Running From Death
Chapter One – Ten Seconds Can Change Your Life
It is amazing how a mere ten seconds can change your life forever. I learned that the hard way. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten. As fast as that, my life as I knew it was on hold at best and over at worst. Those ten seconds occurred about 36 hours ago and I'm now sitting in an SUV with complete strangers who are the gatekeepers. They will determine if my life was on hold or gone forever; existing only as memories that I could never share but for certain would haunt me for the rest of my days.
As the car speeds down the interstate, I stare out the window only vaguely registering the chatter of the others in the car. They are working out details of how I'll be spending the foreseeable future and their part in it. I pay them no mind. I am powerless in the matter. It is not something I've felt or been for years and years. I am impotent and right now I am too numb to even care. I am amazed at how different the landscape is here. There are miles and miles of unremarkable scenery. There are a lot of trees, small bodies of water and low-lying structures. There isn't a skyscraper in sight. No yellow cabs or trucks or buses jockeying for position inching forward in city traffic. Just miles of open road.
I have paid enough attention to know that I am in Louisiana. I'm headed towards a small town of Bon Temps where I will start over. I can start over. It won't be comfortable, but I have built myself up once I am confident that I can do it again. Although I am not sure what I will do. I'm sure that the others will have some input. There are limits now to my freedom. Not only will I be starting over in a new location about as far removed from New York City as can be, but I will also have to start a new career. The others have told me that it would be too dangerous for me to do anything remotely related to what my career has been for the past 9 years. I feel so detached right now. One of the many faces that I have met with over the last 36 hours told me that I would be feeling this way.
Early on I had kept fighting it. I had stubbornly refused to acknowledge that things would never be the same. I insisted on charging head first back into my regular routine. They wouldn't allow it though. I was permitted very limited phone calls; mostly to wrap up a couple of business matters. I argued and debated with everyone who came to speak to me. I thought with my skills of persuasion that I could make them see that I was safe where I was and could continue as if nothing had happened. When that didn't work, I suggested bodyguards until the danger passed. That did not work either. So here I am. In the stage of grim acceptance. I am in the witness protection program. My name used to be Eric Northman. Now, I don't know who I am.
I loved my life. I had it good, but I earned it. I worked hard. Up until those ten brief seconds, where my world came to a screeching halt, I had been principal in a private equity firm in Manhattan. I managed the wealth of some of the most prestigious families in the City, including the city's mayor. (Hence the allowance to make a few business calls before I was stripped of my life.) I was successful over the years and had accumulated my own wealth. I have had the world at my fingertips; trips to wherever-whenever I have wanted, a house in the Hamptons, a stylish and large apartment in the city, cars, the company jet at my disposal, and women. I have had my fair share, probably more than my fair share of women over the years. They have been socialites, stars, models. Wealth and power are aphrodisiacs for women. I had both. I'm also fairly good looking. It's not conceit that makes me say that. I've been told it all of my life. I stand at 6' 4", am quite muscular (and I work hard at it) and have blonde hair and blue eyes. My physical being is all I have left that is familiar. I hope that is one thing that they won't be able to take from me. God I wish I could replay that morning over again.
Something hadn't been quite right in the office over the last week. Franklin Mott, one of the other principals in the firm was served with some warrants. Men with black windbreakers had been in and out of his office all week. Since the warrants had been for his files alone, I wasn't bothered by the men. But, I was concerned. Franklin's team (each of us had our own team that we've built who worked on only our clients) had been scurrying around like rats. His secretary had been red-eyed more often than not. The word on the street is that Franklin had raided the state's pension fund and the teamsters' union pension fund as well. I had never been more thankful that we ran our own teams and that we did not share accounts or employees.
Franklin had been a friend for years and I was surprised to hear that he was involved in something like this. So when he called me and asked to go for a run in the Park with him yesterday morning, I felt like I owed him the chance to explain. I didn't want to head out so early to run, I would have preferred to just meet with my trainer in my home gym as I did most mornings, but I went out anyway. I wish that I would have stuck to my original plans. Had I been smart I would have told him to meet me later in the office, or taken him to lunch or even for a drive later on. But I decided to forgo my normal routine for the sake of an old friend and met him in the park. We had already completed the lower loop of the park, and Franklin had spent the first part of our run talking about how his life was completely fucked up, how he was on the verge of losing everything and to top it all off had been receiving threats at home and at work.
