KNOCK

KNOCK

Zaire was already awake but Kimberly’s eyes snapped open – panic was reflected within the depths of her pupils.

“Come on out!” The voice urged. “—everybody has already left the party…”

“Shit…” Kimberly whispered. “We aren’t supposed to be here…”

“Why?” Zaire whispered back – he had assumed the house belonged to Kimberly’s acquaintance at least, but…

“My boy- now, ex-boyfriend’s aunt…” She pushed Zaire out of the bed, slipping into her shoes and gesturing to the windows.

“So, you slept – and I am talking literally here – with a fling in your boyfriend’s, aunt’s room?” Zaire clarified, smirking at the end when he noticed the guilty confirmation on Kimberly’s face. “—that’s badass!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE BADASS!” Kimberly shouted.

“Kimberly? Is that you?” The knocks on the door became louder and Zaire – with his keen spatial senses – could detect someone coming up the stairs.

The sound of shifting keys was faint.

“Okay, come on!” Zaire pulled Kimberly through the window, guiding her with both hands to prevent a slip and fall.

The roof wasn’t exactly secure with the morning dew coating the tiles… and a slip wouldn’t lead to the pool since this was an entirely different side of the house.

The door opened at the same moment Kimberly peered over the edge of the roof, witnessing the fall waiting below.

A curtain blocked visibility but that would buy them a few seconds at most – she genuinely considered taking the risk of injury to get away.

There was a difference between cheating on your boyfriend and doing so in his bed – this was not exactly the case and they could be considered broken up due to the text message Zaire had sent, but still, the situation was entirely wrong.

Kimberly could already see her face plastered on the front page of the school’s paper, her scholarship stripped away, and the social suicide and bullying soon to follow.

‘Karma…’ Her mind whispered.

Unfortunately, karma would miss her on this day… Zaire scooped the girl into a bridal carry, pulling her head to his chest as to block whatever could be seen from behind the curtain in the room.

He stepped to the edge. “Close your eyes…” He urged.

Kimberly’s eyes were shut long before… she didn’t have the bravery to jump herself but if Zaire was able to take the choice out of her hands, all the better.

The curtains were tossed aside but all they witnessed was the moment Zaire’s head disappeared beneath the roof… of course, he did not fall the entirety of the way down.

His body could handle it alone, but definitely not when somebody was in his arms.

WHOOOOOOSH

Zaire Jumped the remaining five feet to the ground, bending his knees in the process… it saved him from the worst of the impact and made the falling distance closer to six feet instead of forty.

“So… I don’t think I can run with you,” He mentioned, trying to place Kimberly on the ground, but she gripped him even tighter with her eyes shut. “—at least, I can’t run with you very fast.”

One eye popped open, then the next.

Finally…

“Run!” She whispered, snaking her hand around Zaire’s arm and tugging him along as she darted down the street.

Her house wasn’t very far away, and unlike James’s aunt – who tended to wake up at four in the morning, Kimberly was sure her parents wouldn’t be up for a couple of hours more.

Definitely not at five in the morning.

The duo rounded the block before she allowed them to rest but whether consciously or unconsciously, she didn’t remove her hand from Zaire’s arm.

………

A couple of minutes later, Kimberly was carefully sneaking Zaire into her room.

As it turned out, she didn’t live too far from where the party happened, and she also didn’t receive permission to go to the party in the first place.

“Shshshs…” She hushed Zaire as he made his way through the window. “—Remind me again, why do I have to bring you home?” She asked for the third time.

“Because I don’t want our time together to end?” Zaire awkwardly chuckled.

“You want breakfast, don’t you?” Kimberly deadpanned.

Zaire merely smiled – he was indeed hungry… as it turns out, sleeping with a girl is countless times more exhausting than having sex with them.

In a couple of seconds, the duo settled in Kimberly’s room.

The walls were a mix of purple, pink, and yellow… the posters on the wall were of modern singers, and the classiest thing was a guitar with most of the strings deliberately cut.

Kimberly’s room was chaotic but neat… she was confident enough to invite Zaire into her room, and if she was being honest, Kimberly wasn’t entirely sure why she had done that.

‘Am I hoping something happens?’ She questioned herself.

The answer was a vague yes… but the true answer was the fact that she just liked the company.

“I have school in an hour or two…” Kimberly voiced, lounging on her bed with a sense of freedom she hadn’t experienced in the previous bed. “Guess there is no place like home.”

