A/N: Just what happened after Alex and Julie drove off at the end of the 1992 movie "Freejack".
Stranger Things have Happened
"Let's see what this baby will do." Alex Furlong mashed down on the gas pedal and the 1929 Duesenberg J accelerated. It wasn't the throw you back in your seat type of takeoff that his Formula One car had provided, but for a surviving museum piece it was impressive. And there certainly wouldn't have been room in his old race car for Julie Redlund, who now sat beside him.
He had to be careful as he drove through the opening made when the Cadillac-Gage Commander units moved aside to let him pass; beyond the blocks around the downtown area, the streets of New York quickly became a cluttered and decayed nightmare of people, abandoned vehicles and shantytowns. "Where to, Alex?" Julie asked.
"I don't know," he admitted. This was New York - and the world - of 2009. Just three days ago it was 1991 to him and he was participating in a Formula One race when an accident killed him. However, rich and powerful Ian McCandless had paid for Alex's body to be transported in time at the moment before his death to the current year, where he was revived with the plan to have his personality wiped and McCandless' inserted instead. Apart from Julie, he really didn't know anyone else from this time - even his friend and manager Brad Carter had betrayed him for the bounty money when he had managed to escape from the mercenaries know as Bonejackers that had teleported his body through time. As a freejack, he had been on the run from corporation thugs, privateers and anyone out for the huge reward for his capture. The only other person to fight for him was Julie's personal bodyguard Boone, and he had been killed.
"Now that you're supposed to be Ian McCandless, you're one of the most powerful men in America."
"What about the President?" he asked. Having been on the run most of the time since his arrival, he really didn't have a good grip on what the country was like now.
"The President? Ha," Julie scoffed. "The power is in corporations now. The bigger the corporation, the more powerful you are. McCandless is one of the biggest. Presidents answer to YOU."
"And who do I answer to?"
"No one. That's why Ian was able to pay to snatch your body from the past and try to install his stored personality in it. The money makes the rules. No money, and all you can do is follow the rules or fall by the wayside."
"Everyone has to answer to someone. Even Ian McCandless. I think I know who to ask. Get me to the church in...I think it was called Queens back in our day." The city of New York had been reorganized into districts and the numbers meant nothing to Alex.
Julie punched a button and a computer monitor and keyboard slid out of the spacious dash. She punched in some information and got a result, which was then plotted on the screen. "Follow the map on the screen here and we'll get there. Who's at the church?"
"A nun. I don't even know her name, but she was the first to help me when I got here. That's the best start I can think of." Splitting his attention between driving and the screen, he was able to eventually navigate to the rundown church with only a few wrong turns. He parked out front and got out of the car, followed by Julie, and stared at the entrance.
A robed monk approached them from a side door. "I don't recommend you park here - it isn't safe," he said.
"I have to see the sister. She helped me before and I have a question that I think only she can answer."
The monk pulled an Uzi out of his robe and pointed the muzzle up in the air. "I'll watch it." When Alex showed some shock at the weapon the monk grinned. "The Lord works in wonderous ways - some of them high caliber." Alex gave Julie a look of resignation and led her up the steps into the church while the monk surveyed the area for would-be thieves. Just before they went in he heard the short burst of a warning shot and a shout of "Thou shall not steal, dirtbags!"
Inside, Alex walked down the aisle while he scanned the pews. Unlike his previous visit, there were several people seated in various states of prayer or self-reflection. After a moment he saw the nun emerge from a door to the side of the main altar; even from a distance he could see that her face was bruised and cut in a few spots. He pulled Julie along as he approached her. "Sister, are you alright?" he asked.
She smiled and he could see a tooth was now chipped. "I've been better, but the Lord provides. You look a little worse for wear yourself." She actually used a few choice words of profanity for emphasis but by now Alex wasn't shocked at the source.
"I have to explain that I'm not Ian McCandless. We were able to..." he started to go on.
"No need to explain, Mr. Furlong - the fact that you asked how I was at all shows that you're not McCandless."
