Chapter 2
Wednesday, his second day on the job. He visits Jorge and follows him around to handle the main tasks he will be doing. Tomorrow he will join another one of the janitors and help them out.
If anything, his reasoning to stay and go to work today was to find out what was really going on. While he knew this line of thinking was irrational and impossible, he couldn't stop himself. He was starting to believe that 'show' was not filming anything.
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Near the end of his shift he once again went to get the trash from homicide. After yesterday's hassle, he had told Jorge he got lost. So this time they went together at the same place. Clean and bright windows to see through. Desks sitting there more for looks than being of use. Cops and detectives walking around talking in the open.
If there was one thing that annoyed him in the show was the fact that the walls were not really walls. Good guys and bad guys could walk by and see everything. Who were they to hide anything from when everyone could see them just by being on the same floor.
"This is the place. Don't worry if you get confused here or there. It takes time and patience."
"Yes… thank you for being patient with me." Sad part was that it was good advice. Jorge was a good man and someone he was starting to warm up to. Of course there was a lot he had to worry about, but right now he was able to focus on his job.
As he passed by the desks to grab their trash bins he could hear them talking about a head.
"…no it didn't 'splat'." He saw Angel a few others and that one creepy forensic guy in the show.
They were standing around a computer. Clearly looking at pictures based on the way they were talking.
"But it does match the victim found near the fountain." Angel had asked.
"Yes." Creepy lab guy basically said as a few other highly inappropriate things were said about a dead woman.
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Every time he had, he would call his sister's phone number. No answer and things were getting worse.
Clearly they were talking about what happened in the first episode of Dexter. Even he remembered that. It was his first impression on the series and he had seen no cameras at all while they talked. Plus if it was a flashback for the series, why film something like that? It didn't make sense to him and so as he got back to his apartment, passing the front desk guard and going up the elevator, things were starting to sink in.
As he sat down, Sam looked at the news for the day. There was no news of a head being thrown at the protagonist's car, but there was a police presence along a road that had cleared up just an hour ago. Looking at the video of where the newscaster was, it looked close to what he remembered at the end of the episode. The worst part was when he saw the date of a sports game that was scheduled just after the show. [October, 12th 2006]
"Is this real?"
His phone started to ring at that moment and he answered right away.
"Is this Sam Zillo?"
"Yes, this is."
"I am calling about the wellness check on Max Hidder and his family. I have a couple questions to ask." The office gave his name and when he asked a question, Sam lost a lot of his hope. "Is this the correct address?" It was and the officer said there wasn't anything there. He dropped the phone. His mind raced.
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With his money, he quickly got access to a jet. Flew to Montana, not waiting for the weekend. Renting a car he drove over to his sister's house. Nothing, just a bunch of trees. He drove to his house, his old home. Thankfully it was still there.
"Sarah! Max!" He shouted into the dark home.
Looking around he didn't find them. Nothing that said that his sister lived there. His first book on the wall, he grabbed it and opened it.
"Dedicated to my mother and father for everything they did to take care of me." It didn't mention his sister at all. The book fell to the ground and with it Sam too.
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It was night right now. He had been calling friends and asking them about Sarah. He must have sounded completely disturbed and lost. No one knew about her and some of them didn't even know who he was.
A single plane ride. A trip to learn about everyday heroes. Time to spend grieving his father. Getting away from everything… "just not like this. How?" This was something anime protagonists had to deal with, not him. Not in real life.
"Why did it have to be Dexter anyways? Serial killers? What about a relaxing slice of life story?" He slapped himself in the face. "Going there was the problem. If I go back will everything change back to normal?"
With his phone he called to get another jet ready as the first one would be refueling still.
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As he landed, it was just six in the morning. He quickly called his sister and nothing. Again. Again. Again.
"Sir, is everything alright?"
"No!" He yelled and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry about that. It ain't much, but here is a tip. Thank you for getting me here so quickly."
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"Kester, do you have a moment?" Sam was currently in a taxi to his apartment.
"Sure do. What's up." The man on the other line was cheery, but quickly understood something was wrong. "Everything okay?"
"I need to make sure. You don't know Sarah."
