

THREE

Phil Wohl

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Phil Wohl

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Brian Stephens sat in a wobbly, wooden chair unconscious with blood streaming down his face from an open wound on his head. His hands were tied behind his back and his legs were bound tightly, perhaps giving the appearance that he would not be extending beyond that point for some time.

He had been left in the main room of an abandoned warehouse, which was both drafty and lit only by occasional streaks of sunlight that would flicker throughout the premises. Stephens was knocked out because of his inability to retreat in the face of certain disaster. His life's work had been to grasp onto the ideas of others and push the boundaries and limits of that idea, taking it where no other human could go.

Certainly, being beaten and left for dead in an old factory in Beach Haven, New York, was no place for a psychologist by trade. It was also the last place in the world the secret service would look for the man that was days away from becoming the head of the free world. That was, until, the events of the last several months unfolded.

Dr. Stephens slowly regained consciousness and instinctively tried to move his extremities before picking up his head. He then reset his bearings by projecting the three dimensions of his self-image—a technique that he had molded into an unstoppable force—only this time around, the decision-making process would surely be immersed in revenge.

PRACTICE

It was Solomon Stephens that obsessed over the details of what he called the "method of three," although he was not around in the corporeal sense to see the fruit of his labor. As the family's first Dr. Stephens, Solomon became focused on a method that he often explained to his patients:

"Life changing decisions usually bring out both the best and worst in the person that it entrusted with the weighty task. But, when a process is boiled down to its most essential components, the potential outcomes consist of three seemingly interrelated choices. The decisional scenario is similar to that of a typical three-lane highway, in which the right lane symbolizes ultra-conservancy, the middle of the road is just that in essence, and the left lane offers the greatest chance to maximize potential while also attaching the highest level of risk."

Patients came into his office with all kinds of problems, whether they are mental issues alone or mental difficulties that transitioned into physical ailments. Solomon used a combination of hypnosis, meditation and sensory perception top guide patients down the three-lane highway and come to a logical conclusion... their conclusion. While he had the ability to influence the results of these sessions, it was the patient that was the sole driver of the mental automobile.

"Can you imagine the possibilities?" and eager Brian Stephens said to his father after he completed his years of educational training and was about to join his father's practice.

"The possibilities of what?" Solomon asked his son.

"The possibilities of human suggestion. The possibilities of guiding the process to an intelligent conclusion based on the prior history of the patient," Brian replied.

"Are you saying that you want to contaminate my process?" Solomon challenged his first born.

"I think contaminate is a pretty strong word. I'm thinking more like it's an evolution of your process to a more modern-day, holistic solution that will spur organic growth."

Solomon thought, "This kid always uses big words to distract people from what's really going on." And then he flashed back to when his son first started driving and did not want to put in the work necessary to pass his driving test.

"I use the curb to cushion my steering when I parallel park. My father got these new tires that never go flat, so he taught me how to use the curb as a guide when I park," Brian explained to the confused evaluator after he hit the curb on both of his parking attempts.

Solomon was watching when Brian failed on his attempts to parallel park, and figured that he would have to waste another afternoon bringing his incorrigible kid to try to pass his driving test.

Brian and his evaluator, Mr. Perkins, emerged from the car and she looked at Solomon for confirmation of the explanation. Solomon smiled broadly and flashed a positive thumbs up as if his son had actually succeeded in his attempt to pass his driving test. He had absolutely no idea why he chose the positive facade, and when Mrs. Perkins flashed a smile and a thumbs up in return, Brian new he had passed the test.

The Early Years

Solomon definitely kept both of his eyes on Brian during the early years of their practice. One the one hand, he was intrigues by the possibilities of his own technique, but mostly he was wary of the impact a first born—who was all intent on taking over the world and hogging all of the air—would have on his work.

Being the younger, weaker brother to an older sister bent on control was all Solomon Stephens could think about when he was growing up.

"You'll never amount to anything, Salamander," was a familiar slap-down by Julie Stephens, who often used derogatory nicknames in attempt to control her brother's emotions. But, it was in this continuous abuse that Solomon discovered a method that would help him compartmentalize and then efficiently process the stimuli he could not control with conventional methods.

When Julie would launch the "never amount to anything" barb, he immobilized the words and then imagined three potential outcomes:

  1. He would fulfill the biased prophecy and live with his parents until he was really old, or 40, whichever came first.

  2. He would try to put up with his sister until she left the house, and then would start living.

  3. He would stop listening to such nonsense and, in fact, work as hard as he could in school and amount to a lot more than his useless sister!

Solomon was quite strong-of-mind and opted for the more aggressive left lane of his personal three-lane highway. Although he was not a chance-taker by nature, he also was not a loser or a doll meant to someone else's pin cushion, either.

Once Solomon got rolling in life, it no longer mattered what his sister did or said, because he had already paved his path, his personal journey, and the emotional undulations of his unstable sister no longer charted his passage.

It was amazing to Solomon that his son followed in his footsteps and became a licensed therapist.

"The money is shit, the hours are crazy and it takes you years of schooling just to become qualified," the father told the son as they supposedly talked about Brian's future following his freshman year at Northwestern University.

But, Brian knew of his father's work at the college and he internalized it in his own narcissistic three-lane highway and figured he could do it better. So, he embarked on a crusade to actually make something more of the technique beyond simply helping people construct a better decision-making model. All things Brian were cultivated for his own personal gain, and this was clear to his father from the outset.

"Did I hear that you were out with Pamela Ralston last weekend?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Brian replied as he continued to transcribe findings from recent patient sessions.

"We're not supposed to date our patients."

"It's not a problem, I took care of it," Brian countered.

"How did you take care of it?" the father demanded and a more substantial answer.

"Let's just say that she is no longer a patient."

Solomon was furious, "I told you that I didn't want you using my technique for your personal gain!"

Brian always hated when his father referred to the method in such a possessive way, like it was his and only his and no one else could take it and make it their own!

"I don't know what you're talking about? Can you be more specific of what you are referring to?"

There were times when Solomon would forego utilizing his own methods, especially when it involved his shifty son. There were times when he didn't even understand his decision to form a partnership with the one person in the world that he absolutely knew he couldn't trust.

"What am I referring to?" Solomon mumbled audibly and then took a deep breath in order to remain diplomatic in the office.

"You broke our doctor-patient code."

While Brian knew what he had done—because he had done it so many times that he had lost count—32—he was waiting for the optimal emotional moment to initiate the protocol.

"I'm not sure I follow you? Can you be more specific?"

Solomon reached his breaking point, "You're fucking Pam Ralston!"

The tone of his voice could be heard in the waiting area, a few patients that were in the room cringed from the intensity and anger.

Brian started almost talking to himself because he knew his father had reached the edge and would continue the assault.

"F*cking is a pretty strong word. I hardly think she was putting out enough to even elicit such a word. It's probable that I didn't even break a sweat."

Solomon fired back, "I'm not going to let you do this anymore! You're making a mockery of my practice!"

The action slowed as a now-frozen and red-faced Solomon was evaluated by Brian.

"I love it when he refers to this as "his" practice, when 65% of the revenues are now generated by me. I am the one, in fact, that no longer needs him! But I'll keep him around because I know this next part will be quite entertaining."

"Would you say our practice has reached—oh, let me search for the word—a crisis mode?"

The countenance on the elder Stephens' face transitioned from active to passive, as Brian's safe word had once again done the trick.

"You keep what you're doing, son, and I will always support you," a now-proud and appreciative Solomon stated.

Brian had run out of patience.

"Run along, Solly. Go make me some money."

Solomon was happy as a clam, as he whistled his way out of Brian's office and into the waiting room.

"Brian thought he saw a bug, but it was just a piece of fabric that fell off his couch," he said in jest and then wondered why he even spoke such words on the way back from his office.

"That kid is always up to something," he grunted in a low, but frustrated voice.

Dishonest Man

While Brian might have been able to convince women that they had to sleep with him, he proved less successful at guiding one special woman away from pregnancy.

"You're what?!" he yelled in a surprised tone into the phone while sitting at his desk in his office. He was in the middle of what he thought was another successful set-up for a late-night bootie call.

"I'm pregnant," Melanie Lantz said to Brian and the followed it up with, "What time do you want to meet at my apartment later?"

She knew of the pregnancy but he had used the trigger word "wild" just before she dropped the "p" bomb. His words must have had a delayed effect on his baby-mamma because she plowed right over him before opening the door to another night of meaningless s*x.

"Are you going to keep it?" Brian asked before he really thought about the impact a wife and family would have on his political aspirations.

"Keep what?" she replied.

Brian realized she was now under the influence, so he said "Broccoli," and the spell was broken. My, how he immensely hated broccoli!

"Are you going to keep the baby?" he asked again.

She hesitated for a moment and then realized, "I haven't given it much thought. But I'm sure that any baby with you would be quite beautiful."

Brian went through his mental Rolodex and tried to remember if he would be the only one contributing in a positive way to the gene pool. He thought about the name Melanie Lantz and came up dry until he grabbed a book of pictures of his female patients—yes, he took pictures of his patients, most of which were female, and put them in a bound black book to be used a sort of a sexual yellow pages depending on his mood on a particular day.

When he came to the picture of Melanie Lantz, he flashed on their nights together and how he loved her flexibility and an ass he could bounce a quarter off.

"Daddy likes," he muttered.

"I'll stop by later and we'll decide what we're going to do,' he said, although he had already decided to make Melanie a keeper.

He married Melanie a few months later in a quiet ceremony at the Mineola, Long Island Municipal Building before her baby bump was showing too much.

"This is the happiest day of my life!" she exclaimed as they left the building as man and wife, although the euphoric feeling was once again an illusion provided by the good Dr. Stephens.

"Yeah, me too," he said in a matter-of-fact nature, and then followed it up with, "Are you gonna' be good to get home? I have an appointment I can't miss in 10 minutes."

Melanie agreed and then drove home in her own car, a broken-down Nissan Sentra, which felt like the carriage ride that she always dreamt of on such a special day.

Stephens was on his way to a typical mid-day session with one of his more active patients, who required less influencing because she was hell-bent on marrying a doctor, any doctor.

"I want to have kids," was the first thing that Susan Green said to Brian after they finished having sex for the second time. The Viagra pill he swallowed after the first session ended abruptly and without much fanfare, helped step up his game a few notches. Brian's mind was playing tricks on him, as his focus was split between marriage and pregnancy, and what he thought would be the opposite of all that.

"What did you just say?" he asked. Brian had not used a transitional word with Susan because the interaction with her was always pure and trouble-free. He wished at that moment that there was a way to trick himself into believing some alternate reality, but it appeared that this was something that he actually had to deal with.

"Are you serious?" he asked before making a commitment one way or another.

"I have heard things about you, but I have chosen to only believe what I see and feel. All I've wanted since I met you was to be Mrs. Stephens," she stated, proving that perhaps the strongest manipulator on the earth's surface is a woman.

For the first time in his life, Brian Stephens was afraid of losing something, so he assumed the feeling was akin to love, if not love itself.

"We should do this right away," he replied, thinking of his recent past of getting a woman pregnant and then marrying her completely on the down-low in a civil ceremony with only witnesses he did not know in attendance.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"That's an excellent question," he replied. "I'll get back to you on that one."

And she thought to herself, "I'll take it!"

Course Correction

Brian left Susan and went straight back to the courthouse, which was had closed a few minutes earlier. He walked up to the front door and a worker was eager to close on a Friday afternoon.

"I'm sorry buddy, but we are closed for the day," the burly man said.

Brian thought fast, "I just need to get my cell phone, guy. I left it in the loo," he replied, using successive 'l' words, which propelled the man to respond in kind to a left lane command.

"That's cool, pal. Just let yourself out when you're done."

Brian shook the guy's hand and then made his way to the office where he filed for the marriage certificate, and then located the woman that previously helped him.

"Did you forget something?" she asked when she saw him walking into an otherwise empty office.

"It's funny that you ask," Brian replied, and then he had a bit of a chuckle, trying to come up with a phrase overflowing with 'm's' to guide this woman into the middle lane.

"It was my mistake to jump so quickly into the marathon that is marriage."

She hesitated for a moment, because this left-lane woman suddenly had her right directional on and was merging into the lane of acquiescence. She pulled out her pile of unfiled applications and asked, "Name?"

"Brian Stephens."

Esther Brody shuffled through the top tier of applications, "Carmichael, Zellner, Anthony, Diamond, Grasso, Hernandez, Trent... ah, here were are, Stephens! Brian Stephens and Melanie Lantz."

He sealed the deal, "Music to my melon."

"Well, Mr. Stephens..." Brody said and then tore the application in half and then in half again. "You and Miss Lantz are no longer married. She then placed the torn paperwork in the shredder and turned the machine on, reducing an already thin commitment to nothing more than common recyclable material.

Part of the skill of implementing Solomon's three-lane technique was sizing up the audience and then providing the appropriate stimuli. The guy closing the front door was a classic 'non-actor' and needed to be transitioned into the left lane just to be aggressive enough to make a decision. Esther Brody was an alpha in every sense of the label and always had to be in charge. So, Brian shifted her into the middle lane to neutralize her urge to say no while also maintaining her ability to make decisions in a swift and proper manner.

The next part of Brian's busy day was to put an end to a relationship that had no present and no future, and also stood on a shoddy foundation of past events. He was now squarely focused on Susan Green and a life they would forge together. She came from a long line of wealthy bureaucrats, and he figured that Susan and her family would be able to launch his small-town political career until he was able to fully implement his technique on a more widespread basis.

But, first he had to be present on the other end of the spectrum so he could release himself from a commitment to Melanie Lantz—at least from a physical and emotional standpoint—before it became more difficult to turn that lever off. He planned to finance the baby's life to some extent, although it would never be known where the funds really came from.

Brian knocked on the door of Melanie's apartment at the beautiful Meadowbrook Gardens complex, and had only right lane thought in mind. And before she could say, "Ah, it's my new husband!" because that's what she had loaded and ready to go in her mind queue, he stepped in and said, "It is really important that you respect and recognize what I am about to say."

And with those words se signaled and glided into the right lane and was about to give of herself up so that everyone else could pass by. Brian threw in an extra 'r' word because he wanted to leave no doubt of the outcome and make sure his 'spell' was binding.

"You will raise this child as both mother and father. There will be no need for another father because the father she had was a wonderful man who died tragically in a car accident. He was killed by a drunken driver. Brian Stephens no longer exists, and the person you knew you will no longer remember."

He waited a few seconds for the whammy to take hold and then she asked, "Do I know you?"

And he replied, "I'm sorry, I must have knocked on the wrong door."

"No worries," she replied as she closed the door and then removed the gold wedding band from her left hand and placed it in the kitchen garbage. Brian had already removed his wedding band earlier in the day; he walked to his car and never gave another thought to the lives he left behind.

Middle Lane

"You're getting married?" a surprised Solomon Stephens asked his son after hearing the news of Brian's impending nuptials. Solomon already knew about the marriage to Susan Green, but he was still very much in the dark about the baby that was swimming around inside of Melanie Lantz. He asked the question to buy himself time and initiate his own three-lane road in advance of his son trying to force him into an alternate reality.

The father was becoming increasingly paranoid, as gaps in his memory were becoming vaster. He installed hidden video cameras a few months earlier and had started viewing the feed, spotting noticeable changes in his demeanor and speech whenever he and his son were talking alone.

Solomon took a deep breath and envisioned a transition from his usual aggressive position with his son in the left lane to a more wait-and-see passive stance in the right lane, hoping to neutralize anything his son tried to throw his way. Being a moving target, he hoped, would keep him as an objective observer and enable him to counter power moves behind the scenes.

Brian only thought of his father as the aggressor and planned to keep leveraging the left lane button because it appeared to be working.

"My marriage is a union based on love and much meaning," throwing a four-spot of 'm's' at his father so there would be no confusing his intentions.

Solomon had studied the feed and tried to mirror a response that was typical of such manipulation.

"I am very happy for you and your bride," he said with little emotion. He was going to follow it up with an additional bland statement but thought better of it because that would have been of character.

"Fuckin' useless piece of shit!" Brian grunted as he turned away from his father, who had to call on every fiber of his being to not beat his ungrateful and diabolical son to a bloody pulp!

The Brian spit on the floor in front of his father and then moved very close to Solomon's face and said, "I own you, old man."

Solomon thought, "You wish, you little malignant piece of shit!"

But outwardly he remained stoic until his son left the room. Then he thought, "If it take me until my last breath, I will find out what spawn of Satan is up to!"

The wedding went off without a hitch and Brian thought it was best to wait until the wedding day to start impregnating his new wife. Oliver was conceived on the third night of the honeymoon when the couple had a bit too much to tequila to drink and got a little sloppily-wild in their Cabo suite.

