Del drove his car on the freeway. It was two-thirty in the morning. He knew he couldn’t get alcohol at this time of the night and he really wanted a drink. He resigned himself to go home because he has a pint of alcohol in his drawer.

The night was wearing on him and he wanted to crawl into bed and never awake. He parked his car and walked into his room. Standing at the threshold of the front, he stared at his darken bed; he sensed somebody rummaged inside his room a few hours ago. He turned on his lamp light. He felt violated.

Del closed his door and locked it. He moved toward his drawers and found the pint of vodka he had stashed away. He forgot to get his diet soda, so he drank the alcohol out of the plastic bottle. It burned down his throat. He felt instantly better. Sitting on his bed, it finally hit him. He could be comatose like John and nobody would find his body unless they smelt his decaying corpse a week later. He took another swig of his drink.

He grabbed his remote and changed it to the early morning news. Del listened to the newscaster talking about the day’s events. His mind drifted to all the stupid mistakes he had made. His wife always told him to stop drinking, and he never did. It really started when he was in high school when his parents left him alone in the house. They never really cared about him and even right now when his dad told him to stay at his house Del sensed it was only because his dad was trying to make for his childhood.

He felt in his pocket and found the check for two thousand five hundred dollars. It was blood money. He wanted to rip it apart, but he needed the money. Del wanted to call Mr. Toler right now and tell him about what happened to John. He should do that. Del took another drink. The bottle was almost gone. His body started to feel lighter and he his head swam. The TV disappear. He tried to peer at the screen. What’s happening? He closed his eyes for a brief second. A dark figure appeared in his mind. He couldn’t discern all the person’s features but he saw large horns protruding from a monstrous head and the only thing he could see was glowing scarlet eyes. He heard a guttural voice. “Let me out.”

He awoke. A swath of light hit his face. He turned to the side. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he had to pee. Standing up, he hobbled toward the rest room. The plastic vodka bottle fell to the ground. It was empty. He didn’t remember finishing the bottle. His head felt as if somebody stomped on it several times. He took a piss in the toilet. He kept peeing so long that his legs wobbled and he nearly fell.

When he was finished, he lay on his bed. His stomach gurgled with pain and hunger. He grabbed his phone. It was nine am. He slept all night. He had to eat. His body shook with hunger. He needed to stop drinking like this. Changing into a pair of cleans jeans and a black T-shirt, he thought about how John looked last night in the hospital. John had changed. He seemed dead, lifeless as if his soul had already left him and the only thing that remain was a shell of a man.

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He grabbed his keys and wallet and walked out of his motel room. He needed to deposit his check first and then eat something. He wished he had somebody he could talk too like the wizened old man who always shows up in books and movies who helps the main character, but there was nobody who could help him.

Del started his car. He thought he could contact to Mr. Toler, but he didn’t trust him. He was a powerful man who could bribe cops. He seemed more like a villain. Del shook his head. This was the real world. He couldn’t go to the cops or Mr. Tolen. He had to figure this out by himself.

He ordered a breakfast burrito and diet soda at the local food joint on the corner. It was cool this morning, and he parked his car and ate his food. Checking his phone, he didn’t see any new messages. He should call the hospital and find out about John or drive to the hospital but he felt shabby and out of place in his crumpled T-shirt and jeans. He smelt really. After he was done, he went to his bank and deposited his check at the ATM. The people waiting in line looked at him as if he was a bum coming off the streets. A woman and child stayed several feet away from him and she clutched her bag for dear life.

He left the bank in a squeal of tires. He felt better as he left. Maybe he should go home go and figure out what he should do. As Del enter the parking lot of his motel, he saw something odd. He saw several black SUVs with blacked-out window parked in front of his room. When he exited his car, a few large beefy men dressed in black suits surrounded him. A tall extremely muscular man dressed in army fatigues walked up to him. He had graying hair and a short haircut. His icy green eyes stared at him. Del was still holding his diet soda in one hand

The man dressed in the fatigues said, “My name is Colonel Slather. I am here to take you back to the compound. We have to make sure you’re fine.”

Del thought that this was not real. He’s an American citizen.

“Who are you guys?” He said trying to sound tough.

Colonel Slather said, “We work Mr. Toler. We have to make sure you’re not sick like your friend.”

Del was thinking that he could hit the guy closest to him and then run like hell. But this was not a video game.

“And if I refuse?” Del said.

“Look, you can do whatever you want. But we could do this the hard way or the easy way. You pick. I was given orders to you by force if need be.”

Del felt the menace oozing out of the man’s voice. It was unmistakable. This Colonel Slather would resort to violence if he had too. It was in his personality. They stared at each other for a few seconds.

Colonel Slather grinned. “Hey, we’re friends here. We’re just trying to help you out. You don’t want to be sick.”

“I can leave at any time? And will you help my friend John?”

Colonel Slather looked sideways at the men. “Yes.”

Del knew the Colonel was lying, but he had no choice. Nobody would help him, not his ex-wife or his parents. “Ok.”

Del sat in the backseat of the black SUV. He looked at his car and his motel room. He felt as if he was going to a death house. He wished he could have talked to his wife, Marion again and also hug his daughter. He watched as the SUV drove away from his old life.