Chapter 1

Blackout

“You heard about the accident, right?”

Maria Lopez shakes uncontrollably in her chair. A Kleenex clasped tightly in her hands. Soaked from both tears and the sweat from her clammy hands. More nervous than she’s ever been before. Showing vulnerability is not a trait known to her. It’s not like Maria to seek help for personal issues, but these issues don’t pertain to her. These issue lies with her son.

Across from Maria sits Norman Maxwell. His makeshift desk and small room work as his current office. A humble setting for a powerful individual. Norman has already made an impact with his client base who seek his specialized treatments. I mean, who wouldn’t? If there were a cure for an ailment and all it took was a simply procedure, albeit experimental, would you not try?

“I’m sorry. Of course you knew. Well, my son was the driver.” Maria answers her own question. She takes the Kleenex and blows the remnants from her nose.

Norman leans close and observes the lady who sits across from him. Underneath the tears and running snot is a beautiful woman. A woman desperately seeking help for her distraught son.

“I heard. Tragic. How is he dealing with it?” Norman responds.

“Not good. Not good at all. He has spoken since the charges were laid.” Maria says, as she bursts into another crying fit.

Royce is her only child, and if it weren’t for his deadbeat father, he would have never been in the car in the first place. The events that transpired that night still haunt Maria to the bone. As if she could have stepped in and stopped it from happening. There was no use. Her ex-husband was far too strong for her to handle.

The years of abuse took its toll on Royce, and it showed. The more the yelling and arguing took place, the more internal Royce became. The fire brewed inside of him. Royce was strong, not headstrong, but physically strong. It was like he would disconnect and push his body to the limit. Maria knew it, and that worried her. She knew Royce had the strength to take on his father, and she wanted to prevent that with every ounce of her being.

The news of the tragic accident had hit Maria hard. She knew with their background there was no way Royce would get off. He was going to go away for a long time. There was no way to protect him this time. And her ex-husband left unscathed. Untouched. Unaffected.

When Maria arrive at the scene, her son was covered in blood. Not his. Most likely from the body that lied under the black bag. His face was emotionless. Eyes wouldn’t even blink. Just concentrated on what was in front of him. When Maria faced him, his eyes would pierce right through her. She tried to get him to speak. She embraced him in her arms, but nothing worked. He would never speak again.

“What were the charges?”

“They were reduced to vehicular manslaughter. Apparently they found a note at the victim’s house and he was contemplating suicide.” Maria responds.

“That’s good.”

“Maybe. If charged as a misdemeanor, sure. But if convicted as a felony, I may never see my son again. He’s the only thing I have left.” Maria says, as she shoves the soggy Kleenex back into her hands.

“I’m sorry this is happening, Maria. I really am. But, I don’t really see how I can help.” Norman responds, unsure how his words might impact Maria.

“I read your add. You’re looking for volunteers on memory recollection.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I was wondering if you had the ability to block certain memories? Like, blackout bad ones.” Maria asks.

Norman’s concerned turns to a sly. The thought of creating something so particular intrigued him. The ability to block out bad memories would take some work. Where do you start? How can you trick your hippocampus to ignore those memories? How will it judge a memory on whether it’s bad? You would somehow have to break the chain from the hippocampus to the particular cell carrying the specific bad memory. All of these thoughts flooding Norman’s mind. And he loves every moment of it.

“It’s not something I have, Maria…” Norman pauses as he watches the hope flee from her face, “but, if you give me some time, I might be able to create it.”

The hope is restored on Maria. The tears stop. The nose no longer runs. Happiness fills her. If she can’t see her son anymore, she at least wants him to not be plagued by such bad memories.

* * * * * * *

It’s been a long month.

In between trial dates and witness reports, the charges against Royce seem to be dragging out forever. The fact that he doesn’t speak in the courtroom, or to the lawyer, is making the situation worse for himself. His defense is trying for involuntary, while the prosecution wants the book thrown at young Royce with a voluntary manslaughter charge.