The grandfather and the grandson saw eye-to-eye the split-second their eyes met. Solomon realized in that moment that he had an ally to combat Brian, a conduit in which he could continue his research when he physically left the planet.

Solomon started working with Oliver immediately and took just about any available opportunity to evaluate his charge and confirm his intuition. He surmised that the boy was a classic middle lane thinker just like himself, whereas they sought to size up what was in front of them and then make a decision on what appropriate action to take.

The boy was barely six months old when Solomon administered a series of tests while his father was away raising money for one of his first campaigns. He placed three blocks in front of the toddler and said, "Which block are you Oliver, red, yellow or green?"

Oliver looked over the left block, which was green, then the right block, which was red, and then set his sights on the middle block, which displayed the cautionary color of yellow. He started long and hard, which amounted to about three seconds, and then leaned over and picked up the yellow block.

Grandpa' clapped and exclaimed, "Very good!!"

Oliver smiled and waved his arms before doing what any six-month old would do, he put the block into his mouth and started gumming it.

Dr. Stephens repeated the test over and over again with different colors and cues, but the result was always the same: Oliver was always driving his thoughts in the middle lane. These exercises went on for the first few years of Oliver's life until Solomon believed it was time for his grandson to make the transition from the testing to Brian-proofing stage. This 16-year process would take Brian up to his 18th birthday and hopefully make his the strongest Stephens yet. Solomon's hope was for Brian to become the master of his three-lane technique and both put an end to his father's madness and restore the integrity of the original intent of the process, which was to help people better make decisions.

Brian wasn't the only one with an agenda in his family practice. Solomon had placed cameras and recording devices all around Brian's office and has studied the various nuisances of the manipulation extensively. While Brian was always shifting people into lanes for his personal gain, his father never forced a lane change - he simply set up the decisional scenario for his patients and leg them move into the appropriate lane when they were comfortable enough to come to a decision.

He went through the exercise with Oliver when they went to buy his first bike for his second birthday.

The special part of Solomon's technique was that be never initially limited the decision set that went into a decision. An example of this would have been if he has pre-selected three bikes for Oliver to choose from. Instead, they walked into the bike shop and the let everything else flow naturally until it was time to categorize the stimuli.

"What can I help you gentleman with today?" the 20-something salesman asked the pair.

Marty Cromwell had recently been a patient of Solomon's as a result of some pre-marital discord between him and his fiancée, Courtney. Through only four sessions, the couple realized they were incompatible and were destined to always drive in separate lanes. Weeks of arguing and fighting had brought them to threatening each other about not going through with their pending nuptials. That was, until, Solomon showed up at the bike shop one morning to look over the store's selection of tricycles.

"Can I help you, sir?" Cromwell asked.

Solomon heard the intonation in this man's voice and then looked deep into his eyes and saw nothing but stress and pain.

Solomon placed his hand on the man's shoulder and asked, "Is there anything I can help you with, my son?"

One week later, the couple was finishing up their last session in Solomon's office.

"I want to live in a cold climate and do lots of skiing and hiking," Marty Cromwell stated.

"I see a life in the suburbs with lots of kids," Courtney said.

Solomon new the answers to his next question, but had to have his patients register the response aloud.

"What lane are in Marty?"

Solomon always had his patients in a semi-hypnotic state so their response would be more pure than their awake thoughts, which could be potentially manipulated.

"Left," he replied. And then he repeated, "Definitely left."

He then turned to Courtney and asked, "What lane are you in Courtney?"

From an outsider's perspective, it appeared that by Courtney's free-wheeling attitude that she would be a left lane mental driver. But, upon further digging, she had disguised herself as a fast-laner in order to snare a husband. In fact, during their session, she had quickly transitioned into the middle lane and then, without hesitation, into the right lane where she naturally fit.

While Marty loved Courtney, the Courtney he fell in love with was not the Courtney he was about to marry. He really wanted to live a life of adventure and freedom, while she was predisposed to driving a mini-van and serving a prominent role on the PTA, not scaling mountains and swooshing down them.

"I am in the right lane," she calmly replied.

"Is it possible for you to meet in the middle lane?" Solomon asked because he wanted the couple to visualize what their life would have to be in order for them to have a chance in marriage. Since the good doctor had been holding couples therapy, specifically pre-marriage counseling, there hadn't been one marriage that ended in divorce when it was determined that both parties were in the same lane. But, he had ended more engagements than those that proceeded to marriage.

Solomon let Courtney and Marty struggle for a few minutes until the grimaced looks on their faces denoted a conflict that was not about to be resolved. He then said, "Restfully release from your litany of liabilities."

The words returned the couple from their left and right worlds and brought them back from semi-consciousness to consciousness. Marty rubbed his eyes and said "I feel like I slept all day" and Courtney yawned and said, "That was restful."

Solomon sat back in his leather chair as the couple turned and faced each other from opposite ends of the leather couch. They were now armed with the startling, yet soothing, revelation that they were incompatible and should not be married.

"I didn't know..." Marty stated.

"Because I didn't tell you," Courtney admitted. "I was too busy trying to get what I wanted."

They stood up and hugged and then Solomon escorted them through the doorway of his office and showed them the way out.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Stephens!" Courtney cooed as she threw her arms in relief around Solomon.

"You a life saver, Doc" Marty said as they shook hands.

Solomon took all of the glad tidings in stride and walked back to his desk to transcribe his notes through an oral recording device. He finished by saying, "The conflict was resolved in the fourth session, which meant that this case was completed in five days."

Solomon put the recorder down and was roused by a familiar voice batching his office.

"I don't know how you think we can run a business if you keep finishing these cases so fast. Didn't you learn anything in school?" Brian stated in his usual forceful tone because he knew that he could control his father.

Solomon got one in before having to fake being manipulated.

"Obviously you weren't paying attention much in school. Our goal is to help patients, not stunt their progress so they can become a viable revenue stream."

"This fuckin' guy is getting on my nerves," Brian muttered under his breath. He then said to his father, "You must realign your rendering of right and wrong."

He then turns to the reader and says, "I might have stretched a bit with that last word, but it's the way a word sounds, not how it is spelled, that counts."

Solomon said nothing as he gently gazed toward the center of his mahogany desk.

"This shit is too easy," Brian said and then walked out of his father's office.

Solomon muttered, "In your dreams, junior."

The major difference between Solomon and Brian's techniques was that one was lasting and the other was quite temporary. You would think that Solomon's technique would produce a more lasting impact, but that was not his goal. People would come to a decision in their lives by accessing their own abilities. It was Solomon's job to clear their vision enough to see the opening through the trees. Brian's technique was much more damaging and lasting. He would often change the organic course of thinking, thus altering the natural course of history and people's lives.

Meanwhile, back at the bike shop, Solomon replied to Marty in an upbeat manner, "Can you please show us your finest tricycles?!"

Oliver beamed but felt he needed to clarify his grandpa's request, "Bikes with free wheels," he said and then displayed three fingers on his right hand and then checked the count to make sure he had the correct amount.

Marty smiled and replied, "I think we have a bunch if those over here!" as he led two generations of Stephens' males to the back of the store. The placement of the tricycles in the back of the store was an old retailing trick that made customers walk past all of the higher margin items in order to get to the lower margin/cost items. The hope was that the big people with the money would want to ride with the little people.

Oliver looked at all of the big bikes that surrounded his journey to his area and looked up at Solomon and asked, "Are you going to get a bike, too, Pop-Pop?"

Solomon knew that anywhere his grandson was he wouldn't be far behind so he replied, "Of course, Ollie, but only after you get your bike first."

Oliver kept walking with bigger people trailing behind him until he stopped abruptly at the five bikes that were more his size. They varied from the classic little red tricycle with the built-in back wheels to fancy two-wheel bikes with after-market, assembled back wheels.

"Remember what we talked about, Oliver?" Solomon asked.

"I pick free and then one," Oliver replied, which piqued the interest of Marty, who was obviously very familiar with the concept of three.

He walked up and then touched three bikes, and then waited for Marty to move them in front of the other two. Marty thought for sure that Oliver would the smallest and safest of them all, the little red tricycle, because most kids his age opted for the least intimidating vehicle. Marty loved this because it meant he would eventually wind up selling two bikes after the kids outgrew the starter vehicle in only a few months and then came back for a bigger bike once they had confidence.

Marty and Solomon stepped back - Marty pointing to the small red bike as his guess for Oliver's choice - and Solomon smirking and nodding, knowing that his grandson would prove the salesman wrong.

Oliver, even at two years old, evaluated his choice with all of the maturity of a person many years his senior. He looked over the bikes and took a deep breath, which placed him in the zone to properly evaluate his choices. No one else was in the room and all he saw was three items, as everything else in the store disappeared. He clearly saw his three choices and then placed then in the proper lanes without any assistance.

Oliver calmly wheeled the red tricycle over to the right side and then moved a blue bike with a small yellow bell toward the middle and left the Rolls Royce of tricycles, a green bike with racing stripes, handlebar flares and a basket, on the left side.

He had made his decision and came out of the focus to look back at Solomon. Oliver pointed toward the middle one and said with a huge smile, "That one!"

Solomon smiled and replied, "Great choice, Oliver! It's a real beauty!"

Marty also smiled in recognition of what just happened and added, "Yes it is."

The Candidate

The Green family not only had a long history as political supporters, they also were surprisingly immune to any of Brian's suggestions. This was a severe form of agitation for Brian, who really didn't like not being resisted.

"I still don't understand how it is that you and your family are immune to my persuasion?" he asked as they got dressed for another fundraiser for his campaign for the office of local mayor.

"We're vampires," his wife Susan replied as she sat at her chair in front of her vanity mirror.

He glanced over at her but most of his attention was focused on his tuxedo bow tie, which was giving him a little more trouble than usual on this night.

"Did you say vampires?"

"Did I say vampires?" she replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "I meant to say witches."

"Witches?" he questioned. "I don't know what is worse, vampires or witches?"

She stood up and stood in front him of him, undoing his mangles black tie and then performing the appropriate steps to make it look right.

"We came together for a reason, Brian. All you have to know is that between your powers of persuasion and my family's..." she searched for a different way to say it, but settled on what she had already come up with, "powers of persuasion, you should be virtually unbeatable in just about any election you enter."

"Am I going to win this mayoral race?" he asked.

She smirked, "We are already working on picking out some new linens for the governor's mansion."

"I didn't know you were planning that fare ahead?" he stated, trying to sound grounded and humble.

She finished his tie and then looked him in the eyes, "Like you haven't already thought about living in the White House."

He smiled, "Guilty as charged."

They went to the fundraiser, cleaned people's wallets out and then went to a town hall meeting for people who were still undecided about what candidate they were going to vote for. It was the first time that Brian had met Democratic candidate, Grant Tompkins, face to face. He wasted no time in neutralizing his opponent as they walked to the middle of the room after being introduced.

They shook hands and Tompkins said, "It's a pleasure to meet you Stephens. I was expecting you to be a little taller, but I don't think that will hardly matter," the confident town assemblyman and former treasurer added.

Brian continued to shake his opponent's hand, smiled and then replied, "You are the right person and the right time for such a resurgence."

The supremely confident Tompkins strode to his stool and was followed by Brian, who sat on another stool to his right and waited for questions to be asked.

Brian looked in the audience at his wife and nodded his head, and she smirked and nodded her head back in recognition of what had just occurred. The mayoral race had been somewhat close before this event, but from the very start Tompkins the rebel was nowhere to be found.

"Mr. Tompkins, you have said in many if your earlier statements that you would be tough on crime. Do you plan to add police officers to the city's force?" a women in her 50's, purposely extracted from a Hallmark card within a Lifetime special, soft-tossed the pre-arranged question.

Tompkins sat up and moved to the edge of his stool and was about to powerfully stroll around the floor espousing his position on a "Strong police force, strong city," but that didn't happen. Instead, he brain signaled from the left lane to the center lane, and then cautiously to the right lane of thought. He then slowly stood up and merely anchored his position in front of his stool.

"I think it would be premature to discuss such an expenditure when the city has been in the red for the past 10 years. I doubt we will actually be bold as to launch any new programs," he said to Marsha Grant his next-door neighbor and assistant campaign manager.

She had never seen Grant Tompkins back up a day in his life, and was shocked at first before recovering and attempting to give hind a chance to recant and correct his foible.

"But, you have stated for weeks that strong cities need strong law enforcement. Do you care to clarify your stance?"

Tompkins looked over at Brian and was about to go on the offensive when a strong desire to sit back down in his stool overtook him. He rested comfortably and then looked at his childhood babysitter, Grant, while answering.

"I have looked over the law enforcement records and personnel files and concluded that we need..."

Grant smiled a breathed a sigh of relief because it appeared, at least for a shining moment, that her candidate was back on track.

Then Tompkins continued, "to reduce the police force by 25 percent by layoffs and then offer early retirement packages for another 20 percent. This will help get our budget in line with our projected spending."

There was silence throughout the main room of the municipal building, except for a little barely audible snickering by Susan Green Stephens, which she quickly covered up with a series of coughs.

The proceedings might have ended right then and there, but Brian said, "Does anyone mind if I comment on the same matter?" And, when no one voiced an objection, he stood up and started talking.

"I commend Mr. Tompkins on his fiscal responsibility," he said while smiling at Tompkins. It was like smiling at your enemy and saying, "I'm gonna' walk over there and punch you in your face!"

"But, if there's one thing I gave learned in business, you can't put a price on everything, especially if we're talking about things like mental health and citizen safety. I will not only keep law enforcement and fire department staffing levels steady during my first year in office, I will look to lift employment by 20 percent during the life of my administration."

Then he looked around the room and the 500 people in attendance and waited a moment for his left-lane mojo to sink in. "Does that sound good to you?!"

Everyone jumped to their feet and gave him a long and raucous ovation, in what proved to be the shortest mayoral town hall meeting since the unfortunate sewer explosion of '64.

Muscle Up!

Brian went on to be a governor, senator and head of just about every key congressional committee, before setting his sights on the presidency. By that time he was the ultimate candidate with people only having good things to say about him. Brian stood for anything he wanted to, and usually made rich people even more money. His meteoric rise definitely landed on the radar of a few specialty groups.

This was the infancy of the campaign, with tour stops on the West Coast kicking off the long road to the White House. The first few stops on the tour were in Brentwood, at the University of California Los Angeles campus and Palo Alto, at Stanford University. Brian used the liberal and aggressive tone at these rallies to further stoke the flames of change from the current Republican administration. Next on the schedule was a stop in Palm Springs/Indian Wells, for what Brian thought would be a full of spa treatments and professional tennis.

"You excited?" Brian asked his wife Susan as they sat in the back seat of a luxury SUV en route to the desert.

"Not as excited as you're gonna' be when you see the surprise I have waiting for you once we get there," she replied, fully knowing that the unknown would be a little more of jolt or a shock than a surprise.

The line of cars pulled into the Viceroy Hotel in Palm Springs, which was supposed to be the luxury spa leg of the California desert trip. The hotel had been a staple of the rich and famous since it opened in the 1930s, and had become an affective resting and hiding spot for people who needed to travel discreetly.

Travel Secretary Samantha Grossman went ahead and checked the team into their rooms and got the keys to the Presidential Suite for the Mr. and Mrs. Stephens. It really took a village to travel with such a party, as there were people to carry bags, write speeches, deal with the press, do hair and makeup and maintain security. The latter group of personnel were given the night off by Susan, who had invited the kind of muscle the campaign needed to strengthen the campaign and did not need a confrontation of any kind for this type of grouping.

A bellhop opened the door to the plush, expansive suite and the future first lady and president of the United States walked through the door like they actually needed that much room and associated pampering. Brian reached into his pocket to extract a large bill or two, but was interrupted by a gruff yet powerful voice from behind him.

"Let me get that for you, Mr. President," Vincent Ditalia said as he reached his meaty hands into his $5,000 Armani suit and pulled out a wad of cash encircled with a rubber band.

The bellhop walked toward the wad like he was about to hear the meaning of life.

"Here you go," Ditalia said as he peeled off two $1,000 bills and said, "Bring up some hors d'oeuvres and a bottle of champagne," and then folded the bills and slid it into the hotel employees' breast pocket because he didn't want to make contact with the gentleman's hand. Ditalia had a thing for germs and had lived up to his name The Cleaner because there was never a sign of a crime scene when he was done erasing people from the earth.

"Uncle Vince!" Susan cooed and then ran into the man of steel's arms, much to Brian's confusion.

"Pumpkin!" Vince said as he gathered Susan in his arms.