"Did his people do that to you?" Julie asked.
"This?" the nun said, pointing at her face. "No. This was Mark Michelette trying to find out where Alex here was. I imagine he's walking with a limp now after I kicked him in the family jewels. His goons worked on me until they all rushed off somewhere."
"That was to his death," Alex said in way of enlightenment.
"Oh, then I shall say a prayer for his soul - if he had one. No, Mr. Furlong, you'll find that there are quite a few people who will refuse to believe that you are McCandless because they need a hero. I've had double the visitors here in the church since you gave the guys with the guns so much trouble. I think you would have been a beloved outlaw in the old west with the following you have now. You've given people hope. Hope won't put a roof over your head or clothes on your back, but it gives you the strength to keep going when you have little else. What drives you, Mr. Furlong?"
"I came here to find out. Everyone is accountable to someone, for rent or food or a boss at work or parents. If I'm supposed to be Ian McCandless now, who am I supposed to be accountable to?"
The nun leveled a gaze at Alex. "Really? You don't know the answer to that? In this life you are accountable to yourself. Once you leave this life you are accountable to Him, you dunderhead." She pointed up into the air. "And I'm not talking about that fake switchboard thing. You can figure out the rest, unless you wore that crash helmet too tight."
"That's it?"
"We learn in seminary that the answer is easy. How we go about it is the hard part. You have been given another chance, and I don't think that's by accident; it's up to you to do something with it. And for the record, I think you should start going by McCandless instead of Furlong. You'll find a lot more doors open for you as the nation's most powerful man than a dead race car driver."
"Okay, I guess that's an answer of sorts. Thanks." Alex started to turn to go but stopped. "What IS your name, sister?"
The nun smiled. "Sister Tiffany Heather."
"Tiffany Heather?"
"We can't all be called Mary now, can we? See you around, Mr. McCandless. You too, Miss Redlund. If you'll excuse me, I have some more new arrivals to give comfort to." She walked off and spoke softly to one man before rapping him not-quite-so gently over the head and moving on.
"Looks like you got off easy," Julie said under her breath as they both left the sanctuary. "I wonder how she knew my name? Did it answer your question, though?"
"She's got access to some database - that's how I found Brad's address. I guess it kind of answered my question, but I'm no savior for the human race - I barely saved myself from getting wiped. But how did the country get like this? I didn't miss a world war after my accident, did I? I've been on the run so I haven't exactly had time to catch up on the newspapers," Alex said as they climbed into the car. The Monk with the Uzi nodded but kept a vigilant eye around the entrance. This would be as safe a place as any to figure what to do next.
"I don't know all the details, and for the record there are hardly any newspapers anymore. We got into a trade war with the rest of the world and lost most of our manufacturing jobs. Then those companies drained the best talent to work overseas for them, there was a depression and the big cities really started to rot from the inside out with one corrupt politician after another. Everything just kind of got worse altogether. There's still areas of wealth and power, like McCandless. United Industries runs most of the west coast, and Power Incorporated has their grip on the south."
"A few powerful people at the top and everyone else trying to scramble for a living at the bottom," Alex summarized. "Your friend Morgan said the same thing."
"Morgan is one of the few between the top and the bottom. He has enough connections with both groups that he can run his underground railroad. You were just too much a target for him to be able to hide you without half the city knowing your face."
"You have to admit it's not a bad face at that," Alex boasted.
"For ten million dollars you could look like the devil and they wouldn't care."
"Probably not," he admitted. "But the sister said that a lot of people believe in me like a hero or something. She said I could give them hope somehow. I've got to figure out how to help - if I can't do it, no one can."
"There's so much that needs to be done, I don't have any idea where to start. Alex, I've been living pretty well the last few years. It's kind of embarrassing but I really haven't got a clue how most people live now."