"This again? No I don't. Sam, you can talk to me. What's going on?" In the silence, while Sam was thinking about how to answer that, Kester spoke again. "Is someone bothering you? Journalist?"
"No, nothing like that. Just… How long have we been working together?"
"Almost twenty years now." Kester did sound proud of that, but he hid it behind the seriousness of the situation.
"Have you known me to lie? Do drugs? Go crazy?"
"Of course not."
"Then if I told you I was in a fictional tv show… what would you say to that?"
"Like you were asked to-"
"Not asked- Never mind. Thank you for everything. I got to go."
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He called Jorge saying he wasn't coming in today. He lost his mother and just recently his father. Heart attack. His heart was weak and they knew it could happen any time. Sam had taken care of him so he didn't have to stress himself out. They even went on walks through the woods here and there. Everything was fine until one day there had been a car accident. While it was mild, just a graze on the car, his father might have panicked or the sudden stop caused him pressure and his heart gave out. Neither his father or the driver were at fault. Just a single slippery road.
Now his sister was gone and no one knew but him. Not just her either. Max, her husband and a good man. Someone he could trust to take care of his sister in his place. Then the bundle of joy the two of them had. Maxine. Named after her father, Sarah's choice too, the little girl who enjoyed his stories. The niece who he read to when he babysat for them.
That family, the one he cared and loved, was gone. No more. Wherever he was, the twilight zone, it didn't matter. He lost everything in one plane flight. What was there for him to do? He was essentially given money by some unknown force and then arrived in the fictional universe of Dexter.
Actually, with his eyes open wide, Sam needed to be sure. Maybe his family, even if they didn't know him anymore, were still there. Whatever cosmic force did this, he could use what he gained to see if his family is out there.
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The rest Thursday and Friday were spent just working. First he hired two accountants. One to spread around his money in multiple banks. Most of that extra cash was in one single bank. Which he did ask where it came from and he was told it had been deposited by him in person. A big amount of that, of course it had to be. Sam also took the time to check if the fake him had been paying his taxes and he was good on that end. He had to be sure.
The second accountant would take this money and start investing it. Right now it was of no big deal to him, but his plan was to use a lot of it. If he was going to go through that big of an amount searching for his family, then he needed to be prepared. However long it took then he would be patient. Feelings felt time pass. Two days felt like a hundred in his mindset.
So what to spend his money on. Attracting attention, legal and otherwise, would be a terrible idea. Dexter was more of a foe than an ally. The whole cast he saw on that show existed. He looked them up and everything.
The 'Dexter universe' had many serial killers right in Miami. To protect himself he went out and bought a taser. It was something he needed to keep himself safe. One thing he didn't want was to buy a gun and get set up by anyone for using it. That was a fear, but he felt so paranoid right now that one step from a rat would probably have him shooting up the whole place. A taser was just a small piece to defend himself.
Lawyers were the next thing he needed. Plot armor existed to give characters protection in the most unlikely of scenarios. Like a crazy not-girlfriend-but-sober-buddy-woman finding the man who you plan to frame for all your murders, then her mental instability has her blowing him up leaving you free and clear. In the case he is ever framed, something he didn't want to test, Sam made sure they were always available.
Now on to the reason why he hadn't left Miami.
"There has to be a reason I'm here. If I can find that reason, then I can go home. It centers around Dexter, so he has to be the key. At least a part of it…" Files on his computer were overflowing with information. It included all his banking accounts and information. Separate files for the private investigators he hired using disposable phones and offshore accounts. It was over-kill to use all of that to find his family, but he didn't want to risk it. Sam had never done anything like this before and all he had to go off of was TV shows and how he did research for his books.
"Jorge, this is Sam. I want to apologize for the way I acted before. I understand if you don't wish to have me on your team again, but if you can give me a second chance, I'm ready to prove myself."
That was the voicemail he left his boss. He needed to be close and his week off would attract attention in the long run. Right now he needed to just do what he planned before, but with extra steps. While he studies the police, a fictional police department, Sam needs to see if there is anything that is bringing him here. Maybe something had gone wrong and he needed to fix it or perhaps he needed to kill Dexter to end this whole thing.