"How long has it been?" she asked after they finished hugging and kissing a few moments later.

"Too long," Ditalia replied. He then set his sights on the reason why he had traveled from Las Vegas. "He doesn't look like much," Ditalia said to Susan as he looked over Brian.

She smiled, "It's his mind that makes him beautiful."

Ditalia walked over to Brian, who was feeling uneasy and had a stream of right lane words on the ready.

"Vince Ditalia," the West Coast Don said to Brian as he extended his right paw in greeting.

Brian smiled and shook Vince's hand firmly, but was still greatly outmatched by one of the most powerful humans on the earth.

"Dr. Brian Stephens. You have come to the right place for relaxation and a complete lack of rain," Brian stated as the death grip lessened and he was able to reclaim his hand unscathed.

Ditalia's will was so strong that he transitioned from the lane of aggression, the left lane, and only transitioned into the middle lane instead of the right lane.

Brian looked over at his wife and was ready to read her the riot act before an unexpected voice continued to talk.

"That is a lot more powerful than I thought it would be," Vince said as he turned to Susan. Normally he would have struck first and talked second if anyone tried to manipulate him, but his trip to the center lane for a moment all but prohibited this.

Ditalia then started to get back his normal brain function because his will was just too strong, "You know, Doc, every president since Truman has had our endorsement."

Since every transaction and relationship Brian had in recent years required an exchange in order to facilitate his successful candidacy, he looked at the lifelong gangster for his next words, which would be less of a suggestion and more of a direct request that could not be refused.

"We make billions off gambling, but are earnings have trailed off in recent years due to people being a little smarter about giving in to temptation and handing over their hard-earned dollars. And if you ever try that shit on me again, I will break bones that you never knew you had."

The smile disappeared from Brian's face as he walked toward Ditalia and said "Whatever you need Don Vincent," and then kissed the massive ring on man's right hand.

Brian then looked deep in the Don's eyes as he drew him closer. Brian wasn't sure if Ditalia was going to break him off, but he wouldn't completely back down.

For a change, Susan wasn't sure what would happen next, because she had witnesses the unbending wills of both of these men. Ditalia knew he could snap Brian like a twig any time he wanted, but his greed overrode the desire he had to strike down anyone who dared to get in his way. He ended the death stare with a smile and a fairly sadistic laugh as he gently and affectionately slapped Brian in the face and said, "I like this kid! He really has a set of balls on him! Like a fuckin' elephant in the circus."

Susan came over to the two men and said to her husband, "Vince is not only the godfather, he is also my godfather."

Brian thought to himself, "Well, that explains a lot."

Just then, the bellhop and a few other hotel kitchen personnel came in with a bottle of champagne and a top-shelf assortment of food. Ditalia stuffed a few more big bills in his breast pocket and said, "Very good."

They all cleared out and then Don Vincent raised his glass of bubbly and was mirrored by Brian and Susan. He then proposed a toast.

"Here's to a long and prosperous relationship."

Brian and Susan said, "Salud!" while Brian focused on the word "long" as being a function of relative prosperity of Ditalia's organization.

Sweet 16

Oliver was the ripe old age of 15 when his father began exploring the presidency, and turned 16 the day Brian announced his intention to the world that he would run for the country's highest office.

"I thought it would be the best Sweet 16 present you get by announcing my candidacy today," Brian said to Oliver just before the reveal in a press conference.

"So, you running for president is my present?" Oliver asked, not wanting to be stiffed on such a big birthday.

Brian smiled, "What else could you want?"

Oliver turned and started walking away, and for one of the rare moments in their lives together, Brian acted like a father for a change. He whistled at Oliver, which prompted the man-child, all 6'3" of him, to spin around. Brian reached into his suit pants pocket and pulled out a shiny set of keys.

"Try not to scratch it up. It's parked out back in our private garage." And then he tossed the keys to an excited and surprised Oliver, who bolted toward Brian and gave him a hug before he even realized what he was doing.

Brian was quick to correct the error in judgment as he stepped back, "You know we aren't a hugging family."

Oliver was about to say, "But grandpa' and I hug," but he was told by the elder Stephens to conceal details of their relationship was much as possible.

He nodded at Brian and then bolted to the back of the office building and clicked the open door icon on his keypad to see which car he would be driving. Oliver was still breathlessly out of range and wondered if the Ferrari would be his. He then spied his grandfather's Toyota Camry and hoped the lights wouldn't flash on the auto more emblematic of a senior.

Brian was all about manipulating his son and trying to separate him from the potential sway of his grandfather. The boy had wanted a specific car since he was a child, and when the back lights of bright red Corvette flashed, Oliver nearly discharged a variety of liquids in his pants.

"No way!" he exclaimed, as his father's plan of transitioning him from the center lane to the much faster left lane was underway. While Solomon's plan of parking his grandson in the center lane and making him an immovable object had worked up to this point, it would be nearly impossible to keep him there with his new need for speed.

Oliver sped over to his grandfather's house, because the elder Stephens continued to be hesitant about getting involved in his son's campaigns and had vacated his office.

"It's not like he ever asked me to be an active participant anyway," Solomon said to us and then continued to talk, "All he does is try to keep me down with his 'advanced' mind-control techniques. Please don't make me resort to using air quotes! I've spent the majority of the past five years avoiding using a tired finger signal that really adds nothing to a person's point!"

Solomon was already a bit jumpy at the thought of his abusive son running for president, so when Oliver beeped his throaty horn the sound nearly sent his grandfather through the roof.

"Damn kids!" Solomon grunted like a typical man of age wanting everyone to stay clear of his property.

And then he saw his grandson behind the wheel of a left lane convertible sports car and pounded his fist on the wall while exclaiming, "Brian! When will this kid ever give me a moment's peace?" he said as he walked toward the front door. "Never should have had kids."

Solomon then opened the door and walked outside toward the car.

"What do you think, grandpa'?" Oliver asked his grandfather, although he wasn't really looking for affirmation so much as to show off his new ride.

"I think we're all going crazy," Solomon muttered under his breath and then put a smile on his face so that his grandson would not experience any mental scars from his behavior. It would be a lot more difficult to properly position Oliver if there were mental road blocks impeding the flow of neurological traffic.

"Wow! That's a real beauty!" Solomon said with just about all of the sincerity he could muster. He had thought for years that the fate of the free world could hinge on his relationship with Oliver and the ability of his grandson to resist the manipulation of Brian. And everything he had done had worked up until the boy's 16th birthday when the weight of adolescents and puberty appeared to be too heavy a burden.

"Dad got it for me! I can't believe it!" Oliver exclaimed.

"I can," Solomon thought and then Oliver said, "Hop in! Let's go for a ride!"

Solomon really wasn't in the mood for a joy ride, but he was happy to indulge his now left lane grandson. Forty-three minutes and two speeding tickets later, Brian sped down the block and then came to a screeching halt in front of Solomon's house. While the elder Stephens had talked both officers out of the tickets, he knew that it would be a whole different ballgame when Oliver was either driving alone or with his friends.

Solomon wondered during the entire drive how he would approach the situation going forward and predictably broke it down to the following variables:

LEFT: GO CONFRONT BRIAN AND MAKE OLIVER GIVE THE CAR BACK!

MIDDLE: Say nothing and continue monitoring the boy until he could get through.

RIGHTS: watch the world crumble, one brick and stone at a time.

Being a middle lane thinker, Solomon obviously continued down the thought path he felt most comfortable in life. He turned to Oliver before he exited the car and said, "Maybe you should mitigate future risk by thinking of all of the money you'll save by moving more slowly."

Solomon could see a change in the boy's face, although it wasn't a complete transition from the full speed lane into his the lane he was most accustomed to, the middle lane.

"I'll try, Pop Pop," Oliver replied, which brought a smile to Solomon's face. He got out of the car and then waved to his grandson as he pulled away, still over the speed limit but at considerably moderated movement from his earlier pace.

Hours later, Brian didn't notice the change in his 16 year-old son, who would never have accepted the car in the first place if he was stuck in the center lane.

"That car is awesome!" Brian gushed after the family finished with pictures and interviews for the day.

Brian never trusted anyone and always wanted to maintain control so he asked, "Did you get any tickets today?" just to make sure that his son had followed his plan and cleared away any previous limitations in his mind.

Oliver smiled in a bragging sort of look, "Yeah, I got a couple!" Even though Brian had replied to the question instantaneously, he had nonetheless thought about his answer before giving it. His initial reaction was to talk about how his grandfather had talked the policemen out of a few tickets, but decided to take the more direct approach indicative of a classic left-laner.

Brian beamed and patted Oliver on the back, "That's my boy!" And then he turned to the few people that were still in the room, including his wife Susan and exclaimed, "That's my boy!"

It was perhaps the closest the two men had ever been, which made Susan wonder if her son should really be in harm's way. On the one hand, she wanted her husband to president more than anything she had wanted in her life. It would be the icing on her family's cake after all of their years of working what they believed was viable candidates. On the other hand, she wasn't so sure that all of his dirty business was a place for her squeaky-clean son. He had seemed to remain distant from the entire process all of his life and never had an aggressive bone in his body. But now Brian had decided to move his son up the chain in a different direction.

It was definitely arrogance on a day when Brian was feeling invincible to position his son to follow in his footsteps. He had witnessed for years the boy spending much time with his grandfather, but now Brian appeared to be calling in his chips. He thought, "No son of mine is going to be driving in the middle lane when I'm blowing past him to his left. Nothing ever gets accomplished in life unless you are willing to put your foot on the gas and really accelerate! Waiting for things to happen is like admitting to yourself that you don't want anything to happen! Only fools sit idly by while people of action take what they want, when they want!"

Brian was the alpha male of the house and Susan wondered how long he would be willing to share the limelight and the left lane with a brand new Chevy Camaro zooming top speed and riding up his ass. If history had any bearing on the outcome, Oliver would eventually have to back off risk being run off the road. It was a risk that Susan had to take because her first priority was her husband the candidate, not the son who was going through some growing pains and had plenty of time in life to lick and heal his wounds.

Hartwell

Susan's parents, Meyer and Evelyn Green, had remained in the money for the simple reason of being connected to every source of power. They proved that the power was not in the rays but the sun itself.

"People always want to look at the obvious but it is never that obvious," Evelyn Green said to her daughter one day over afternoon tea. She saw the puzzled look on her daughter's face and figured it was time to put on her scuba gear and dive a little deeper.

"For instance, we have backed all of these politicians over the years and none of them did a single thing of impact once they left office."

"Then why did you pick those people in the first place?" Susan asked.

And then the reality dawned on Susan even before her mother answered, but she let her speak anyway.

"Do you remember when I told you that Brian was the one?" Evelyn inquired.

"Was that before or after we fixed you?" Susan recollected.

"I think it was after. Before that, you opened your legs without purpose for that man every time he summoned you."

Susan thought back to the days when Brian was able to manipulate her with his three-laned mind games.

"I barely even remembered sleeping with him, let alone being in his office," Susan stated.

"I told you to go to and see Solomon if you had to talk to someone, but you got lost and walked into the wrong door," mom said.

"He was so cute!" Susan replied like she was a teenager crushing on a boy.

Evelyn smiled and then said, "Yes he is, but the more he talks the more the uglier he gets. I wish there were a way to get him to say only what he has to say, what we want him to say?" she added in a tone that suggested she already had the answer.

"Why don't we take him to the same place you took me?" Susan asked.

Evelyn acted outraged, "If you're suggesting I took you someplace, I did no such thing!"

"Then why can't he guide me what to do anymore?" Susan asked.

Evelyn waved her daughter off, "That's not important! What is important is that you are able to think independently. There's nothing worse than a woman at the beckon call of a man."

"Evelyn!" Meyer Green bellowed from the next room. "Did you still need me to drive you to the store?"

Susan looked at her mom like she had discovered the meaning of life, "Did you have him fixed, too?"

Meyer ducked into the room and smiled, "What could be better than this, lamb chop?"

Susan smiled back, but she had absolutely no idea of the gravity of the situation and who her parents really were.

Only days after announcing his run for the presidency, Brian wandered out of his house and walked across town to the sleepy coast of Beach Haven, New York. He was walking for almost two hours as passers-by honked their horns and waved at the person who they thought would be the next leader of the free world. He nodded and waved because that was the information that was programmed inside of his head from the source.

Brian kept walking until he came to a stop in front of an old abandoned warehouse, which looked like it hadn't been occupied for a few decades. He stepped through the door, which was half off its hinge, and then slowly regained his senses after walking to the middle of the cavernous space.

"What the..." Brian mumbles and then is about to turn and walk out until a voice is heard, "I wouldn't do that if I was you."

"Who is there?! he yells. "I demand to know why you're keeping me here!"

And then, out of the shadows of the broken window-lit warehouse, a tall man with a trench coat and a New York Yankees baseball hat appeared.

"First of all, if you know what's good for you you'll lower your voice. Secondly, you walked here with your own two feet, although I did have something to do with guiding you to this spot."

"Who are you?" an always-cocky Brian questioned.

"I think the better question, my son, is who are you?" the man replied.

"I am Brian Stephens!"

The man rolled his eyes and then two chairs appeared in the middle of the room and he sat down. He then motioned for Brian to take a seat opposite him and Brian acquiesced after some initial hesitation.

"My name is Thomas Hartwell," the man stated as he extended his long right arm to greet someone he had witnessed growing from the ground up.

Stephens hesitated at first and then realized that it would be wise to return the greeting, "Brian Stephens."

Hartwell say back in his chair and said, "Somehow I thought you would be taller," the 6' 4" man suggested. I've known your dad for a long time and admire his work." And then Hartwell went for the jugular like he had done so many times in his existence when a neck was exposed. "But, while I am impressed with your powers of persuasion, I fear that you are going down a dark road, a road that will lead to your demise."

Brian was all New York with his aggressive posture and response, "Who are you again?!"

Hartwell didn't flinch, "I am Thomas Hartwell."

"Yeah, I got that but you do know that I am going to be the next president of the United States?"

Hartwell looked deep into Brian's soul and was intrigued by what he discovered. He spoke internally to his son Daniel, "Can you come in here and check this guy out for me?"

Daniel zipped into the main room of the beautifully-decorated house and hovered next to his father while facing Brian.

"Hey, isn't that the guy who is running for president?" Daniel asked his dad.

"Yeah, that's him,' Hartwell internally voiced.

Daniel scanned Brian and then stated, "Whoa! That's some dark, empty space!"

"Right?!" Hartwell replied.

"Good luck with that," Daniel countered and then zipped back out of the room.

And then Hartwell refocused on Brian, "You're awfully sure about your position. I don't think you are fully analyzing the situation."

Brian sized up Hartwell and—even though he was sitting in the middle of an abandoned warehouse with a sizeable man that he had never met before—then proceeded to do what he always did, influence others to see his point of view. He saw Hartwell as a classic left lane cruiser and sought to help him transition to the middle lane, which would clear the way for Brian to leave this wretched place. But, before Brian could say "Might you be more comfortable in a master bedroom or a mortuary?" Hartwell froze him in his tracks.

He called his oldest acquaintances, Garrison and Thaddeus, and asked, "Look at the set of cajones on this guy." And then he unfroze Brian and he said, "Might you be more comfortable in a master bedroom or a mortuary?"

"Why would he be more comfortable in a mortuary?" his protector Garrison asked Brian, who could see and hear both guys in addition to Hartwell.

"Where did these guys come from?" Brian asked as his runaway train started sliding off the tracks. "Messy situations often meet resolution through mediation," and then he followed up with "Rather be reading at an ice rink," thinking he would settle for either middle of right lane movement.

"What is this guy talking about?" Thaddeus the hunter asked Garrison, who then chimed in, "Isn't that Solly's kid?"

"Oh, yeah! I couldn't see that through all of his powers of manipulation," Thad replied.

"If he keeps doing this and remains in denial, I might need for you guys to rough him up a bit," Hartwell said to the two men.

"Okay boss, we'll be in the garage if you need us," Gary replied as the two men walked out of the room and out of Brian's sight.

Brian continued to spout 'm'\- and 'r'-laden statements as he sank deeper into confusion and anxious thoughts.

"Did you see how I did that?" Hartwell said to Brian.

"Did what?" Brian replied.

"I got you to change lanes without even talking to you directly. Your dad taught me that."

"How are you?!" Brian asked again, but this time with a little more urgency.

Hartwell was tired of the questions and reached across and cupped Brian's forehead in his massive right hand. Stephens was then treated to a highlight reel of Hartwell's life, from his time as a successful businessman in turn-of-the-20th century San Francisco to his transition and subsequent existence as a blood shadow.

