desperately needed rest but did not look forward to closing his eyes. He had not slept well recently. The dream of Vickie had become more vivid, and he missed her terribly. Additionally, he was not fond of Chuck. Since his departure from the Marine Corps and his arrival home, he dreamed of Chuck more often, and it bothered him.
He sat erect in his chair and began to flip through notes and materials on his desk. He had been researching extensively, and his eyes had tired of staring at the screen. He yawned heartily and gently scratched the back of his head. His eyes were getting heavy, and as badly as he wanted to be champion in this battle, the sleep was going be the victor.
As Sage once again fell victim to the sleep monster, Vickie appeared. Sage was sitting on a blanket in a park. Picnic items decorated the makeshift flooring, but the color of it was fuzzy to him. The grass had no separation from the Technicolor bedspread; they were woven into one continuous sheet. His focus shifted to Vickie. She smiled at him; her smile was his fuel.
People walked about the park noticing Sage and Vickie. Sage and Vickie paid no mind to the people that passed by. As the couple drank wine and ate fruit, Sage put his finger to his ear and rapidly scratched at his ear canal. Vickie put her ear to her shoulder and ground and shook her head back and forth while attempting not to spill her wine. The two of them shared intimate glances, and he moved closer to her. He flirted, and she laughed. They were madly in love. This was evident, and denying it would not be remotely possible. Vickie’s finger was decorated with an ornate engagement ring that sparkled in the light. The size of the ring seemed as though gravity would react differently to it and that her hand would be hard to lift. As Vickie smiled, she put a finger to her ear and attempted to scratch at her ear canal. The briefest of a greenish shimmer appeared around her body, but it was nearly imperceptible.
As they leaned in to steal a kiss, Sage began to close his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Sage caught an ever so brief flash of red—also nearly imperceptible. An unknown figure stepped on to the edge of the blanket and punctured Vickie’s skull at the base, just above her neck. It had been with a sharp instrument that looked similar to an ice pick. Sage felt Vickie’s face smash into his, and he awoke from this nightmare with which he had become all too familiar.
“Vickie…,” moaned Sage.
Chapter 8
Sage, freshly awake from his office slumber, was happy to be out of the nightmare, though it saddened him when he remembered what had happened to Vickie. Sweat beaded lightly on his face, and he wiped it away with his palm. He placed his moistened hand onto the newspaper given to him by Hal. As the sweat soaked in and dampened the paper, Sage noticed the periodical for the first time. Somehow, in his business of researching, he had forgotten it. Now giving notice to the paper and remembering Hal’s words, a review of the article was in order. He smiled to himself. He leafed through the paper with no particular section in mind. He flipped a page, scanned it, then another flip and another scan. After several flips and scans, he reached a page buried in the paper. There was an article about a murder. It seemed familiar, but he could not recall why it possessed a familiarity.
He stared at the photo, pondering, wondering. He shifted in his chair and then trained his focus to a black-and-white photograph of the crime scene. Police tape cordoned the scene, and bystanders gawked. Sage squinted and investigated the picture a bit more closely. Fearing that he was not completely awake, he rubbed his eyes in hopes of clearing them up. He returned to the paper; there was a man in the picture whose eyes seemed to be just a bit off.
His brain began to race, and his heartbeat hastened. Tonight would likely be another long night. Oh, well. Sage returned to his computer screen and started clicking on various web links. He found multiple articles and websites and bookmarked them. Operating a computer and surfing was child play, but his skills could not hold a candle to Parker’s. He returned to an earlier page and compared it to the picture that was in the paper. He had located the same image—but in color. Using his mouse, he scrolled and enlarged the picture so that he could focus on the eyes of the man he saw in the newspaper. While doing so, he remembered the old adage about the “eyes being the window to a soul.” It made more sense to him now. As he focused more intently on the man in the photo, the man appeared to have red-eye.
Sage hit redial on his smartphone. The phone rang a couple of times, and Parker answered.
“Hello…”
“What’s up, bro?” Sage asked. “What did you find?”
Parker’s reply was somewhat sarcastic. “Not much yet. Building a new search engine with parameters on sperm.”
“Cool. Appreciate you, bro,” said Sage.
“Anytime. It’s late…or early—depending on how you look at it. What’s on your mind?” said Parker.
Sage paused and was deliberate in his explanation. “Either I have found something, or I am cracking up.”
“C’mon, man, who you talking to? Lay it on me, but mind the language.”
Sage rustled the newspaper. “My bad. I was going through this paper, and I saw a guy…”
“Guys in a paper. Yup, bro, you’re losing it.” Parker laughed.
“Parker, can you be serious for one second?” said Sage sternly.
“My bad. Go on,” Parker said sheepishly.
Not mentioning the sarcasm in Parker’s voice, Sage continued. “So I noticed this anomaly in the guy’s eyes.”
“An anomaly?” Parker questioned.
“Yes. It was a black-and-white pic, but the eyes were off a bit.”
After a short pause, Parker asked, “Like spaced too far apart or too close…like beady?”
“Wow,” said Sage, somewhat astonished that Parker would make fun of someone’s physiognomy. “Not off in terms of distance.”
“Okay, so we are dealing with a bad pic, in a paper, and the eyes are off,” Parker said.
“That’s just it, the eyes were not off. I think they were on. I’m sending you an e-mail.” Sage hit a few keys on his computer.
“On or off?” Parker asked.
“Just wait for the e-mail,” said Sage.
“Got it.”
“Cool, enlarge it and zoom in,” said Sage.
Parker complied. “Okay, so what’s the big deal?”
“Bro, you don’t see it?”
Parker asked, “See what?”
Sage grunted in frustration. “His eyes.”
Parker said, “Sure, a bit of red-eye. So what? That happens. It depends on the camera, the angle. The person’s retina and so on.”
“Why doesn’t everybody in the picture have it?” questioned Sage.
“As I said, the angle, the retina,” explained Parker.
“You don’t find it strange?” Sage retorted.
“Bro, have you slept?”
Sage was quiet. “A bit. So you’re saying all of this happens based on lighting, retina, etc. Right?”
Parker responded, “Definitely.”
Sage was once again trying to keep his frustration from showing. “Wait just a sec.” Sage used his hand to smooth and flatten the paper and then open camera mode on his smartphone to take a picture of the newspaper and send it to Parker. Parker’s phone beeped indicating the receipt of a message.
“Got it. I see a bit of an anomaly,” said Parker. “Okay, you have my attention.”
There were some computer beeps in the background. Parker had been compiling code in the building of his search engine. Parker mentioned, “Bro, some people