He took the Speedotram to Simon’s office the morning of the second day, so he could learn how to transport himself back to Earth.  There was a special section set aside for the trips he would make, on the very top floor of the classy looking office building that Simon worked in.  There was a long hallway there, with swirling holographic masses built into the walls.  Glints of silver, gold and blue floated throughout the swirling masses and Trace found that his bracelet seemed to glow brighter when he approached one.

“All you have to do is think of the place you want to go, and it will take you there.  You will only appear to those you wish to see you.” Simon told him.  “Whatever clothing you’d like to wear is at your disposal as well. Just picture yourself in the clothing, and that’s what you’ll be wearing once you’re through to the other side.  Some people find it easier to do this, if they’re dressed as they would have been in their former lives.  There’s also playing cards, cigarettes, and other props available in that closet over there.” He pointed to a door at the end of the hallway.  “I wasn’t sure if you were a smoker.”

Trace nodded.  “Even if I wasn’t, I think I’d need a cigarette for this.”

Simon laughed and handed him a pack of cigarettes along with a lighter.   “I’ll leave you to it.”

And it really was that simple.  

His first visit with Justin hadn’t been as tough as he thought.  Justin had been in his wheelchair, pushed up to a table in the middle of some kind of activity center at the hospital, looking seriously unlike the guy he knew.  He was so pale, almost sickly.  Trace immediately thought of Justin’s welfare, rather than the resentment that lingered inside of him.  Was he eating, hell, was he even talking to anybody?

“Justin, it’s okay.” Had been the first thing he said to him.  “I’m right here.”

It seemed to take forever, but Justin finally looked up and into his face.  For a few moments, his expression was filled with shock and disbelief...but then...it warmed.  It was like, he awoke Justin from a nightmare simply because he’d shown himself.  

“You came back,” Justin croaked, the tears running in heavy trails down his pale face.

Trace only nodded a little.  He would have liked to tell Justin the truth from the start, but a strong part of him was advising against it.  He didn’t know how stable Justin was then, if he could even understand what happened...why he was back.  “Yeah, and you need to snap the fuck out of this...whatever it is you’re doing to yourself.”  He shook his head and lit up a much needed cigarette.  “It’s not worth it.”

Justin smiled, and from then on, whenever Trace would come to see him, he wasn’t as pale, wasn’t as sickly.  Simon was right, Justin did need him, and Trace felt a strange feeling come over him.  As if, he should have forgiven him that sixth or seventh visit in.  But then he would see somebody, like Lynn, or Elisha, and the waves of resentment would always return.  He was still bitter, and he couldn’t just forgive Justin.  It was too hard. It was much more fun to see just how confused he could make his friend, how crazy he could drive him.  In a way, Trace felt it was payback for all the times that Justin had driven him crazy in life.

It wasn’t getting him very far.

He began plotting his escape from the first time he realized there may have been a loophole in this world.  One day he returned from the Portal, frustrated and tired due to another one of Justin’s pathetic gripes about unfair his life was.  He thought he turned down the usual hallway that lead to the exit, but a few moments later realized he didn’t recognize where he was.  There was music playing, soft and welcoming.  Trace followed the sound until he saw the line of people moving down towards an open passage way.  There were guards everywhere, and his bracelet began to tingle against his skin in a way it never had before.  He immediately knew he was in a place he didn’t belong and ducked behind a large pillar before he could be discovered, continuing to observe what was going on.  Peering into the distance, he recognized the large swirling purple galaxy from the world he wasn’t allowed to be a part of.  He felt that longing again, the one that told him it was where he needed to be.

It was the entrance to the other side.

He almost cried.

These people had conquered their goals.  They were moving through to the Next Step, their bracelets falling off as they passed through the gaping passage, each of them being inspected carefully for proper credentials before they were finally allowed to pass.  Trace realized that sometimes the bracelets would stick, and the guard would have to use a small silver key to remove it by hand.

He needed a key like that.  He knew if he tried to make a run for that door with the bracelet on, something devastating would probably happen to him, and he couldn’t risk it.  He’d find a way though.  He promised himself, because he was smart and resourceful. Finally, he knew there was another way out of the Ward, a way around Simon and what the CEO wanted from him. He just needed time, and somebody he could trust to help him get what he needed to escape.

He didn’t realize an Earth month had passed until he tried going through the Portal one morning and was denied access.  It was the first time he ever felt his bracelet grow red hot.  The first time that horrific, painful shock shot through him, and he had fallen to his knees as he felt the energy being sucked out of his body.  Then the men came for him, their robes white and flowing, hauling him to his feet and back down to Simon’s office.  He was sitting there like always, his feet propped up on the desk like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Trace was dropped onto the floor like some kind of animal.

“So when were you going to decide to tell me that you weren’t making any progress?” Simon snapped at him.  “We’ve had two meetings, Trace.  You told me everything was working out, and I thought...I thought I could trust you to get the job done on your own.”

It was the first time Simon had ever sounded so cold towards him.

“I...I just...”

“You gave up,” Simon informed him.  “You’re too concerned about what you want, not what you’re supposed to be focusing on.”

Without another word, Simon pointed to a wall behind him with a small remote control and a screen immediately appeared.  Trace cringed at what he saw.  He took a side trip to visit Elisha what seemed like forever ago, with no intention to use the encounter for Justin’s benefit.  He still held some kind of love inside of him for her then, and he was worried about his baby.  He got into bed with her as she slept, not being able to help himself after he watched her cry for hours before finally passing out.  He touched her, rubbed her shoulders and kissed her cheek.  She stirred, moaned his name exhaustedly in her sleep but never woke up.  It gave him some kind of reassurance then, but he learned all too quickly how big of a mistake it was.  It didn’t help him to feel better, seeing her.  If anything, it made him feel more empty inside, because she didn’t know he was there.  Showing himself to her was pointless, because he knew how Elisha was, how she tended to freak out over the dumbest shit, and figured he’d only scare the crap out of her if he tried to talk to her.

