Lucky Number 5000

Liam

Prologue

The wind howled, swirling over the mountaintops before funneling down into the valley and rattling the Lockwood family’s Volkswagen. Wet snow pounded onto the windshield, and despite the blurring wiper’s best effort, a white blanket reduced their visibility to only a few feet.

If Liam hadn’t been so entranced with his first cell phone, he might’ve noticed the danger raging all around him. His father’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel didn’t even register in his head as something to be nervous about. He was so lost in his own world that he didn’t even question his mother’s rare silence.

Unlike him, his rambunctious older twins, David and Molly, sensed the tension in the car. Instead of fighting with each other like they normally did, the twins sat in silence, the epitome of well-behaved teenagers.

But Liam noticed none of this. No, all he cared about was the brand-new Motorola Razor tucked tantalizingly away in a box he couldn’t open without a pair of scissors. The teeth and claw marks covering the box confirmed its impenetrability. Even though the box was mangled and full of spit as if a Rottweiler had gotten a hold of it, he stroked it lovingly with his finger.

Ever since the twins had received their first cellphone two years ago, he’d almost died of jealously. They’d teased and taunted him with something just beyond his reach for years, nearly driving him mad, but today that all changed. Today, he’d officially join the ranks of the other popular kids in school who paraded around the hallways flashing their phones at anyone who’d spare them a glance.

Oblivious to their precarious situation, he cut through the anxious silence with a sharp chuckle. “Now that I have a phone, Mom, you can’t yell at me from downstairs anymore.”

As if she’d been waiting for a distraction, his mother turned around with a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, I have news for you, buddy. I enjoy yelling in my house. It gets my point across in a way that texts can’t.”

The heaviness in the car lifted, and the twins jumped at the chance to exert their older sibling dominance.

“I know it’s his birthday and all, but are we honestly supposed to sit here and ignore reality?” Molly asked with a grimace. She fiddled with her oversized glasses, more a nervous tic than an actual need to adjust them.

David nodded along with their sister, taking his twin’s side over Liam’s, just like he always did. The twins acted like arch enemies most of the time, but attack one of them and the other would snap at you like a rabid dog. “It’s not just his birthday! Maybe an evil spirit has possessed him? They always say the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest during Halloween.”

Liam tore his gaze away from his prized box and shot the twins a nasty glare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Damn his siblings for always ruining his moments!

In the driver’s seat, his father continued to focus on the icy roads, but the smallest twitch of his lips let everyone know he was listening to their usual bickering.

Molly sniffed at him with an upturned nose, suggesting she found arguing with a simpleton like him bothersome. “He means the obvious, Liam. You have like three friends and none of them have cell phones.”

Liam growled as Molly threw around false accusations. He wanted to retaliate with a witty comeback. Something to wipe the smirk off her face. But he’d learned long ago never to challenge his sister to a battle of wits.

His brother’s accompanying snicker presented him with a tactical retreat, and he jumped at the low-hanging fruit. “Shut up, David! You hardly text at all since Jessica broke up with you.”

A glorious feeling of victory rushed through him as David’s laughter broke off in an indignant yelp.

Red-faced and stuttering, his brother tried to mount his comeback. “Yeah, well…at least I’ve had a girlfriend, buttmunch.”

“I don’t even want one, dummy!”

At twelve years old, he had enough problems to worry about without adding in the extra complications that girls brought with them. Maybe in a few years he’d feel differently.

David certainly hadn’t wasted any time since he’d turned fourteen. One day, his brother was as normal as any big brother could be, and the next, everything he did or thought about revolved around girls. It was exhausting, to be honest.

Realizing Liam had zero interest in a girlfriend, his brother switched his tactics. “You don’t even need a phone, Liam. It’ll just sit in your room collecting dust as you wait for no one to call you.”

“Oh yeah! Just you wait. I’m going to be so popular that my phone won’t even be able to store all of my contacts.”

Molly removed her glasses with a disappointed sigh, wiping at nonexistent smudges with her shirt. “Both of you are a step above the janitor but below the lunch lady in terms of popularity. I’d be shocked if you convinced ten people to give you their number, Liam.”

His face flamed beneath his sister’s calm insults. He knew he wasn’t the most popular kid in school, but dammit, he couldn’t let her walk all over him like this.

“Ten?” He threw back his head, and a chilling laugh echoed throughout the car. “I’m going to get hundreds of numbers. Maybe even thousands! In fact...” He glanced at his family’s knowing smiles and hoped he wouldn’t regret this bold statement.

Screw it! His dreams had to be great if he wanted to achieve greatness. “I’m going to get 5000 numbers!”

David barked out a laugh while elbowing Molly in the ribs. “Yeah, maybe if you begged on the internet. I heard there are plenty of lonely men online. I’m sure they’ll give you their numbers in a heartbeat.”