When the phone rang, Maria was lost for words hearing Norman on the other end saying he found a way to block out the memories. The few days wait until their appointment was killing her. Soon her son would have to ability to forget all the bad things that have happened in his life. Finally, there is way to provide a level of innocence.

Maria guides Royce down the long corridor with Norman leading. A warmness fills her heart. They pass room after room, each with a different test currently being done. Norman is a busy man, she thinks to herself. They stop at the second last door from the right. A simple door with no labels and no numbers. Norman leads them in. 

The light sounds of moaning coming from the last door on the right. Norman, embarrassed, guides the mother and son into the room with a more eager pace. Normally, sounds like that would give Maria a red flag, but she is far too excited for the procedure.

“The procedure will be short. It’s a quick incision through the temple. I will use this rod to bypass meningeal artery.. If a laceration were… the end result might be an epidural hematoma...” Norman starts.

Maria looks over the small chip contain in Norman’s hand. Something so small can give her son some peace. The rest of Norman’s words fall on deaf ears. The dangers of the surgery weigh far less than the risk.

“And it will work?” Maria says, cutting off Norman’s speech.

“Well, this is strictly testing. I built what you wanted, and this is the prototype. Once attached, it should block out any bad memories.”

“And will he talk?” Maria asks hopefully.

“That’s up to him, Maria.” Norman responds, as he motions for Royce to take a seat.

Royce moves toward the small stainless steel table. A folded gown rests on top. An encompassing overhead light shines down over the table. Royce unfolds the gown and looks it over. A moment of panic comes over him. His breath broken and heavy. A sense of worry fills his face.

Maria rushes to her sons aid. She places her hands on his shoulders then the sides of his face. She looks him straight in the eye and reassures him that everything will be okay. She tells him how Norman is there to help both of them. That Norman is not like the other men in their lives. That for once, Royce can finally start to live a normal life.

Royce’s breath calms. Maria has always known how to calm her son. Royce removes his shirt, lowers his pants, and throws the gown on. He slides himself up onto the cold steel bed. He lies back and stares up to the blinding light. He closes his eyes and tries to breath in a more methodical manner.

Norman steps to a small sink in the corner of the tiny surgical room. He scrubs a bar of soap over his hands. Rinse. Repeat. He watches the young family in the mirror, as Maria stands over her young son. A small part of him wonders what this invention might bring, what hurt might be caused, but the scientist side of him doesn’t care. He wants to know the results. Good or bad.

“May I ask a question?” Norman says, while still watching their interaction.

“Yes, of course.” Maria responds.

“Royce is, well, a different name. Is there a story as to how you named him?”

“His father’s father was a Royce. They both wanted to make sure he strayed away from my heritage. His Grandpa thought I was inferior, and would keep the boy down.” Maria says, without taking her eyes off of her son.

“Sounds like quite the family.”

“That’s why we’re back to my maiden name. If Royce wanted to change his first name, I would let him.”

Norman turns back to the family. His hands covered with latex gloves. A mask covering the lower half of his face. Ready for the next step.

“Maybe you should wait outside.” Norman says muffled through the mask.

* * * * * * *

Maria paces back and forth outside of the room. The moans from the next door still protruding through. Her imagination runs wild with what could be behind that door. Who else has sought out help from Norman. Maria steps closer. The moans grow louder and louder. About to place her ear against the door, but the door to Royce’s room opens startling Maria back. She takes a moment to gather herself.

“He’s ready. Everything was a success.” Norman responds. His masked lowered and resting in between his chin and neck.

“How is he?” Maria says as she steps to the door.

“He’s awake and wants to see his mom.”

Norman steps out of the door frame.

Maria steps into the room.

Royce sits straight up on the stainless steel bed. His attention turns toward his mother. A smile forms. A small piece of bandage covers his temple, but otherwise no sign of any kind of surgery. He lowers himself from the table, walks toward his mother, and hugs her.

“Royce. How are you feeling?” Maria says, knowing, but hoping he has the ability to respond to her.

“Better. I feel better.” Royce responds.

