anita? She knew less than he did and assuming the break-in had something to do with his case, it would have to be something about Joseph. Who would have thought that she might have anything useful? Was someone else investigating Joseph, or had Joseph hired some lackeys to look into her because they knew Martin was after him? Martin had followed the utmost secrecy in handling the case. Moreover, Martin’s Investigation was supposed to be highly confidential. Or was it? So many questions, and still no answers. In due time, he thought, in due time.

Martin reached Anita’s house as quick as was humanly possible. He sped when he could get away with it, but it wasn’t all that necessary. He was rather surprised to find that she wasn’t all that far from the Joseph’s supposed garage, still on the edge of town that most considered nowhere.

He pulled up in front of the address she had given him but had to make sure he’d gotten it right. There was no mistaking the short, attractive woman who stood outside the white picket fence. Martin stifled the whistle he felt coming. She had a big house for a young woman. Martin was quick to think that no matter how well protected her house was, a place like that was going to be a target of all the thieves in the city. It looked so out of place compared to everything else, like the royalty’s castle surrounded by its peasants’ huts.

The grass in the yard was lively and green, and Martin could see the makings of a garden on the far side of the yard, though he couldn’t make out what was in it from the distance. It was a two-storey building with wide windows on the front, both on the first and second floors. The outside was a dull cream, lined with sky blue. Martin had to admit that it was quite an attractive home.

Anita saw him get out of his car and waved him over. He saw, unsurprisingly, that Anita’s expression of desperation mirrored what he had imagined. He understood what she was feeling and how terrible it was. She was helpless in her own thoughts.

“Martin!” She called, her face brightening a bit. “Thank you so much for coming…” she turned and pushed the gate into her yard open when he neared, walked in ahead of him.

“Sure, no problem. I’ll take a look around,” he said. For a moment he considered telling her his thoughts on how she could be targeted, but hers was a home that could be targeted by simple robbers too. It was likely that it was unrelated to his case, and he doubted that Anita even thought that it was. Because of all that, there was no point in letting her know. She was spooked enough already that someone broke into her home.

He followed her into the yard and while behind her, on the small path, continued to admire her home. The windows took most of his attention. They were the kind of large, welcoming windows that he would want on his own family home. Something that Martin thought was strange, however, was that the long, deep blue curtains were closed.

“Do you usually keep your curtains down?” He asked.

Anita’s breath hitched, and she uttered “No.”

Martin knew it meant someone definitely had been inside, what prompted them to close the curtains was, at that moment, quite beyond him. Perhaps, they knew they would be inside for some time? If that were the case, then they wouldn’t want to be interrupted. But what could they want from Anita that could take time to search?

At that moment he was back to thinking that it actually did have something to do with Joseph Cooper. But even so, he turned around and told Anita that she’d be better off calling the local cops. Something told him that they needed back up.

The first thing he noticed when he approached the entranceway of the house was the doorframe. Martin wouldn’t have noticed it if Anita hadn’t said there were signs of forced entry; the markings left behind were so subtle that they looked like they could have been from regular use. With a closer look, it seemed something was pressed against the frame. In addition, the door wasn’t even closed. Something was wedged between the door and the door frame; a small piece of wood. It was left in such a way that it could have been simply pushed open from the other side without even touching the handle. He understood this as a prepared escape route for the intruders.

Martin felt a spike of unease. There was still someone in the house, he was sure of it. But while his mind tugged him to tell Anita to stay outside, his heart told him that she would be safer if she stayed close to him.

Martin decided to follow his gut instinct. He cocked his head towards Anita when he opened the door and pulled her along with him when he went inside.

The door opened, pouring a trickle of light into the darkness of the house. Martin stood in the doorway with Anita at his side, scanning the entrance room in the minimal light. It was much grander inside than outside. And the outside was pretty attractive by itself. Martin assumed there weren’t any immediate threats.

Martin pulled the door shut behind him and Anita, locking them in darkness. He was hesitant to turn the lights on, but he knew that because he was unfamiliar with the place and didn’t have the proper equipment, they would need to be turned on.

“You don’t want me to stay outside?” She asked.

“Shhh,” Martin was tempted to lift a finger to his lips, but he knew Anita couldn’t see the gesture. “We need light. Where’s the switch?” He stepped away from her to start running his hands along the nearby wall, when a bright light, that wasn’t the house’s lights, revealed the room to them.

Anita had retrieved her smartphone and used the handy flashlight feature to provide them with light. Not only would they be able to control where and when they had light, but they also wouldn’t need to worry about intruders seeing the light.

“Good thinking,” Martin said, moving away from the wall to scan over their path options. The entranceway split off in three different ways; left or right into two different side rooms, or they could move forward and head onto the next floor. Martin figured it would be best to follow protocol and clear one floor at a time, so he turned left, with Anita following behind him, providing light.

He felt bad about keeping Anita in the dark about his feelings regarding the situation. Anyone would appreciate knowing that their housebreak was caused by a high-profile FBI case. He’d mention it to her later. Informing her while they were in the process of clearing the house would only freak her out more. Even the smallest mistake could cost them dearly.