We had started on the upper loop, which was quite empty at 5:20 am; when I caught some movement ahead of us on one of the paths that cut through the center of the park. It all happened so fast. Two men came out from the paths, one in front of us, one behind us. I heard them call to Franklin, and I saw the glint of metal in their hands. They had guns. They had aimed their guns on Franklin and emptied. His body shook with convulsions as it was riddled with bullets. I had tried to distance myself from him somewhat, but I was still sprayed with some of his blood. My life flashed before my eyes. I couldn't believe that was how I was going to die. I had so much more that I wanted to do. So many years left. I had been preparing to meet my maker, when I heard sounds of tires on the pavement behind me. The attackers had heard it too. I looked in the eyes of the man in front of me and watched him try to decide if he had time to 'take care' of me too. Their target was Franklin, and they took care of him. In the end, they decided to run. I walked over to where Franklin lay, bleeding out on the pavement, when a mini NYPD vehicle pulled up behind us.
From there it really became a blur for a while. More cops descended upon the scene. I had people asking me all sorts of questions. One cop handed me a cup of the crappiest coffee ever, but I was happy to have something in my hands to focus on. The sky wasn't dark anymore, and I could see the glare of lights from cameras in the distance behind the area the police had roped off. After a little while, I was introduced to members of the FBI, who peppered me with more questions, and finally took me from the scene back to my apartment. There were agents all over my apartment talking to one another and on their phones. I took the time to take a shower to wash away the blood that had sprayed on me. After finishing, I listened to my voicemail which was filled. There were a ton of messages on my Blackberry as well. I was caught with the phone and was told by some agents that I could not use it.
The day went by with me answering questions. Lots of questions about what happened that morning, why I was out with Franklin so early (they had been watching him and knew that it was not part of his normal routine to go out running with me), what Franklin had talked about, what was going on at the office and of course if I saw who did this. I did. I looked at them both and thought that my life was going to end. I will never forget those two men for as long as I live.
Eventually I was able to return some of my messages. The agents knew who some of my clients were and I was able to make some brief calls to get things in order. Calling the office was rough. Octavia was beside herself and in tears when she heard my voice. Although she was my secretary, she was more like a mother to me. When I assured her I was fine I had been able to have her patch me through to other people in the office to get them to take care of business. At first, the agents told me that I would not be able to work for a little while. I should have pressured them more when they told me that. I should have asked how long 'a little while' was. As I look back now at the past week, I notice there are many "should haves". Regret piled upon regret.
The agents had been investigating not only Franklin, but also a few people who had access to the teamsters' union pension fund who they felt were in on whatever Franklin was doing. And it seemed that after I was able to identify the killers from some surveillance photos they had, the agents had determined that I needed to leave the City for an undetermined length of time. Not only that, but leave to an undisclosed location.
That's how I have come to find myself looking out along the road in Louisiana. Some members of the US Marshall Service are bringing me to my new home and my new life. Being entered into the witness protection program I had to leave everything and everyone that is familiar with me behind. I have whatever clothing I was able to pack in one suitcase and that's it. No mementos. No photographs. No laptop, no blackberry, no credit cards, no bank card, no passport. Nothing that identifies me as who I am, or more accurately was. I am now at the mercy of the US government while the police and the FBI search for the gunmen. The case that Franklin was involved in was quite extensive, and I'm sure I don't know about most of it. From what I did know, it was important to keep me alive to testify against the shooters as it would help solidify whatever case they had against the other suspects now that Franklin is gone.
It seemed that we were finally getting off of the highway and taking some more rural roads. We were getting closer to the place that I would be calling home for the next… well, for the foreseeable future. I haven't been told much about Bon Temps, just that it's pretty small and it would be close to impossible to find me there. I wonder if I will ever be able to leave. If they are never to find who shot Franklin; and they were never to try the case and I never got my old life back, would I ever have the freedom to move elsewhere?
"Excuse me sir, but we are almost at your new location. We need to go over a few things now."
"Certainly. I've got nothing else to do." I said a little ungratefully and a little gruffly. I should be allowed a little bit of an attitude. I think I might still be in shock.