Maria lights up. The first time she has heard his voice in years. So soft. So sweet. It’s a sounds she hopes to hear for the rest of her life. She closes her eyes and embraces her son.

Norman closes the door to let them have their moment.

* * * * * * *

Royce has gotten used to the idea of no recollection of the bad times. He now is able to work with a semi-clear conscious while he awaits sentencing for something he doesn’t remember doing.

On the construction site, Royce works hard. Strong for someone his size. Other workers wondering how he’s able to accomplish so much with such a small frame. Lifting heavier and larger quantities of pipe around the site.

Sometimes his co-workers toss insults his way, but that’s the way of the site. Everyone takes flak for anything. Whether you bring a coffee back in a pink cup to keeping your hair longer than a male should, they have an insult for everyone.

It doesn’t bother Royce, for the most part.

That is, until Sadie started on site. The owner’s stepdaughter who wants to work her way up the ladder in the footsteps of her stepfather. But not everyone likes having a spy on site twenty-four seven.

The jokes were mostly innocent at first, making kissy noises after she would pass. Others would hump the air, pretending she was on the receiving end of it. If she was speaking with someone, another individual would step up behind and make sexual motions behind her.

But Sadie had the ability to ignore the men. And with her work ethic and maturity, she quickly rose up the ladder to site super. Now all of these men who once made small, feeble jokes at her expense were now either groveling at her feet when she was around to wishing she’d drop dead when she would walk away.

Royce treated her differently. Not because she was the boss’s step-daughter and not because she was a female. He treated her the way he treated everyone on site. She was just another employee.

Sadie knew that. She always had a soft spot for him. Although not overly ambition for promotions. Royce was the hardest worker on site. He was content with doing his job and going home.

It didn’t take long for Royce to grow feelings for Sadie. He had a respect for her. The way she dealt with problems, never seemed stressed, and talked to him like he was a normal human being. Even though she already knew about his past.

Everyone knew about his past.

The other workers quickly noticed their blooming relationship. The razzing quickly grew to more extreme pranks. Then onto physical abuse. Royce would be pushed, tripped, or kicked while trying to get his work done. Royce would continue to ignore them.

Sometimes Sadie would catch a worker hassling Royce and she would break it up, but it only exacerbating things for Royce.

Everything escalated to a tipping point on Friday after work, when a couple of the workers had sneaked a case a beer on site. Royce was the first to find the three workers huddled in a group by an empty elevator shaft. One worker was already pissing down into the darkness.

When Royce approached the leader of the group stepped up. Phil, who was the oldest of the group, stood, wobbled a bit, then walked toward Royce. A beer clasped in his hands.

“You don’t see nuttin’, you hear me.” Phil quips.

Sadie approaches while putting her coat on. She doesn’t notice the men at first.

“Ready, Royce?” Sadie says, but her words cut short when her eyes land on the drunk workers.

“Royce? You banging the boss?” Phil says with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut it.” Royce responds. Fist clenched.

“Ah, the mute speaks.”

Sadie tries to walk passed, but she is stopped by Phil. Which, in turn, causes Royce to step in front of Phil.

Phil smiles his yellowed teeth to Royce. The smell of stale smoke and fermented hops fills Royce’s nostrils. He looks away in disgust.

“I can’t lose my job, Phil.” A voice calls out from behind.

“We ain’t going to lose out jobs. Isn’t that right, Sadie? You’re going to forget all about this. Right?” Phil says, as he steps forward with a more threatening presence.

Royce cuts in and remains in front of Sadie.

“You got something to say?” Phil asks, moving his face within inches of Royce’s face.

The putrid smell more predominant than before.

“I think you should leave.” Royce finally musters out.

Phil smiles. He turns back to his small gang and chuckles. No one is going to tell him what to do. Especially a soon-to-be criminal who is trying to date the boss’s daughter.

Phil turns and presses both hands against Royce’s chest and pushes him backward. The impact causes Royce to plough into Sadie. She falls back and smacks her head on the hard concrete.

