Science Fiction: Welcome to my Worlds

He stomped the accelerator to the floor and the car took off with a wild shriek as both the electric motors and hydrogen engine kicked in together. Right now he didn’t care if there was a shred of rubber left on his new tires by the time he reached home.

Even in the midst of his worry, he felt the exhilaration of reckless abandonment to the engines roar as he swerved to pass a car blocking his way and narrowly missed a garbage truck parked at the curb. He hadn’t driven like this since he was a foolish teenager. The look of disappointment his father had given him then was far worse than his punishment. Unlike most of those around him, he’d never been much of a believer in all the many religions, but if there was an afterlife, he’d bet his father would understand this time.

for the door, making a quick jump to the side to avoid the Arab who tried to step into his path.

“Wait, sir. I have a question…”

Ignoring him, Rajiid straight-armed the door, startling a couple who were about to come in. He pushed between them, promising himself he’d apologize later. He wasn’t in the same shape he’d been in back in college when he left his friends in the dust, but he could still sprint, and he was running flat-out toward his car after ten feet.

He didn’t so much hear the explosion as feel it. A massive hand of wind at his back pressed him forward, almost moving him past the car before he could slow down. He didn’t hear the click as he pressed the button in his pocket, flicking up the lock tabs inside the car, but he saw the brick fly by his ear. And another nearly hit a pedestrian by the road. For some reason the guy seemed to be pointing at him and waving his arms in excitement.

Rajiid coughed at the dust in the air as a big wad of powdery fluff settled on his shoes. Pausing for a split second, he turned to look. Only a three-foot high pile of rubble remained. Then it hit him and something squeezed his chest hard, making his heart skip a beat. “Anna…”

Hastily he wiped away the tears. He didn’t have time for ‘might-have-beens’ right now. He had to get home fast.

The old woman was speaking. “What kind of doctor are you anyway.” Then to Anna, “What has he been taking?”

He could feel Anna shaking his shoulder. That was good. He needed to get out of this fog and get over there. But he couldn’t seem to move. One of the men was pulling a knife! He saw Anna’s hand waving in front of his face. Okay… he’d gotten the warning. Now he needed to get out of this and get to his house!

Through the fog he could see the concern etched on her angular but finely-molded features, only inches from his. He felt her shake him again. Much harder. He didn’t know if it was the shake or another surge of the ‘warm fuzzy’ but suddenly something gave and he could feel his muscles spasm and lock. Something slammed into the pill bay and bottles and pills flew into the air. Anna jumped, loosening her grip. He gasped for air, now back in the pharmacy. He saw the old woman try to slam the door on her way out, but the closer prevented it from being effective.

“Rajiid!”

“Missy. Something wrong. Must go.” His words sounded mumbled, even to himself, but he didn’t have time to make it any clearer. He knew Missy was in danger. It was not his imagination. Something else was trying to nag at him too, but he didn’t have time for it now.

Rajiid ran

jacket, you Russian slut’ simmering in there and—apparently—so could Anna. He’d be the first to admit he didn’t know much about women, but he’d been around Anna long enough now to know when she was coming to a boil. Without thinking about it he put his arm around her and tried to move himself in between the women to prevent a runaway loop of bad feeling. Then he had to wonder if that was a good idea because he seemed to pick up something from her like he had from the Arab. But this time in a good way. Warm and fuzzy.

The old woman turned her attention back to Rajiid. “My arthritis. I need some pills for it.”

“Certainly. Let me have your prescription and you can pick it up in a few minutes.”

“I don’t have a prescription. Just give me some pills.”

Rajiid raised his eyebrows at Anna… and then he felt things start to slip away. He could still hear them talking, as if from a great distance through a cloud of fog, but his attention was being drawn elsewhere. To his house. To his daughter Missy. Something was wrong. For once he didn’t try to fight it. This was important. He couldn’t pretend it was his imagination. He saw her lying on the bed asleep… and two men were sneaking into her bedroom!