He promised himself that he wouldn’t visit her again if he could help it.

“That’s...that’s not true...”  He tried to get up from the floor, but found he needed all of his energy to continue breathing at a normal pace.  He noticed the bracelet on his wrist was glowing an even brighter white now, and something told him it was made to control him, his energy, and to keep an eye on what he did and where he went.  

He’d already known getting it off was his ticket out of there, and resented Simon for keeping that from him. He wondered if Simon had one of the little silver keys hidden in his office someplace, and if so...was there a time that he could sneak in, unnoticed, and have a look around?   He figured that must have been the first step, getting Simon out and away from his office for a little while, but he was sure that was easier said than done, especially with the guards watching all the time.

The Ward was starting to seem more and more like a prison.  Simon was captain of the guard and the CEO was the warden that nobody ever saw in person.

“It is true.” Simon countered.  “You need to focus, Trace.  Do you think I want you going down as a bad number in my book?”

Trace glared at him.  “That’s what matters to you? Some fucking number?”

Simon only rolled his eyes.  “It’s my job, Trace.  If you ever move on, and fall into a position like mine, you’ll understand.”  He removed his feet from the top of the desk and got up from his chair.  Then he stalked over to where Trace had been dumped on the floor, tugging his bracelet wrist towards him, and moved his fingers along the top of it in some kind of methodical way, like he was entering a code that Trace couldn’t see with his own eyes. Then Simon released him, and soon, the weakness that had taken him over faded away. He began to feel normal again, and the urge to eat a big meal quickly hit him hard, like it had his arrival day.

“What happened to me?” Trace managed to ask.

“That’s what happens when you break the rules, Trace.  Fortunately for you, this is your first offense, so I’ll let you slide.  Don’t make me have to deal with you this way again.  You have another Earth month to fix this, so get with the program.”

He protested in anger, telling Simon just why it was that things weren’t working.  That not everyone could solve their problems simply because somebody had deemed it possible on a piece of paper.  But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Simon was angry, too angry to bother listening.

“Isolation.  Three days,” Simon boomed, before Trace could get another word in.

The men grabbed Trace by the arms before he could get back on his feet himself. He thrashed wildly against their grip, his dislike for Simon growing hot like fire in the pit of his stomach.  “What are you doing!” He screamed back at Simon.  “Where are you sending me!”

“Get with the program, Trace.”  Was the only thing Simon said, before Trace was dragged out of the office and back down the hallway.  He tried desperately to break free of the men’s grasp during that time, but it seemed impossible.  Their hands gripped him like vices, there was no escape.  His heart began to pound wildly in his chest then, the thought of where he was being taken and what would happen when he got there almost too much to bear with everything else he had going on.  He thought of Amy.  He’d promised to meet her that night. They were going to a movie.  What would she think when he didn’t show up? He realized he had no way to tell her what happened, or where’d he’d been taken.  A feeling of intense longing for her filled him up inside.

It was the first time it dawned on him that he’d fallen in love with her.

He was forced into an elevator with the guards.  It seemed to take forever for the thing to stop and open again, and when it did, he was pushed out into an empty, doorless hallway that gleamed a strange, bright white, like his bracelet did.  It seemed like a barren wasteland and for a few moments Trace thought they were just going to leave him there in the middle of the floor with no explanation.  That was when the banging started.  It sounded like it was coming from inside the walls but he hadn’t been sure, until he heard the pathetic cries of somebody trapped inside, begging to be let out.  It was as if the person could sense their presence.

And then he knew what was about to happen to him.

“Look, please...let me talk to Simon again,” he pleaded, as he skidded his feet along the slick glass like floor, desperately trying to prevent them from bringing him to his final destination as they dragged him further down the hall.  “I can explain everything!”

They didn’t say a word, just stopped him in front of a random spot on the wall.  One of the guards waved a hand in front of it, and a small device that looked like a blood pressure cuff popped out of the wall.  Trace was shoved forward, and he only stared at the thing.  “What is it?”

“Put your bracelet wrist in,” he was ordered.

“Screw you,” he grunted at them.

One of the men pulled a small metal rod out of his robes then, and stuck him in the side with it.  His bracelet grew hot as fire, lit up like the sun, and then he heard it.  That disgusting, horrible sound.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“No!”  He clutched at his ears.  “Please! Please turn it off!”

The sound subsided a moment later.

“Put your bracelet wrist in,” he was ordered again.

This time he did it, his eyes watery, his head feeling like it was about to split in half.  The portion of the wall lit up the moment he put his wrist in, and the cuff had locked around his bracelet.  A voice came from someplace up above.  It was a woman’s voice.  The same one he heard the day he’d been flushed into the Ward.  “Trace...case number 50743...three days without contact or meals.”

The cuff was released, the wall began to glow an even brighter white, and it slide apart before his eyes.  He was pushed through the opening by the guards, and when he turned around to plead with them some more, he was answered by the wall sealing shut behind him.  “No!” He screamed pointlessly and pounded on the newly sealed portion of wall.  “No! Open it! Let me out!”

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

It lasted longer this time, so long that he thought his brains might spill out of his ears as he gripped them tightly and slid down to the floor.  He begged to make it stop, for somebody to help him.  And then it did stop.  He cowered in the corner of the brilliant white room, his head in his hands, traumatized by what had just taken place.  It was only when he heard laughter that he’d been able to perk up, and when his vision finally cleared, that was when he realized the purpose of the place.