Royce turns to her, but a fist connects with the right side of his face…

BLACKOUT

Royce stands in the same spot. His hand gripping a steel pipe. From his waist up his torso soaked with blood. Not his. It takes a moment for Royce to realize that time has moved forward. a light whimpering coming from behind him breaks him from his shock. He drops the pipe.

On the ground behind is Sadie. She clings to a beam a few feet away. No external injuries, just traumatic images from what she just witnessed.

Royce takes a step toward her, but she quickly moves away. He stops in his tracks. He follows her line of sight behind him.

The co-worker who was pissing down the elevator shaft lies unconscious on the ground face first in the remnants of his urine dribble. A cracked skulls with bone fragments piled beside. The blood has pooled and mixed with whatever remaining urine. His body twitches.

The other one remains pinned against the wall. Conscious, yet highly disturbed. One eye bloody and shut. Teeth chipped and broken. His left leg contorted into three different directions. At least two broken bones. If he could get up and run right now, he would. He would run as if his life depended upon it. His left arm broken backwards at the elbow. Fingers broken and mangled.

Royce looks around for Phil, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He turns to Sadie. “Where is Phil?” His voice cracking indicating that he doesn’t really want to know.

Sadie doesn’t respond. She just sticks out her left arm and points to the elevator shaft.

Royce hesitantly steps forward. The darkness of the shaft calling out to him. His breath noticeably broken and loud. He stops at the end. He closes his eyes and prays to whichever God is listening that Phil isn’t at the bottom. But no God was listening, and Royce opens his eyes to the sight at the bottom.

Unrecognizable, Phil’s contorted, distorted body lies in what appears to be pieces. It will be discovered later that he is still in one piece, but from a distance, he looks to be broken apart. Bones sticking through skin. Blood pooling at the bottom. His eyes staring up at Royce as if he left them open just for him. It’s like every little joke, prick, or prank intensified into one final moment of anger. And Royce didn’t remember a moment of it.

* * * * * * * *

After months of hiding, Royce wanted nothing more than to return to his normal life. His mother was looking for him. The police were looking for him. Even the FBI were looking for him. But he could never return.

He would mail a letter to his mother whenever he was in a new town or city. He could never remain one place at a time. Being the strong young man he was, he could do odd jobs and make cash.

He would linger around a library and wait until someone left a computer open. He would quickly search for odd jobs on Craigslist, then quickly scoot out of there. Work for the cash then move onto the next city. His hope was to make enough cash to get out of the country, leave a hint for his mother to find out where he was, and make sure she could get to where he was.

Not quite the life either Maria or him was hoping to have.

Staying in Annis doing a roofing job for cash for a man who just lost two employees. It was hard work, but nothing Royce couldn’t handle. The physical part was the easy part. And his boss was like him. Did his work, paid the bills, fed him, and finished on time. No smart remarks. No excessive questions about Royce’s past. Just get the job done.

Royce has already spent more time in Annis than he should. But the money was good. His boss, Franklin Ross, paid him in cash. He regularly bought Royce lunch, and dinner after the day of work. Good men were hard to find, and Franklin wanted to keep Royce as long as he could.

They frequented a small diner on the outskirts of Annis. Mostly filled with a couple regulars, but sometimes the odd passerby stopped in for some warm food.

A young waitress had growing feelings for Royce, but with everything that has happened, Royce knew to keep a safe distance. He didn’t want any repeats or draw any heat toward his whereabouts.

Franklin and Royce have been there enough now for the waitresses to consider them regulars. It wasn’t that they were there that often, it was just their orders never changed. A black coffee and water, and a grilled chicken burger for Royce. A burger, which was claimed as the best in Annis, and a coke for Franklin. Both orders were brought directly to their table without them even getting an acknowledgement.

Royce was hungry today. Hungrier than normal. It was a rough day, and he deserved the food in front of him.

“Slow down. You need to breathe between bites.” Franklin’s says with a playful laugh.

Royce responds with an open mouth chew. A sound that was like nails on a chalkboard for Franklin.

“Shut it or lose it” Franklin says sternly. Implying he will physically remove the sandwich from Royce’s hands.

