The yellow cab pulled through the gates of expansive Grant Mansion, overlooking Lake Michigan. Marc and Jean Paul leaned over Marlene as all three looked out her window at the vast estate.
“Your employer. Grant. What exactly does he do?”Samuels eyed the three in the back.
“Well, he’s currently closing a business deal in New York. But he often entertains various philanthropic interests. Generally anonymously. His father was a rabbi, and not being Jewish myself, I think he refers to it as Seaducker or something.”“Tzedakah.” Corrected Marc.
“Are you Jewish, Marc?”“I-- don’t know. Evidently, I guess, I must have been. It's about charity.” He stumbled on introspection.
In the rear view mirror Samuels looked long and hard at Spector, before averting his eyes and continuing to focus on the lengthy driveway.
“It means ‘justice’ or ‘righteousness’ in classic Hebrew...”Spector furrowed his brow and thought back on Samuels answer. He’d very specifically given no real new information. He also didn’t really answer the question. He’d deflected it. Something was going on here. He also didn’t particularly care for how he was looking at him.
Samuels pulled the cab around to the front of the mansion. It was palatial, and Marlene and DuChamp gasped at the opulence. Marc was still too sullen in his thoughts. How does any of this make sense? What could a billionaire - or at the very least, Multi-millionaire - possibly want with an ex-marine, ex-CIA mercenary that he would feel remotely ethically comfortable lending his own assistance with? And that’s considering whether he would be capable of being of any use without his memory in the first place.
“Marc, look! This is amazing!” Marlene shouted from the steps with her arms out wide.
Marc smiled, and let himself live in the moment if only for the time being. It really was a spectacular house. If a place this size could even be called a “house”.
Samuels unlocked the door and apologized that food would not be available for a few hours; the housekeeper/cook was out attending other business. He then accommodated each of the three showing them to their own guest bedrooms and informed them that they could feel free to walk the grounds, Samuels would be busy returning the yellow taxi to its owner.
Dusk was fast approaching, as Marc took his leave to stroll around and look across Lake Michigan. The mansion fast eclipsing the setting sun behind him as the lake in front fell into shadow, cast by the cliff face that Grant’s property was perched atop.
“Everything OK?”He looked around and saw Marlene approaching.
“No complaints.” He replied.
“It’s just-- none of this makes any sense. And if it does make sense I guess I’m worried about how it does.”“There is a lot happening very fast. Just think. This time yesterday we were halfway around the world.”“I woke up yesterday and found out that I’m some kind of ultraviolent mercenary who’s at least partially responsible for the murder of the father of one of the only two people I even know. Do I even have any more friends out there? What kind of person would even call Marc Spector ‘friend’?”“It’s cold.”“What?”“Well, Canada’s just on the other side. Even though it’s summer, the lake looks cold. Samuels told me there’s a heated indoor pool in the mansion. Come on.” She started to walk back.
“I didn’t pack any swimwear. Came straight from the desert with carry on.”She turned back and smiled flirtatiously.
“I know. Me neither.” Before continuing to walk back to the mansion in a fashion that accentuated her curves.
Marc gave Lake Michigan one more cursory glance before heading back to find this pool he’d heard such good things about....
Jack Russell ran hard whilst his chest and legs burnt. The sun was falling fast and he needed the security of wide open isolated spaces. He could feel phantom whiskers grow across his face, which was often just a result of the anxiety and fear of the transformation.
It’s ok. Keep calm, Jack. Lincoln Park is just 2 blocks further.
His arms and legs started to burn from the extremities and he gasped as he realized it wasn’t from the running. Thick fur was coming through in patches. It still wasn’t growing back on his ankle due to the scar tissue from when he clawed off the GPS device.
Nearly there…
His gait widened and he almost bounced across the intersection as extra strength surged into his legs.
He looked up and saw the sign. Lincoln Park. But he was still on the streets? Then the horrifying realization hit him as transformation progressed further.
The signs he’d been following were for the district Lincoln Park, and not the park itself.
“Oh NOOOOOO!”
He screamed. Fur burst through his chest. His skeletal system changed as he was once more raised to his haunches. Bones cracked into place as sinew twisted.
“--OOOOOOOOOOOOW! OW! OW! OWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
He heard more screams, this time they weren’t his own. The last thing he remembered was seeing people’s faces contorted in horror as they tried to flee before the blackness crept in and he regressed deep into the darkness of one of the corners within the beast’s mind.
RPM
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