“I won’t be here for long either,” Zaire mentioned as a sort of afterthought, hoping Kimberly would give him another chance to fuck her… but did he want to?

“Back to home?” She inquired. “Where is that again? You mentioned West African but you didn’t say where you stay in The US…”

“I like the mystery,” Zaire smirked.

They enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere for some time… Kimberly’s heart started to calm from the earlier incident, and surprisingly, being single made her a bit cheerier.

She was regretful about how it happened, and truth be told, she would probably be on the phone and trying to get her boyfriend back as soon as Zaire left, but for now…

‘It’s okay…’ Her mind whispered.

“Breakfast?” Zaire raised the question, knowing Kimberly had probably forgotten that he came with her primarily to be fed.

“Oh, yeah…” She hopped up, red embarrassment tainting her cheeks. “What do you want?”

“Surprise me…”

“Prepare to be surprised!” Kimberly replied, sauntering out of her room door and into the hallway.

…

A couple of minutes later, Kimberly returned with two bowls of cornflakes and a small amount of flour on her cheek.

Zaire pretended not to have heard her war in the kitchen… obviously, she had attempted to make something that would impress him but, in the end, she could only admit defeat.

“I brought cornflakes…” She awkwardly chuckled.

“I see…” Zaire took the offered bowl, inspecting the masterpiece. “I see multiple colors… smells of fresh grains, and… what is that? Hmmm…” He scooped up a spoon and swallowed it. “—I am tasting a hint of powdered milk…”

Kimberly burst into a giggling fit, almost allowing her bowl to slip out of her hand. “Damn, I mean… you must charm a girl everywhere you go!” She declared in jest.

Zaire’s face cramped for a moment – Kimberly saw that… “Oh,” She muttered. “You have been to a lot of places, huh?”

The mood calmed.

Unaware of his mouth’s urge to move, Zaire prepared a sweet lie at the tip of his tongue but—

“There have been a lot of girls… never thought much about it. There is this one girl though…” He opened up for the first time in years… without meaning to.

There was no judgment in Kimberly’s eyes – as a matter of fact, she appeared even more intrigued by her honesty… this was the most intrigued Zaire had ever seen the girl.

“I still love my boyfriend,” She admitted. “—He has been gone for a while and last night was a mistake that we only made halfway… I wasn’t sure how to tell you that but now – I think I can be honest with you.”

“Her name is Henrietta…” Zaire explained, a genuine smile arching out of his lips. “Damn, she is a fucking hard ass! I mean… no girl has frustrated me as much! And she acts so tough but I am tough… I have had to be in my life, but she walks around like her life is the hardest in the world…”

“You remind me a bit about my boyfriend… this super possessive asshole who has the arrogance to conquer the world but hides it behind a thin, film of self-importance,” Kimberly cursed, finally releasing pent-up emotions.

There was no talking to her friends about it… nor acquaintances since everyone knew her boyfriend…

And her parents, they thought he was good for her.

Zaire chuckled. “I am still waiting for the part about why you dated your boyfriend…” He smiled, though it was straining to remain on his face.

“I don’t know… maybe because my parents wanted it – hell, even I could have wanted it,” She admitted, turning to meet Zaire’s eyes. “—I have met you for one day and I can see who my boyfriend tries to be by looking at you. Only, you don’t fake it… your mysteriousness is genuine – I am pretty sure you don’t tell your girlfriend you have to handle some stuff with the boys but really, you are in your room at home masturbating… that dude took the mysterious thing too far.”

‘Or, probably gay… definitely gay,’ Zaire concluded but his mouth didn’t speak the words.

“I mean… he would knock over a cup by accident just to catch it and look cool. He always watched scary movies with me but his eyes were never on the screen – he was too scared. I am pretty sure he cries when he gets home!”

‘Definitely gay!’

“And there is no se—” She paused at that point.

Zaire smirked and grabbed Kimberly from her bed, lifting her in the air as she wrapped her legs around his waist… they had captured the moment.

Their lips locked in a battle for dominance.

Zaire pressed her against the wall… he maneuvered his waist and did deep strokes… Kimberly swung her hips to and fro – her pussy was getting wetter by the second.

They dry-humped for a couple of minutes.

…

When they came down from the high, even knowing the sex wasn’t really sex, the duo could barely look each other in the eyes.