"Sir, we've just entered Bon Temps, Louisiana. Population 930. As of this moment, you are no longer Eric Northman. To make things easier, we'll keep your name as Eric, but your last name is now Brigant. Here is your new identification." He handed me a Florida driver's license that shows I live(d) in Miami, and that I'm 28 years old. At least they didn't make me older. Eric Northman was 30. I've also got a Visa Card and an ATM card from SunTrust Bank which I am aware, is a Florida bank. Where's my Amex? Only one freaking card? And no passport?
"What's the limit on this thing?" I ask as I wave the Visa in front of the Marshall.
"Ten Thousand." I was used to much more. "You'll be moving into a plantation house that has recently been furnished. A moving truck delivered furniture and boxes there yesterday, so it will look like you were just moving in."
"You fellows move fast. Okay, so I know that you will leave nothing to chance. What's my story? I don't think in my wildest dreams that I could come up with any reason other than I am in the witness protection program that I would wind up here." I am starting to move from shock to absolute irritation. I am itching to get back to Manhattan and it's only been 8 hours. I hope they find those fuckers fast.
"Well, you've been busy in Miami with real estate, investments and the like. With the housing market taking a dive, you thought that it would be a good time to get out of the crazy Miami scene and try to get away from it all. You saw a picture of the home on the internet, and thought it would be a good location to forget about life for a while. You arranged to lease the house while you take a break and focus on your passion."
"And what would that be? Hunting and stuffing squirrels?" I can't help but be an ass now. This is all a lot to take in and I can't imagine what the hell these guys would come up with for my "passion" as they thought this was the perfect place for me.
"Writing. You've always wanted to be a writer."
"I have?" I didn't realize that. It wasn't as bad of a 'passion' as I thought they would give me.
"Yes Eric. Listen, I get that this isn't easy. I get that you were just living your life and minding your own business and didn't ask for any of this shit storm to land in your lap. But it did. And if you want to stay alive, then make the best of it buddy. Be grateful those guys didn't decide to empty their clip into you like they did to your pal Mott."
Well. I guess he had a point. I wouldn't admit it aloud though.
I took time to take in the town of Bon Temps. It was small. We drove through what I am assuming is the main part of town and passed the post office, the library, a pharmacy, a diner, a liquor store, a small grocery store and the police station. I hope there is more to the place than this.
The car pulled down a long rutted road, and finally stopped in front of a large southern plantation style home. There were columns in the front, and Spanish moss hanging in the trees that shaded the house from the sun. At least it wasn't a hovel. It actually was a little picturesque. I should be grateful for small favors. I got out of the car and was escorted to the house by one of the Marshalls. On the way there, I spied a Blue Explorer in the drive, which I was told was my new car. Ugh. American cars. I suppose I can understand why the government might need to use American, but I was already missing my foreign ones. The craftsmanship and quality cannot be matched here. No one who knew me would ever think that I would own a Ford Explorer. I guess that was a good thing.
As I walked about exploring my home, I listened to all the Marshalls had to tell me. I was given a new cell phone, land line but I had yet to have any internet access. The Marshalls had told me that trying to contact anyone from my old life would have dire consequences, and I should avoid calling anyone from the 212, 917 or 646 area codes period. It was really tempting to call or text, but I'd play the game for now. We'll see how long I can last. Aah. They just told me that my phones were programmed so I could not dial any of those area codes. It figures.
I explored all of the rooms, and decided on which one would be my master bedroom. It was the only one with a king-size bed. Of all of the rooms in the house, I have to say that so far I really enjoyed the porch the best. There was a huge porch on the front of the house complete with rocking chairs and a porch swing. I loved my terrace in the city. It was my one of my favorite spaces to spend time. I guess this is just a carryover from that. I decided to change out of my suit and into something a little more comfortable. After I managed to pull on jeans and a shirt I grabbed a beer that one of the Marshalls was good enough to leave for me and went to sit on the front porch to watch the world go by for a little while.
The Marshalls had left, but I knew they were nearby. They didn't want to crowd me, I overheard that much. But they also did not want to leave me to my own devices. They were close enough to keep me safe. I guess that should be comforting. It didn't take long for me to start going out of my mind. I never was one to sit around and do nothing. It's killing me to not be doing anything. It's getting later in the afternoon, and I figured that I would take a walk and explore a little bit before it got too dark. I headed off across my yard and went down to walk the rutted lane that brought us here.
