Chapter 42
Vintage looked worse than a ghost. It wasn’t from the minor procedure to remove the devices from his head. It was an all-encompassing shock of uncertainty that flooded his every pore. When he had first awoken on this side of the planet, he had a similar sensation, but this was exponentially worse. He thought he was getting his life on track, had so many good friends, had a woman who was amazing beyond words, was learning so much and felt happy, and now this. It cast a shadow over everything. He still didn’t have clear memories of his past. He had vague dreams and flashes of what seemed to be real, but how could he be sure? And now this. Someone obviously had a vested interest in the information he was gathering. Was he a willing accomplice and not know it? Who had done this? Too many questions, and even fewer answers.
“Hey, you’re gonna make it through this. We’re with you, Vintage. I know it’s hard, but we’ll stick with you,” Sophia tried to offer comfort as Ray was driving them back to their house. Vintage didn’t respond. He felt numb. “He’ll be ok, Sophie, just give him time. He needs time,” Ray told her quietly as he peered at his friend in the back seat. When they arrived home and walked in the front door. Well, Vintage more or less glided in subconsciously as he was functioning on cruise control. He did manage to mutter something soft and a bit incoherent, “How do you.” Pause, flinch, stammer. Ray and Sophia put their hands on his sagging shoulders and led him to the sofa. “Know you can trust me?” he asked uncomfortably with remorse in his eyes.
Ray and Sophia looked at each other. Could they trust him? After all they’d been through, they felt confident they could, but there was now a faint doubt cast into their minds. Their intuition, however, led them to believe that their friend was an unwitting character in a grand scheme of ill repute. They couldn’t hold this against him, especially due to his lack of coherent memory. Why didn’t he remember anything personal, but could recall most aspects of his national way of life? It seemed too strange and had to have a nefarious end hidden somewhere. Right now, though, they just wanted to help their friend find answers and deal with this crazy situation.
Sophia put her arm around Vintage and assured, “We trust you, don’t worry. Whoever did this to you is conducting some awful business. We don’t blame you. We want to help you.”
Vintage sobbed and gave a nod of thanks. “I’d like to be alone, if you don’t mind,” he somberly requested as he stared at the floor. “Sure, of course. Get some rest. You know where to find us,” Ray said in a voice of deep consolation.
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