Perhaps a knife in his own heart would be the answer.
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"Just don't do it again." While he did take flak from Jorge on Monday, the man was surprisingly comfortable with Sam. Perhaps he was being affected by plot armor or it was just that they lacked people and he had two days of training already. He didn't know, but it was something to keep in mind.
"I won't, you have my word. Just tell me what to do and I will get it done." It was all he could do to make it up to the man. If he did more it would feel fake and forced, not just to himself, but he had a feeling that Jorge could sense that in him. Another thing that might have gotten his job back.
He was in the toilets. It was something he expected. Sam suspected for a moment that he might have some control on this whole world to predict this, but when his family didn't appear in front of him he continued his 'duty'.
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As the elevator opened Sam could hear a louder LaGuerta. Actually he didn't remember her first name, but he could easily find out.
"…he was a cop." Her voice carried a sudden drop in the atmosphere. Now something he noticed which didn't bode well for his future were two cops on his left as he entered the 'pit'. They just started whispering and ignoring the terrible atmosphere except the main characters. It was like they were following a script or since it didn't have anything to do with them they just ignored it. Something to keep an eye on.
Each trash can was emptied in the same order he had done last time, except he stopped this time. Dexter and Debra were there in the open. Neither looked his way at the moment, so he looked away first before they could themselves. He had no intention of getting on the radar of someone who's first rule in his code is 'don't get caught'.
Sam then entered the little room furthest from the elevator and grabbed the trash can in the open. No one looked his way when he took a glance. He found himself too scared to look towards Dexter. The taser in his back pocket felt hot and holding it in his hands was the only way to alleviate that pain. Forcing his eyes to the ground, he slowly worked his way up with the garbage in his hand and dumped it.
The name plate there was Maria LaGuerta's. He didn't think that would make much of a difference, but for his notes it would make things easier.
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"I'm not going to be writing for a while and cancel all my appearances. I have too much to do and take care of."
"Whoa take it easy… I'll get it done, but can you tell me why?"
"Kester, please just trust me. I have something important. This is the most important thing I need to-"
"Just tell me if it is some mid life crisis…?"
"Not even close. You're a good friend, but this is too hard to explain. We'll talk later."
Sam was currently laying out an outline. His in-home printer made it easier to place everything he had in front of him and piece it together.
'First season had between ten and thirteen episodes. It took place around three to four months. The second season started a month after the first. Since he had gone through what he remembered of the first episode, then he was on two or three right now. That was if everything stayed close to the original." About halfway in between his thoughts, he started speaking them out loud. "After the head hits the car, that was the ending of episode one, close to it anyway. What was the next bit that happened?"
He grabbed one of the cups nearby and threw it at the wall.
See Sam had just started this at about 1pm. Talking with Kester and the drive over was something he had to deal with. Then getting the papers and printing out the information to put in his timeline had taken about an hour and a half. But he had started thinking about this whole timeline yesterday and he had gotten stuck at this part. He had an idea about the overarching seasons of the show, but not much of the specific. So he was frustrated about it all. A short amount of time to start and he had already hit a wall. Knowing all of this, he still picked up the glass and threw it. It felt so cathartic to break something for a split second until he realized he had neighbors and now shards of glass on his floor.
In his haste he cut his pinky finger on a piece of glass on his hard wood floor. Then it hit him, the fingers in the truck. That should happen soon, any day now. Getting a band aid, which he had a full medical kit at the ready, which included a defibrillator, he patched his finger up. Cleaned the floor and got back at it.
'Yes because her fingers bring them to some arena or stadium. There a security guard is captured and eventually we learn it is the doctor, Brian or whatever pseudonym he goes by, is the Ice Truck Killer. Oh, they find the fingers in an ice truck.' The story started to piece itself together, but as the season went on it got fuzzy. 'There was an episode where Dexter hides in a trunk of a car- no it was a kid. Dexter saved people from traffic. When was that?"
His mind was trying to get the info down. Then he could move it to how he sees fit. Time flew by. Hours had passed and night was there. His stomach told him enough was enough. His laptop even cried for him to give it some energy. Everyone had been stretched thin and this was the line.