Hartwell removed his hand-clamp from Brian's forehead and then sat back and waited for the shock-and-awe reaction.

"Holy crap! You're a vampire!" Brian yelled as he jumped out of his chair.

"Did somebody say vampire?" Daniel said as he zipped back into the room.

"Who is this? Another vampire?" Brian asked.

"Yes, I am a vampire," Daniel replied. "And I don't appreciate your tone, Mr. Stephens." And then he turned to his father and said, "I'm not voting for this guy!" as he zipped out of the room without his feet even touching the floor.

And then Brian flashed on memories of his wife and in-laws, with the focus of his brain-blast being his inability to influence their thoughts and actions.

"Oh, my god! They are vampires, too!"

Hartwell dipped into Brian's thoughts and then said, "Yes they are."

"Did you do this, Thomas?"! an outraged Brian asked.

"Most people call me Hartwell and no, I didn't turn your wife and her parents. You should know more than anyone that everything in life has a price and I am still paying for the mistakes of my enemies."

"And what's the price for you becoming a vampire?" Brian asked.

Hartwell replied, "After 100 deaths we become mortal again."

"So, you're saying that my wife and in-laws would return to their mortal state after I killed them 100 times?"

"I am in no way suggesting that you kill them 100 times. In fact, I would prefer if you didn't kill them at all," Hartwell countered.

"Are the mob guys vampires, too?" Brian inquired.

"No! How could you come into my house..." and then Hartwell revealed that they were standing in his house, not an abandoned warehouse, before switching the view back to the more dire of the two, "and insinuate that those creatures could have anything to do with us?"

Hartwell grabbed Brian and zoomed out of the house before Brian could fake an apology. On the split-second ride back to Brian's house, Hartwell wiped the politician's memory clean, except for a desire to kill his wife and parents. He thought that they would appreciate the comic relief of a mortal trying to off them. Hartwell left Brian on the front walk and then whisked away, his speed concealing that he was ever there.

Brian rubbed his eyes and head like he had just awoken from a bad dream, the details of which he couldn't recall. He refocused on the front door and walked straight up to the bedroom to take his first nap in years, which lasts 36 hours.

Holy War

Susan Green Stephens and her parents, Evelyn and Meyer, stood over a sleeping Brian and anxiously waited for him to wake up.

"We have all of these campaign stops scheduled," Evelyn said to Susan. "When do you think he'll wake up?"

"Where did he disappear to the other day?" Meyer asked.

"I have no idea. He was gone for hours and people said they saw him walking and waving to them while they drove by him in cars. I guess he was tired from the walk."

"He didn't say anything to you?" always-distrusting Evelyn asked.

Susan shrugged her shoulders, "He was sleeping when I returned from my Pilates class."

The mother never let up on the daughter, especially with so much at stake, "I don't know why you even have to exercise? Don't you know we're naturally gifted now?"

Susan glared at her mother and the thought of ripping her vocal cords out of her throat entered her mind, but then her husband moved and it appeared he was coming out of his extended slumber.

"Honey, are you all right?" Susan asked as she quickly transitioned from blood-thirsty vampire to loving wife.

"We're all concerned about you," Evelyn stated.

"Yeah, champ. We thought you were down for the count," Meyer added.

Brian tried to regain his focus as he sat up. His wife handed him a bottle of water and then he unscrewed the top and drank all 22 ounces in one breath. He was famished and all he wanted was to become more powerful.

Brian stood up and looked down at the other three people in the room and said, "Why do I have this overwhelming desire to kill all of you?" and then walked past them and out of the room.

Evelyn looked at Meyer and he looked at his wife and then Susan and they all grunted with a tinge of anger and anxiety in their voices, "Hartwell."

Brian felt he had taken his method as far as it would go without adding a little extra to his being.

"Are you with me or against me?" Brian asked his wife Susan as they sat down for breakfast.

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked. "I've been with you from the beginning!"

"No, you've been using me to get what you want from the beginning!" he yelled back. "Why don't you just let me in on your dirty little secret before I go out and do something in character and crazy?"

Susan was tired of playing games so she decided to go against her mother's wishes for like the thousandth time, "I'm a vampire."

Brian slowed his role for a moment and then asked, "Ev and Meyer, too?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Why not me?" Brian asked, never wanting to be left out of anything no matter how incredible the consequences.

And before Susan could give him a reason against it, he touched her forehead and released Hartwell's highlight real, which included a clip of how Lowery turned Hartwell in the first place. She quickly downloaded the knowledge and then lunged at Brian without hesitation, lodging her razor-sharp fangs into his neck. As Susan drained Brian and he was approaching death, she bit into the tip of her finger and let him drink her blood, which quickly nursed him back to health.

Brian stood up with blood still trickling out of his neck and said, "Wow! I haven't felt this good in years!"

She smirked and said, "Hold that thought," as she moved behind him and then snapped his neck in one decisive motion. Susan got a hold of Brian and controlled his fall to the kitchen floor and then moved his body to a remote corner of the living room. His hard drive downloaded the vampire protocol in 20 minutes and then he was given a tutorial of the evolutionary tract of his natural enemy, the hunter, and his protector, who would now come on line and be part of his life. Brian's eyes opened and Hartwell and his crew instantly became aware of the development.

"I think we're back in business again," Hartwell said to his protector Garrison and hunter Thaddeus, who had somehow settled their cosmic differences.

"Looks like a small job, boss" Gary stated.

"Yeah, it's just the four of them," Thad said. "Is that all that is left of Lowery?"

"I think so," Hartwell replied. "But, Brian Stephens does nothing on a small scale. I can feel his energy surging and his brain planning the next revolution."

The next 100 days leading up to the election became somewhat of an unholy war between Hartwell and the extended Green family, which included Brian Stephens. Hartwell's sire and former nemesis, Alexander Lowery, was turning just about everyone into a vampire when he previously returned to Beach Haven, and the Green trio was among his converts. Hartwell had cleaned up the Lowery mess and only the group of three was left to clear the polluted slate, or so he initially thought.

The next 100 days leading up to the presidential debates became somewhat of an unholy conflict between Hartwell and the extended Green family, which included Brian Stephens. Hartwell's sire and former nemesis, Alexander Lowery, was turning just about everyone into a vampire when he returned to Beach Haven years earlier, and the Green trio was among his converts. Hartwell had cleaned up most of the Lowery mess and only the group of three was left to clear the polluted slate, or so he initially thought.

The first night of the battle was perhaps the most innocent of the 100, but it started Brian on a mission to gain more power.

"I didn't think I'd be saying this, but it feels good to get back out there again," Thaddeus Brewster said to Thomas Hartwell and Garrison Phillips as they sat in the main room of the house just minutes before midnight.

"Do you think we should ask Cal to go?" Gary asked the other two men, but he was really asking Hartwell, not Cal's father Thaddeus.

And before Hartwell could answer, Cal came zipping into the room, causing a breeze to flow through the room.

"Did someone mention my name?" Cal asked with all of the enthusiasm of a grade-school kid waiting to go out with his slid into the fresh snow.

"You see, you mention his name and then he's in the room," Hartwell said and then he turned to Calvin Brewster, his hunting nemesis in days before the peace, "Cal, would you like to go out with us tonight?"

Back in 1902 San Francisco, a distressed Hartwell took to the cobblestone streets demanding an explanation from the heavens for taking away his wife and young son. People were running frantically throughout the streets—some were escaping the Black Plague, while others were trying to avoid the deadly bite of a creature just as devastating as any disease.

Hartwell was so distraught that he returned to his house and strongly considered taking his own life, but a knock on the door temporarily stopped him from pulling the trigger.

"Please go away!" Hartwell yelled as he picked up his heavy gun and pointed it toward his head.

"Don't do it," the voice of Alexander Lowery calmly said from the other side of the door. "I have a way that you will be able to see your wife and son again."

Hartwell had truly run out of options. It was either blow his brains out, or listen to a voice promising full restitution. He walked to the door and lowered the gun to his side, "How do I know you're not one of vile things that bite people?"

"I'm offended," Lowery said. "How do I know that you're not lousy with the plague?"

Hartwell nodded his head in understanding, "Well, how can I get my family back?" he said as he lodged the gun against the door.

Lowery literally wasn't born yesterday, "You're going to have to let me in to find that out, Thomas Hartwell. What other choice do you have?"

Hartwell reflected briefly on the events of his life and then looked over at the loaded gun. He opened the door and said, "Okay, you can come in," which unlocked his last seal of protection in the mortal world.

While Hartwell kept a tight grip on the gun, the distinguished-looking gentleman walked in slowly, hardly befitted the demeanor or aggressive tendencies of a savage beast. Lowery's beige wool, three-piece suit, well-groomed mustache, and classic bowler hat that he removed and held in his hand, lessened Hartwell's anxiety as it had for the hundreds of his unsuspecting victims. He then conveyed the mental message, "You can put the gun away. We are all friends here."

So Hartwell put the gun in the top drawer of his desk and asked, "Can I get you anything, friend? I'm going to put up some tea."

Lowery reached down into his vest pocket and pulled out a gold pocket watch, which he had picked up along the way. He opened the engraved latch and realized that his window of opportunity was closing fast. Surely the hunters were tracking his scent and would be closing in within minutes.

Hartwell walked back into the room and was instructed to sit next to the man on the couch.

"My name is Alexander Lowery and I am here to offer you eternal

life." Lowery thought for a moment and then decided to slightly alter his claim, "In any event, you can last pretty long if you eat people on a high fiber diet and do your best to avoid those persistent hunters."

Hartwell didn't really care about himself and his life at this point,

"What about my wife and son?"

Lowery's hair was slicked back and finely combed as he stroked his moustache before speaking in a dramatic tone, "Your boy shall rise again on the moon of the new century. Oh, and your wife should be along in another eight to 10 moons after that."

Hartwell was confused, "How long is a moon?"

Lowery replied, "A moon is about a year in most circles, give or take a few months. In Germany..." he started before screams and heavy bangs could be heard in the street below.

A muscular fellow wearing a finely-tailored suit burst into the room, "My food fellow, you might want to speed things up a bit!"

Lowery's eyes transformed from brown to orange and razor-sharp fangs sprouted from the upper and lower portions of his mouth, as he ferociously bit into the right side of Hartwell's neck. The searing pain Hartwell initially felt was replaced by the euphoria of seeing his wife and son waiting for him in the distance. Lowery quickly drained Hartwell's blood and then opened the vein on his right wrist to keep Hartwell from dying, "No, not just yet. You have some work to do before you see them."

Hartwell drank the blood from Lowery's wrist as if he was a baby with a bottle. Only this 'formula' was the bridge from mortality to immortality, from man to monster.

"Two other things," Lowery said. "I dripped a little blood—clumsy me—on the couch, so you might want to treat that when you come to. And, the second thing is—and this one's real important, so get your hearing shoes on—after you die 100 times you become mortal again."

There was a huge thump on the front door of the building and Lowery hastened to finish the job, as his ally rushed toward his side.

"Good luck, Hartwell," he said, as he removed his arm from near Hartwell's mouth and then snapped his neck, all in one motion.

"We have to go," the large man said to Lowery, as Hartwell dropped to the floor. Lowery and his accomplice zipped out the window and into the sky, narrowly escaping a group of aggressive hunters that burst into the room.

Days came and went and Hartwell hadn't moved from the same position—pancaked flat on his back. This time around, his inactivity was accompanied by breath, and breath was guided by a virtual training manual playing as the main feature in his mind.

Scenes of unsuspecting men and women shockingly looking into the eye of a creature while it devoured them from the neck were interwoven with a life portrayed as one that was constantly in motion, constantly on the run.

While the pursuer was never presented in a distinct manner, the ally was: the mammalian being was part man, part evolutionary wonder. Hartwell's subconscious was treated to a lengthy reel of the evolutionary tract of cetaceans—from their early days as hoofed creatures with triangular teeth like wolves, to cat-like creatures, to early variations of the hippopotamus, to bottlenose dolphins and Orca, the 'killer whale', which is the largest species of dolphin. The hybrid mammal also had the ability to convert to a smaller aquatic mammal, capable of diving into water and hiding beneath the surface to avoid birds of prey.

The images left the reprogrammed Hartwell feeling safe and protected until he spent the last 24 hours viewing footage of his natural enemy, the hunter. Hunters had also evolved from Homo sapien warriors, to beings capable of combating adversaries both on land and in the sky. The loop that kept playing over and over again was that of a man running through a forest clearing and changing into an angry pit bull, and then a powerful ram as it picked up speed, and then a huge grizzly bear with knife-like claws capable of running at speeds up to 30 miles per hour, and then the massive wing span of a hawk capable of picking up small animals with its hook-like talons.

After each iteration, the ending image was one of the beach and more specifically, the ocean, and the word 'SAFETY' flashing on the screen. The hunters were physiologically-designed to combat the vampires, with their full set of evolutionary incantations, but they had not fully evolved. But years of being thrown through the 'rinse cycle' was finally paying off, proving that 'through strife comes change.'

Hartwell had already gone through his full cycle of 100 deaths and was reinstated to vampiracy by his son Daniel—who was reborn, as advertised, by Lowery, along with his mother Maggie, who returned to Beach Haven as the high school's librarian—after a brief respite. The family of vampires and protectors continued to be pursued by the hunters until a new generation was born into the fray.

Back in main room of Hartwell's house, Cal was digging for more information about their new opponent.

"So, who are we fighting tonight?"

Hartwell laughed, "Fighting might be a loose interpretation of what will be happening tonight."

"Why is that?" Cal asked.

"Because these people have never fought before," his father Thaddeus replied.

"At least not with their hands," Gary added in jest.

The elder men laughed and Cal was still trying to stay in full combat mode.

"You know that guy Stephens that is running for president?" Hartwell asked Cal.

"Yeah, the guy is a tool," Cal grunted.

"Well, his wife and her parents were turned by Lowery when he came back to town," Hartwell stated.

Cal acted surprised, "I thought we got all of Lowery's disciples?!"

"So did we" Hartwell replied as he looked at Gary and Thad as they walked out of the house into the starry night.

"These people didn't care about Lowery, they just wanted the power," Gary said.

And then Cal asked the logical question as they started to jog in order to get loose on their way to the great lawn of Beach Haven Park.

"What about Stephens?"

"It's probably only a matter of time before he either tries to tap into their power or they enlist him because we're kicking their butts so bad," Thad explained.

The quartet picked up speed as they neared the park and the trio of Susan, Evelyn and Meyer Green were also headed to the great lawn, although they weren't as organized as their foes.

"Why are we going out at midnight again?" early-to-sleep Evelyn asked her husband, who was just as grouchy.

"Because we've been called out," Meyer replied.

"By whom?" proper Susan asked, never thinking that their vampiracy would ever be discovered.

Her husband Brian was always lurking and sneaking and this night was no different. He might have been a presidential candidate on the verge of actually controlling the populace, but he was still a distrusting, creepy guy who happened to be eavesdropping on the conversation taking place at his in-laws house. Since he had left Hartwell's house he fought the overwhelming desire to kill his wife and her parents because he didn't feel strong enough yet to complete the job.

"By Hartwell!" Meyer replied.

Susan ran the familiar name through her mental database until a 3-D rendering of Hartwell was shown in a 360-degree view with the word "ENEMY" in bold letters over his head.

Lowery always had a contingency plan, although he really didn't anticipate going after Hartwell with his large family and then losing in the end. He was killed for the 100th time at the end of the battle and then his body was separated from his head when he awoke the next morning as a mortal—done in by his own protector, Abraham Ellison, who had had enough of his callous and vengeful ways.

Ellison dipped his sword in the pool and the red from the blood floated ominously across the water's surface. He had been waiting all night for his vampire to arise from his 100th death and take his place among the ranks of the mortals. There was no discussion, no words of parting, or speeches of regret, as Ellison held his former superior's head and made a powerful cut to his new life—a life of solitude as a normal man living on his own terms.

"I have seen that guy!" Susan yelled. "Doesn't he live in Beach Haven?"

"Yes, and that's where we're headed, the great lawn of Beach Haven Park," Meyer stated as the three of them left the house and started jogging across town to Beach Haven. Before they left the house, Brian ran out to his car and sped over to the park, but his exit did not go unnoticed.

Evelyn smelled in the air and then said to her daughter, "Is your husband snooping around again? When was the last time you saw a future leader of the free world sneaking around to spy on his in-laws?"

Brian raced through the park and took a position behind a tall row of bushes adjacent to the great lawn. While he wasn't sure what he was there to see, he knew that it would not be a normal night in the neighborhood.