It was like the Portal, only slightly different.  There was no swirling sea of colors this time, only an open space at the other end of the room.  He realized he was looking directly into Justin’s life again, and there was no way to stop it.  This place was forcing him to pay attention, to either go handle business or stay alone in the little locked room.  Trace would have rather done anything but sit alone in that place, so he followed the laughter, walked through the space in the wall, and found himself in Justin’s life again.  He stood in the center of the room, invisible for the moment, and watched Justin as he sat on the couch with that girl named Sheridan. Even though it had been weeks, he still couldn’t understand why Justin was so taken by her.  In the past he knew Justin wouldn’t have given Sheridan Williams a second glance, but now it was as if she was his saving grace.  The only person that could make him smile and stay sane enough to function.  They were arguing over the remote playfully as the channels changed.  Justin finally managed to snatch the remote from her, and ended their struggle by pulling her down towards him and holding her.  Trace wanted to gag himself, resenting the fact that Justin was having such a happy moment while he was being made to suffer.

Of course, he didn’t dislike her as much as he had in the beginning, not completely.  In the beginning he deemed her has a distraction, and when Justin wouldn’t take his advice and dump her, he decided to fuck with her instead.  Have his voice come over the radio while she was driving, pretend to be Elisha over the internet, say nasty things so she’d get the hint...maybe go away.  But she didn’t, so he took the next step.  He went to spy on her at a nightclub one night that she went out with a friend, figuring he could scare her into leaving Justin if he made his presence known to her.  For the first time, he decided to show himself to somebody other than his best friend.  He was curious about the girl and figured he could play it safe by coming off as somebody else, as he was almost positive she had no clue what he looked like.  She seemed put off by him at first, when he’d introduced himself as Juan.  But soon, he persuaded her to dance with him, and she seemed to take a liking to him after that first song.

And as much as he hated it, he seemed to take a liking to her too.  He saw her go off on her own the day after they’d met, so he followed her.  She seemed delighted to see him again, so he took it upon himself to take her to the beach.  He was able to conjure up a car to drive somehow, just by asking, and he figured Isolation must have run by different guidelines.  It seemed to allow whoever had been cast away to do whatever they felt they needed to do, and that was fine with him.  It made his time there just a little bit easier.

They sat in the sand and talked for a while.  Trace discovered that Sheridan was a kind, bright, funny girl who seemed to care a lot about people, and about Justin most of all.  She liked being his friend too, and he was able to talk to her, to give her advice, and it made him feel good.    He decided to ease up after that, accept Sheridan more because she seemed to make Justin a little happier.  And if Justin was happier, it made his job that much easier.  Still, he didn’t really know if Justin should have been dating anybody.  He was concerned he would hurt her, or something would happen and Sheridan would think he was crazy.   Then he thought about it some more, and realized that maybe...maybe Sheridan could help him figure all this shit out.  Show him the way to complete his goals and move on.

It was a long shot, but it was something he decided to keep in the back of his mind a last resort.

Then their conversation had grown awkwardly quiet.  Like when they’d danced to the semi slow song in the club, and he pulled her close to him.  She seemed to melt into the moment after a while, liking how his hands felt on her body, and hadn’t pushed him away.  This time was no different.  She was looking into his eyes, and smiling at him.  Practically willing him into her comfort.  Trace had been so fucked up because of Isolation and the buzzing and the pain, that he’d almost needed Sheridan more than Justin did that day.  He found himself gently pushing her down into the sand and crawling on top of her.  She didn’t seem to view him any differently.  It was like, he wasn’t dead to her at all.  He was normal.  He had a life, and he forgot himself.

Trace kissed her.  Then it escalated.  Then they’d made out right there on the beach.

It was a strange feeling.  He felt numb.  He couldn’t feel the warmth of her lips or her body on his.  He only felt coldness, emptiness, and he wondered how she felt when she touched him.  He stopped kissing her then, and she’d gotten uneasy, told him she couldn’t kiss him because...well she didn’t need to say it.  She loved Justin.

He felt lost and bitter inside.  

He didn’t think he would never have that again.

It occurred to him that Justin would be fine as long as Sheridan stuck around, whether he decided to forgive him or not.  Really, he was wasting his time, and that was when the pool scenario had occurred to him.  It was risky, but he figured if Justin saw him in a serene setting, playing golf with an imaginary Halle Berry serving beers, it would have been enough for the CEO to let him move on.  So he did it.  Justin had nearly drowned of course, pissed his doctor off and all of that, but it had worked to Trace’s benefit in a way.  They’d said goodbye, Trace hadn’t said anything about forgiveness but he’d condoned Sheridan’s presence in Justin’s life and figured that was good enough for Simon.

It wasn’t of course.

He was released from Isolation after that, practically ignored the lecture he received from Simon about how what he’d done couldn’t be considered anything close to a completed goal, and took some extra time for himself once he got back to the hotel.  Amy had been waiting for him that first day, and cried into his chest because she’d been so worried.  It picked him up a bit, helped him to regain some of the energy he lost from not being fed, and being all alone.  

He stopped going to his Portal for the most part after that.  He decided to let Justin have a run on his own for a while, figuring he could handle it.  He made one or two trips back, because he had an overwhelming desire to talk to Sheridan a little bit more, but it didn’t last long, and soon he wasn’t going to his Portal at all. When Simon didn’t summon him for a while, Trace figured he was getting away with it.  He spent more time with Amy, let her see the side of him that wasn’t so tense, and she seemed to become even closer to him because of this.  He told her his plan to get a key, and even though she smiled like she thought it was a good idea, Trace knew she felt differently.

“It’s the only logical way to get out of this place,” he persisted.  “Come on Amy, it’s so simple that it’s ridiculous.”  

“But Trace,” she said softly.  “I really think you might...need this closure from Justin.  Maybe the CEO has his or her reasons.  Maybe you should keep trying before you do something drastic.”

