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He stopped, fidgeting from one foot to the other. I thought he was going to bolt, but, he didn’t.

I was wary but at least he hadn’t taken off running yet, so I walked over, taking care not to appear threatening. I plastered on what I hoped was an reassuring smile.

“I’m glad you stopped, son. I’ve been trying to find my way back to the neighborhood entrance. Can you tell me how to get there?”

He was wearing threadbare jeans and a tattered denim jacket. His hatless head exposed close-cropped black hair. He looked cold. As are kids that age going through a growth spurt, he was gangly, out of proportion while waiting for his body to catch up to his arms and legs. Briefly, memories of my days as a teacher tried to nudge into my head but I squelched them. That life was over and I couldn’t afford to dwell on it.

He stared at me with big brown eyes, before saying solemnly, “You have to keep where you wanna go in mind, mister, and don’t pay no ‘tention to anything else. You do that, you can find your way around okay.”

I studied his face looking for a hint he was shitting me but he seemed to be dead serious, so I said, “Er, okay, son. I’ll keep that in mind. Just this time, though, could you point me in the right direction?”

He hesitated for a second, then nodded and guided me back to the street off which I’d turned that sported a sign that said it was Oakwood Lane. “Keep going that way”- he pointed – “and keep your mind on it else you might git lost again.”

Relief rushed in. “Thank you, son. I appreciate it.”

He dipped his head and started back up the way we’d come. A gust of chill wind cut its way down the street, a foretaste of the winter that was a month and a half away, and the boy shivered and hunched his shoulders as he plodded away.

I tried but failed to dismiss him from my mind.

“Hey kid,” I called. He stopped and turned, his eyebrows going up. I pulled off my hat and held it out to him. “Here, take this.”

His big eyes got bigger and he hesitated before coming back and slowly reaching for the gray knit cap.

“Um, thanks mister.” He fingered it with an expression that was almost reverent, and flashed a hint of a smile as he pulled the cap onto his head and over his ears. I nodded and he gave me a last look showing me a bigger smile before turning and continuing up the street. His step was springier.

Old memories tried once again to surface but I pushed them away and headed in the direction he’d pointed.

The sign on the corner had changed again. Now it was Main, the same one I’d taken when I left Semptor Labs. It was Oakwood a few minutes ago. A chill crawled up the back of my neck. I shivered and decided it was best if I ignored the change.

It sounded implausible when he said it and I didn’t really believe it could work, but, hell, I had nothing to lose, so I took the boy’s advice and kept my mind strictly on the entryway. I didn’t know if that was what did the trick, but that time I made it.

Black suit had returned to whatever hole in which he hung out, but Earl and Jim were still there and smirked at me as I went by to go climb into the pile of pieced together junk that I called my car. Bastards must’ve known I’d get lost.

I didn’t stop to ask them anything, such as how such a small neighborhood and a road that ran nearly straight from the company to the entryway managed to be so confusing that I needed help to find my way back.

Or what the fuck was wrong with the people.

Chapter Seventeen

MY WANDERING TURNED OUT TO HAVE BEEN educational about more than learning the location of Semptor Labs and that the area was full of unfriendly, possibly unhinged, assholes. Among other things, the eye irritant black-suit said would clear up “in a while”, did, but only the farther away I was from Semptor Labs. That kind of verified to me that it was something going on there that was causing it.

And, for what it was worth, the time I spent rambling around lost hadn’t been a total waste. I also learned the basic layout of the place. That was a good thing since I was going to have to go back one more time, though, I hoped not to get lost again.

I’d gone up and down eight named streets – plus five that if they had names I never spotted the signs – and passed a number of alleys and tiny passageways. Six of the streets were dead ends while the others all circled back around to join Main. I may have missed a few but that was probably most. You’d think it would be easy to find your way around such an uncomplicated set-up. That is, it was uncomplicated if you didn’t count the fact that from time to time, without warning you found yourself on a street that a moment before had seemed to be a different one.

I described the trip to Adam and told him what happened at the guardhouse.

“Hey, I told you not to ask the guards anything except for directions. You gotta learn to listen. It wasn’t the one you asked about getting to Carter Street that set ‘em off. It was the one about what was in the air.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Near as I can tell, it’s best not to ask them about anything other than directions, but I sure as hell don’t know why. Hey, they got rough with me ‘cause I asked if that wall went all the way around the neighborhood. Look, I also got lost there, once. The second time I went, I was on foot because I wasn’t gonna take my car back down in there. I can’t say for sure but I think it’s a little easier to find your way out if you’re driving, though in that case you might lose a piece off your car.

“I think that’s why I didn’t get lost the first time I went but I’d rather have kept my car in one piece because I didn’t know I’d busted the oil pan until I was half-way back to my office and my oil light started blinking. Anyway, the time I got lost, if I hadn’t run up on a bar with a friendly bartender right off, I probably would’ve been dragging my ass around there for hours, too. He told me how to get out of the place.”

“Did he know what was in the air?”

“Nah. I asked him about that. He said they’ve always thought it was from that crap hanging overhead. They’ve gotten used to it though he said some days are worse than others.”

“Well, did you know Semptor Labs was in there? After all, judging by the “SL” initials on it, I think that envelope was for someone who works there.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t make the connection. I’m just as surprised as you about that. Who would’ve thought they’d be there of all places?”

“You’re right. But, I suppose they can be anywhere they want.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, they can.”

I asked my next question carefully. “What did the bartender tell you about finding your way out?”

His eyes flicked away from mine for a second then he shrugged. “He said I had to keep my destiny in mind and not get distracted. I know it sounds off-the-wall but it works. I’ve made two deliveries in there since then and didn’t get lost either time.”

That was about the same thing the boy said.

“So, why didn’t you tell me before I went and found myself schlepping around looking for the exit?” The absence of that information had caused me to lose two hours of my life that I wasn’t ever going to get back. And creeped the shit out of me.

“Well, I guess I should have but I really needed you to go and was kinda hoping you wouldn’t get lost. After all, I didn’t get lost the first time I went.” He shook his head and his lips crooked into a half smile. “Besides, how do you tell somebody something like that without sounding loopy? If I’d told you, would you have believed me, and if you did would you have gone?” He shrugged, losing the smile as he gazed out the window of his small office. He muttered softly, “I think the whole thing’s got something to do with…”