Royce’s laugh is cut short by the arrival of the town Sheriff. Royce watches as the Sheriff heads directly to a bar stool to have a seat. Royce doesn’t blink and if someone were watching him, they might think he wasn’t breathing either.

The Sheriff acknowledges the waitress and a coffee is placed right in front of him. He takes a sip and grabs a paper carelessly scattered across the bar.

“You alright?”

The sound of Franklin’s voice snaps Royce from his trance. “Yeah, I’m fine. Got to hit the head.” Royce slides out of the booth and walks toward the back of the diner. He passes the Sheriff who pays no attention to him.

The Sheriff’s eyes remain on the paper, and his hand gripping the steaming coffee mug. His mouth moves as if he’s reading an article out loud.

Royce gets to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. He takes a breath and grabs the edges of the basin. He stares at himself in the mirror. How has it come to this? Life on the run. Nowhere to go. He turns the water on and splashes cold water onto his face. He shuts the water off and lifts his head. A beam of sunlight cross his face. He follows the light to a small window above the toilet stall. He turns to the door and slides a rusted bolt across the door. He opens the stall and climbs onto the dirty porcelain. He unlocks the window and peers outside. After sliding his arms through, a familiar looking vehicle pulls to a stop in front of the building.

A second officer steps out of his vehicle. He has come to meet his co-worker. The flailing arms go unseen by the young officer.

Royce slides himself back into the bathroom.

The door bangs, trying to open. The sounds startles Royce.

“Royce? You in there?” Franklin’s familiar voice calls out from the other side. “Let me in. I got to shit.”

Royce, not wanting anymore attention, heads to the door. He unlocks it.

Franklin rushes in and heads right to the stall. “Jesus, man. Why you locking yourself in here?”

Royce peers out into the diner. Two more officers are now around the Sheriff. One officer looks toward Royce. He shuts the door and locks it again.

“You gotta stop running, man.” Franklin says.

“What?”

“I called them. You’re a hard working, good kid. I can vouch for your behavior.” Franklin says, as he opens the stall.

“I can’t. I can’t go away. I just want to go home.”

“It’s too late for you to go home.”

A knock on the door disturbs their conversation.

Royce looks to the door then back to Franklin. His breath becoming more broken and sporadic. He reaches to the wall to gain himself. He tries to think, but his thoughts become foggy and bleak.

“Anyone in there?” A voice calls out from the other side of the door.

“I have to get home.” Royce responds to Franklin.

Franklin steps forward. A look of sympathy crossing his face. “It’s over, Royce. Give up.”

A bang on the door as an officer slams himself trying to open it.

Royce can no longer control his breath…

BLACKOUT

Sirens cry out.

Royce sits behind the wheel of the cruiser. His stunned expression looks around the car in shock. How did he get here? Where is everyone? His hands fall from the wheel, as he struggles to figure out the past events. He grabs the wheel when the cruiser starts to swerve.

Royce looks to the mirror and watches flames leading up to the sky from the diner. The whole restaurant burns in the distance. A few people have crowded around to watch.

Fire trucks blare passed Royce heading toward the blaze.

A stinging pain takes Royce’s eyes off of the mirror and to his shoulder instead. A line of blood streams down his shoulder. His shirt soaked with blood. This time, his blood. A bullet hole right through his shoulder. His eyes quickly scan the rest of his upper body for any sign of more injuries, but finds nothing. Just the gaping hole in his shoulder.

Royce reaches around the dash and finds the sirens to the cruiser. He shuts them off and turns the car down the next road trying to get off of the main road.

Royce pulls the car into an alley and slides out onto the ground. The pain shooting through down his arm. He rips material from the bottom of his shirt and wraps it around the wound.

Sirens pass the alley.

Royce watches two police cars pass. He jumps to his feet and disappears in between two houses.

* * * * * * * *

Maria has always waited for her sons return. The letters weren’t enough. She wanted to see him. Hear him. She wanted to know he was safe.