“No,” he said automatically.  “I did the best I could.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short. I think you could be a lot happier than you are if you let yourself focus on your goals.”

He glared at her.  “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am.”  She grasped his hand tightly in hers.  “I’m just saying...you’re taking a risk.  You don’t know what Simon is capable of.  You already had to go into Isolation for three days, and if he finds out you’ve been ditching Portal...”

“I don’t care what that scrawny little fucker thinks anymore,” he snapped at her and yanked his hand out of hers.  “Nothing I do is good enough to please him, so I’m done.”

“You’re still so bitter, Trace,” Amy pointed out to him.  “You don’t realize it sometimes, but I know you are.  You can’t blame Justin forever.”

“And you’re so damn perfect?”  Trace got up from the sofa they’d been sitting on together and began to pace the room.  “Your own father shot you in the woods because he wasn’t paying enough attention.  You can’t tell me that you completely forgive him for it.”

She was silent.  

It was a low blow and he had a nerve saying something like that to her.  After all, it was the truth but she’d fixed her situation for the most part.  The goals to reconnect her parents and forgive her father for what happened were working out well for her.  She had an easy time seeking forgiveness, moving on from what happened to her, when he wasn’t distracting her anyway.  Trace knew it was because she’d been a forgiving person in life.  She wasn’t all about business like he’d been.  Her life hadn’t been a twenty four hour media circus, filled with scheduling conflicts, and a stubborn, sometimes arrogant employer / best friend.  She’d been a college student, studying to become a vet.  She minored in theater, did small shows on the weeks she had off from school.  It was a laid back lifestyle, and because of this, reaching her goals was easier for her.  Trace wished he could have told her that too, but knew she wouldn’t have understood.

“I have to use the Portal before Simon gets suspicious.”  She rose from the sofa and slipped her clogs on.  “He’s watching both of us closely, you’re crazy if you think he’s not.  Maybe...it’s best if we don’t see each other for a while.  You need to focus, Trace.  You need to start moving past what happened to you.”

“Amy don’t be like that.” He started toward her, as if she would stop.  She was his lifeline...his only friend, and he was about to lose her because of his pigheadedness.  “I didn’t mean it.  You know that.  I...I love you.”

She stared at him, her expression cold, and uninviting.  “I have to go.”

He took another step toward her, but she left his room without another word.

Then he was alone again.  Completely alone.  He tried looking for Amy at dinner over the next few days, but she never showed.  Part of him began to worry, but he knew she was simply avoiding him.  He didn’t blame her.  He acted like an asshole and he didn’t deserve her sympathy anymore.  Still, he felt like a piece of crap, and to make matters worse, he wasn’t any closer to getting a key, or to completing his goals.  He knew it was only a matter of time before Simon looked into his case again, and he didn’t want to be in that situation.  He didn’t want to give Simon a chance to throw him back into Isolation.

He knew he had to act.

First, he decided to make a safety trip to his Portal.  It had been awhile, and because he’d spied on a conversation Justin held with his doctor through the bedroom window, he knew that it was the perfect time for him to show up.  Justin was about to be faced with the parallel bars again, something he struggled with since the time he’d first become paralyzed, and it was imperative that he was successful this time.  

The welfare of the baby depended on it.

Justin took his first step because of him.  Trace had to channel nearly all of his energy to make it so, but with good reason.  Justin needed to go see Elisha, the girl he’d forced himself to stop loving...to forget about. He had no choice but to be concerned about her now though, to focus on her a little bit.  It wasn’t so much for her though as it was for the baby. The baby he was desperate to protect and take care of in the only way he could, which was through Justin.  He begged Justin to do something after Elisha had told him about the pregnancy, to help her, to take care of his child for him.

And Justin promised him that he would do it, no matter what.  He would leave the ranch, leave Sheridan’s side and do it because it was what Trace wanted.

Deep inside, he knew it would ultimately hold Justin back, but he didn’t feel bad about it.  He felt like Justin deserved it, that he should take care of the baby with Elisha to make up for what he’d done.

He didn’t want to forgive Justin.  He figured entrusting him with the baby’s care was enough to show that he at least trusted Justin again.  It was the best he could do.

He stalked Simon for the rest of the week, marking the times he went into the office, when he left to eat his lunch, when he returned, and when he left for the evening.  Trace found that all these things happened at the same time each day.  It was too easy.  He could search the office and be out twenty minutes, undetected.  And if he was successful...

If he was successful he’d never have to think about Justin ever again.

But he knew he couldn’t do it alone.  The guards were always a problem, and Trace knew he would be walking in blind if he didn’t have a look out.  But who the hell could be his lookout?

He was knocking on a familiar door a few hours later, once he convinced himself that she’d always stood by him and that now couldn’t have been any different, even if she was mad at him.

The door opened, and she was there in a towel, her hair dripping wet.  She gasped when she laid eyes on him.  “Trace...”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “Can I talk to you?”

Amy shook her head a little.  “I can’t.”

He put his foot in the doorway as she tried to close it in his face.  “Why?”

The tears in her eyes gave her away.  Somebody had gotten to her.  Somebody was trying to keep them apart.  “Is it Simon?” he asked her angrily.

“I just...”

“Tell me!”

She sighed heavily and looked down either side of the hallway before quickly pulling him inside her room and shutting the door.  “This doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed off at you.”  She began to pace back and forth.  “But...but I shouldn’t have just walked out on you.  I was just afraid.  I thought they would hurt us both if I kept seeing you.  At first Simon was a little supportive of us being together, but ever since you made him angry, he just hasn’t felt the same about it.”  She crossed the room and sat down on her lush pink sofa, grabbing the towel tighter to her chest.  “He said bad things would happen if I kept seeing you, and when...when you said all that stuff about my dad and escaping I just caved in because I was angry.”

