Life on the Preservation, US Edition Read Online Free Page A

we’re the ones who don’t belong.”
    “Thanks for including me. It’s a game idea, right?”
    At twenty-two, Zach was a staff writer for a Bellevue-based game company called Mindwerks, and he was very good. His most popular creation was a ‘future noir Western’ called Peacemaker , a game that ratcheted the violence into the M zone and beyond. Ian had known Zach since grade school. At Mindwerks Zach pulled down 90k; Ian grilled things at Charlie’s and didn’t declare his tips.
    “Come on ,” Zach said.
    “Okay, okay. Tell me about the Boogeyman. And trust me, I’ve got something even weirder to tell you.”
    Zach pushed his glasses up with his index finger. “Yeah?”
    Ian picked up his empty cup, put it down, studied his hand for tremors. “Yeah, but you go first.”
    “Okay, look. I wake up today and I’m majorly weirded out. For one thing, what the fuck am I doing awake at seven A.M.? It’s unnatural. But I have this feeling that I’ve got to get moving . There’s shit to do, only I don’t know what it is, right? The other thing, it’s not like I usually wake up, especially on a freaking Saturday. It’s like all of a sudden I’m there , wide-awake. Practically before I know it I’m up eating a bear claw. I mean there’s no wake-up transition. I’m on my feet and the day is rockin’.”
    Something uncoiled in Ian’s stomach. Repeat. Then grab a cup of joe.
    “I’m all anxious and nervous,” Zach said. “So I call you. It’s like I’m supposed to call you. I’ve got this energy and I’ve got to do something with it. On the way here I pass a guy sitting on that bench across from my building. And I recognize him. Not like, Hey, it’s good old Bob. I mean I don’t know how I recognize him. But this is what I think. I think I recognize him the same way a rabbit recognizes a fox, even though it’s never seen one. It’s like genetic memory. You always recognize the predators. I walk by him, and the predator feeling is all over me.”
    “What did he do?” Ian said.
    “Nothing. Sat there with this dopy look on his face. I keep walking. And all this shit rises up in my head. The whole Boogeyman thing. Like I’ve known about that guy forever. Now get this.” He gripped Ian’s arm, digging his fingers in.
    “ What? ” Ian said.
    Zach glanced at Cyndi, who was kind of watching them while she slung espresso, then whispered. “I think we – I mean you and me, bro – are the only rabbits in town.”
    Ian stared at him.
    “Tell me yours,” Zach said.
    He told Zach about the phone conversation with Sarah that was full of echoes and déjà vu’s. For now he kept the slack mind trick to himself.
    “I started getting the idea that I was talking to myself ,” Ian finished. “Or to some kind of super Eliza program.”
    “What’s an Eliza program?”
    “Back in the sixties this guy Weizenbaum wrote a program that imitated a basic psychiatric interview by rephrasing people’s statements. It fooled everybody.”
    “That’s cool,” Zach said.
    “Yeah, but this isn’t cool. This is scary.” Ian rubbed his forehead. “Don’t you get it? What if there isn’t any real Sarah out there? Do me a favor.”
    “What?”
    “Call somebody. I mean somebody who doesn’t live in the city. Call your brother.”
    “Why?”
    “I want to know if your conversation echoes like mine did.”
    “It won’t.” Zach didn’t sound too sure.
    “Call.”
    Zach thumbed in a text. “I never actually call him.”
    A moment later Zach’s phone chimed.
    “What’s he say?” Ian asked.
    “Sent a fucking smiley face.”
    “Is that normal? Hey, what’s wrong?”
    “The Boogeyman. Shit, he’s coming in.”
    The Boogeyman walked into Espresso Vivace. Ian watched him closely. Zach fidgeted with his glasses.
    “That’s him?” Ian asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “He looks harmless.”
    Zach’s Boogeyman was maybe twenty pounds overweight. He wore tan Dockers, an REI Gore-Tex parka and a Mariners baseball