Smokescreen

8

"Where are you headed?" The cabbie asked, his eyes on the road and his hands gripped firmly on the wheel. Ben made sure to keep an eye on the man, keeping his guard up as he gave the man an open smile and resisted the urge to itch at his blond wig.

"Home. Back from college." It was his third cab. He used a different disguise each time, always paying in cash and switching out accents. He was careful not to touch anything that could leave any fingerprints, thankful that the weather in early March was still cold enough to acceptably wear gloves.

The driver chatted on and on until Ben was finally dropped off at the outskirts of a nearby city that was close to his town. He gave the expected smile and well wishes as he gave the driver his pay, then began walking to the nearby pharmacy sign that cast a red glow across the entire parking lot. He had left his phone in his dorm room, realizing the risk of having it with him, regardless of worth, was too great to do. So, Ben went off of his memory, remembering three motels in the nearby towns surrounding him.

He had also realised that going back to his family as himself would raise more alarm and potentially put them at risk. Ben entered into the store, the yellow lights flickering over his head as he began calculating the risk of being there. He grabbed two boxes of blond hair dye, as well as a few other items before approaching the bored teenager behind the counter and paying the small fee. He tried to shake off the paranoia that creeped behind him like a shadow monster, grabbing his shoulders and stealing his breath.

Ben spoke to no one other than the man behind the desk of the motel that he reserved a room in. He chose the name Sean Boyce, taking inspiration from the second James Bond actor, Sean Connery. He was careful to avoid any connection to the spy school, thankful that the man didn't ask for an ID and let him pay in cash. As Ben opened the door, he pulled out his gun and checked the room, beneath the bed and any cranny he could find.

Blinking slowly, his brain caught up with his actions and his breath began to slow as he stood in the motel room, unsure of why his frantic paranoia had brought him here. Ben collapsed onto the bed, his head in his hands. Why did he have to be like this? His life was controlled by the ghosts of his pasts and the men he so despised. If- when- they discovered him and his fraud, he would be declared an enemy, a fugitive for the rest of his life. Ben was cursed with knowledge, and that knowledge would bring downfall.

He stared into the mirror, suddenly aware at how alien the honey blonde looked in his hair. It was strange to see. His hands shook as he reached back into the backpack he purchased just an hour before and grabbed out the contacts. His eyes turned a shocking grey, and he blinked, his eyes watering uncomfortably as they began to adjust to the contacts. He looked different, his cheeks hollow from lack of sleep and nutrients.

There was a stranger in the mirror. Ben had tried to avoid looking into them for years, afraid of the monster he'd see. Would a killer be staring back at him like the one from his nightmares? Instead, all he saw was an odd boy- looking like the spy he was supposed to be- with tears in his eyes and a scar highlighting his jaw. He distracted himself with the thought of covering up identifying marks, and grabbed the blank identification card that he had nicked from his room. The necessary information was laid down on it, and he gave a small sigh when it was finished, deciding that it was adequate enough. "Sean Boyce" was twenty years old, and was getting his associates at the community college nearby. He'd be applying for jobs at the nearby town, hopefully securing one at his parent's grocery to keep an eye on them.

The night passed slowly, in slimy dreams and creaking beds. The springs that poked into his backs felt like guns, knives and certain death. Ben was awoken several times throughout by the call of a creature outside or the prickling of his spine that warned him that he was unsafe. He sat with his head in his hands for the wee hours of the night that remained until the sun came up. But even that did not chase the monsters away.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I was wondering if you had any job openings?" After a shower and the appliance of his disguise, Ben looked like a new man. His mother, Cathy Ripley, looked up in surprise. Ben hastened to continue once he had her attention. He straightened up slightly, adjusting the hem of the plain t-shirt he had gotten from the store and letting his foot twitch. Keeping his eyes on the floor would make him seem nervous- help him keep under the radar.

"I'm at the college nearby," He said, wringing his hands together in an old habit to display the nervousness he felt deep down, wondering if his mother would recognise him. "I-I'd like to get a job. I worked at my local Harris Teeter back in high school. I'm a hard worker, ma'am."

"We do actually have an opening, young man." Cathy responded, smiling at the boy. "What's your name?" He blushed with embarrassment, extending his hand. Did she really not notice? He wanted to call out, tell her that it was him- Ben, her son. The creature that hovered on his shoulders told him of the danger, so he resisted the urge. Did they miss him? What would he learn?

"I-I'm Sean Boyce, ma'am."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sean."