Zaire had cummed in his pants – an amateur mistake.

Kimberly’s jeans had a large wet spot between her legs, and moving while feeling her own juices flowing down her leg was disturbing.

She grabbed a towel from the wall, hiding the splotches on her jeans, and dashed out of the room and into the bathroom.

Zaire blinked at the girl was gone… he wasn’t particularly embarrassed but he had to acknowledge the fact that this hadn’t been his best showing.

WHOOOOOOOSH

………………………………

Zaire Jumped into the lake in Reston.

The water jolted his mind further awake and the general location offered some comforts.

“I have to deal with that sheriff,” He thought.

There was no doubt The Sheriff had already issued a warrant for his arrest… after all, Patty and Brenda had been injured in his small, mysterious cottage.

Zaire couldn’t deny that The Sheriff’s wife had been to his cottage once or twice… the first time to apologize to Zaire and spare her husband a lawsuit for discrimination, and the second time… well.

“She spread her legs wider than some of the whores in my class,” Zaire muttered to himself.

‘Does The Sheriff know?’ Zaire doubted it, but the man was probably sexually frustrated enough to pick on the black kid anyway.

“Fortunately, an alibi is nothing for me,” He commented and thought about the account he wired money to on a daily basis. “—though the money is more of a formality, I guess it’s time to call in that favor from Jack.”

Zaire was very resistant to the thought of being hounded by The Sheriff so he directly called in the biggest dog in his contact list = Jack Bristow.

Jack was a big corporate lawyer who once needed to get somewhere to save his marriage – Zaire got him there, no questions asked and the man had owed him a favor since.

As he floated in the lake’s water, Zaire directly withdrew his phone from his pocket… if his phone could be ruined from merely getting wet, then Zaire was not taking his status as a Jumper very seriously.

The Jumper sent a text… that was all it took.

‘Now is not time to head home…’

WHOOOOOOSH

…

Space churned and Zaire was spat out – he stumbled.

The lights flickered on as the motion detectors picked up his movements… Zaire was pleased that Bugg hadn’t sold him defective products in the end.

Of course, he trusted Bugg but only as much as you could trust anyone in the technology-stealing business.

It was a room – a simple room… still, it was one of the more secure places in Zaire’s secret Jumping repertoire.

Out of all The Jumpers he knew, and admittedly that was not a lot, Zaire judged that he was the only one who thought far enough ahead to secure a room directly below a supermax prison.

“This is the place they put someone they don’t ever want to be found,” He muttered, and by them, he of course meant, THE CIA.

Zaire stripped out of his clothes and proceeded to take a bath – the shower was a hole six feet above the wall so Zaire had to bend his back to bathe.

And the flooring was flat throughout the room so the water drained through the countless holes in the ground… conveniently, those holes could also be used to fill the room with water.

The room was a death trap – Zaire had always planned to remodel the room but, on second thought, with Nazis in the picture… no paranoia was too much paranoia.

The bath barely lasted five minutes before Zaire felt a thug on his consciousness… it was a mix between his sixth and spatial senses.

It was actually what directed him to the cottage in time to save Brenda and Patty, though it had manifested while he was in the Astral Dimension.

Zaire quickly slipped into a J. Crew’s Casual Suit from the Spring collection… it wasn’t the most expensive clothing he had worn but two-thousand dollars wasn’t exactly a small price.

Though he had his choice of three suits in the bunker, Zaire only had one choice when it came to footwear – a brown loafer.

WHOOOOOOOSH

……………………………

Zaire found himself in the familiar drug house – his eyes immediately scanned the surroundings.

“Nobody…” He noted. ‘Not surprising… even Crack heads shouldn’t come back to the place of a shootout… or well, at least when there are no drugs here.’

It took a couple of minutes of exploration for Zaire to determine that the drug house had been completely abandoned… and if his instincts weren’t enough, the police tape was a big enough hint.

He made his way down the stairs and through the large doors, exiting for the first time to check exactly where in The US he was… if he was currently in The United States.

What Zaire saw upon exiting the warehouse was…

“New York City…” He frowned. “Of all the dumps in the world, why New York?”

Needless to say, Zaire’s distaste for New York was palpable.

Still feeling the tug from the surrounding space, he picked a random direction and started to walk… it was the curse of a Jumper that they would always end up where they were needed.

