Truth Stealers (Thief's Signal: Book 1)

4

Jag had a feeling he had just been sleeping, but he neither remembered closing his eyes, nor opening them back up again. He thought he had been dreaming of his wife, but couldn't tell if it was really of Jane or of Lucy.

Jag didn't even feel a difference between dreaming, being awake, or remembering. He wasn't even sure if he was just dreaming about being in the box right now.

His head still hurt, but at least the rest of his body didn't anymore. He still couldn't believe that he remembered the name of the woman whom he thought he'd had an affair with, before the name of his real wife.

And then the face of a man entered Jag's head instead. His sides were shaved, and he had a braided length of blonde hair down the middle that ran all the wag to his neck.

"You know what to do, Jag," came his gruff voice.

The two of them were standing in a parking lot somewhere.

"You make sure you get their files, you make sure you get their codes, their modification. I don't care what you have to do, Jag, but you get them, then you come back."

The man turned away, and Jag opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He wanted to scream 'come back', 'who are you', 'why am I here', but he couldn't form the words. His throat was closed up. He started choking, and spat something out onto the parking lot floor. He looked down: it was blood. He coughed again, and more blood spewed out of his mouth. He clutched his stomach, and coughed again, falling over. He watched himself hit the ground, and everything went black.

********

Jag woke from the dream, or whatever it was, to find himself still leaning against the cell wall. His stomach rumbled, and he belched. Damn, he was hungry. How long had he been stuck in here for now? With all the half-dreaming and flashbacks and headaches, he couldn't figure out a real measure of time.

And what could he do, but wait for them to come on to him again? He was stuck; there was no way around it.

And so he waited. He starved, he dreamt, he pondered, he paced. He walked the room hundreds of times over during what must have been hours, until his legs grew too weak too walk anymore. Not that it was hard to cross the room - it was only five strides across each edge at most.

Jag thought of Lucy and how he had treated her. He thought of what sins he may have shared with Jane, and whom she was. And he thought of that strange man with the braided mohawk, and what he had told Jag to do.

What files? What modifications? Perhaps it had something to do with Meta Mechanics Developmental? They sounded like they could be linked. But if I was supposed to steal something from them, why had I ended up with a seven hundred and twenty five dollar receipt form in my wallet?

Jag's stomach rumbled loudly. It felt like an earthquake, for all the excitement he experienced in this cubed prison. Which brought him to the most important question of all: what exactly was he doing here? Who trapped him, and why?

Perhaps...perhaps the Meta Mechanics Developmental had found out I was trying to steal from them, so I paid them a fine, and they...trapped me in here? Unlikely. Best sleep on it; if I'm not already dreaming.

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