Trace balled his fists at his sides.  It wasn’t enough that he’d lost his life and was being forced to face the issues he left behind, now Simon was trying to take his only happiness in the place away from him too.  “You can’t believe him, Amy.  He’s trying to control you.”

She quivered a little as she looked down at her lap.  “He turned the buzzer on me the last time, and he would have thrown me in Isolation if I hadn’t told him I would do as he said,” she whispered.  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.  But...I don’t know what he’ll do next time.  I”m...I’m so scared, Trace.”

He quickly crossed the room and sat next to her as she began to cry, and pulled her close to his chest, pressing his nose into her wet hair.  “Come with me,” he whispered to her.  “I...I want to go look through Simon’s office tonight.  You can help.  We can try to get out tomorrow when they open the line again, if we find the key.”

She shook her head hard.  “We’ll get caught.  I know we will.”

“Nothing bad will happen.” He promised her.  “I know what I’m doing, Amy.  We can’t stay here like this.  They’re against us now.”

“But my goals...” she sniffled and managed to look up at him.  “They’re almost done.  Simon says if I finish, he’ll let me leave here like I’m supposed to.”

He stared at her.  “So you don’t want to leave with me?”

She hung her head low.  “I...I do...”

“Then we have to do it this way,” he persisted.  “You know we’ll never find each other again if we leave separately, and...I can’t lose you.  You’re all I have.”

She touched his face gently, gazing at him as if she never wanted to let him go.  “Did you mean what you said?  That...you love me.”

He pulled her close to him, and answered her question with a long kiss on the mouth.  “Yeah,” he said to her softly as their kiss broke.  “I do.”

She gave his hand a squeeze and the light returned to her eyes.  “Then let’s try.”

He smiled.

They snuck out of the hotel in the dead of night.  Of course there was no curfew at the Ward, but he was sure a guard would start asking them questions if they were discovered taking the Speedotram to the offices together at that hour.  They kept low profiles, ducking into doorways, and hiding behind buildings whenever Trace thought there might have been somebody coming.  Even getting a train was hard, because a change of the guards was taking place when they got to the station, and Trace had to yank Amy down a corridor and behind some empty crates just so they wouldn’t be spotted.  Trace could feel her pressing her face into his arm the entire time.  He knew how terrified she was, but it only made him more determined to succeed.  It only took minutes, but to Trace, it seemed to take an eternity as they were huddled in that small space.  Then the footsteps and the bustle of the shift change ended.

“Just wait a few more minutes,” Amy told him in a rushed whisper when he began to emerge from their hiding place.  “Somebody may have lingered.”

He didn’t want to, but he did it for her.  Soon enough, he convinced her that it was safe, and pulled her out of the space by the hand.  They took the first tram that came along, which thankfully enough, seemed to be deserted.  They were whisked away, arriving at the Wards industrial park in just minutes, and Trace quickly rushed them off the tram and into the doorway of an unmarked building.  “You okay?” He turned to her and placed his hands on her face, rubbing his thumbs along her jawline.

She nodded, and took a deep breath.  “What now?”

“We go in,” he nodded.  “And hope that Simon’s office isn’t locked.”

Her eyes widened a little.  “You didn’t check on that?”

He shrugged.  “I didn’t think about it.”

She seemed let down by this, and began to hesitate.  “Trace...maybe...”

“Hey,” he spoke over her.  “Amy, I have this under control.  All right?”

She nodded very rapidly, but Trace wasn’t convinced she was confident in his plan anymore.  Still, they were right outside of the offices.  They’d come too far to turn back, so he just breathed out heavily and took her by the hand, looking around cautiously before they ran across to the stone steps of the office building.  The doors parted open for them, as they always did, and Trace got them inside without incident.  There was nobody at the reception desk, like there was in the daytime, but Trace knew it was after hours and they only kept the building open so people could come and use the portals in an emergency.  

They moved seamlessly through the corridor, holding their breaths, barely making a sound as they reached the elevators.  Trace pressed the up button quickly and stole a look back at Amy.  She was chewing her bottom lip nervously and staring hard at the metal elevator doors, as if she could open them with her mind if she stared hard enough.

Trace squeezed her hand.

The elevator ride was silent, and Trace made sure they got off on Simon’s floor.  He signaled Amy to be quiet with a finger pressed to his lips as they stepped into the hallway, and Trace was thankful that he had the location of Simon’s office memorized, as there was barely enough light in the hall to see where he was going.  He counted the doors, knowing Simon’s was the fifth door on the right side, holding his breath as he gripped Amy’s hand tighter with one hand and tried the doorknob with his free one.

The door opened.

“Oh god,” Amy whispered, barely audible.  “Trace...”

He pulled her inside, and the lights in the office snapped on instantly.  For a moment they both froze, for fear that it might have been an alarm, but then calmed down when no buzzes or voices came about.  It was just a courtesy light, in case Simon decided to come into the office before the sun had risen.  Trace nearly snorted at the prospect of Simon working any sort of overtime.  

“Here, stand by the door,” he told Amy quickly.  “Listen for noises, okay?”

She just nodded.  “Hurry, Trace.”

He didn’t answer, just went to work.  He started at the bookcase, but found nothing of interest there, let alone a key.  There was a chest of drawers that came next, and Trace’s heart fluttered a little when he found spare security bracelets inside, but as he dug through the mass of them, he found no keys, and sighed in frustration.  The only other option left then was the desk, and Trace prayed that the drawers weren’t locked.

He tried the bottom left first.  It was a file drawer, each tab possessing the name and case number of each of Simon’s clients.  He nearly shut the drawer before the curiosity start to nag at him, and he couldn’t help himself.  He quickly found his name and pulled out his file, throwing it open on top of the desk, coming face to face with a picture of himself clipped to a thick pile of papers.  He wasn’t sure where the picture had been taken, but he was certain he’d already been dead.  He looked overwhelmed.  Trace wondered if it was from that first day in the hallway.  If so, he had a hell of a lot more color in his cheeks then, and his face was fuller too, as if he’d been well fed.  He hadn’t even realized how much weight he’d lost since he’d been in the Ward.