At least, that was Zaire’s experience.

And true to his experience, he was hardly a block away before he noticed a familiar figure sleeping on the roadside.

“At least he had the decency to try and fit under the bench,” Zaire joked, staring at the coma-like expression on Brian Finch’s face.

After a minute of looking… it took exactly that time to recall where he had heard the name Brian Finch before.

“Fuck, The Nazis…” He remembered, then stared at the five needle marks on Brian’s arm. “—this fucktard is important to The Nazis? What’s so special about him?”

Zaire almost had the urge to negotiate with The Nazis – they could have Brian if they just promised to leave everyone else… not that he would trust promises from Nazis.

URGH

David groaned, probably sensing the sun was being blocked by someone.

Zaire tilted his head back, and glanced around for a couple of seconds… then he dug into David’s pockets, removing all the drugs.

And there was plenty… Zaire pocketed two dime bags and tossed the rest into the nearby garbage.

The Jumper placed a hand on David’s shoulder and…

WWHHHHHHOOOOOOSSSSHHHH

……………

Zaire appeared halfway across the city.

Walking a block while carrying David was straining but The Jumper merely dumped the useless addict at the rehab center that would ask the least questions.

Of course, Zaire had once been to that rehab center himself… though his addiction to sex has yet to be addressed.

“I hope this buys me discretion,” He announced, slapping almost forty thousand dollars of wet hundred-dollar bills on the counter.

The receptionist’s eyes widened… it was hardly her first time seeing such a large sum but as she did the mad and calculated her take, it would be the only time such funds went into her pocket.

She hardly cared if the money was wet… she was determined enough to hand the bills on laundry day, even if it was one at a time.

“Yes, sir!” She almost saluted.

Zaire smirked – he was just happy to get rid of the money Lucas Boone had so painstakingly collected from his girlfriend – Brenda.

As for what the repercussions would be…

‘Lucas Boone will need to go missing soon anyway…’ The Jumper reasoned.

A couple of minutes later, Zaire exited the rehab center after leaving all of David’s relevant information, most of which was made up.

“Maybe when he is sober, I can find out what is so special about him,” Zaire reasoned.

WHOOSH

……………

Zaire appeared on the limb of a Pine Tree stretching fifteen meters.

The familiar tree had a target attached to the branch.

He was back in Reston… well, specifically, the forest on the outskirts of Reston, where Zaire often went to train.

Three Jumps…

Zaire was on the ground – the earth cracked beneath his feet… he had not yet mastered the art of channeling momentum into his Jumps, but that just meant it was not his specialty.

Zaire did not Jump to where he needed to go next – he was already Jumping too much against his better judgment.

The threat of The Nazis was still fresh in his mind so it was best to keep gas in the tank at all times.

The Jumper casually walked through the forest.

The terrain was bothersome, and the snakes and occasional bears didn’t make the journey to the destroyed cottage any easier.

It took an hour to reach the cottage and another hour to ensure the police hadn’t left anyone behind.

“Probably collected all the evidence they could…” Zaire assumed, not that it mattered since he had already contacted Jack.

The Jumper exited the forest, not even bothering to inspect the mud around his destroyed cottage – there would be no more evidence waiting for him to inspect.

The cottage had been reduced to clumps of ash.

Zaire closed his eyes, attempting to make the cottage in his mind’s eye. “Over there was the kitchen… there, I put the bathroom. If the bedroom was on that side, then in the alternate wall is—”

By the time he came to, The Jumper realized he was digging through clumps of ashes.

There was something he left behind… something very secure.

In hindsight, Zaire regretted leaving something so important in such a vulnerable place, but that was exactly the point… the plan had worked almost too well.

CLING

Something metallic beneath the ground.

Zaire dug around for a bit, withdrawing a metal case that had been buried in the ground nearly two years prior… opening the metal case revealed a go-back inside.

The Jumper slipped David Finch’s ID into the go-bag – in the bag, Zaire kept everything that was supernatural or could lead to supernatural elements in the world.

Zaire paused, thought for a couple of seconds, and also added the receipt from the rehab center in New York City… just in case he had to go and redeem David Finch himself.

‘Nobody cares if an addict goes missing, after all.’

Zaire was mostly lost in his thoughts, standing in the middle of the ashes that was once his cottage… it was a picturesque scene of destruction, and very similar to what had laid in the wake of his village burning down.