Martin was sure that the intruder, if any, already knew they were here. Were they waiting for them to approach, or had their entry been enough to alert them? He thought back to his first impression of the house, where he wondered why the drapes to such a home were closed. If the intruders were waiting for them, it might have something to do with that.

The room they turned into wasn’t the kitchen or the living room, as Martin expected it to be. He stopped at the entrance to the room, staring at the walls that were lit by Anita’s phone. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. On the walls, there were gorgeous paintings that didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason to them. Some were portraits, others were landscapes, and there were some, of household objects. Beneath each painting- there were eight throughout the room, Martin counted- there was a short pedestal, holding a silver tray. He couldn’t tell what was on each of them, but it seemed to be something different for each one.

Seeming to sense his confusion, Anita cocked her head to him with a smile. “I collect art. This is only one of my collections.”

He said nothing but scanned the room once more before moving deeper into the house. Martin didn’t know what to expect in the next room.

Anita was good with the light and seemed to have it beaming where he was most naturally going to look for the next. They wandered into the next room, but Martin wasn’t sure what to classify it as. The walls were lined with bookshelves that didn’t hold any literature, but instead various little knick-knacks. He didn’t want to ask.

What was important, however, was that behind the sofas and chairs, decorating the room, there was no one trying to sneak upon them. He turned from Anita and moved toward the window, which he only noticed because the tiniest streak of light shone between the drapes. He gripped the edge of the dark blue curtains and pulled them wide; both of them squinted in the sudden light.

Martin turned back to face Anita, but she was already looking at the far wall. On that wall, unlike all the others, there was a large bookcase made entirely of glass. While the cabinet itself was undamaged, the porcelain dolls that once decorated the shelves now lay in ruins. Chunks of shattered porcelain littered the carpet and some areas of the shelves, though most of the bodies of the destroyed dolls were in a pile on the floor.

When Anita took in the sight, she couldn’t help but suck in a breath of horror, and all she could do to stop herself from screaming was placing a hand on her mouth. The dolls she’d been collecting were easily worth thousands; why would someone destroy them rather than steal them? She was heartbroken to no longer possess them, and she couldn’t restrain the tears that leaked from her eyes.

“Who would do such a thing…?” She asked, not expecting an answer. Martin didn’t have one for her anyway.

Martin wasn’t as certain of the value of the dolls as Anita was. He did think it strange for the intruder to go out of his way to destroy them rather than steal them. If Martin was correct and whoever had been here was looking for something, he believed they might have been trying to be thorough. But who would hide anything inside a doll? Well, Martin supposed it mattered little. They still had the rest of the house to search.

“Alright, we’ll circle around the rest of the floor and head upstairs. I don’t think we’re going to run into any trouble, but let’s be certain we don’t miss anything,” Martín said. Anita nodded in response. Quiet tears still leaked from her eyes, but she wiped them away when he moved ahead of her.

They moved through the house without incident, using the light from Anita’s phone to guide them. In each new room they entered, they stopped to examine the damage. While the destroyed dolls were by far the worst, Martin often saw Anita shaking her head in disappointment. Well, he figured it was some variation of disappointment or anger. If someone broke into his home and did this much damage, he would be furious. Martin unsheathed his Colt .45 and came into his elements just like a cop would.

They passed through the living room and various other rooms before they found the kitchen. As he’d never been particularly wealthy, he’d always been content with his five-room home. 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, a drawing hall and a bathroom were all one needed to lead a good life. He never quite understood the need to have rooms dedicated to singular activities.

They reached the kitchen; Martin was glad to have been right. Once they passed the room with the first window, there had been nothing for them to worry about. He pulled the kitchen curtains wide as they passed, moving toward the stairs that could be seen from where they walked. The easy part was done.

Anita remained roughly in the same position behind him as he moved toward the stairs, taking careful strides up the carpeted steps. Martin was sure that they would creak on the way up but was impressed by the craftsmanship when they reached the top without making a sound.

They were at the top of the stairs when Martin suddenly saw movement on the other end of the small, open area at the top. Recognizing the threat, he grabbed Anita and threw themselves to the ground, a move that would have worked better on a flat ground; they both tumbled back down the stairs with the force of Martin’s movements. The only reason they didn’t, however, was because of Anita’s resistance. Though it saved them a bit of time, it proved to be fatal. She fought against him up until the moment the gunshot rang out through the home, but the fight in her died at that instance. She went limp like a mannequin and allowed Martin to direct her without further complaint.

Martin, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate. The second he secured them both on the ground, he fired in the direction that he’d seen the gun light up. Though it was dark and he couldn’t quite see where he’d shot, Martin’s efforts were rewarded by a grunt of pain when his bullet met his mark. Anita didn’t take the gunfire with such grace and screamed the second she registered the sound of the second bullet. Martin did what he could to protect her and keep her calm. But defeating the enemy was his highest priority.