Since the construction site attack, Maria’s life hasn’t been easy. She hit rock bottom. Lost her son, her job, and almost losing the roof over her head. That is, until she let Royce’s father move back in. It was something she swore she would never do, but without him, she would be homeless. It’s only for a little while. At least, that’s what she tells herself.

It’s become harder and harder for her to look at herself in the mirror, not just because of her poor choices, but the constant swelling of her eyes makes it physically hard for her to see.

The shower steams the mirror blocking out her reflection. Good. A hand reaches out from the shower for soap. Maria moves away from the hand’s reach.

If Maria had the ability to cry, she would.

A band on the front door breaks her depressive state. She walks to the front door with hesitant steps. It’s too late for visitors. Maria peers through the peephole onto the fisheye world, but nothing out of the ordinary on the other side. She turns away from the door as another bang startles her. She takes a breath and gains the courage to look again. Still nothing on the other side.

Another bang.

Maria reaches for the handle and slowly pulls the door open.

Royce’s upper torso falls into the room. Semi-conscious. Royce has lost too much blood.

Maria cries out for her injured son. She grabs him and holds him in her arms.

Blood soaking through the makeshift bandage over his shoulder. His skin pale. Muscles weak. He looks up to his mother with a hopeful smile. Maybe now he can be at peace.

“We need to get you to a hospital.” Maria cries.

Royce shakes his head. He knows this is the end of the line. Even if he were to go to the hospital and survive, he would die alone in prison. Too many lives have been lost by his hands.

Royce’s smile soon fades. The bruises on his mother’s face are easy to see through the darkness. The moon’s glow highlights the purple around her eyes.

Royce finds any remaining energy and lifts himself up. He staggers to his feet. He places his back against wall for support. His breath fleeting.

Maria steps to him. Her hands extended to him. In part asking for forgiveness, and part wanting her son to stay calm. “Please, Royce. You have to get help.”

The shower stops.

Royce never noticed the sound of the running water, but he now notices the silence. Royce looks to the bathroom. Fists clenched. “He’s here? Right now?” Royce says through locked jaw. Royce throws himself off of the wall. He wobbles back and forth as he stands in place.

“Please. Don’t go over there. You’re too hurt.”

Royce knows this will be his final moment. Everything that has culminated is reaching its breaking point. No longer can he cause his mother pain. Everything she did was for him. Protected him. SHe just wanted him to be happy.

And now, it’s time to return the favor. He knows his mother would be better without the men in her life. One creating a physical pain, and the other an emotional pain of loss. But tonight, that ends.

Maria’s ex-husband, Royce’s father, steps out into the room. The same shit eating grin spread across his face. The same grin Royce has always seen.

Royce can’t remember the moments of physical pain caused by his father. But still, an undying burning of hatred inside. His breath broken and staggered. Every remaining ounce of energy builds. His fist clenched so tight that his knuckles are turning white.

“What are you going to do?” His father asks. Not releasing those six words would be his last. He could have tried to seek forgiveness for all his wrongdoings. For treating his wife and son like punching bags. But, he chose to use his usual tone.

His father steps toward him.

Royce is ready.

BLACKOUT

The blinding light above wakes Royce from his unconscious state. He moves his arms across the cold stainless steel. A pain rushes to his right temple. He raises his hand and touches the side of his head. His fingers gently touch the blood soaked bandage. He feels… at peace. He looks around the room for any signs of familiarity, but everything looks the same as before his surgery.

“He’s awake and wants to see his mom.” Norman says from behind Royce.

Royce turns his head and watches Norman moves out of the way for Maria. He lifts himself up and sits on the edge of the table.

Maria enters the room.

Royce sits straight up on the stainless steel bed. His attention turns toward his mother. A smile forms. He tries to think back to anything before this. A feeling of calm, happy moments flood his brain.

“Royce. How are you feeling?” Maria says, knowing he won’t, but hoping he has the ability to respond to her.

“Better. I feel better.” Royce responds.

Maria smiles at Royce.

Royce, for the first time in a long time, feels like everything is going to be okay. Because at this moment, he can’t remember anything bad in his life.