Almost as if he was stuck in the same cycle.

DING – DING

The Jumper glanced at the text message. [I am here… need your consent for some matters…] John Bristow had texted.

[Coming…] Zaire texted back.

Space churned and…

WHOOOOOOOSH

……………

Zaire brushed the wrinkles out of his jacket.

He made his way from the alley to the police station two blocks down… the journey was short but made longer by Zaire’s strolling steps.

When he arrived, The Jumper could see the frustration on John’s face.

The Corporate Lawyer was standing on the stairs of the station, constantly checking his five-thousand dollars watch, and tapping his ten-thousand dollars loafers in impatience.

Zaire thought he could dress and wear his clothes with a professionalism that demanded respect, but he quickly realized he was nothing compared to John.

John was a man born rich… Zaire had never been rich, regardless of his previous life or this one.

John raised his head. “You wear it well… too well,” He snorted. “If you want to look like you own it, don’t wear it well… act like it's honored to be on your body.”

Zaire grinned. “You always know what to say…” He sighed.

The Jumper gestured with his head, entering the police station and John could only sigh and follow behind.

…

The interrogation room…

Zaire was sitting across from Sheriff Dale, and though he was in the empty grey room consisting of three chairs and a table, Zaire didn’t feel as if he was the one being interrogated.

“You are saying you didn’t read my client his rights?” John complained… it was baseless but his confidence constantly pushed Sheriff Dale into the abyss of legalities.

“He just came in this mor—”

“Then you should have read him his rights as soon as he entered the room!”

“I’m sorry, we were investi—”

“He is a minor, living alone due to emancipation. Are you telling me that you inspected his home with a Child Advocate?”

“We took nothi—”

“My client owns a 2007 Hummer H3!” John yelled. “He paid tax for it and the car is currently valued at nearly fifty-thousand dollars. Did you get a statement from the bank as if required by USC Title 18, Section 1863?”

Zaire tried not to burst from laughter when he heard the legal code being referenced… due to hanging around strippers, Zaire had become very familiar with laws concerning public poles.

USC Title 18, Section 1863 states it is illegal to tie a giraffe to a telephone pole or street lamp.

The one-sided argument continued… John referenced laws Sheriff Dale couldn’t hope to understand, and while the man stammered to answer, John would raise some more legal concerns.

Zaire was relieved when Sheriff Dale acquiesced to all of John’s demands, lest the corporate lawyer suddenly bring up matters of pay… obviously, Sheriff Dale was being paid too much for the little he did.

A couple of minutes later…

“This contract will ensure you do not bother my client for the foreseeable future,” John offered.

The paper was signed.

“This one will have you return everything useful that remained after the damage to my client’s home…”

Signed…

“This will validate the insurance claims and have my client moved to a new dwelling by the end of the day…”

Signed…

“This will have his Hummer returned immediately…”

Signed…

“This will make sure none of his business is hindered and will double as a guarantor and warning for his landlord…”

Signed…

By the end of all the signatures, Sheriff Dale’s eyes held profound exhaustion… Zaire was similarly exhausted and as soon as the matter was completed, he directly proceeded to recover his hummer.

……………

John and Zaire exited the Police Station and sunk into the Hummer in the parking lot, and under the eyes of a few reluctant cops, they drove out of the gates as if they owned the place.

Destination – Bus Station.

John rolled down the windows of the Hummer, enjoying the breeze as buildings flashed by.

“The insurance payout will be deposited into your account tomorrow,” John voiced.

Zaire hummed, knowing John wasn’t looking for a conversation.

A couple of minutes later.

“Stop here,” He stated, gesturing to the Bus stop on the right.

Zaire nodded and pulled the car into the lane. “Didn’t know corporate lawyers could ride the bus,” He commented.

The door opened.

John hopped out without gracing Zaire with an answer… their relationship was one of reluctance so The Jumper didn’t particularly care.

The Jumper took off when John had taken his seat on the nearby bench.

Zaire drove to the restaurant next, checking to make sure everything was running smoothly – it was.

Chase, despite his lack of formal education, knew enough to keep the restaurant functioning as it should, and profits had increased by a minor margin.

Zaire was in and out of the restaurant in a couple of minutes, merely leaving specific accounts which Chase was tasked with making regular deposits into.

‘Have to take care of my girls…’