Mindtease

The car, a red subcompact, braked hard, skidded to halt alongside a winding highway. The engine shut off, and the car clicked into park. The driver was a young man, a “college kid” wearing a black T-shirt, long black cutoff pants. Despite his dark brown, almost black hair, piercing blue eyes, thick eyebrows and hirsute arms and legs, the pasty white body gave him the youthful appearance of a kid that avoided the out-of-doors. But looking at the seat next to him, the youth’s wide eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

Glancing up, the youth looked around, thinking, considering. Beside him was a map, and he moved his long, slender fingers gracefully, plotting his path, finding a destination.

Finally, frustration and exhaustion registered, and the youth sat back in the driver’s seat, weary. Looking up, the driver put a pair of sunglasses on, making the youth appear more a tourist than a driver with a final destination.

After a few minutes of rest, the youth furtively searched around, and then started the car. He would find his ultimate destination, even if he did not know it himself...yet. He had to hurry though, for some reason the youth knew he did not have much time...for some reason, some purpose.

Sighing, the youth looked around, adjusted the rearview mirror, started the car, and drove off. The youth would not give up on his quest, and the looming, vague deadline only spurred him into action. He would succeed, he had to, it was life or death...not just for what he was seeking, but for himself.

The youth drove purposefully, navigating the road automatically, focusing on his goal that was a moving target...but he would find it, and had to...soon. The thought impressed the need for urgency, and the youth pushed his black sneaker sheathed foot down on the accelerator, and the car surged forward in a burst of speed.

Time was short, the youth had to hurry to find his rendezvous...with his destiny?

# # #

“Where is he now?” the man in the black suit asked a man in a grey suit. The man in the black suit looked in slight revulsion as the grey-suited man smoked a cigarette nonchalantly while reading a report in a black binder.

“The target?” the grey suit asked without looking up.

“Him” the man in the black suit said for emphasis. “Target, subject...”

“Driving erratically,” the grey-suited man said looking up from the black plastic binder that held the report, briefing, or synopsis.

“Is he drunk, drugged, or psychotic?” the black suited man asked directly. “Meandering around from state to state without any purpose...”

“On the contrary,” the grey-suited man said, closing the black binder, and putting it on the desk in front of him. Searching through the various binders, documents, and folders the grey-suited man found the one he sought, and took it from the desk, opening it, and reading quickly.

“What?” the black suited man asked impatiently. “What is it?”

“Hmmm...” the grey-suited man considered. “The target is behaving erratically and inconsistently, but...”

“But what?” the black suited man demanded.

They grey-suited man picked up a flexible plastic binder with another report nestled within. The title in large type proclaimed “PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS/STRATEGY Case 35798-584 Winters CLASSIFIED” as the content.

The black suited man sighed, impatient but waiting.

“This is conjecture and speculation from several forensic psychiatrists,” the grey-suited man explained, “but it based on the subject’s psychological assessment and evaluation, interviews with other patients, past history...”

“Please,” the black suited man said demandingly, “just the meat and potatoes.”

The grey-suited man sighed, flipping through several pages until he found the correct page.

“The subject is seeking security, emotional stability...”

“By driving all over hell’s half acre?”

“Actually the subject is seeking it, something that is familiar and known but not in the present.”

“Meaning?”

“Something from the past...a person, place to reconnect to and find emotional comfort and security in the familiarity.”

“So that’s what he...the subject is doing?”

“Yes,” the grey-suited man answered. “Seeking that...but it seems unlikely it is a place.”

“I didn’t realize psych-strategy could be so definitive.”

“It can...” the grey-suited man answered firmly, “once all the variables are accounted for. No, if the subject wanted a place he would have gone there directly in a straight line. The subject is seeking something elusive but specific to him. That would have to be a person from the subject’s past that the subject is trying to find using his special ability.”

“Like a moth to a very distant flame.”

“Yes,” the grey-suited man said, “a very specific and special flame. More akin to a salmon finding that one stream...and there is no direct, accessible route to that stream in which it spawned. So the subject is going to meander around. And if the target of the subject’s search is...moving, well then more abrupt, erratic action.”

“We should find anyone from the subject’s past within a specific radius of the subject.”

“Already doing that,” the grey-suited man replied. “Unfortunately the subject has known many individuals that shall we say ‘stay off the radar’ and so are more difficult to locate by electronic means.”

“I see...but the search is ongoing?”

“Yes, and the subject is being monitored by surveillance satellite in a geo-synchronous orbit over that region of the country.”

“How did you manage that?”

The grey-suited man smiled. “Not all the surveillance and reconnaissance satellites that fail to launch, collided with another satellite, or deorbited actually did so.”

The black suited man gave a toothy smile...of a predator. “So we have the subject under continued surveillance?”

“Yes, real time until we determine whom the subject is seeking and finds.”

The grey-suited man laughed, and the black suited man joined in...the game of watching, waiting, and then determining the next step in the process. A typical covert operation...making the plan up as you go.

# # #

The youth slammed the car door, nearly forgetting to lock it, and stood glancing around. The sidewalk was busy with pedestrians and passersby, but standing in his dark clothing, sunglasses, he seemed strangely out of place. He belonged in a park, playing Frisbee, or jogging around.

The youth was focused though on his quest, knowing his goal was close.

Closer still, but yet seemingly far away. The youth sensed he needed to hurry and soon, a feeling of desperation touching the edges of his thoughts.

Sighing he started to walk almost in a random direction, sensing but seeking. He walked purposefully, the emotions he felt growing stronger. The emotions were in flux, he wasn’t sure which emotions were his, a mixture of fear and worry with desperation and determination.

Hurry the youth thought as he strode along the sidewalk, turning a corner, and feeling a stronger wave of feeling.

He was close, very close...but still seemed elusive.

The youth lowered his head, clearing his mind. The frisson shock of emotion hit him, and he felt a strong tug pulling him...in a direction.

He followed it, not knowing but yet knowing he was getting closer to the completion of his quest. Suddenly, he felt fearful, as his search might be over, but what he sought might not be...well he’d deal with that then. Right now he sensed a grim determination, a sense of futility but with purpose.

That worried him, and as he turned corners, walked across crosswalks, he found himself striding with certainty, but yet it was his body that moved, he was only watching.

Focusing on where he was, the youth saw a throng of people milling about in front of a building. Then it struck him.

He could feel it, and now he knew. Moving quickly, the youth walked along the sidewalk, crossing the street, and passing a parking garage, then Japanese restaurant.

Relief...he felt that emotion, a mix of his own, and the grim relief he sensed. A tense, cold feeling of tension…anxiety swelled from within...how would it be?

He had to try, that the youth knew...as he approached a row of benches. Had to try. Now...