The front bell dinged and an old woman entered the pharmacy. Rajiid remembered seeing her before but couldn’t remember her name. He was usually pretty good with names. Must have something on her mind from the way she was striding toward them. Anna squeezed his fingers. She was so pretty. And so—nice—really. He wished…

She was still looking into his eyes, searching for something. “I know you care for me. Tell me I haven’t been imagining that for the last three years.”

“It is not your imagination Anna. I would have asked you to marry me, but…”

“But what?”

“There are things…” The old woman reached across the counter and impatiently tugged at Rajiid’s sleeve. Relief washed over him in waves. How could he possibly tell her how DIFFERENT he was from other people. The feelings he had to fight off. Things that happened.

“Young man! Could you take a brief vacation from your love life and help me please?”

“Sorry Madame. What can I do for you?” Careful. Not quite such a gleeful smile. Anna was looking daggers at the old woman for interrupting.

She gave Anna a disgusted up and down glance in return. Rajiid could feel a ‘Why don’t you button your

waiting for you…” She pulled her jacket back, revealing more tempting cleavage, put one leg forward—hiking her skirt and showing off her wonderful legs in the process—and wet her lips. He didn’t know which was more tempting. “…stark naked.”

Rajiid stared at her for a moment, stunned. He thought about her being naked often but… “I would, I would… Why would you do a thing like that?!”

Anna smacked the fax orders down onto the counter forcefully, upsetting a bottle and sending a shower of green-striped capsules rolling across the floor. “Because I can’t seem to get your attention any other way! When are you going to let go Rajiid?”

Opening his mouth, Rajiid realized he had no idea what to say. “What…?”
She took his hand and moved even closer. Her lips were practically brushing his. He could smell a delicate perfume he didn’t realize she’d been wearing. His nose had never been good with scents. He wished he dared…

“Your wife Rajiid. I know you loved her deeply. But she’s been dead twelve years now.”

He must have winced because she suddenly seemed less angry and more sympathetic. Her voice lowered to a husky tone. “It’s time to move on.”

With her bright smile, bouncy blonde hair and bountiful endowments peeking decorously from the semi-concealment of her jacket, she was always a joy to watch. “Good Morning Anna. You are looking especially lovely today.”

She gave him a look he didn’t quite know how to interpret. “You say that every day, you know.”

“Probably because it is always true.” It slipped out before he could think about it. He didn’t need any special senses to tell she was upset about something. His years of marriage should have taught him to be a little more cautious when speaking to women. But it had been a long time…

The Arab distracted him momentarily as he caught the motion of his ducking behind the counter to look at something out of the corner of his eye. When he looked back at Anna she was only a foot away from his face.

“You shouldn’t flirt if you don’t mean it. It could give a girl the wrong idea.”

She was looking right into his eyes and he could tell she was expecting some response. Probably an important one. Unfortunately, he had no idea what it should be. “What do you mean?”

She smirked at him. One of her few annoying habits. “What would you do if you came in one morning and I was

Motel 666
By
Don (full name on file)
(copyright 2009)

Chapter One

Rajiid threaded his way through the cluttered aisles at the front of the pharmacy trying to avoid bumping into the chunky Arab. He seemed so completely absorbed in his study of the bandage selection that Rajiid felt reluctant to disturb his concentration. Customers always came first. Behind the counter, he could see Anna had already started pulling last night’s fax orders from the machine.

The Arab reached up to adjust his turban—another Pathan, apparently. He remembered reading in the paper that some cities in India were being practically overrun with them now. The man took a step back just as Rajiid tried to step past. Their arms brushed for a split second and Rajiid almost stumbled as he felt a quick flash of anger—almost rage—pour from the other man.

Opening his mouth to apologize for whatever imagined offence he might have given, he saw only a look of calm interest on the other’s face. Imagination, he told himself firmly. Not going to go down that road again.

He watched Anna work efficiently at sorting pills into various bottles for the fax orders as he stepped up behind the counter and put on a fresh jacket from the cabinet.