Both sides moved faster than the speed of light toward the park and then took of facing positions on the huge lawn. A battle usually was initiated as both sides hurtled toward each other destined for a massive crash. But on this night, and battles took place at night in order to avoid unwanted spectators in this sleepy town, Susan Green simply yelled, "Thomas Hartwell, make yourself known!"

Hartwell wasn't one for trash talk, and neither were his counterparts on either side of him, but Hartwell was the only one who took immediate action. He zoomed across the field, the fingernail of his right index finger becoming longer with each moment, and angled from left to right and then returned to his place across the field with Thaddeus, Garrison and Calvin.

"You guys ready to go," Hartwell said with a hint of sarcasm as the watched the heads of Susan, Meyer and Evelyn separate from their shoulders and roll across the moist ground. Brian gasped and then he became a target of the surviving group.

"Who is that guy watching from the bushes?" Cal asked, and Hartwell answered "Brian Stephens" just as Brian was flung in front of him by Cal.

"Yeah, we all noticed him before Sir Slice-a Lot moved across the field," Thaddeus explained.

"Who are you people?" Brian yelled.

""We're you're worst nightmare come true, "Mr. Stephens," Gary replied.

"Then I want to be just like you," a resolute Brian shot back.

Hartwell simply shook his head back and forth with a stiff upper lip as the foursome exited the park without saying another word.

"We gotta' do something about that guy before he becomes a problem," Cal stated as his father said, "Let's stop and get a drink before we head home."

They moved toward the Beach Haven Pub and were sitting in stools at the bar with four pints of ale in front of then when Hartwell said, "In due time, gentlemen. In due time."

Even Stephens

Brian was a bit disappointed to see his wife return to their bed the next morning just after the sun rose. The rays of the sun restored Susan and her parents in the field of Beach Haven Park, with the pain of healing being excruciating after the first time coming back on line.

They proceeded to go out to the park over the next 25 consecutive days with a similar result, although the physical pain became a little less while the mental anguish only escalated.

"We have to do something or we are headed back toward mortality, Meyer!" a frustrated and incensed Evelyn Green exclaimed after waking up on the park lawn another morning after a quick defeat.

Meyer glared at his wife and then his daughter said, "At the very least, we have to make this four on four."

"Yes, four on four!" Evelyn repeated as if the extra player would somehow give them a fighting chance.

Meyer took all of the information in and then replied, "Are you suggesting that we finally bring him off the bench?"

"Him?" Evelyn thought about and then was about to say "Never, not Brian!" but she wasn't really thinking clearly. So she zipped over to Brian and Susan's house and brought back Brian in her hands.

"It's about time!" Brian exclaimed. The sound of his voice must have triggered something deep in Evelyn because she almost bit into his neck and removed his voice box so he would forever stop talking. But, instead, she just bled him to the point of expiration and then snapped his neck so he could be rebooted.

"We probably should have talked about it before you turned him," Meyer suggested.

Evelyn left the room momentarily and replaced her bloody white blouse with a fresh one, continuing the fastidious nature of the vampire sect.

"Now he's going to be on equal footing with us," Meyer added.

"I could cut his head off before he comes to," Evelyn stated.

"Then we'll lose our candidate," Susan responded, as her mother contracted the long index finger nail on her left hand.

"Yeah, we don't want to do that," Evelyn replied.

Later that evening, the four neophytes were getting prepared to head out for battle number 26 fully believing they would have a better chance at getting on the scoreboard. However, Thaddeus said to Hartwell, as Garrison and Cal listened, "They're coming at us with four tonight."

Always-brash Cal interjected, "So! They can double and triple their numbers and still not have a chance."

The men laughed and Hartwell replied, "He's probably right," as overconfidence had set in for the more experienced crew.
The eight combatants walked, then jogged, then ran out to the field and this time there was no hesitation on either side.

"Let's play this straight up," Hartwell said to his crew. "We could all use a little workout." He then thought about a conversation he had with his wife Maggie earlier in the day.

"You guys fighting again?" she asked.

Hartwell was ready to deny Maggie's claim but he saw by the look in her eyes that this would probably not be the best course of action. They had been together for a few generations and no secrets remained between them.

"Yes" he simply replied.

"Why didn't you tell everyone?" Maggie questioned, knowing that their strength in numbers had been the difference in many precious conflicts.

"It was a small thing and everyone has been doing so well for months since our last uprising."

"Who is it this time?" she asked.

"Still Lowery," he replied.

"I thought we cleaned up all of that last time."

"I did, too. You know that local presidential candidate Brian Stephens?"

"Yeah," she said.

"It was his wife and her parents... and now him, too," Hartwell stated.

"Are you saying that Susan Green Stephens is a vampire?" she asked.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since the last time Lowery came to town," he replied.

"How can it be that I have been in meetings with her and never knew she was a vampire? As a vampire, I usually can tell when there are other people like us around, but I got nothing off her."

"That's strange. She must be using some kind of cloaking device like the one we use on this house."

She smiled, "Can I go with you guys tonight?"

He replied, "Well..."

"That wasn't really a question as much as it was an actuality," she interjected.

He nodded, "Why don't you come and observe at first and see if you can sense her."

"Okay," the pacifist replied. "You know how I feel about fighting unless it is completely necessary."

Maggie took a position similar to that of Brian weeks earlier, and waited anxiously for the clash of the titans to begin. She had been a spectator for this type of thing before, but there was something different about it this time around because they had become peaceful people without the chance of confrontation.

She looked on as her people crashed into Susan, Evelyn, Meyer and Brian. It was the first time that Brian had shown up for active duty and he really liked the contact. Hartwell had already predetermined that he would square off with Brian, because he felt like the cocky politician could use a healthy dose of humility. Thaddeus went at Meyer, Maggie stared down Evelyn and Garrison had the honor of giving Susan a taste of the good life.

The eight combatants walked, then jogged, then ran out to the field and this time there was no hesitation on either side.

"Let's play this straight up," Hartwell said to his crew. "We could all use a little workout." He then thought about a conversation he had with his wife Maggie earlier in the day.

"You guys fighting again?" she asked.

Hartwell was ready to deny Maggie's claim but he saw by the look in her eyes that this would probably not be the best course of action. They had been together for a few generations and no secrets remained between them.

"Yes" he simply replied.

"Why didn't you tell everyone?" Maggie questioned, knowing that their strength in numbers had been the difference in many precious conflicts.

"It was a small thing and everyone has been doing so well for months since our last uprising."

"Who is it this time?" she asked.

"Still Lowery," he replied.

"I thought we cleaned up all of that last time."

"I did, too. You know that local presidential candidate Brian Stephens?"

"Yeah," she said.

"It was his wife and her parents... and now him, too," Hartwell stated.

"Are you saying that Susan Green Stephens is a vampire?" she asked.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since the last time Lowery came to town," he replied.

"How can it be that I have been in meetings with her and never knew she was a vampire? As a vampire, I usually can tell when there are other people like us around, but I got nothing off her."

"That's strange. She must be using some kind of cloaking device like the one we use on this house."

She smiled, "Can I go with you guys tonight?"

He replied, "Well..."

"That wasn't really a question as much as it was an actuality," she interjected.

He nodded, "Why don't you come and observe at first and see if you can sense her."

"Okay," the pacifist replied. "You know how I feel about fighting unless it is completely necessary."

Maggie took a position similar to that of Brian weeks earlier, and waited anxiously for the clash of the titans to begin. She had been a spectator for this type of thing before, but there was something different about it this time around because they had become peaceful people without the chance of confrontation.

She looked on as her people crashed into Susan, Evelyn, Meyer and Brian. It was the first time that Brian had shown up for active duty and he really liked the contact. Hartwell had already predetermined that he would square off with Brian, because he felt like the cocky politician could use a healthy dose of humility. Usually in fights such as this, one person from each side would be the trigger to when the fight would be over. The goal for the Green clan was to kill Hartwell and the home team would have to off Brian if they were to be successful and the fight was to end.

Thad scared off against Evelyn Green, Gary and Susan tussled and Cal and Meyer were paired in this four-pack of battles. Hartwell could have easily just cut Brian's head off without expending too much energy, but he decided to play with the newbie for a few minutes first.

"Let's see what you got, junior," Hartwell said as he stood in an old-school boxing stance.

Brian did not remember Hartwell from the day he walked across town and to Hartwell's house, so he offered no sense of respect for his new foe as he laughed, "Are you serious, grandpa'?"

The other battles stopped momentarily and the other six combatants shook their heads in disbelief over Brian's inability to ever back up. He then followed it up with a series of words that he thought would transition Hartwell from the aggressive left lane to the passive right lane.

"It's right for you to belief you can rumble with me."

This time Hartwell was the one who was chuckling as he looked at the other people in the field and they all laughed. Meanwhile, Brian extended the nail of his right index finger and was about to take advantage of the pregnant pause in the action by beheading Hartwell. Since this wasn't Hartwell's first rodeo, he looked away from Brian so that he could gauge his opponent's level of aggression and sense of fair play fully knowing that he would probably take full advantage of the opportunity.

Brian swiped his finger through the hitting zone and Hartwell ducked out of the way while corralling his wife, who instinctively left the sidelines to come to the aid of her one true love. She had seen her husband die and come back to life too many times to witness it again. Hartwell could feel Maggie coming toward him and saved her from a certain beheading or at the very least a fatal wound.

Brian's attempt at killing Hartwell set off a chain reaction of events that left Susan, Evelyn and Meyer as mere spectators for the next 10 seconds. Thaddeus and Cal sped behind Brian, Cal changing into a powerful ram and butting Brian into the air where he was caught by Thad the grizzly bear. Thad dug his claws into a surprised Brian's chest and then tossed him in the air toward Garrison, who changed from a frothy wolf, to a bottlenose dolphin—catching Brian on the tip of his nose and then tossing him up in the air—and then changing back to himself, "Pile on!" and then into an Orca killer whale.

Gary the whale pounced on Brian after he hit the ground, face and body first, and then Thad flew through the air as a grizzly bear and was second on the pile, followed by Cal, who changed from a ram to the massive wingspan of a hawk, sitting on his father's furry shoulder. The cumulative weight caused Brian to give in for perhaps the first time of his life, as all of the liquid in his body was expelled like a crushed jelly donut.

"Well, you don't see that every day!" Evelyn Green exclaimed, as her seemingly stressful day had taken an unsuspected humorous turn.

Hartwell's guys changed back into their human selves as Hartwell said to Maggie, "Thanks for coming to save me."

"Nobody messes with my man!" she replied as Hartwell nodded to the surviving member of the Green family, "See you tomorrow tonight."

Susan Green was happy to be involved in such an endeavor that her husband would always be the target of death and she and her family could compete without the fear of expiration, or so she thought, "We'll be here."

Oh Sibling, My Sibling

Back in the human world, Brian's presidential campaign had many volunteers but none as fervent as Gretchen Lantz, who for some unforeseen reason needed for Brian to be in charge. She volunteered for the job as promotional assistant on one of his earlier campaigns when she was 14 and had progressed to being social media manager at the tender age of 17.

Melanie Lantz had forgotten about her association with Brian Stephens the second he left her apartment on their wedding day. She raised her daughter Gretchen with the knowledge that her husband, who had tied tragically, was there in spirit if not body. Brian was so involved in his own world that he never realized that his own daughter had worked on his campaigns and was now an integral person in getting the word out about his candidacy.

Oliver had been working at campaign headquarters since he was in grade school and had ascended to the position of social media director, which meant that he was Gretchen Lantz's boss. This also meant that the two of them spent all of their free time together, either doing schoolwork or working on the campaign. There was an undeniable connection between the teens that neither one of them could fully understand, but they didn't waste time questioning it. When they worked together nothing else mattered and the world around them seemed to slip away. The first time Oliver became aware of it was when he sat down and ate lunch with his father one day.

"You and your assistant... what's her name?" Brian said.

"Gretchen," Oliver interjected.

"You two are getting pretty close," dog-with-fleas Brian suggested to his son.

Oliver remained serious and extremely protective, "We've been working together almost since the beginning."

"You should know that there are rules about socializing with subordinates," Brian said with a serious face and then broke down in laughter when he saw a concerned look on his son's face. "I'm just shittin' you! You should have seen the look on your face!"

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief because he was having thoughts about taking their relationship to the next level, which is exactly what Brian did when Oliver left his office. Being powerful also made Brian paranoid, so he had Oliver's assistant checked out, although he had no preconceived notions about what he might find about her family.

When Brian got the report on Gretchen Lantz, he barely noticed her last name until it came to the section of her lineage, complete with copy of her official birth certificate that read:

Father: Deceased

Mother: Melanie Lantz

And since he was the deceased father, Gretchen's association and interest in his campaigns started to make more sense. He yelled at his secretary, "Fetch my son, pronto!"

Oliver was on his way back to the campaign office from school and arrived five minutes later. He walked into his father's office and was in what appeared to be the best mood of his life, as he planned to kiss Gretchen later that day.

"What can I do you for?" he joked with his dad as he sat back in a Victorian chair and crossed his legs.

Brian barely noticed his son's mood and proceeded full steam ahead, "I want you to fire her immediately!" Brian yelled in his most authoritative voice.

"Fire who?" Oliver shot back in a mixture of confusion and denial.

"Whom," Brian replied.

"Whom?" Oliver questioned and then realized that his father the linguist was correcting his grammar.

"That Lance girl!" Brian grunted.

Oliver couldn't believe what he was hearing, "You want me to fire Gretchen?! She's a volunteer! You don't pay her anything and she does a great job!"

Brian thought about using a few transitional words to move his son out of the left lane but decided to have a real conversation for a change—unless Oliver took it too far.

"We're cutting back on our staff in advance of the debates and the election. There will be no time for us to do this when things get busier," was the best Brian could come up with.

And, just as Oliver stood up and was going to voice his objection, although words were not immediately at his disposal, Brian literally shut the door, "And if you have a problem with that, don't bother coming back yourself!"

Oliver stomped of his father's spacious office and the building and hopped into his shiny sports car, jetting over to his grandfather's house.

The timing of his arrival was in sync with the tensing grains of sand in Solomon's hourglass. Oliver walked through the front gate because he knew his grandfather would be sitting on his favorite chair on the back patio.

"He wants me to fire Gretchen!" Oliver exclaimed as he entered the backyard.

While it wasn't conventional to fire volunteers unless they were disruptive, Solomon knew it was commonplace to dig up dirt on people and then use it against them. It was his son's view of life that everyone had to pay complete attention to him that led Solomon to believe that his Oliver and his assistant had become too close for him not to a background check on her. Solomon also knew all along that Gretchen was Brian daughter and Oliver's sister, and there would be a time when the teens would have to be let in on the family's little secret.

Gretchen was drawn to Oliver and needed to be around him even if she had no idea why she was doing it. Their proximity also caused another problem that became instantly clear to Brian: his son had a look in his eye that was very familiar when it came to Gretchen. A look that Grandpa' Solomon had also noticed and became concerned about weeks earlier.

"I think I'm gonna' ask her to the movies," Oliver said.

Solomon knew he was treading a dangerous line between protecting his grandson from going out with his sister and alienating his grandson with discouraging advice.

"What's the rush? You two kids are young," was the best Solomon could come up with at the time. And then having his grandson crash into his sanctuary and reveal that the cat was finally out of the bag caused him great distress. He grasped his chest as if a full-grown elephant had taken a seat on it. He looked over at Oliver and the younger Stephens instinctively ran over to make a diving catch of the sinking Solomon, who had only a few breaths left.

"Call Hartwell," Solomon grunted.

Oliver reached for his phone and his grandfather grabbed his arm, "No, out there," he said gazing at the sky.

"Hartwell!!! Hartwell!!! Hartwell!!!" Oliver yelled into the sky as if he was portraying a human bat signal.

"I love you, O," Solomon whispered as he faded.

Oliver started crying, "I love you, grandpa'!"

And then, with his breath fading and words could no longer be spoken, he reached for his phone and typed:

Tears of joy rolled out of Solomon's eyes and down his cheeks as his body is about to shut down. The world then went black for both men, Solomon thinking he had expired and Oliver hoping all that transpired was part of a dream gone badly. First, he was told to fire his soul mate and then he had to watch his favorite person in the world die.

Solomon was out cold on a couch and his subconscious tapped in to a lengthy reel of the evolutionary tract of cetaceans—from their early days as hoofed creatures with triangular teeth like wolves, to cat-like creatures, to early variations of the hippopotamus, to bottlenose dolphins and Orca, the 'killer whale', which is the largest species of dolphin. The hybrid mammal also had the ability to convert to a smaller aquatic mammal, capable of diving into water and hiding beneath the surface to avoid birds of prey.