She frowned and Alex noticed for the first time that while he was basically the same age as he had been before his accident, Julie was now eighteen years older. She was still beautiful and he still loved her, but now she looked a little weary. It couldn't have been easy with his death and then fighting to get to be a top negotiator for McCandless. "There was a guy I talked to when I managed to drag myself out of the river that was a little weird but I think he has his head screwed on straight."
"What's his name?"
"No idea. But we're headed to that shanty town you met me at. I gotta find Eagle Man again..."
o-o-o-o-o
Alongside the polluted river downstream from the Brooklyn Bridge the vintage car pulled up. Alex and Julie got out to the dull stares of many of the residents. Some shied away, others watched in unbelief. Fancy people from the rich district just didn't come down here; most took one look at the clothes and car and turned away. A few recognized Alex and nodded - the man had been down here before, although in much worse circumstances. Alex led Julie down to the river's edge and followed an iron structure until he was on an old loading dock. A ragged old easy chair sat on the dock, and a ragged older man sat in the chair.
Alex recognized the man and walked up to him. "Do you remember me?"
The man smiled and set down something alongside his chair. "It looks like the eagle made it back to the top of the tree after all. And you brought the lady eagle with you."
"That's right. This is Julie. It's kind of complicated, but I'm still the same guy but a lot of people think I'm Ian McCandless now."
"You ain't McCandless. He dead. You're Furlong. The same guy that came out of that river, all a-sputtering and coughing and just about ready to give up. But you're not a quitter. Folks around here don't know what you did, but if the rich guys were after you then you just have to be on the right side."
"What's your name?" Julie asked.
"My name? I haven't needed it in a long time but it's Nelson. Sounds kind of strange to say now. Nelson Giles. What brings you back, Furlong? I know it ain't for no swim!" the man said, breaking into a short burst of laughter.
"I need your help. I'm not from around here, but now I've got McCandless' money and I want to help people. I can't fix everybody but what can I do?" Alex asked as he sat down on a crude wooden bench beside Nelson.
"Nobody can fix everybody. Not everybody wants to be fixed, either. At night I look at the top of that tall tower and I wonder if the people up there think they're God. Do you think that, Furlong?"
"Nope. Not even close."
"Good. If you were then you wouldn't have to ask me for anything, would ya?" Nelson said before laughing again. He sobered again. "You want to help, you start at the bottom. What do people need? Food. A dry place to sleep. Something to do where he don't have to fight or be killed and he want to come back the next day. Maybe, if he works hard enough, he gets a little ahead and can get himself a few nice things. Like maybe he don't have to eat rat every night, maybe he can get a nice coat for winter. A man have these things, maybe he start feeling like a man again. 'Cepting the ladies, they can feel like ladies again of course," he said, pointing at Julie. "Maybe he even start thinking about raising him some baby eagles," he added and laughed.
Julie blushed and Alex smirked as he looked away for a moment. "You think I can do those things?" he asked seriously.
"I KNOWS you can," Nelson replied just as seriously. "If you can't, nobody can and then there ain't no point in even livin' anymore."
"Then I will," Alex said as he stood up. "Don't you go anywhere. I may have to come back with more questions."
"Well, if I'm not here, then I'll probably be at my summer villa in France," he said as he laughed again before continuing. "You fly high Furlong. Fly high."
o-o-o-o-o
Inside the McCandless office, Julie watched Alex sit for ten minutes in a chair. He had said almost nothing on the entire drive back from the waterfront. "Alex, maybe you can't do this after all. It's just too big a problem to try to solve."
"I know," he said as he ran his hand through his hair and then rubbed his temples for a few moments. "All I wanted to do last week was race cars and win. No there's no car races and I guess I won against McCandless. But I hate what I saw out there, Julie. It was like some horror movie where you just wait until a zombie comes out after you from a collapsed building. I want to help."
"Well, I think maybe you can count Sister Tiffany Heather in. People like Nelson will support you. I think we can even get Morgan to help. But you're going to need a little more behind you if you want to start making changes or those in power under you will start trying for your spot."