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A walk cleared everything. His laptop had been left to charge. Of course he forgot to plug it in when he did all that work. Too much on his mind… But now there was too much in his stomach.
It was chilly. Sam found himself pulling at his clothing. To be in such light clothing throughout the day was strange. A thick long sleeve shirt was normal in the mountains. There he could breath in the cold air and if there had been any sweat he built up from a run, then it was gone. His lungs could become purified in the cold air.
Sam traveled a few miles away from his home. The night erased everything for him. His mind no longer believed he was being followed and hunted. An outsider not just to this state, but to the world. A complete work of fiction based on his own world all for a single character, Dexter.
Watching the show, Sam empathized with the man. Everything he had to go through was immense. The antagonists were a bit interesting too as they challenged a person many people, himself included, couldn't understand. Killing another human was wrong unless you were fighting for your country. Although he wasn't someone for the military, he appreciated what they were there for. To be forced to fight for his own life was something he couldn't comprehend. Then all of this happened. A whole week he had been marooned on this island. A parallel world with no escape in sight.
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Sam had stopped moving. His legs shaking and shivering in the cold. But that wasn't true. His mind was slowly piecing together the issue and it told him he was in danger. 'Act normal Sam. Look at the couple at your right eating in the restaurant.'
A clock was behind the couple showing that it was just past 11pm. He could see the waiter getting heated with the couple at the table who quickly were getting flustered. Soon they were pushed out the store, but Sam still didn't move. He could tell they ignored him, that couple and the waiter he was slightly staring at.
The thing about his job was that on Tuesdays he cleaned the glass windows there. Including the ones on the walls. Reflections were common and he was able to tune them out as he worked. However his mind recognized something in the reflection he was currently staring at. An ice truck sitting there running. In the middle of the night with no one in the driver seat. The lights surrounding him made it clear as day for him. Clear to see that there was no one behind him or around him. Just him alone standing there frozen in fear.
If he didn't start moving soon someone might notice and recognize him. It could create trouble just being around something like this.
"Focus." His words flowed out of him and he closed his eyes.
In his mind he watched his niece taking her first steps. Just like her mother, those legs wobbled, she was hesitant, taking one step at a time. Sam needed to do the same. To go home and stick to the light. Not in the shadows where serial killers exist.
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His journey home almost had him screaming at the top of his lungs. It was the only way he could think of to keep himself safe. With the door to his back he slumped to the floor. Exhausted. There was no way he could make it to his bed in this state. Adrenalin had taken over his body and he still didn't feel safe.
Instinctively he could feel the taser still in his hand. It never left, but was now stuck there. He couldn't let go, his mind rejected that idea.
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"Are you good to work?"
"Yes. Just tell me what you need done."
Asking about his health… was that because Jorge wanted to know or was the story this world centered around wanting to suck him in. Sure he never heard of a Jorge or remembered one in the main story, but he was being very patient with him. To the point it unnerved him.
A part-timer leaves for a whole week after working two days? That should have got him fired right away. No chance after that. Sure anything could have happened, but he never told Jorge the truth or lied to cover himself. He just took the blame that he deserved. Perhaps that was why and it was more of a sign of trust. Jorge put his belief that there is no ill will in Sam and he was trying to do his best and make up for it. It would need further observation.
Now while he has been stressed about being killed and having his blood removed from his body while he is still alive, a part of him has actually begun to see a rough outline of his next book. There is nothing concrete yet, but from what he has pieced so far together it was taking way too much from Dexter. A 'How to' avoiding strangers, dangers and most of all serial killers. While he knew it was not something he wanted to write about or put to paper, there was something there he could use. Something a kid and adult could look at and learn from.
Jorge didn't punish him this time. Actually showed him something new. Mainly where and when to clean the floors. Putting up the signs and making sure his shoes were slick proof. Which he already had when first came to Miami.
Getting to know the place and spending some time here, Sam was growing on it. Not really because if he was being truthful, then he… "hate this place…" It really wasn't the job. Not the mundanity in its nature or how gross it can be, but the simple fact by coming here he lost his whole family. It made him want to tear everything down and destroy it.