Hunters had also evolved from Homo sapien warriors, to beings capable of combating adversaries both on land and in the sky. The loop that kept playing over and over again was that of a man running through a forest clearing and changing into an angry pit bull, and then a powerful ram as it picked up speed, and then a huge grizzly bear with knife-like claws capable of running at speeds up to 30 miles per hour, and then the massive wing span of a hawk capable of picking up small animals with its hook-like talons.

After each iteration, the ending image was one of the beach and more specifically, the ocean, and the word 'SAFETY' flashing on the screen. The hunters were physiologically-designed to combat the vampires, with their full set of evolutionary incantations, but they had not fully evolved. But years of being thrown through the 'rinse cycle' was finally paying off, proving that 'through strife comes change.'

Once Solomon's internal hard drive rebooted he came back on line and then jumped off the couch. His momentum carried him toward the window where he saw the beach and the water, and then he knew he was safe even if he wasn't as familiar with his surroundings.

Gretchen was walking toward campaign headquarters after school when she suddenly had the urge to make a left turn and head in a different direction. She saw Oliver in the distance and kept walking mile after mile to get to him.

Hartwell's son, Daniel, was hovering above a chair housing Oliver Stephens that was on the beach just outside the house. Daniel saw the 17 year-old coming to and came back to the ground, his bare feet gently nestling into the sand. He decided to come back down to earth in order to eliminate the first questions that were surely to be, "Who are you and how are you floating like that?"

Daniel took a few steps back in order to give Oliver and unimpeded view of the ocean. Brian opened his eyes and felt as if he had just completed his best sleep in years. The pressure of being Brian Stephens' son was always high, but had reached a new crescendo in recent months on the road to the White House. He looked out into the surf and felt both calm and safe in this environment. Oliver had always loved the beach and had spent more time over the past year since he got his car driving to the shore and walking the boardwalk.

He spent a good 20 seconds staring at the waves and then turned toward Daniel when the vampire made an internal communications connection, "You are among friends, Oliver."

Oliver thought, "I know, Daniel."

Daniel was surprised that the young man knew his name and said out loud, "How do you know my name?"

A calm Brian stood up and replied, "Because I can read your mind."

Daniel was confused, "How long have you been able to do that?" And then he realized they could communicate without even using words.

Brian thought, "The last few weeks or so."

Daniel thought, "That's about how long your father has been a vampire?"

"My father is a vampire?" Brian said out loud, because the surprise of the statement made his thoughts gush.

Daniel nodded in affirmation.

"Are you a vampire?" Brian asked.

Daniel nodded again.

"Am I a vampire?" he asked.

Daniel countered, "Do you want to be?"

"Is it cool?" Brian questioned.

"It was a bit of an adjustment at first" and then Daniel smiled, "but it is pretty cool."

Just then, Oliver senses that Gretchen was near and abandoned the vampirical conversation for the time being.

"What is Gretchen doing here and why are all of her thoughts blocked?" Oliver said.

He ran and attempted to meet her at the bottom of the driveway, but he was cut off by Maggie, Daniel's mother and Hartwell's wife.

"Hold on there, Oliver!" she exclaimed and then conveyed to Daniel that she should bring Oliver inside.

Daniel hovered off the ground and gently took hold of Oliver and zoomed him inside.

Oliver looked down and commented, "Are we hovering? That is so cool!"

Maggie removed her instructions from Gretchen's mind and the teen walked toward the water instead of asking the person in front of her what was going on. She mumbled, "Ollie was here."

"How did you know he was here?" Maggie as she followed Gretchen, who sat down in a chair and took in the sights.

"I can smell him. What town I am in?" Gretchen asked.

"Beach Haven," Maggie answered.

"Did I just walk all the way here, because my feet are burning up?"

Maggie consoled her, "Sorry about that. In hindsight I suppose it would have been better if I just picked you up."

Gretchen nodded as if she accepted Maggie's apology, "Well, now that I am here—wherever that is—the logical question is, what am I doing here?"

Maggie was so comfortable with herself and her surroundings that she hovered above the ground in an Indian sitting position. Gretchen didn't even notice that Maggie was floating until she started talking.

"You really like that boy, don't you?"

"Are you floating?" Gretchen asked because things weren't already ridiculous enough.

"Yeah, I find the ground to be a bit too hard at times and this seems to be better for my back," Maggie replied.

Gretchen nodded and replied, "Yes, I really do care for him."

Maggie, as a vampire, was used to going for the jugular, "And do you know why that is?"

Gretchen down-shifted into her whole teen, I'm drawing flowers and colorful things around our names world and answered, "I've liked him since I can remember, probably since the first time I saw him at campaign headquarters when were in middle school. Since then, I have always felt like we belonged together, like he was the other part of me that was missing."

Maggie nodded, "Okay, but do you know why that is?"

"I guess he's my soul-mate or something."

"Are you ready for the real story, my child?" Maggie asked and then gently brushed Gretchen's hair with her right hand before opening her palm on the girl's forehead, which triggered the real of her life just after conception. It started with her mother, Melanie, looking at a plus sign on a pregnancy test and then her mother being married to Brian Stephens by a justice of the peace. This was followed by Brian coming over and making Melanie forget he ever existed in her life and then Melanie telling her young daughter that her father had died in a fatal car crash.

The Antidote

While Maggie was busy consoling Gretchen outside, the action became quite live inside of casa de Hartwell. Daniel and Oliver floated inside and were greeted by Hartwell and Solomon, who floated over to greet them.

Oliver looked down and saw that the two men coming at him were also off the ground, although he didn't notice it at first because they were all eye-to-eye.

"Grandpa'!" an elated Oliver exclaimed at the sight of seeing his dying elder looking as good as ever. "How..." he started and then stopped talking after Daniel placed him on the ground and everyone else came down to his level.

"Why..." he started and then stopped again as he succumbed to the enormity of the moment.

Hartwell nodded at Daniel and his son escorted Oliver into q quiet room adjacent to the main room to become better adjusted.

"Do you think it's necessary to turn him, too?" Hartwell asked Solomon.

Solomon smiled, "Hey, I'm not going to live this long without him by my side. He's the reason I've lasted this long!"

Hartwell returned the smile because he knew how much his family had meant to him, "I hear you."

Daniel zipped into the kitchen and brought back some soda for Oliver as the neophyte tried to process everything that had just happened, from his grandfather's apparent demise to his sudden rebirth. Meanwhile, Maggie was bringing a tired and bewildered Gretchen into the house. Hartwell and Solomon had moved out the back screen door and were sitting on the porch, so the main room of the house was unusually empty. Instead of calling for her husband or trying to reach him internally, Maggie decided to put the exhausted teen in a quiet room to rest for a moment. A split-second earlier, Daniel had done the same thing to go find his wife Nicole.

Gretchen sat quietly in the middle of the room until she felt that someone else was in the room and sharing her quiet time.

"Is someone else there?" she asked as she scanned the dark room, which was staged to simulate maximum calm.

Oliver came out of his trance and let his senses do his thinking for a change. He took a big deep breath and came to the conclusion that a familiar friend was sharing time in the quiet room with him.

"Gretch, is that you?"

"Oliver?" she replied as she regained her faculties and stood up and instinctively moved toward him.

He stood up as well and moved toward her as the mood was set for a 'lover's only' skate if this was an ice or roller rink. They did not say another word as it was time for the physical to surmount the vocal after years of idle chatter. All of the special beings on the deck could feel a dramatic spike in body temperature inside of the house and the feelings that it was not a good thing was shared by all.

Lips were just a fraction of an inch from enjoining as the men tackled Oliver and the women brought Gretchen in the opposite direction toward the vaulted ceiling. The men looked like the U.S. Secret Service protecting the president, as Daniel, Hartwell and Solomon backed off Oliver and hovered next to him.

"What were you doing?!" an outraged Solomon asked in a tone that his grandson was not accustomed to from him.

"Grandpa?" Oliver questioned. He then blushed and replied, "We were just about to kiss before you interrupted us!"

The ladies floated back to the cushioned floor and Gretchen added, "We were so close!" Then she looked at Maggie and Nicole, "Do you know how long it took me to get to that point?!"

"Obviously not long enough," Nicole replied.

Gretchen and Oliver were now confused, "You wanted me to wait longer?" she asked.

The men brought Oliver toward the middle of the room so he was arm's length away from Gretchen. Solomon stepped forward and said, "I think there is no time better than the present to let you two in a little family secret."

Hartwell looked at Maggie and they nodded at each other, transfixed on the accelerating beats of the youngster's hearts.

The teens glanced at each to see if either one of them had advanced knowledge about what was going to be revealed, but that was not the case.

They returned to fix on Solomon who continued, "Before your mom and dad got together," Solomon said to Oliver, "he was with your mom," he turned and said to Gretchen. He got her pregnant and they were married by a justice of the peace at the county courthouse."

He then turned back to Oliver before Gretchen and stated, "But then your mom announced her intentions and Brian went back to the courthouse to destroy the marriage record and then to Melanie's apartment to use his mind powers to make her forget about him and only know a man that was her husband and your father that died in a tragic car crash."

Solomon let his words wash over the kids, "In reality that would mean that you two are really brother and sister. So, the answer to your question is that it took a long time for you two to pass the barrier of friendship because that was all you were meant to be in the first place."

Gretchen and Oliver looked at each other and instantly wanted to wipe away all of the illicit thoughts they had about each other with the force of a thousand sponges.

"Don't feel bad," Daniel clumsily said in order to break the silence, "there was a time when I had difficulty kissing Nicole."

"Yeah, but I wasn't your half-sister!" she shot back.

"But I made good when I finally did kiss you," he countered.

She smiled and thought back to the night of the sophomore dance and their passionate first kiss, "Yeah that was definitely worth the wait!"

Andrew Brewster, vampire hunter and the boy that was left out of the equation that night at the dance zipped into the room and said, "Are you two still talking about that kiss again?!"

And then his wife Carla followed closely behind him and said, "Thanks!" to Hartwell who had sent Drew running to the bathroom after spiking his punch with a laxative.

All of this banter gave Oliver and Gretchen a moment to adjust to the flash of news. Oliver was always the inquisitive one so he took the lead, "What is this all about?"

Solomon thought back to the conversations he had with Hartwell leading up to this day, and how they had decided that the direct approach would be the best approach.

"Your father is a vampire," he said to both teens and then waited for a reaction.

"Are you vampire?" Oliver asked his grandfather.

"I am now!" he replied.

"How is it?" Oliver inquired.

Solomon beamed, "I've never felt this good!"

Gretchen was a little weirded out, "Are all of you vampires?"

The vampires, Hartwell, Maggie and Daniel raised their hands and said, "I am a vampire."

She then turned her attention to Drew, Carla and Nicole, "Then what are you?"

"I am Daniel's protector and they are hunters," Nicole stated.

"Are they hunting vampires?" Gretchen asked.

Everyone else in the room laughed as Hartwell replied, "We have worked out our differences and we now live together to combat other forces of evil, when necessary."

"My, I mean, our father is evil, isn't he? I wouldn't be surprised if he was a vampire," Oliver said as he was thinking aloud.

The looks on the faces of everyone told Gretchen and Oliver everything they needed to know.

Gretchen looked down at her new sneakers, which were no worn, "Why did I walk here?" And then she looked at Oliver and realized why she had made the trip, "Because I am going to be your protector."

Solomon smiled because he couldn't have dreamed of a better protector for his grandson. And then he turned to Oliver and said, "It is the only way we can stop your father and your mother's family."

"Are you saying that they are the disease and we are the antidote?" Oliver asked.

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" an exuberant Solomon replied before hugging his grandson and then granddaughter for the first time.

18

It was a special day when Oliver turned 18. It was not only the day that everything changed in his world, it was also the day in which everyone moved into Hartwell's house.

"We have to create a united front, because the day he turns 18 all hell will break loose. All of those hunters and protectors will come on stream and you'll need a scorecard just to keep track of all of the players," Hartwell said to a group that had gathered in the main room of the house.

Everyone was trying to figure it out but Thaddeus stepped forward, "Does that mean that their hunters will be on our side?"

Cal replied, "On the surface that might seem true, dad, but are we sure that they will be on board with our arrangement here."

He looked around the room and hunters were sitting comfortably with vampires and protectors, and even living in the same house peaceably.

"I see your point," Thaddeus replied.

Daniel said, "Well, all we have to do is separate Brian Stephens from his head we're good-to-go, right?"

The elders nodded and protector Garrison replied, "That is correct."

"So why don't we just do that and go home?" Daniel innocently asked.

Cal smirked, "What fun is that?"

Everyone laughed including Daniel.

"How many days until the election?" Maggie asked.

"One hundred," Thaddeus replied.

"Since he has about 75 lives, or deaths, left, then we are going to have to be precise and wrap this up before people start walking into those voting booths with only one choice on their minds," Hartwell stated. "He's leading by the biggest margin in election history, yet no one seems to notice."

Cal smiled, "This is going to be an old-fashioned brawl."

And with that statement, Oliver Stephens knocked on the front door with his grandfather, as well as Gretchen and Melanie Lantz, who was making her first appearance at the house.

"Why are you knocking on a broken door to an abandoned warehouse?" Melanie asked.

When the door swung open and a beautiful house appeared in its place she said, "Where did this awesome house come from?"

Maggie sensed that Melanie was on the other side of the door and she escorted the single mom around and said, "Let me give you a tour of the house. My name is Maggie Hartwell."

Melanie shook hands with Maggie and said, "Melanie Lantz," as all of the information on what had happened between Brian Stephens and Melanie was played in a highlight reel in her mind. Part of her brain was taking in the sights while the other section was analyzing being reconnected with dormant memories she possessed. She couldn't believe at first that her husband had not died in a car accident, but as the familiarity of the events unfolded she became broken-hearted for the first time over being married and then having it snatched from her because Stephens accepted a better opportunity.

"I can't believe he did that to me!" she exclaimed. "A person that would stoop to that level of deception should never be the president of the United States."

Maggie stopped the house tour at a wing that was erected for the new guests. "I couldn't agree with you more, Mel. Would you like to see your new room? There's a steam shower in your bathroom."

They glided into her room and then Melanie realized her feet had not touched the ground since she arrived. Since she had to scratch by all of these years on one income to support her daughter, money was the foremost thing on her mind. While she had never experienced anything like this in her life, Melanie felt more comfortable than she ever had in her life.

"How much?"

Maggie replied, "How much do you have?" and then she smiled, drawing a nervous chuckle from Mel. "We just want you to be comfortable. You've been through enough." And then they started gliding again through the room and Maggie asked, "Have you ever thought about eternal life?"

Solomon Stephens did the honors in siring Oliver and the two became as connected in the afterlife as they did in mortality. There was a thought to convert Melanie Lantz as the following discussion took place.

"Should we turn the girl's mother?" Garrison asked.

"We could, but then we'd have to deal with her hunter and protector as well," Hartwell opined.

Then it hit Cal, "I think the natural order will be as such that she will become her ex-husband's hunter."

"That is cool!" his nephew Andrew exclaimed.

Daniel looked at the group and replied, "That is cool!"

"Numbers will not be our problem, but I think it would be wise to just swing the door open and let just anybody in the club. While I fully endorse Solomon—welcome Solly—and his grandson," Solomon nods in appreciation of his new lease on life, "I think it would behoove us to kip our family as just that, a family."

Oliver was sitting on the couch and all of the blood from his neck had been cleaned up. It took a few minutes for the vampire playbook to be downloaded into his hard drive and then he came on line and opened his eyes, triggering a chain reaction that send ripples through the house and neighboring town.

Melanie Lantz was drinking a glass of water and her eyes momentarily turned red and she could only focus on hunting and killing Brian. The released the glass from her hand and was about to speed through the door before Maggie caught the glass with one hand and then restrained her with the other hand.

"Hold on their, cowgirl. We only fight after midnight," Maggie stated as her husband and Cal walked past and thought about the times when they used to battle at all times of the day.

"Usually," Hartwell said and then laughed.

"Unless the itch is so severe that you just have to scratch it," Cal added.

Maggie looked at Melanie and Melanie replied, "I'm really itchy."

"Let's eat dinner first and then we'll let you separate his head from his body."

Melanie thought about her options and countered, "I can't make any promises. What are we having for dinner?"

"What do you want to have?" Maggie asked.

Melanie though of the one thing she always wanted but could never afford, "Lobster!"

Maggie jetted out of the house and then came back two second later with an armful of writhing lobsters, which she placed in a big barrel of water.

"Oh, it's like that!" a calmer Melanie Lantz said to her new friend.

Maggie confidently smirked, "Yeah, it's like that."

Pre-Brawl

"Something is different," Brian said to his wife and her parents and they got ready for the night's battle.

