Liam couldn’t remember leaving Madame Maev’s shop. One moment, he was at the table, his pulse racing, and the next, he was in Sarah’s car, the cool ocean breeze drifting through the window. Sarah’s voice, soft and filled with worry, broke through his daze, asking if he needed a hospital. He must have declined because they ended up back at his place, him stumbling out of the car, his mind a tangled fog.
Maybe he should have gone to the hospital, though, instead of what happened next. You live and you learn… usually.
It was late, and the events of the night were a blur. They argued. He didn’t know what over - something petty, something stupid -like toothpaste or soap. Whatever it was, he lost. He found himself standing alone, one hand in his pocket, fingers grazing the engagement ring he’d planned to give her at the dinner they never made it to.
The squeal of tires pulled him from his thoughts as he heard her car tear out of the driveway. The daze lingered, holding him still as the sound faded away until something inside jolted him awake. He raced out of the house and into the street, but he was too late.
He watched as her distant taillights faded into the encroaching darkness.
Gathering his wits, he ran to the garage, yanked it open, and threw himself onto his bike. His helmet strap half-done, 1000cc engine roaring to life, he shot out of the driveway, the sound echoing through the quiet street as he chased after Sarah.
He nearly lost control on the first turn, but his body acted on instinct, steadying the bike. His elderly neighbor shook her fist as he sped by, but he barely noticed.
Where would she go? His mind was a fog, thoughts snagged in weeds as he tried to sift through them. He guessed she’d gone to her mother’s, so he sped there. But when he pulled up, her car was nowhere in sight. Frustration gnawed at him as he tried to think straight.
He wracked his mind, and it was like fishing in weeds, taking forever to reel in a good thought.
After a few steadying breaths, he realized she was probably just cooling off, driving to clear her head. She’d be back.
Fine, he thought. Maybe I need to clear my head too. And that was how he found himself back on the Great Ocean Road, the empty highway stretching before him, dark and endless, daring him to ride faster and faster until everything else disappeared. Far too fast to be healthy, unless of course, you were trying to leave your thoughts behind.
There’s nothing better than redlining the RPMs through the turns with the ocean air in your face to give you a clarity of thought.
Get into a big argument? Go riding, and ride fast. Lose your job? Go riding, and ride fast. The store is out of your favorite drink? You get the picture.
As he came around one of his favorite turns, his troubles faded into the distance, unable to keep pace. He leaned in, pressing into the curve, when he spotted something - or someone - ahead. A shadowy figure, indistinct in the dim light, stood dead center in the road. Later, he’d know exactly what it was, but in that instant, it was just a dark silhouette, a vague, obstructive presence.
It was just past dusk, the world draped in twilight’s veil. Enough light lingered to make things out, but with him leaning so far into the turn, he nearly didn’t straighten the bike in time to avoid colliding. Just barely, he managed to steer clear, heart racing as he whipped past the figure.
Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder, he half-expected to see it standing there still, but it was gone. He checked the mirrors - nothing.
What the hell, where did that idiot go? The thought jarred him, and his gaze flicked back to the road, instincts kicking in. He knew better than to let distractions pull him from the ride, but the tension clung, unsettling him. Pulse still hammering, he couldn’t quite shake the unnerving feeling.
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His focus was forward again, but he’d misjudged the turn.
Note to self: never ride distracted, he thought, letting out a sigh. Too late.
***
“Wait, I don’t get it. What happened?” Brett asked, his tone threaded with exasperation. He was Liam’s older brother - taller, sharper, and, as Liam liked to joke, better at everything. Brett was also the kind of guy who managed to be both independently wealthy and perpetually surrounded by beautiful women.
Liam had snuck into his house that morning only to find a rather buxom redhead snoozing peacefully at Brett’s side. They were tangled in the sheets, Brett’s feet poking out just enough to tempt Liam’s inner prankster.
