Jon Heath - Whatever.

I wake up to my right foot itching. I rub it on the sheet. The last thing I remember was the crash. Maria and I were riding our rented scooter through the Carpathian Mountains. Nearing dusk, we decided to head back down towards the villa. As we weaved our way downward, we were blinded by headlights coming around the bend. It was a narrow road, and the oncoming vehicle was enormous. I immediately ran out of asphalt, losing control. I think I remember telling my Maria to hold on. Even more foggy was the blurred sight of the two men dressed in blue helping me into the back of a white van. I lay in a mundane hospital bed with some redundant political crap airing on the television in a language I can't make out. Gray daylight seeps through the curtains of my window, providing the only light in the room other than the TV. I can feel the cool liquid entering my left arm, granting me the serenity to pass the time.   This must be the feeling that fuels a new addiction . Every new dro

The first thing I acknowledge is pain. My ribs feel as if they've sustained a terrible impact, and the back of my head is throbbing. When I open my eyes, I notice the sky is full of smoke. People are screaming, and there are birds circling in the sky. Blood has pooled in my beard. Gathering my senses, I realize there is a battle going on, and I have no recollection of anything leading up to this moment. To my right, there is a floating white orb of light. There's something soothing about it. I feel as if I've lived this reality before. As I lift myself up to a sitting position, I quickly pan around looking for what to do first. Grabbing for my sword and shield, I wince in pain when I move my arm. Out of nowhere, a vial with a red liquid floats out from seemingly nowhere, and as if I don't have control of my own body, my hand reaches out for it, and I drink it. The taste, if only for a split second, takes me to a beautiful beach. I instantly feel better, and jump to my

First Tee      The entry fee has been paid. You arrived early, as you always do. The stretches and practice putts are already completed. You feel tightness in your back again. This always happens at tournaments when you get started earlier than usual. After shaking hands with everyone on the card, you dive into your own thoughts and block the idle chatter around you. It's time to focus. You look down at your shoes, glad you went with the waterproof ones to fight the morning dew. It's time for the checklist. You made sure to pack extra towels, and you pull one out and fasten it to the outside of your bag. You dry your throwing hand, and then reach for your rosin bag. You look up at the basket in the distance, trying to decide if you want to play safe, or attack the first hole. Slow and easy to start,  you decide.      The tournament director has put your card on hole three to start. The worst hole on the course. There are many options to attacking this hole, and none of

T he chaotic calm of a deep breath Gives way to the pain in her chest As her brain waves seemingly creating the rest Of the story. Family looming like a dark shade But it's she that's been given the last say And at the end, the call has to be made And there's no glory. The hardest decision to make in her life, "Does he want to persist, or succumb to the fight?" To continue the pain, or walk towards God's light, Where he's needed? But oh how he's ever needed here The future now doesn't seem so clear The agony, the suffering, the pain arears Will she beat it? And as the ticking of the clock Beats on her head like a solid rock "Take it one day at a time," she thought, Till she can deal. And as the decision has been made His soul by her hand flutters away From the affliction of the next countless days He won't feel He now is above, with loved ones of past And his malady has subsided at last But his jubilation

Chapter 9: Omega             “So, you brought me here?”  James had never spoken to Seth Marks, but knew him all too well.             “Yes, along with my friend Wyatt; you remember him from the house,” Seth replied.  The mood in the hospital room was calm, considering the situation.              “Well then, thank you both.  Why did you help me?”  Carter’s memories were a bit shaken, and he had holes in his recollection of anything after the gunshot.              “Because you stood up for us. You stood up to Tom.  I noticed something in you; a change since our last encounter.  You are a different man now. A better man.”  Seth switched his attention to Gwen.  “I’m guessing she’s the reason?”             Carter moved his head to see Gwen, and a smile came to his face.  “She’s amazing.”  As he spoke, a new question came to his head.  “What happened to Tom?”  Wyatt stared at Seth, who seemed to be fighting with himself, trying to find the right words.  Wyatt took the op

Chapter 8: Resolution             Seth and Wyatt sat in the corner of the room, watching the hitman and his boss reenter the room.  Seth had been so careless with his decision to allow the old man to make a phone call.  It was that decision that landed them in the predicament they were in now.  If something were to happen to them, it would be his fault.  Wyatt’s death would be his fault.  All for what?  A chance at redemption? A spot of vengeance to ease his mind? It all seemed so futile now.  God had given him a second chance at life, and he had wasted it pursuing revenge.  Put it out of your mind, and focus.  You need to do something.               For some reason, they had not been tied down, not been restricted in any way except for the guns that were constantly being lazily pointed at them.  Seth had been looking for a chance to turn the tables, but still was unable to find a weakness. Sitting around awaiting death was maddening, and the thoughts in his head were only mak

Chapter 7: Confrontation             “Sit.”  Seth shoved the older man towards a chair in the middle of the room.  The man regained his balance, and took a seat.  Keeping the pistol in plain sight, Seth pulled another chair over in front of his new acquaintance, and sat facing the man.  “Wolf, right?”                         Tom stared directly into Seth’s eyes at this statement.  After a few seconds of silence, Seth continued.  “Albert Watson gives his regards.”  Tom’s expression didn’t change as he replied.             “I figured you may come here next.  Beretta told me of two strange men coming into his store asking questions about a rare gun.  And that was quite an interesting article in the paper about that poor mute’s murder.  What can I do for you, Mr. Marks?”             “You know why I’m here.  Who is he, and where can I find him?”                         “Don’t be so hasty Mr. Marks.  You do not find Shadow, Shadow finds you.”  A slight smirk came acros