While he had also been brash with anyone that can came in contact with him, he was always at a disadvantage when it came to the trio in his inner circle. Becoming a vampire was everything Brian thought it would be and more, including never having to follow instructions or orders again.

"Is it Oliver's birthday today?" Evelyn Green asked.

"No! We wouldn't forget that!" Oliver's mother Susan exclaimed.

Meyer looked at his watch and said, "It is his birthday!"

Brian was so self-centered and fit the profile of a sociopath that he barely blinked at forgetting such a landmark in his son's existence.

"Who cares! That boy doesn't seem like he's with us anymore. We don't have time for trivial pursuits if we want to survive and win this thing!"

The other three were surprised at first that Brian was being so cold, but then they regained their senses and remembered what a heartless person he was.

"Still, there is something different in the air since this afternoon," Brian repeated. He felt more than his allies because he was not the key to their world. If Brian wound up dying 100 times, then not only would he become mortal but so would they.

Back at Hartwell's house, Melanie was pacing the floor like a big cat waiting to attack once someone opened its cage.

"She is dialed in," Cal said as he stood with the other men.

"We should probably sit this one out," veteran Thaddeus said. "Don't think she'll need much help ending the battle tonight."

Cal replied, "She's gonna' go right for his head."

"Is that what you did?" Daniel asked, being that he was a vampire in this life and also Cal's son, despite being Hartwell's son in his previous life.

Cal looked at Hartwell and then described what happened to him. "He decided to bury me on the bottom of the ocean for 15 years and take me away from everything that mattered. When I finally was released from my underwater tomb and then washed up on the shore, the only thing I thought about once the sun restored my powers was killing him. There was nothing in there about family or what life would be like... I just wanted to separate him from his head."

There was silence for a few seconds and then Hartwell said, "But it would probably be fun to watch," and then everyone laughed and agreed that it would be fun to watch such a focused effort.

Oliver's vampiracy also triggered everything to fall into place, including Betty—Solomon's wife—becoming his protector, and Gretchen formally protecting Oliver, which seemed to be a better fit for both of them. They gathered in the quiet room, the place they almost consummated their relationship, a few minutes before everyone gathered in the main room of the house.

Oliver blushed, "That was a close one."

Gretchen cheeks turned red as well," Yeah, we almost went too far."

Then Oliver had an idea, "Now that I'm a vampire and no longer mortal and you are my protector, does that mean that we're still technically brother and sister," the teenager with raging hormones questioned.

Maggie was listening in and zipped into the room, standing in between Oliver and Gretchen. "I don't think that's such a good idea." And then she sent a beacon of thought throughout the house "Can I please get a ruling on this?!"

People came streaming from different points of the house to get in on a discussion that knew little about.

She looked at Oliver, "Oliver would like to know if he and Gretchen are technically still brother and sister."

The men looked at each other and knew what the boy and his one-track-mind were focused on.

"That's a tough one," Cal said.

"It's a little creepy," Nicole added.

"Once siblings always siblings," Thaddeus said.

"What do you think, Thomas?" Garrison asked Hartwell.

"Well, let's break this down. The two have a common biological paternity, but they have no history as siblings. Technically, the moment Solomon ended his mortal life and turned him in our direction, he started a separate life and ceased to be her brother."

Daniel interjected, "Does that also mean that when I became a vampire you ceased to be my father?"

Hartwell replied, "No. I was your father from a previous life and also your sire."

Daniel nodded and then switched gears, " Well, I'm not sure I would feel the same way, at least not in romantic terms, if I knew that Nicole was my sister."

Nicole understood what her soul-mate was saying, "I feel the same way, but it wasn't that way and there was nothing that was going to keep us apart." She turned to Andrew and said, "No offense, Drew."

Drew and his wife Carla replied together, "None taken."

Maggie stepped to the front again, "Well, it seems that we're almost back to where we started. They were half brother and sister with no history other than being best friends, and now that Oliver has been turned they have seemingly been recast as life allies in all physical and mental dimensions."

"But, unless we alter their DNA, they are still brother and sister," Daniel's son Maxwell said as he entered the room.

"Would that change who we are?" Oliver asked.

"Once you alter a gene sequence you will never be exactly who you were," Max replied.

Oliver looked at Gretchen and they both knew what had to be done, as the enchanting spell of lust had been broken.

"We're gonna' stay best friends and siblings," he stated.

Thaddeus and Garrison put their arms around Oliver and said as they walked out of the room together, "There are plenty of fish in the sea, my boy."

While the women went over to Gretchen and rubbed her back and offered support to the teary teen, who only envisioned her life with Oliver as his equal, not his protector.

Nicole said, "You were his protector all of this time, anyway. The worst thing you could experience was not being with him every day."

Gretchen nodded her head in understanding, thanked her new family and then hugged her mother, who had put her rage aside for a moment to comfort her daughter.

"The only thing that matters is that we are all together. We finally have a full family, Gretch!"

Brawl

The clock struck 12 and everyone in the house decided to go out to the field in support of Melanie. The veterans also knew that she was a protector with no previous experience, unlike Cal who was raised from the ocean floor after 15 years being an already-skilled warrior.

The four participants from the dark side—Brian, Susan, Evelyn and Meyer—left Brian and Susan's house walking, then jogging and the sprinting until the hit the field. It seemed like a typical night at first but Brian still wasn't buying it.

"They keep going after me so do your best to protect me," the constant prima donna said as they stopped at the edge of the grassy surface.

They then saw a wall of people coming at them as Meyer stated, "Looks like they're bringing the house."

Hartwell's crew was 12 deep as they stretched horizontally across the field as Melanie Lantz took up an aggressive position in front of everyone else. All she saw was a clear path toward her ex-husband and her focus was on his neck and the blade of her sword. As she got closer to Brian he abandoned his aggressive position, stood up straight and said, "Melanie, is that you? What are you..." was all he got off as someone came flying in from the side of the action and moved him aside and then crashed violently into Melanie.

"Whoa!" Daniel exclaimed. Didn't see that one coming!" as a spectator event was quickly turning into an all-out brawl.

As Oliver turned 18 and then came on stream, so did everyone else associated with the vampirical triangle of vampire, protector and hunter. In the unnatural order, Brian's campaign manager, Jerome Singletary, who was an ex-college football player, came on line only hours earlier and happily sacked Melanie Lantz to protect his quarterback.

The original vampires, protectors and hunters stood to the side for a moment while two new hunters joined the fray. With Gretchen being Oliver's protector, their nemesis at school, Greg Pernell, was called into duty to become Oliver's hunter. He wasted no time in getting his hands dirty, plowing Gretchen and Oliver into the ground like they were being planted for harvest. The transition from messy teen to fastidious vampire must have taken hold because Oliver was furious at being dirtied-up that much and threw Pernell into a back of trees some 200 yards away and then cleaned himself off.

Betty was surprised to see her real estate agent, Katsuo Yomoto, taking hold of her and her husband around the neck and attempting to cut off their air supply. Betty thought she was good friends with Kat but that did not appear to be the reality of the situation.

"This is intense!" Andrew said and then went to the Beach Haven Bar and Grill and grabbed a bunch of popcorn bags and handed them out to the non-fighting spectators, who were now seated in bleachers adjacent to the field. However, one of the spectators was called into action when it was cosmically determined that he was the next hunter up in the change of command. Alexander Lowery sired Evelyn and Meyer Green, yet the only descendent on his vampire tree that remained was Hartwell, so the responsibility of becoming Hartwell's and the Green's hunter fell on Thaddeus because Lowery's hunter was no more.

"Looks like I'm being called into action," Thaddeus said as Cal handed him a sword.

"I'll be back in a jiffy," he said casually and then raced into the field, separating Meyer and Evelyn's heads in once swing of his might blade. He returned to the bench area and spiked the blade into the ground.

Garrison tossed some popcorn down his throat and smiled, "Oh, I think I was supposed to protect them from you!" and everyone in the stands got a good laugh.

The brawl continued because it was only Brian's death that could end the festivities for the night. The battling went on between inexperienced fighters Melanie and Jerome, with his mortal strength advantage being neutralized by her superior vampire power. They tried changing into different iterations of their evolutionary tracts, but being a pit bull, wolf, ram, cat, grizzly bear, hippo, hawk, bottlenose dolphin and Orca killer whale did little to influence the outcome. A similar dynamic was going on in the scrum between Oliver, Gretchen and Greg Pernell.

Brian stood by and files his long nails and was letting others do the bulk of the work as usual, and this did not sit well with Cal and Hartwell.

"How long do you want to let this go on?" Cal asked.

"Long enough to send these people a message that they're powerless if we decide to step in," Hartwell replied.

"Are we going to keep this going until 100?" Cal asked.

"I'll ask the same question I asked before: do you want this guy to be president?"

Cal decided to answer with his action instead of his words, because he was much better using his fists than his mouth. He tossed his popcorn in the air and then raced over toward the Singletary-Lantz coupling and reached back and then floored Singletary with his powerful right fist, clearing an unimpeded path between Melanie and Brian Stephens.

Stephens picked up his head from his metro-sexual grooming and tried to talk his way out of a sticky situation.

"Wait! Let's talk about..." was all he got off until Melanie picked up her sword and furiously swung through the hitting zoon, separating Stephens' useless head from his toned, middle-aged body.

Cal returned to his seat just as his floating popcorn nestled safely bag in his hand. He glanced over at Hartwell and Hartwell said, "Did that feel as good as it looked?"

"You know it did," Cal replied as they bumped fists.

Meanwhile, everyone else stopped fighting because the brawl had effectively ended with Brian's death. But Melanie was so frustrated by the truth and how Brian had deceived her and withheld information from her all of these years, that she continued to plunge her sword into his body like a pin cushion. Oliver and Gretchen looked back at the spectators to get their ruling on whether to intervene, but Hartwell gestured as if she needed to get it out of her system. After a few minutes she became tired and kicked his head about 100 yards away from his body.

Thaddeus said to Garrison, "That's our cue. It's time to go home."

"Hey, you want to stop in town and get a beer first," Gary replied.

Thad nodded and half the people came along while all of the other dispersed for the evening like nothing had even happened. No one even bothered to gather Brian's remains so he could wake up in his house in a familiar spot until Jerome woke up from his Cal-induced slumber and picked up his body and head so no one would find him and conclude that the president-to-be had been murdered.

President Stephens?

While the brawls were occurring nightly, Brian and his people still had a campaign to run. As the final months ticked away to Election Day, Brian's lead was slipping against the incumbent candidate Ronald McElroy, who had been closing the gap on what was a humongous deficit.

"Why are the people thinking for themselves now?!" Brian barked at Susan and his campaign manager Jerome Singletary.

"It must have been McElroy's 'RU Flat?' campaign, Singletary replied as he wrote 'RU Fl@?' on the white dry-erase board in the front of the conference room. "Someone must have given them intel to be able to neutralize your messages."

"So, what are our options? Does this mean that we have to run a straight campaign until the day of the election?" Brian said, feeling unsure about how to go about walking a straight line for a change. It had been years since he had to do things by the book and he wasn't really interested in toughing out an election that he assumed was already in the bag.

"Well, you are 35% ahead with only two months left, so all you have to do is not mess up the debate and we're home free," Susan stated.

Brian looked at Jerome for confirmation and he replied, "Yeah, what she said."

"But I'm more than half way to mortality," Brian said. "What will happen when they kill me for the hundredth time and we all become mortal again?"

Susan and Jerome looked at each other because they had been discussing the same thing only moments earlier.

"What gonna' happen when they kill him for the hundredth time and we all become mortal?" Susan asked.

"I don't know?" Jerome replied. "You've been at this longer than I have. Is there any chance we can beat them?"

Susan was unsure of what she was being asked, "Do you mean overall or just, maybe, once?"

"Once would be a start," he countered.

"The outlook is bleak. They have been at this so long and we don't have the time it would take to get up to speed," she replied.

He was curious, "How long would it take?"

"Forever would be shorter than the actual time we would need," Susan replied. And then she asked, "Do you think we can still win this thing?"

"I think we can, but it will come at a price," he replied.

And then the two transitioned from the flashback to their conversation with Brian. Jerome took the lead, "I don't think it matters whether we're mystical creatures capable of extraordinary things or mortals doing ordinary things, we can still win this thing!"

"How?!" Brian grunted. "People don't like me."

Jerome looked at Susan for guidance because she was better at throwing the poo than he was.

"People like you!" Susan exclaimed and then noticed that Brian wasn't buying it. "Listen, I liked you enough to marry you and Jerome liked you enough to work on your campaign.

"But I pay Jerome and all you want to be is first lady," Brian shot back.

Susan looked confused, "And your point is?"

"Jerome is going to be my chief of staff and you are going to be first lady," Brian stated in a confident voice.

"Exactly!" Susan yelled.

That night at the battle, Susan and Jerome made a bee-line to the stands where Hartwell and company were sitting after doing away with hunter Melanie Lantz, who was still trying to work out the kinks of her skill set.

"That was impressive," Cal said as Susan stood in front of the stands.

She looked down at the empty bottom row of bleachers and asked, "May we?"

And Hartwell replied, "Yes, you may."

"So, what is it going to take to get my husband in office?" Susan asked, trying to cut through the rhetoric.

Hartwell had already spoken to his family and they had agreed on what it would take to make Susan's request come true.

"We just want to let it be known that none of us like him," Hartwell.

Susan looked around and then replied, "To tell you the truth, I don't like him much either."

Jerome concurred, "Yeah, I can barely stand to be in the same room with him."

Susan had left her duties as the protector of her husband and let him fend for himself against Garrison, who had come off the bench to enter the battle.

"Why should you be the next president of the United States?" Gary asked Brian as they continued to fight.

"What is this, a second grade book report?" Brian shot back.

Gary asked a simple question and wanted a simple answer, so he hauled off and punch Brian in the jaw with a massive left hook sending the candidate falling to his back.

Gary was quick to pounce on Brian and say, "Let's try this again. Why should you be the next president of the United States? And just know, the weight on you is about to get deadly. He changed into a bottlenose dolphin and awaited Brian response.

"Because," Brian replied, trying to decide whether he was going to become puree or live to fight a little longer.

Gary changed back into his homo sapien form and said, "Say what?" and then changed back into a dolphin.

"It turned out that Brian was not prepared to explain himself on this night and took the low road, "Because your mother wasn't available!"

Thaddeus was tangling with Meyer and the two men heard the comment, "Would you excuse me for a moment?" he asked.

Meyer replied, "Certainly. Take all the time you need."

Gary could sense Thad coming and flipped in the air and did twirled while Thad jumped toward Brian on the ground and changed into a grizzly bear, landing on Brian and holding him down until Gary completed his transformation into an Orca killer whale.

"See you tomorrow," Thad said as he rolled off and then flew away as a hawk as Gary became his whale persona and crushed Brian with all of the force of a wrecking ball into a nail.

"Does he have to be president or can we replace him with someone else?" Hartwell asked.

Susan replied, "C'mon Thomas, you and I both know that the office is just a puppet show."

While people in the house had their varying political views, the one thing they all agreed upon was being comfortable for the many years they would be alive. So, what everyone wanted was security and to be free from financial worry for the remainder of their existences in this life. Hartwell detailed that to Susan after her husband was splattered across the Great Lawn at Beach Haven Park.

"Can we stay as vampires?" she asked even though her bargaining power was fairly weak against such creatures.

"I'm not sure we can trust you," Hartwell replied.

"I don't trust him!" Cal grunted. "Or what's left of him."

"Listen, nobody trusts him," Susan stated.

"When you say 'we' whom are you specifically talking about?" Maggie asked.

Susan thought for a moment and then looked at her parents, who were motioning to her that it was time to go.

"That would be just me," she replied.

Maggie smiled, "I like her!"

"Think about it," Susan said. "I don't take up a lot of space."

Susan ran over to her parents and they started grilling her about what was said.

Her mother asked the only question that was on her mind, "Do they think we can still win?"

Susan looked back at the group and then replied, "I think it's a definite possibility."

Town Hall

The battles took on a more regional slant as Brian hit the campaign trail. His days were filled with shaking hands and kissing babies—something that he hadn't done before the race transcended to a more level playing field—while his nights were filled with campaign donor dinners that were followed by battles in local parks, high school football and corn fields.

It took the vampires, protectors and hunters no time to get to each fight each night once a suitable location was decided upon. Brian started to even enjoy the workout even though Jerome had to scrape his bodily party off the turf each night. The pain of the loss was lessening within Brian as he approached death number 100, which also happened to be the night of the last debate less than two weeks before the election.