"Then we'll have to find more help, won't we?" Alex said. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.
o-o-o-o-o
Alex waited until everyone present at the table. Several of the senior vice-presidents were present in person while three were present via video. Seeing that each each position was occupied either in the flesh or by electronic proxy, he started the meeting.
"Today starts a new day for McCandless Corporation. As you all know, I've recently gone through...a bit of a rejuvenation in my life. As such, I see things differently than the tired, dying President that I've been in the few weeks. As such, I've given a lot of thought about the direction of my company an my personal life too. Meet my soon to be wife Jule, who as you know is our number one negotiator." Alex strolled around the table as he spoke. Julie, who sat beside Alex at the table, took her eyes away from him to study the faces of the others at the table.
Alex continued. "Of course, as a corporation our aim is profit. Naturally, there is a certain degree of power that comes with the wealth that such a successful entity as mine accumulates. But, there comes a time when we have to look elsewhere for profit. Ladies and gentlemen, we have milked the cow that is America as much as we can. The question is, what do we do next?"
"Maybe take some cows from overseas," one of those present said in a low voice.
"Yes, that is exactly what we are going to do Ms. Delbrun," Alex acknowledged.
"Who are we going to take from?" she asked.
"It's not going to be the way you think, though. Right now, almost all of the manufacturing jobs in this country have been sold out to other countries. Even food production relies on imports. In relying on others for our goods, WE ARE THE ONES BEING MILKED." Alex pounded his fist beside an unattended computer for emphasis. "I propose that we slowly move production back to America. We start with the basics like food. Maybe some inexpensive prefab housing. We hire people to make these things, and they in turn pay us back to buy things. All that money that would be flowing overseas comes into our pocket instead." Alex tried to sell the idea in a way that emphasized the profit, in a manner that Julie told him was more in Ian's style.
Delbrun spoke up. "That's a pretty radical departure for McCandless Corp. What does Mr. Michelette say about it? I don't see him here."
"Good point. It seems Mark Michelette had plans to thwart my rejuvenation and take over the company. He was permanently retired a few days ago for his treachery. As such, I would like to introduce some new faces to the corporation. Effective immediately we have..." Alex announced as a laptop monitor opened showing a face for each name "...Sister Tiffany as VP of Theological Strategy, Nelson Giles as VP of Public Relations and some of you may have met our new VP of Security, Victor Vacendak."
"I'm not going to be intimidated by a face on a computer," one of the virtual participants snorted.
"Nor am I," Victor's image responded. The screen showed the Security Head sitting in an ornate chair behind several Faberge eggs. "That's why you should be comforted, Mr. Boltaire, by the fact that I know where each and every one of you live as well as your complete histories and - should I need it - your blood type and next of kin."
"And I will pray for your dearly departed soul if necessary," Sister Tiffany added.
"Victor is very well informed," Alex offered. "Now, in no way do I want to force anyone to participate against their will. If you really believe that the new direction of the corporation isn't your style, you can walk away no questions asked. If you DO want to stay and be part of the big challenge ahead of us, I want you here tomorrow morning at 9am and we'll all roll up our sleeves together and start what will be the hardest and most rewarding work we have ever done. Jules?" he asked.
Julie stood up and joined him near the door of the private elevator. Alex addressed the room. "Think it over, and your presence or absence tomorrow morning will be your answer. If none of you wish to join me, so be it - I'll find other candidates that WILL take up the challenge. Until tomorrow, ladies and gentlemen." Alex took Julie's hand and exited the room in the presidential elevator and punched the button for the office.
"Do you think they'll go for it?" she asked after the door closed.
"At least some will. Maybe all. Stranger things have happened. And hopefully we can keep Boone's grandma smiling."
The End
A/N: The movie never went into the ramifications or morality of taking someone's body at the moment of death and using it for your own, nor any inclination to change the decay that was shown in New York - it was basically a long chase scene. Those topics would have been more easily dealt with in the novel than the film anyway, and I chose to deal with just the latter for this short.