He’d been just about to enact some classic brotherly torture when Brett’s voice warned from the covers, “If you do, I’ll kill you.”
Liam stifled a grin as Brett slipped out of bed, somehow managing not to wake his lady partner. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, bro. She’s a beaut,” Liam said, unable to help himself.
Brett rolled his eyes. “Her name’s Whitney, and you’ll meet her later. Assuming I don’t kill you first,” he replied, leading them both down the hall toward his office. As they passed Brett’s daughters in the playroom, Liam saw a fierce battle waging between their dolls and action figures. The Barbies seemed to be winning.
Inside the office, Brett closed the door behind them, then dropped into his desk chair, fixing Liam with a look. “Alright. Spill. What happened?”
Liam took the energy drink his brother tossed him, noting it was one of Brett’s own products - the latest in his line of entrepreneurial ventures. He took a swig, the sharp, citrus flavor biting in a surprisingly refreshing way. “Wow, bro, this actually tastes pretty good.”
“Of course it does. Who do you think I am?” Brett smirked. “Innovate, don’t iterate, remember?”
“You speak truth,” Liam said tossing back a drink.
“You’re the one who said it,” Brett corrected.
“Like I said, you speak truth,” Liam said with a smug smile.
“Alright, enough stalling. What. In. The. Hell. Happened?” Brett’s tone sharpened, his gaze narrowing as he bit off each word. Liam could see his brother was running out of patience, and although he considered drawing it out, he decided he’d rather avoid any potential punches.
He took a final gulp of the drink, steadying himself. “I died,” he said flatly, watching Brett’s reaction carefully. There, that was simple enough.
After a pause, Brett just raised an eyebrow. “Elaborate, please.”
Liam shrugged. So far, so good. Liam was relieved by his response. “I died,” he repeated.
“You already said that. Go on.”
“Right,” Liam continued, “remember that idiot standing in the middle of the road?”
Brett nodded, signaling him to go on.
“Well, I got freaked out by how he just vanished. Maybe it was the aftereffects of that witch’s brew Madame Maev gave me, or maybe I was just distracted. Whatever the cause was, and despite my being an otherwise excellent rider, I misjudged the turn. By the time I noticed the 200-foot drop to my side, I was already riding the shoulder. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but the next thing I knew, I saw the guardrail fading above me as I plummeted down the cliff, my bike tumbling after me into the darkness.”
Brett’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.
“And that’s when time… stopped.” Liam’s voice dropped as he remembered. “There were no tunnels, no lights, no pearly gates. Not even a single flash of my life before my eyes. Just… darkness. Like back in Maev’s salon. One moment I was falling, and the next, nothing.”
A flicker of disbelief crossed Brett’s face, but he remained silent, listening.
“Suddenly, I was back in my garage, pushing my bike inside. I felt beat up, but not enough to question it. I went through the motions, like I was on autopilot. Said hello to the guardians, Moggy and Mutt. They were happy to see me, demanding pets and scratches, and I gave them their favorite food - Mutt’s easy to please, but Moggy’s a snob; he only accepts the finest wet food.”
Brett’s lips twitched in a half-smile, but he stayed focused.
“I didn’t even make it to my bed; just crashed on the couch,” Liam continued. “Next morning, I woke up feeling amazing, aside from a killer dry mouth. I got the guardians fed, then went up to take a shower. Everything felt normal… at first. Until I stepped under the hot water, and it felt like ice.”
“I turned the temp as high as it would go, but I couldn’t get warm enough. The water turned colder and colder, until I yelped and tried to turn it off. I fumbled with the dials, couldn’t get a grip, and finally tried to open the shower door to escape.”
Brett frowned, looking skeptical now, but he stayed quiet.
“The bottom of the tub was slippery, and I lost my footing. Next thing I know, I’m falling, but I don’t hit the tub. I fell straight through the floor and landed in the kitchen.”
Brett blinked, clearly baffled. “Wait. You fell through the floor?”