Whatever the joke was, it flew right over Liam’s head. His mother didn’t let him spend time on the internet by himself, but judging by her narrowing eyes, the joke must not have been that funny.

“I won’t have to beg anyone!” he snapped, refusing to take the perceived insult lying down. “People will trip over themselves to become one of the lucky 5000. And when I get the last number, you all have to apologize to me…in writing!”

There, that ought to shut his brother up, but he couldn’t resist giving one last jab. “I don’t even need your number, David. If I still even want it at that point, you can be number 5001.”

Enraged by his taunting, David resorted to the one area Liam couldn’t hope to compete in. The shove slammed him against the car door. Not one to take bullying lightly, Liam retaliated with a well place punch to his brother’s ribcage. An outraged squeal nearly busted Liam’s eardrums as David reared back from the blow, smacking into Molly in the process.

And then, all hell broke loose: Molly pinched and clawed at David like a feral cat, David put Liam in a headlock, and Liam threw wild punches, landing several on both his siblings. The chaos inside the Volkswagen rivaled the ferocious storm outside, both competing to see which could cause more destruction.

Despite the tornado in the backseat, his father ignored all of it, keeping his eyes planted on the road. However, his mother whipped around, a furious snarl marring her face. “That’s enough! Don’t you dare distract your father in this storm.”

The rage in her eyes promised punishments he couldn’t even imagine, and all three of the Lockwood children shuddered beneath her glare.

“But Mom,” he screamed, slipping out of David’s headlock and attempting to get the first defense in. “They said—”

“I don’t care what they said, Liam. Your father needs to focus on the road.” And then she came down with the hammer. “If you don’t settle down, we’ll go straight back to the store and return that damn phone. Am I understood?”

Any and all fight left him in an instant. He cradled the box defensively in his lap, hoping that by hiding it from view, his mother would forget all about it. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“And as for you two.” His mother switched her ire to the twins, who flinched as her gaze landed on them. “Can you go one minute without picking on your brother? It’s his birthday, for heaven’s sake. You’d think for just one day we could all love each other without the extra drama.”

The heavy silence returned to the car as his mother finished her tirade. Throughout the scolding, his father never spoke a word. In fact, his squinted eyes and the tightness around his lips made it seem like he’d barely heard the commotion at all.

Not one to test his mother’s patience, Liam stared out the window in silence until he felt David tapping him on the leg. Intent on ignoring him, he brushed his brother’s hand away. No chance was he going to let David get him into trouble. It was his phone at stake after all.

The tapping on his leg continued until he just couldn’t take it anymore. One tap away from blowing a fuse, he shot his brother a glare, imitating the look their mother had just given them. To his surprise, his brother ignored the glare and held his hand out to him.

With a sigh, he shook his brother’s hand. He didn’t forgive him. Not even close. But he’d said some mean things to David as well, so maybe calling a truce was for the best. At least until they got home. Then, it was back to all-out warfare.

Turns out, his brother didn’t want to shake his hand at all. Instead, David rolled his eyes and gestured to the box in his hand. Out of nowhere, a pocketknife appeared in David’s hand with a soft click. The sharp blade made the hair rise on the back of his neck, and he hugged the box protectively to his chest.

It was a trap. It had to be. His brother didn’t do things to be nice. Not since he became a teenager, at least.

Just as he was about to turn away, he glanced at David’s face, and even he could see the sincerity in his brother’s eyes. Carefully, like a stranger feeding a stray dog, he handed the box over to his brother, waiting for the trap to spring.

But David didn’t play any pranks. He didn’t throw the box to the ground or stab into it with his knife. Instead, he carefully sliced open the plastic and pulled out a sleek black cell phone. When he powered on the phone and a high-pitched chime rang out, Liam gasped in delight.

Before his most prized possession could slip from his fingers, he hurriedly wiped his clammy palms against his pants. With the speed of a snail, David held out the phone to him with a sheepish grin. “Happy birthday, Liam.”

After he’d plucked the phone from his brother’s hand in a blur, he held it above his head like Simba in The Lion King. Somewhere in the distance, drums thundered in celebration of this life-changing moment.

Straight away, he navigated to his contacts folder. No Contacts.

A simple phrase, but one that infuriated him. First up were his parents. In anticipation of this exact moment, he had memorized their numbers weeks ago. When he finished typing in their information, they became numbers one and two in his long journey to 5000.

Excited at his progress but far from satisfied, he hesitated before nudging David and shoving his phone into his brother’s lap. With a sigh, David typed in his number as Liam hovered anxiously nearby.

When his brother finished adding another contact to his growing collection, Liam pointed discreetly at Molly. He’d rather poke a bear than bother his sister when she was in one of her moods, but risks needed to be taken if he was going to reach 5000 numbers. Plus, if she attacked, he’d have plenty of time to escape while she mauled David to death.