As I was walking I remembered that tonight I should have been attending a benefit for the NYC Food Bank that Mario Batali and Anthony Bourdain were involved with. We were going to be at Tony's table too. I wonder what I would end up having for dinner tonight. Nothing close to what I would have been having tonight if I were where I belonged. I guess that Erin would just have to find another date for tonight. She'd be royally pissed that I'd left without telling her or giving her any warning. But I wasn't allowed to let anyone know that I'd be leaving. The Marshalls said they would take care of all of it, including Erin. She was just for fun anyway. Beautiful, but not really deep. She wasn't long-term.
I lost track of where I was and realized that I had come up on another house, which looked somewhat similar to the one I was now staying in. This one looked a bit older though. Lived in and a little worn. I wondered when I would get a chance to meet my new neighbors. I didn't have to wait long. As I was passing the driveway, I almost got run over by a little red Chevy. Was everyone here into American cars? The driver stopped and got out of the car. What can only be described as a little blonde ball of energy came bolting towards me.
"Oh my goodness! I am SO sorry. There's never anyone ever walkin' on this road, and I didn't see any cars around. I didn't think to look for someone walking! Are you okay?" When she reached me she put her hands up and down my arms as if to check for some kind of injury.
"Now that my heart has stopped pounding out of my chest, I seem to be fine. It's okay really." I've had practice dodging yellow cabs for years now. I'm glad I have as it's only the reflexes that I developed doing that that has prevented me from being hit by this woman.
"Really? Oh my gosh. I really am just SO sorry." She put one hand over her mouth, and seemed to be a bit shaken. More so than me. She finally looked up at me with a timid smile. She had beautiful blue eyes, not much different than my own, and honey blonde hair which was loose in curls down her back. I hope that all of the locals are as attractive.
"There's no need to continue apologizing. Really, I'm fine."
"Uh, okay. Well, thanks. What are you doing walking down this road anyway? Where did you come from?" She started fidgeting with a piece of her hair innocently as she spoke. Her hair color was similar to mine too.
"I was walking down the road to clear my head and to just take in the surroundings. I like to walk. And I came from the house up the road there." I motioned behind me. "I just moved in."
"Oh yeah? I saw some moving trucks come by just yesterday. The place has been empty for so long, it will be great to have a neighbor. I'm Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse. I'm pleased to meet you neighbor." She extended her hand to me. Her skin was so soft, and her smile, so bright.
"Well, it's nice to meet you neighbor. I'm Eric." I offered her a smile back. It was the first genuine smile that I have smiled since before that morning with Franklin.
"Eric, I was just headed into town to meet some friends for dinner. Would you like to join us?"
The idea of sitting with Sookie was a nice idea. Better than sitting in that big house all by myself and thinking of what might have been. But being around a lot of other people, having to come up with excuses about why I was here; and them asking questions about my life that I would have to make up answers for, that sounded like a little too much for my first night as a new person.
"Ordinarily Sookie, I would enjoy having dinner with you. However, I'm finding myself a little tired and run down from my move. I don't think that I would be the best company this evening. Perhaps we can have dinner another night."
I saw disappointment cross her face for the briefest of moments before her smile came back. It didn't seem as genuine as her first smile though.
"I understand Eric. That would be nice. Maybe I'll stop by tomorrow to see how you're settling in."
"That would be nice Sookie."
"Okay then, I've got to get going. Have a great night neighbor!"
And with that she hopped back into her car and sped off down the road leaving a cloud of dust in her wake. As I found myself walking back down the road to the house, I couldn't help but think that this move might not be so bad after all. I got back into the house and decided that I should probably make something for dinner. I rummaged through the fridge and the cabinets and saw that there really was not much in either. I seemed to remember passing a small grocery on the way into town and decided to test my Explorer and my sense of direction.
I made it back into the center of town without any issue. I made my way into the grocery and hoped I would find something prepared. I wasn't really surprised when I didn't find an organic section, or a prepared foods section. I could cook a few things, but I just didn't have the energy to do so. I wound up getting milk & coffee for tomorrow and some ingredients to make a salad. That would have to do. I paid for all of my belongings and headed back towards the house. I couldn't bring myself to call it home. That was over 1,000 miles away. It might as well have been 1,000,000.