He moved the picture aside with disgust, and began to read the top page:

Deceased: Juan Romero Ayala III a.k.a Trace Ayala

Case number: 50743

Years lived: 1981-2005

Cause of death: Motor Vehicle Accident

Goal Status: Incomplete (0/2)

Comments: Trace has been an incorrigible candidate.  His relationships with those on earth, seem to put him in a deeper state of depression the more he travels through the Portal network.  It is in my expert opinion at this time, that he should not be recommended for the Next Step as he is unwilling to complete his goals as described.  An extended stay in Isolation may be the key to an adjustment in his attitude, pending CEO approval.

He gritted his teeth in anger as he read the comment paragraph once more, and he felt the tears threaten to spill out of his eyes as he stared at his full name.  Seeing it reminded him of so much.  It reminded him of his family.  More things about his mom and dad...his siblings that he’d completely forgotten.  It reminded him of those he grew up with.  Of Rachael.  Christ, he had forgotten about her too.

How could he have forgotten about her?  Aside from Justin, she’d probably been his best friend.  The fury he felt for Simon grew.  The bastard had kept this information from him, so he wouldn’t be able to remember.  He’d been fucking brainwashed.  

“Trace?”

He realized he was sobbing, and quickly snapped out of it at the sound of her voice.  

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing...nothing.”  He tried to shove the file back in it’s folder, but Amy pushed his hand aside and grabbed the packet out of his reach.  He watched as she read the top page, the intense realization of why he was upset quickly spreading across her face.

“Juan?” She smiled slightly when she was through reading.  

“Dad’s name,” he muttered.  “I remembered that part.  I just...the last name was what I forgot.”

She nodded.  “Simon’s an arrogant prick,” she said to him, her tone filled with hate as she shoved the file back at him.  “I wonder what happened when he died.  I bet he fucked up really good, and they made him work here.”

He would have laughed if he weren’t so overcome with emotion at the moment.  “I just remembered like...my entire life just now.”  He shook his head.  “How can he keep that from us, Amy?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know, and I don’t think you should be questioning it.  Obviously this is how they do things.”

“But...it’s wrong,” he persisted.

She hugged him quickly.  “Trace, the key,” she reminded him.  “I’ll talk about this with you later but we don’t have time to think about it right now.”

She was right, and he took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry.”

“Just look for the key,” she persisted, as she returned to her spot by the door.

He shoved his file down his pants while she wasn’t looking.  Surely the contract that he’d signed was stapled along with the other papers.  He didn’t know what good it would do him if he messed with it, but he figured if anything...it would piss Simon off, and he didn’t mind doing that.  He also grabbed Amy’s file as well, knowing that she would want to read it when they were in safety again.  Then he began to search the other drawers, finding them filled with nothing but junk and office supplies.  A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach when he finished searching the small pen drawer in the center of the desk.  It was all for nothing.  He’d put Amy’s future on the line, promising her he could find the key for them, and there was no key.

He slammed the drawer shut angrily.

That was when he heard it.  A hollow sound, like something had just dropped open underneath the desk.  He crouched down quickly, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.  Trace knew better though.  Simon was a sneaky bastard, and sneaky bastards had hiding places.  He felt a small smile tug at his lips as he opened the drawer again, more carefully this time.  He felt around underneath the various pens and pads that had been shoved inside, and felt a finger hole at the very back of the drawer.  “Amy.” He called out, his voice raised slightly.  “Amy I found something.”

She turned, and came closer to him.  “What is it?”

He pulled the fake base out of the drawer, and nearly fell to his knees when he saw them all.  Keys, about twenty of them.  Each with a specific name tag attached, one for every active client in Simon’s file.  “Look at this.”

She came around the desk, and he heard her gasp.  “Jesus.”

“Here, take these.”  He pulled two keys out of the drawer, one with his name and one with hers.  “Put them in your bra.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You know you’ve done it with other stuff,” he snickered.

“This is vile.”  She shoved the keys in her bra and let out a breath.  “Happy?”

He kissed her lips quickly.  “Let’s get out of here.”

They were halfway across Simon’s office when they heard it.  Somebody whistling, their footsteps quickly drawing closer to where they were.  “Shit.”  His eyes scanned the room frantically for a place to hide.  There was space behind a large chair in the corner of the room, but it was only room enough for one person.  “Go hide over there.”  He pushed Amy towards the spot, and frantically began to put everything back into the drawer the way it had been.

“What about you?” She asked him, panicked.

“I’ll figure it out.  Go!”

She did it, and Trace felt a small pang of relief when she disappeared from his view.  He finished putting the items back in the drawer and closed it, scanning the room rapidly for another hiding place.  The only other option seemed to be underneath the desk, and Trace knew that it wouldn’t be a terrible place to hide as long as whoever it was didn’t decide to come around the other side of it.  As the footsteps stopped in front of the door, Trace knew he was out time, and quickly dove behind the desk without trying to think of another option.

The door clicked open, and the whistling grew louder as whoever it was entered the room.  The front of the desk was solid, so Trace couldn’t see anything that was going on, but he began to pray for a miracle.  Pray that it was simply a guard who had seen the light turned on and decided to come turn it off.  He covered his mouth, feeling as if his breathing was as loud as a sound amplifier, and mentally begged Amy to do the same thing.

“I told you that I’m sick of his shit, Daisy.  No, I’m done with chances.  Why should he get treated differently?  Yes...yes...yes I know.  I know what the CEO wants but...”  