A similar thought must have crossed David’s mind because as he tapped Molly on the side, he immediately flinched when she whipped her head around with a growl. His courageous brother held his hands up as if he were attempting to bargain with a demon. When Molly didn’t immediately go for his jugular, he handed her the phone before scooting as far back as he could towards Liam.

Molly rolled her eyes at their antics, but entered her number without a fight. At last, the phone returned to his hands—the only place it belonged—and he inspected his newest contacts with a critical eye. Four down and 4996 to—

A thunderous explosion cracked through the air. The sleek black phone flew from his grasp, but he didn’t even attempt to catch it. No, the heavy-duty truck swerving towards their Volkswagen demanded all of his attention.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Shredded rubber from the blown tire tumbled through the air before zipping out of sight. The horrified screams of his loved ones bombarded him until his mind blessedly went blank. Paralyzed by fear, he watched as his father spun the steering wheel back and forth in a desperate attempt to avoid the collision.

The truck grew larger in his eyes as the screeching of brakes pierced through his mother’s cries. Desperately trying to put even a few inches between herself and the incoming truck, Molly leaned back as far as she could into David’s arms.

But nothing could stop the truck from barreling into the side of their car. The impact slammed his face into his mother’s headrest. Something cracked, and a warm wetness poured over his lips. The world outside transformed into a white blur as their car spun across the icy road.

Suddenly, the tires sliding across the freshly fallen snow dug in and refused to let go. His vision tilted sideways as their car launched into the air like a plastic toy. Upside down, the car seemed to freeze in midair as if a superhero had arrived to save their lives. But as soon as his brain registered the pause, time sped up with a cold-blooded vengeance. The car slammed onto the asphalt before rolling violently amidst the crunching of metal and shattering of glass.

An excruciating pain tore across his face, and on pure instinct, he tried to swat at it. Anything to make the searing agony stop. But to his horror, neither of his arms obeyed his commands; instead, they flopped around limply in front of him like wet noodles.

As the car finally came to a stop, the pungent smell of burning rubber and the chemical stench of gasoline made him gag. Steam hissed from somewhere in front of him, and the methodical dripping of oil grated on his ears. Sounds from every direction, but what he didn’t hear were the cries of his family.

Tears streamed down his face as he screamed for help as loudly as he could. But like a nightmare, no matter how hard he screamed, only a hoarse, strangled whisper passed his lips.

His pathetic cries went unanswered, and as his vision darkened, he spotted his new cellphone, laying in the snow without a single scratch across the shiny casing.

*

Liam took one last look at the graveyard before climbing into the social worker’s beat-up sedan. Hampered by the slings on both his arms, the once simple movement had become a grueling test of willpower.

The stitches running horizontally across his forehead before taking a sharp turn downward toward the corner of his eye and ending halfway down his cheek itched so badly that he wanted to scratch his skin off. Luckily, even weeks after the accident, he still couldn’t raise his arms high enough to reach his face.

As the social worker closed the door behind him, he flinched for a second at his appearance in the window. What stared back at him wasn’t someone he recognized. The grotesque creature in the glass looked like Frankenstein’s monster, an abomination stitched together to give off the appearance of life.

In the distance, what remained of his family’s funeral enraged him even more than his appearance did. Only a few stragglers huddled around the gravestones, whispering to each other with pitiful looks on their faces.

They’d taken time out of their lives to show his family the respect they deserved, but he didn’t care about any of them. Family friends, distant cousins, convenient acquaintances: not a single one of them loved his family like he did.

Unlike him, they wouldn’t think twice about the people buried in this graveyard after a few months. Most importantly, not a single person who offered him their condolences wanted anything to do with him. They didn’t even glance in his direction as the car whisked him out of sight and out of mind.

As the social worker whispered useless platitudes to him, which he promptly ignored, he strained against his slings until the Motorola Razor fell into his lap. Despite his shaking hands, he navigated to his contacts folder. For almost an hour, he stared at the four names. Fate had stolen everything from him before he’d had the chance to call or even text them a single time.

One by one, he slowly deleted the contacts. David–Delete. Molly–Delete. Dad–Delete. Only when he came to his mother’s number did he finally hesitate. Not because he loved her more than his other family members, but because it suddenly hit him she was the last one. Once he deleted her number, he’d truly be all alone in this world.

Despite his best efforts, a sob ripped out of him. Thankfully, the social worker pretended not to hear him and let him cry in peace. As his tears burned the stitches on his left cheek, he pressed the phone against his heart. In a last-ditch effort, he prayed to any god who would listen to bring them back. All of them. Right this instant.

But after a few minutes of silence, he took a shuddering breath and did what had to be done. Mom—Delete.

It took less than a second for the phone to update, and when it finished, the inescapable truth of his life stared back at him. No Contacts.

Softly enough that the social worker couldn’t hear him, he whispered, “5000 to go.”