I had a most unexpected surprise when I made it back to the house. I had my first visitor. And it was the blonde neighbor who almost ran me over. She jumped up out of the porch waving and wearing a large smile. I couldn't help but smile back. As she made her way over to the car, I got my bags and started towards her.
"Hi. Sookie, right? I didn't expect to see you again so soon." I didn't. But I was glad she was there. Company would be nice. It would keep me from spending too much time brooding.
"I know, I probably shouldn't just show up here like this, but I got to thinking that you shouldn't be here all alone on your first night in town. That's not right. You must be tired from the move, and I bet you didn't have much food. So, I brought dinner here for you. The world's best burger."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Burger Lafayette from Merlotte's. It's by no means the healthiest thing in the world, but it's really good and goes well with the cold beer I brought you too." Sookie was smiling brightly by this point and was pointing to a six-pack that she brought over, and some take-out containers that were sitting on a little table between the rocking chairs she rearranged on the porch.
"Well thank you Sookie, that was very thoughtful." Normally I would never eat this type of food, but it really was a thoughtful gesture. And if I wasn't going to be at the Food Bank dinner this evening eating five-star cuisine, I might as well be eating burgers with my new neighbor. "Just let me put this inside and I'll be right back out."
I put the milk and some of the salad ingredients in the fridge, the coffee and other items in a cabinet and then made my way back out to the porch and my visitor. She was rocking away in one of the chairs and was humming a tune. Her head was leaning against the back of the chair and she looked quite comfortable.
"Thank you for doing this for me Sookie. I really appreciate it. I tried to pull some ingredients together at the grocery for dinner, but I really was uninspired."
"It's my pleasure Eric. I can see my friends any time. But the thought of you spending your first night here all by yourself had me thinking that you might appreciate a great burger and a beer." She had a great smile that lit her face. It had me brightening. I have been focusing on what I've lost, which is understandable. But for some reason this girl's smile was making me feel just a little bit better. "Now I won't overstay my welcome as I'm sure you're tired. So let's dig in okay?" She handed me a Heineken Light and we started our dinner. Surprisingly, she was right. This really was an excellent burger.
Between bites of the burger, a few French fries and swigs of beer, I learned that Sookie has been living in that house for most of her life. She's grown up here and is willing to admit that there's not much excitement around town. I learn that she has a brother who lives in town as well and that she works in one of the local schools as a grade school teacher and occasionally at a greenhouse. I've learned that she used to garden quite a bit with her grandmother, which is why she likes the greenhouse. She said it reminded her of her Gran.
I'm quite pleased that she is doing most of the talking tonight. I like having something else to think about besides my situation. I'm also glad because I am uncomfortable getting into much discussion about me at this point. I need a little bit more time to adjust and think my story through. I've always been someone who has been upfront. I've never seen much reason to lie and I didn't know if I would be any good at it. I've always told people as it is. I'm not much for sugar-coating. I told her that I was from Miami and that I am renting the house. I told her that I needed a change (that wasn't a lie).
"Well Eric, I'd be happy to show you around town if you'd like. Show you the decent places to shop or get things done. I have school tomorrow, but I get out at 2:30. Would you like me to stop by after that or will you be busy unpacking?"
"Thank you for your thoughtfulness Sookie. I would appreciate the company. I do have quite a bit of organizing to do tomorrow, so later in the afternoon would certainly work for me." I know that I have another meeting with the Marshalls tomorrow morning. I also did not want her to think that I did not have much to take care of as I was supposed to have just moved in with all of my belongings.
"Great. Why don't you stop by at about 3? That way I will have plenty of time to get back and get changed before we head out." She stood up to pick up the mess from dinner and take care of it.
"That sounds great. Allow me." I took the mess from her hands and smiled at her as she bounded down the porch stairs.
"Welcome to Bon Temps Eric. I think you'll like it here." She waved as she ran back towards her house.
It certainly was not where I had imagined I would be, but given everything I have been through these past two days I was starting to come to the realization that it could be worse. I could have wound up like Franklin. I was going to have to make the best of things. I could do that.
A/N – This is an idea that has been rattling around my brain for a while and just had to get out. I'm not sure if it's worth continuing, although I do have some ideas on where Eric's journey will take him. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading.
Disclaimer – I do not own the characters. They are property of Charlaine Harris.