"Coming through!" A group of lab coats wearing people and some on duty officers were making their way through the hallway. Sam saw them carrying an ice cooler… 'Are the fingers in there?' It made sense of timing and if it kept to the original script.
Sam quickly mopped the area. Drying it and making sure it looked spotless as he moved along. There he was able to see them now pouring water on a block of ice. Not completely as there were a few well known characters blocking his line of sight. Angel, Maria, Dexter, Debra and…'and Masuka.' Just like that, the name populated his mind. The creepy perverted guy. Not that he had anything against him. It was just that in his mind and in real life, the things he says would never slide in a real workplace.
Actually there was a point where he gained some real character development. It was good to see him really trying his best to change for everyone around him. Drop all those dirty jokes and become someone who they can rely on. In the end everyone respected him and relied on him, but he went back to his old jokes. It wasn't bad, he just wanted more for the character. 'Actually did get more development after that?' It didn't matter right now as he found himself staring. Everyone had already separated, so it was time for him to get back to his job for now.
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"Do I change anything? The first season is great. A single contained life of its own."
Dexter grows with his search for the Ice Truck killer. He learns that he doesn't need to live only by the code Harry gave him. Dexter can grow out of that and become his own man. Especially once he remembers the past and finds out Harry isn't all that great either.
"No, I don't need to change anything. I need to focus on getting my family back."
To go back to an earlier thought, if he was here for a reason was it for what happens in season eight of the show? 'Wait, it was a show based on a series of books.' Sam had never read any of them so could it lie within them that he needs to do something to escape?
A knock at his door scared the wits out of him. He dropped the marker he had in his hand.
"Who-" he stopped himself from talking. Sam at first thought it might be an innocent bystander…
"Sam open up!" It was Kester banging on the door.
"Give me a moment to get ready."
"What are you naked right now in the middle of the day?"
"Just hang on!" Sam quickly gathered everything he had laid out and brought it over to his bedroom. He just started dumping everything he could on top of his bed.
"Dude what is- Oh I'm sorry. I'll be quiet ma'am." Sam only caught Kester's side of the conversation as he was running back and forth.
Sam quickly looked back at his living area and found nothing he could see then walked over to the door and opened it up. Kester stood there with a pack of Dr. Pepper. Sam could see the 'sweat' coming off the cans. Pooling and dripping on the floor.
"How did you get past security?"
"Is that- Hey you gave them my photo and labeled me as a friend." It was at that moment that Kester realized something was wrong. Sam very much didn't want to deal with that.
"Just get in here." Sam was currently holding a single hand behind his back with the taser.
"Nice place you got here… I'm in sheesh. We need to have a talk." Sam closed the door quickly, locking all the locks he had on his door.
"What do you want?"
"I already said I wanted to talk. Where can I put this?" Sam pointed at the fridge to the left of Kester. He walked over and put the cans inside, but not before grabbing two of them. Popping one open for himself and handing the other to Sam who was still jittery. Kester then turned around and stuck his head in the freezer. "I hate this heat. How do you even handle it?"
Sam paused watching his friend for the past twenty plus years cool his face with his freezer. That sight made him relax his grip and let his arm fall to his side.
"You get used to it. Plus you know I like the heat."
"Yes, yes. Of course you and the heater… Look Sam, I know something is up with you. Calling me out of nowhere multiple times asking about some girl named Sarah. Look I don't know what happened to you, but I want to know. If I can do something, anything to help, I will."
"This is dangerous. I'm glad to see you stopped by, but you need to leave. Get out of Florida right now."
"See I can't leave you after you say something like that." Kester took his head out of the freezer as this part of the conversation started. They were looking at each other and Sam was trying his best to look away. "Are you talking about those murders?"
"No, not at all. Want to watch some TV."
Sam believed that if he stopped talking about it and just pretended everything was normal, it would all be fine.
"Sam-"
"I will not talk about this at all Kester."
"Then I will stay here until you do." Disbelief filled Sam's face. "I'm worried about you. Hey I'm not suggesting I stay here in this apartment, I will get my own place, but I'm not going to let you go through whatever you are going through alone."