Brian's lead had dwindled from 90%/10% in his more dominant days to 65%/35% when Hartwell and his family became involved, and now stood at 53%/47%. With the margin of error being two or three percent, that meant that only a few points separated Ronald McElroy from making an improbable comeback and maintaining control of the White House. The fact was that most people thought McElroy was doing a decent job and didn't really know much about where Brian stood on the key issues—even though they really liked him for some reason they couldn't explain.

So this last debate, which was slated to be in a town hall format where the candidates would directly interface with members of the community in a more informal setting. Nobody really knew why the event was taking place at Beach Haven Town Hall in Long Island, New York, other than the people that really wanted it there.

"We need this last one to be as close to home as possible if this thing is going to work," Hartwell said to Susan and the rest of his family in the main room of the house. "There is a door we have to access somewhere in between our world and mortality that could give us the desired results we're after."

"Do you have to be the one who kills him for the hundredth time?" Susan asked.

"No," Hartwell replied and then he pointed at Melanie Lantz, "It has to be her."

Melanie was caught off guard by the sudden upswing in attention, "Why does it have to be me?" But it wasn't that she was unwilling or lacking motivation for the century death, she was just curious.

Hartwell replied, "Because it started with you and it's going to end with you."

Everyone nodded in agreement at the poetic justice of their world except Susan, who was staring at Melanie like she had something on her mind. The meeting broke up and people dispersed from the main room until they were the only people left.

"I didn't know," Susan said.

"You didn't know what?" Melanie asked.

"I didn't know you existed," Susan replied.

Melanie thought about the statement and then got to the heart of the matter, "Would it have mattered if you did know?"

It was Susan's turned to be introspective, "Probably not, but I did know that he had other women he was seeing and all I could think about was closing the deal."

"I can understand that," Melanie stated. "In hindsight, you probably saved me years of mental anguish and pain."

And then Susan smiled, "If you could have remembered it."

Hartwell glided over to the window on the back deck and saw the two women hugging, and this told him all he needed to know about the family remaining on the right track.

It was debate night and all of the people in the house were dispersed in a crowd of about 200 attendees in the temporary bleachers set up in an oval configuration. Also in attendance were Brian's people, who were a bit on edge at the prospect of losing their mystical powers and becoming mortal again.

"Are you ready for this?" Susan asked her husband as she straightened his red tie.

"As ready as I'm going to be. Are you talking about the debate or the other stuff?" Brian questioned.

Evelyn Green interjected, "The only thing that matters is the debate," as she and her husband had become resigned to the fact that their lives would not last for considerably longer than it would have as vampires.

The elder Greens looked at Campaign Manager Jerome Singletary for confirmation of their focus.

"Yes, the debate," he blurted and then added, "But you know that I'll always have your back."

Being killed every night for the past 99 days was quite a humbling experience, even for Brian Stephens. He had even started acting somewhat like a human being in recent days, which was a radical departure from a life spent using people weaknesses against them for his own gain.

He extended his right hand as a gesture and the two men shook hands, "I have appreciated your loyalty and service," they briefly hugged and Brian added, "I just wished we all could fight a little better," and he and everyone wiped away the mist in their eyes and laughed.

The debate started and the candidates walked out into the center of the main room at town hall, the challenger Stephens being introduced first and then President McElroy. They shook hands and McElroy said, "One mistake and this is mine, Stephens."

Brian smiled and replied, "In your dreams, Mac."

"McElroy might me older than Singer but I bet he could take him," Daniel said to internally Cal, who was the ultimate fighting prognosticator.

Cal surveyed the two men and came up with a mental 'tale of the tape' before sharing his opinion.

"Stephens has never been in a fight in his life and McElroy has a substantial amount of callous buildup on his knuckles, which points to his upbringing on the docks with his father. Stephens would be sleeping within seven seconds."

"Two punches?" Daniel asked.

"Left hook to the body, right cross to the bridge of the nose," Cal stated.

They smiled as the debate began, with the candidates trading verbal punches in a somewhat reserved fashion, feeling each other out like two evenly-matched prize fighters. But, as the minutes passed and the majority of questions were asked by audience members with neither man seemingly gaining an advantage, the last question appeared to have all the weight.

A little girl named Betsy Jenkins stood up and read of an index card that was provided for her, "The whales swimming in the ocean are becoming closer to being extinct. What would you do about this problem?"

McElroy took the lead because it was his turn to speak, "Our oceans and our ocean life are some of our most precious resources..." he started saying as the action slowed and many of the people in the room went still. It became obvious that the night's battle couldn't wait until midnight when Melanie Lantz saw Brian's protector, Jerome Singletary, came out of from behind the stands and sought to head off her later intent with the tip of his blade.

The events unfolded within a few split-seconds, which was slightly faster than the human blink of an eye, so nothing foreign was caught on camera. McElroy continued to tout the merits of the whale population as the battle continued in spirts, Maggie coming to Melanie's defense and thwarting Jerome's sneak attack.

Brian got involved as Hartwell flipped him over on his back. And when the camera cut to Brian to get his reaction to what McElroy was saying, he smiled and then straightened his tie before the camera switched back to McElroy in the live feed and the fight continued. The battle went on for another 25 seconds until McElroy's time ran out on his 30-second response. Brian was being defended vigorously by his people, who were able to hold off Melanie Lantz for the full time.

It was the longest period of time that any of the 100 battles had endured, leaving Brian a little out of breath for a few seconds before answering the question. He used the moment to collect his thoughts and devise a strategy on the fly. His numbers had been plummeting with liberal voters, but that bleeding was about to stop.

Brian picked up his head and it looked like he had tears in his slightly red eyes, which occurred mostly from taking repeated blows to the head. He then started speaking, almost with a lump in his throat, "My first order of business—that is, if I am elected to the office of President of the United States—will be to make sure that our national treasures such as our friends the whales be protected and preserved to the fullest extent of my office. That the organizations in charge of such things are fully funded and companies that dump harmful chemicals, oils and gases be prosecuted to the further extent of the law and pay fines that would go directly to the well-being of our natural resources."

The crowd was stunned at first because they hadn't heard such compassion from the candidate during his time running for this or any office. The two candidates shook hands, McElroy trying to smile in front of his sheer disappointment at letting the challenger get off the last shot, as the crowd stood and applauded.

100

Brian completed a few post-debate interviews in which most of the questions centered around his life for oceanic wildlife. While thinking like a regular person was quite difficult for him at first, the process of actually figuring out what other were thinking and then saying it was coming together.

"I kind of like this politician thing," Brian said to Jerome as they wrapped up the political part of the evening and walked out of Beach Haven Town Hall.

"After all of these years, I finally have a job," Jerome said as he smiled and thought that better days were ahead even if they lived as mortals.

And then he added, "We have about 45 minutes. Do you want to grab a bite to eat?"

Brian nodded, "Last time we can eat anything we want and it won't matter."

"I called ahead to the Beach Haven Diner and they have prepared most of the menu for us in the back room," Jerome stated and then realized there was something else on Brian's mind, "And the others are meeting us there."

"That's what I always liked about you, Jerome. You're always a step ahead of me."

Susan, Evelyn and Meyer met Brian and Jerome at the diner and were joined by Katsuo Yomoto, who was willing to put the fervent desire to use her sword for a moment before walking to the battlefield for the last time.

Between bites, Kat asked, "Is there any chance we can win tonight?"

Meyer was always good ad taking a situation and assessing it for what it was, not what he wanted it to be.

"Somehow, I don't think this all matters to us anymore."

Brian backed his father-in-law in a rare display of solidarity, "I think when we wake up tomorrow morning the world will be a better place for all of us."

Meyer looked over at Brian, who he could barely stand to be in the same room with since he met him, and said, "It already is."

Garrison and Thaddeus, Hartwell's protector and hunter were sitting in a booth at the Beach Haven by the door so they could gauge when to tell the others to start galloping out the field. Thad put some honey in his tea and asked, "Do you think this will be the end of it?"

Gary deftly sectioned off a piece of New York cheesecake and replied, "Your guess as good as mine," and then consumed the cheese and graham cracker crust goodness.

"I kind of like the action," Gary stated.

Thad nodded, "Me too, as long as we are on the same side."

Gary nodded, "Ditto."

The Stephens/Green/Singletary/Yomoto party exited the back room with full bellies and walked up to the front of the restaurant, stopping to engage the familiar faces in conversation.

"Hey, guys!" Singletary said to the two men.

Thad kept eating and Gary replied, "There they are!"

"I thought for a moment you all were going to eat your way out of tonight's activities."

Everyone laughed as Gary said, "Great job on that last question, Mr. Stephens!" as he and the vampires were very connected to the safety of the water.

Thaddeus was obviously not as fond of the ocean because of the danger it presented in the hunting world. "It's the probably the first direct thing he's said since this all started. But you've got my vote because I know deep down that you aren't so fond of the water."

Brian thought back to the day he nearly drowned in the town people as a nine year-old and he cringed, "This is true."

The pleasantries appeared to over until Evelyn asked, "What's it like?"

Thad and Gary looked at each other and it appeared that neither one of them had a clue what she was talking about until Susan talked to both of them internally, "The transition back to mortality."

Thad went first, "I was up on the roof and half my face got burnt to a crisp. It was a lot easier when we came back on line."

"I was asleep in my recliner," Gary said, "so the only thing I noticed when I woke up was the aches and pains."

Meyer said, "Yeah, haven't missed those."

"We'll see you in about 20 minutes," Jerome said as the rest of the group nodded goodbye and Thad said, "Sounds like a plan."

"We should go on vacation with the girls after this," Gary said, referring to a couple of ladies they had been seeing in recent months.

Thad smiled, "A permanent one."

"I'm not living in Florida or Arizona, or any place there are a lot of old people," Gary said.

"How about the Carolina's?" Thad asked.

"Old," Gary replied.

"Why don't we just build a house next to the one we're living in now?" Thad asked.

"That would definitely solve our privacy problem and keep us near the family," Gary stated.

Daniel and Hartwell zipped into the diner and sat next to Gary and Thad, "So it shall be said..." Daniel said.

Hartwell finished the statement, "so it shall be done."

The hundredth death turned into more of a family death than the previous milestone they experienced, which was basically a Cal and Hartwell event. Everyone came out for this one, although the consensus was for a knockout in the early stages of the first round. Most people hadn't even bothered to change from their lounge clothes to battle garb, save for Melanie Lantz who was as focused as ever.

There was barely a job leading up to the middle of the great lawn at Beach Haven Park, as the two sides walked up to each other and nodded in greeting. Melanie Lantz and Brian Stephens stepped up because there was still tension between them.

"I wanted to first say that I am sorry for what I did to you," Brian opened the conversation.

Melanie did not speak because she thought his opener was incomplete. Susan elbowed Brian when she sensed that Melanie's body temperature was rising.

"Oh, and I would like to apologize for the things I did to you before I married Susan."

This time it was Gretchen that looked at him with disdain.

Brian bowed his head slightly and started saying, "I missed my little girl growing up."

Melanie no longer had a connection to this man and her feelings were mending by the moment. She was not looking for speeches of contrition on this night only an action that would free her from having to pursue him anymore. Melanie gripped her sword and blocked the words from permeating her senses and before she even knew what his happening, his head was rolling past the group's feet. Everyone that was connected to Brian collapsed top the floor once Brian's life was officially extinguished for the hundredth time. All except Susan Green Stephens, who smirked at Hartwell, Thad and Gary as she fell to the ground.

President Stephens

Various people had assignments to bring bodies to assigned locations. The only person who didn't wind up in his or her home was Brian Stephens, who needed transitional persuasion in order to enter the next phase in his life.

"Do you think he'll follow the protocol?" his wife asked the group assembled in just outside of Hartwell's house the next morning.

Cal cocked his head to the side and then replied, "Well, there is only one way to find out," as he took a swing at Stephens and landed a furious right hand to his right eye, sending the prone candidate falling backwards in his chair until he thudded down into the sand. Cal propped the chair and body back up and Thaddeus and Gary took turns at pounding some sense into Stephens' limp body. Then Melanie Lantz stepped up and landed her own sense of redemption before picking up the chair and looking at Susan Green Stephens, "Perhaps you need this more than the rest of us."

Susan had been restored to vampiracy by Maggie only hours earlier and had a real serious look on her face until she realized that she, in fact, was the real winner here. She turned her back and started walking away from her husband like it would be beneath her to take such a cheap shot. But then she was treated to a highlight reel of all of her husband's transgressions from Hartwell and she abruptly spun around and landing a sweeping left fist to his right ear, which caused some temporary hearing loss.

She looked over to Hartwell and smiled, "Thanks, I needed that." Hartwell said "You're very welcome," and then nodded and smiled at Maggie and then Cal, who always appreciated an act of pure vengeance.

Brian Stephens sat in a wobbly, wooden chair unconscious with blood streaming down his face from an open wound on his head. His hands were tied behind his back and his legs were bound tightly, perhaps giving the appearance that he would not be extending beyond that point for some time.

He had been placed in the back room of an abandoned warehouse, which was both drafty and lit only by occasional streaks of sunlight that would flicker throughout the premises. Stephens was knocked out because of his inability to retreat in the face of certain disaster. His life's work had been to grasp onto the ideas of others and push the boundaries and limits of that idea, taking it where no other human could go.

Certainly, being beaten and left for dead in an old factory in Long Island, New York, was no place for a psychologist by trade. It was also the last place in the world the secret service would look for the man that was days away from becoming the head of the free world. That was, until, the events of the last few days unfolded.

Dr. Stephens slowly regained consciousness and instinctively tried to move his extremities before picking up his head. He then reset his bearings by projecting the three dimensions of his self-image—a technique that he had molded into an unstoppable force—only this time around, the decision-making process would surely be immersed in revenge.

But before he could break free and hunt down the people responsible for this he was confronted with a familiar face.

"Good morning, Brian."

Brian strained to focus on the familiar face, "Susan, is that you?"

"Yes, it is me," Susan said as the others surrounded her to ensure the deed was done right.

"What are we doing here?" Brian asked. And then he squinted through the one eye that was still barely open and noticed his restrictions, "Why am I tied up?"

Susan put her finger on Brian's swelling lips and then returned the finger to her own lips and said, "Shhh" before leaning in a kissing him on the lips. All of the information Brian needed was ingrained in the lip-to-lip contact, as he slipped back into unconsciousness for the next 44 minutes.

Brian's eyes flickered opened like a dusty overhead lighting tube on its last legs. His complete hard drive and been rebooted and this version was definitely the new and improved Brian Stephens 2.0. He instinctively contorted his right arm until he was able to unravel the confines of the thick white rope enough to free himself enough to call 911 on his phone.

"911, what is your emergency?" the operator who was really Carla Brewster, Andrew's wife asked.

"My name is Brian Stephens and I have been kidnapped, beaten and left for de*ad in an old, abandoned warehouse."

Carla smiled and replied, "Is this the same Brian Stephens who is running for president and likes whales?"

Stephens thought about the referenced and then replied, "Yes, I like whales."

Everyone looked at Susan and realized that her download had indeed taken.

"Just hold on the line, Mr. Stephens. I am getting your location from the GPS on your phone," Carla stated.

"Got it!" she exclaimed. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you for your help!" he replied.

"A car should be out for you soon, Mr. Stephens. I just thought you should know that I am going to vote for you!"

"Thank you!"

The group faded to black as Susan said, "So is everybody else."

Ten minutes later, SWAT teams followed by camera crews burst into what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, the location of which was permanently erased from all of their minds only moments later. They removed the remaining restraints and Brian slowly rose to his feet, only to be greeting by his loving wife.

"I was so worried that we lost you!" Susan yelled as the cameras got a dimly-lit picture of the reunion. An EMT put a blanket around Brian's shoulders but he shrugged it off before walking out into the light and making a statement before the cameras.

Even though his face was swollen and bloodied and he was only moments from collapsing for a three-day rest in a local hospital, Brian said "I can only assume that the people that did this to me think I ceased to exist in that space," he looked back at the aged warehouse. "But, I am standing before you to say that the exact opposite is the truth. Somewhere in between abduction and consciousness, I realized that the people of this country have risen above every challenge presented by our oppressors. I will not stand for this type of behavior and neither will any of you!" He hugged his wife and looked at her parents and Jerome and said, "We will go through these challenges that befall us together and come back stronger as one, as a nation."

The EMTs helped Brian into the ambulance and the news crews took one last shot of the vehicle driving away, accompanies by police cars and government SUVs.

Susan turned to Jerome and said, "That was by far, your best speech!"

Jerome smiled and replied as they walked away, "Have you decided what changes you want to make to the White House?"

She looked back at Hartwell and company and nodded in appreciation before saying to Jerome, "I've already picked out a new china pattern."