It was fucking Simon.  Trace had never been more scared since he’d been at the Ward.  Getting caught like this, hiding in the guy’s office with files and keys shoved in their clothes, would probably earn each of them a one way ticket into Isolation.

“No, I won’t until you tell me,” he said, the aggravation in his voice obvious.  “Yes, ma’am.  Good night.”

Trace heard something hard plop down on the top of the desk.  He didn’t breathe.

“Stupid cunt.”

Simon began to whistle again.  Trace recognized the song automatically, as it had been drilled into his head one too many times.  It was surreal.  Here he was, trapped in an office with Simon, and the song he decided to whistle was fucking Bye, Bye, Bye?  Visions of Justin flashed through his mind, and Trace almost...needed him then.  If Justin had been there, they would have thought of a solution to the issue immediately.  They were a team.  Brothers.  They would have gotten each other out, and Amy too.

Trace missed his friend, and realized he hadn’t allowed himself to think that way about him since he died.

Unfortunately, his timing was off, and he forced himself to get it together.  Justin would have to wait.

“Fucking housekeeping,” Simon cut his whistling short and Trace heard him shifting things around.  His thoughts immediately went to Amy, and he prayed that Simon wouldn’t move the chair she was hiding behind. “Looks like somebody ransacked my office.”

Then Simon was right there, right in front of him.  His black dress pants covering half of the opening that lead underneath the desk.  Trace pulled his knees as close to his chest as he possibly could and pressed his face against them.  Please...

A drawer opened.  The bottom left.  Trace was going to hurl.

“What the hell is going on?”

Simon knew something was missing, and when Trace heard him yank open the center draw and remove it’s false bottom, he was sure Simon knew it was more than just files.

“Son of a bitch,” Simon grunted.

The drawer banged shut.

He heard something being picked up from the top of the desk, then there were tones, like when you pressed the buttons on a touch tone phone.  

“Yeah, hello?  This is Simon. Make sure the gateway is sealed off and get your men together.  Somebody has been going through my office.  I’m missing two files and two security keys.  Take these names.  Trace Ayala, Amy Strife.  I want them brought to me.  Now.”

He hung up.

They had to get out.  Trace willed Simon out, away, anyplace but right there in front of the desk.  The phone rang, Simon picked up.

“I’ll be right there.”

The whistling started again, the footsteps traveled to another part of the room and then the lights went off.  The door opened and slammed shut again.

He was gone.

“Trace.” Amy hissed.  “Trace where are you?”

He crawled out from underneath the desk, gasping for a breath, knowing how close they had both come to getting caught.  “I’m here.”  He called, when he didn’t see her.

She came out from behind the chair.  “This place is going to be swarming with guards in five minutes.”

He nodded but didn’t look at her.  He desperately tried to think of someplace they could go, hide, until the morning.  He thought of Justin again, what he would do.  The Portal.  Couldn’t they hide there?  Trace knew they couldn’t be followed if they did.  Simon and the guards didn’t know where Justin lived...right?  Would it work?  Would they be stopped?  “The Portal,” he suggested to her.

Her eyes widened.  “How far are we?”

“One floor down,” he told her softly.  “Come on, we can hide at Justin’s.”

“Can I even come with you?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he chuckled then, even though his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and he grabbed her hand again.

The hall was clear, strangely enough, so they ran for it, reaching the elevators seconds later.  Amy frantically pushed the up button, and then...they saw another button light up on the second set of elevator doors.  It meant somebody was on their way up to that floor again.

“Come on, come on...” Trace willed their elevator to beat it’s partner.

The doors dinged open welcomingly and they ran onto the elevator just as the second set of doors dinged open behind them.  He heard a voice.

“Trace! I know it’s you and that bitch! Get off the elevator!”

“Simon.” Amy whimpered.

The doors closed, and they both heard the horrific buzzing begin out in the hallway.  For some reason though, it couldn’t follow them onto the elevator, and they breathed out a relieved sigh.  The moment was short lived though.  The elevator reached it’s destination all too quickly, and Trace knew there was a good chance Simon and the others could be waiting for them.  But it was a chance he was willing to take.  Then the elevator doors parted, Trace held his breath...

But there was nobody there waiting for them.  They were still one step ahead of Simon and his guards.

“Come on.”  

He yanked Amy along behind him, and forced them through the first portal that came along.  They both got through without any problems, and Trace told it to take them to Justin’s, to safety.  Then the serene backyard appeared before them.  The sun was just beginning to rise over the Hollywood hills, and he collapsed onto the soft grass with her in his arms.

“Where are we?” She asked after she’d managed to catch her breath.  

“Justin’s backyard,” he panted.  “So there’s your answer.  Yes, you can come through with me.”

She leaned her head back against his chest.  “What’s going to happen?”

He shook his head, suddenly remembering the keys, and their bracelets.  He looked down at his wrist.  The thing was invisible right now of course, but when Trace felt around for it, he found it right away.  “Get the keys out.”

She reached into her bra, and quickly retrieved the things they’d worked so hard and risked so much to get.  Trace held Amy’s in his hand, and when he did, her bracelet came into view.  ‘Here.”  He pulled her hand closer to him and began to poke the key around the bracelet, trying to find where the lock was, or to make it appear.

It didn’t do anything.  The bright red light continued to blink on and off.

“No...”  He shook her wrist.  “No...come on...”

“Trace.”

He barely heard her at first.  He was too busy frantically trying to make the thing work, because he knew if it didn’t, they were trapped.  The moment they stepped out of Justin’s sanctuary, Simon would be waiting for them, and he knew...he just knew how bad things would get.  

“I think we have to be at the gateway for it to work,” Amy told him, her voice more stern this time.  “Trace!”

She steadied his hand, because he wouldn’t stop poking the key around.  “I can’t believe this,” he dropped the key and sobbed, putting a hand to his forehead in despair.  “What are we going to do?”

She shook her head.  “I don’t know.”

They took in the rest of the sunrise silently together, and for the first time, Trace allowed himself to cry on her shoulder while she rubbed her hand in a circular motion across back.  He felt like he’d failed her.  He’d been so adamant that they do this so they could be together, and really...he’d acted in haste.  He should have researched more, been more prepared, but he was just too desperate to get out of the Ward.  It had warped his mind, and now they were trapped.

“What’s in your pants?”

He looked up at her after a long while, and wiped at his eyes before feeling around the back of his pants, remembering the files he’d hidden there automatically.  “The files.”  He pulled them out and laid them on the grass.

Amy’s eyes widened.  “Trace! He’ll kill us both!”

“Hmm, yeah.” Trace shrugged.  “But we’re already dead.”

“Oh...right.”

He looked back at her, she laughed, and he was finally able to do it too.

They looked through their files together, Trace proving himself right when he found his contract, and debated on ripping it up before Amy told him not to.

“Something bad could happen,” she warned him.  “Leave it for now.”

He agreed with her, and simply closed his file and handed it over to her so he couldn’t be tempted.  

“You were right about the last name thing,” she told him quietly as she shoved their files down her pants.  “I remember a lot of stuff about...before.  Things I needed to remember.”

He huffed.  “They can’t do this to people, Amy.”

“They shouldn’t,” she countered.  “But we can’t stop them.”

“Maybe we can talk to the CEO.”

“The CEO?” Amy laughed.  “Whoever the CEO is, I’m sure they know what goes on at the Ward.”

Trace shrugged.  “It’s like any corporate head though.  Half the time these people are so busy, they don’t know half the stuff that goes on in their companies.”

“You sure know a lot about business.”

“I was kind of an entrepreneur,” Trace smirked.

“You never did tell me who this Justin fellow is,” Amy told him after a moment.  “But he sure has a lot of money.  This house is massive.”

Trace never told her, because in his previous life, when he’d told people about who his best friend was, what his job was, they’d tend to like him for all the wrong reasons.  Even in death, Trace was still weary about it.  “Justin Timberlake.”  He told her finally, knowing that he loved her, and didn’t want to keep anything a secret from her anymore.

“Shit, no kidding,” she chuckled.  “My kid sister used to idolize him when he was in that boyband.”

“Most people still do.”

“So...what happened to him? I mean, I know you said you have to give him closure because he was driving the car when you had the accident, but you didn't tell me what happened to him.”

He sighed and looked back at the rising sun again, knowing it was early, but that Justin had always been an early riser anyway.  “I’ll show you.”

He led her into the house, and smiled a little as he watched her take it all in.  It was fun for him in a way, to show her what part of his life used to be like, and he wondered if she would ever get the opportunity to show him where she used to live.  He would have liked to see it, to get a look at her family, to know more about her life.  

“I’m so hungry,” Amy reminded him as they drew closer to the kitchen, where the scent of bacon and pancakes being cooked filled their nostrils.

“Don’t remind me,” Trace muttered, knowing they more than likely couldn’t eat any of the food, since they were dead.

When they got into the kitchen, Trace immediately spotted Justin at the table, reading glasses on, going over some kind of documents on the table.  Lynn was at the stove, putting the finishing touches on a grand looking breakfast, and Rachael was there too, seeming to be handling some kind of business issue over the phone for Justin.

Rachael.

He smiled when he saw her.  She looked good, but sad, and all he’d wanted to do then was talk to her, to tell her he remembered her and he always would.  But with Amy there, he felt funny showing himself to anybody.  It was something that was private...his, and so he hesitated.

“He’s in a wheelchair,” Amy pointed out.

Trace nodded as he lingered over his best friend.  “Paralyzed from the waist down.”

“I’m...sorry.”r32;

“Yeah,” he responded sadly.  “Me too.”

“I guess...I mean, you’re situation is really different Trace.  I’m sorry I didn’t understand.”

He shook his head and took her hand when she held it out for him.  “I shouldn’t have expected you to.”

They watched as breakfast was served, with wide, hungry eyes.  Trace even tried to take something, because Amy seemed much more famished than he was, but it didn’t work.  His hand wouldn’t connect with anything, it just went through the food like he wasn’t even there.  Part of him wondered if he would be able to get the food if he made himself visible, but knew it was a bad idea to try.  “I’m sorry,” he told her.  

“We’re not going to be able to stay for long,” she told him sadly.  “We’re going to get weak without any food, and the bracelets...look at them.”

They were glowing brightly around their wrists now, completely visible even though they were on Earth.  Trace noticed that the little blinking lights had changed from red to blue too.  

“I think they’re tracing us somehow,” Amy told him.  “We probably only have the rest of this Earth day before we have to go back.”

Trace didn’t want to accept that fact, but knew how smart Amy was.  They couldn’t survive.  They’d grow weaker, and Trace didn’t know what happened once you were too weak to move.  Did you disappear?  Were you hunted down like a dog?  He didn’t want to find out.

“Maybe I can get some food if I show myself,” Trace told her after a moment, suddenly remembering a time he’d visited Justin at the ranch and picked up a roll to make himself look more realistic to his friend.  He hadn’t tasted anything when he put it in his mouth though, but he was desperate, ready to try anything to keep them in safety.

She shook her head.  “I tried that once at my parent's house.  It didn’t work.”

He sighed.  “I don’t know what’s going to happen if we go back.  I don’t know if Simon is going to be waiting for us or not.”

“We tried,” she told him sadly.  “We did everything we could, Trace.  If Simon wasn’t going to be waiting at the Portal entrance, I’d say we should make a run to the gateway...but he’s going to be, or at least the guards will.”