The Invictus

1 The Second Day

2003

Chicago, Illinois“Let’s recap from our last session and then see if we can go further. Your cousin Danny, who was a detective with the Chicago Police Department at the time, was there with you when the images appeared.”

“That’s right,” Craig said. “I met him at the church. I wanted to make sure he would be okay. I knew he was going to confront the serial killer he’d been tracking.”

“And it was there that you and Danny did exactly that: confronted the man who attacked you. And sometime during the attack, you saw a vision of how your father had died.”

“Exactly,” Craig replied.

Craig Henriksen was sitting in a comfortable armchair in Dr. Janet Burris’s office in suburban Chicago, next to a large picture window that faced the street. Craig wore tennis shoes, jeans, and a dark polo. Two days’ worth of stubble framed his jawline. Dr. Burris sat in a similar chair, rigidly upright, writing in a notepad as they talked.

He hadn’t seen her in several months, and it had been nearly a year and a half since he and his cousin had endured the terrifying experience she was recapping. They had both almost died in the encounter with the serial killer. But from what exactly, and why? This was still a mystery, despite Craig’s having tried ever since to solve it.

The vision had revealed details of his father’s mysterious murder. And before he passed into unconsciousness, Craig was sure he had heard his father speaking to him. Craig was a small child when his father was killed. Finally learning the reason his father was killed and the manner in which it happened was a penultimate moment for him. Many unanswered questions he had always struggled with had started to come into view. But not everything was revealed during the ordeal, and these sessions with Dr. Burris were part of his quest to understand. “But wait,” she said. “How did you know where Danny was going to confront the killer? Did he tell you? That would seem strange to me, revealing details of a pending police investigation to a family member.”

“No, he didn’t,” Craig responded truthfully. He was finding it easier to be honest with the doctor now than he had in their last session. “And I’m really not sure how I knew. I just had this powerful intuition that made me feel like I was supposed to go to my father’s old church in Iowa. That things would somehow play out there. Not sure why. To this day, I still don’t know.”

It had been an incredible turn of events that led to the confrontation in the church Craig referenced. While he helped decipher clues for Danny at the murder scenes, one had involved a serial killer who later toyed and taunted Danny. The killer finally took the brazen step to kill Danny’s girlfriend, which threw his cousin into a fit of rage. It was then that Craig’s gut led him to follow his cousin back to Iowa —where Craig had grown up—in an effort to aid Danny.

He found Danny gravely injured when he arrived. It was then he learned from the serial killer, who referred to himself as the Tourist, that Craig had been his target all along. All the killer’s actions and efforts up to that point were intended to draw Craig out in the open and into a place where he would destroy Craig.

When he confronted the killer in that church, Craig realized he had greater abilities beyond those he’d already known. He had known he could re-create images of past violent events by touching spilled blood, seeing those episodes play out as shadows and silhouettes. He also had the power to sense the thoughts and emotions of others. His dreams sometimes foreshadowed events he would encounter in the future. But the ability he discovered while protecting Danny was different—it went beyond the intuitive and the visual and into the physical. He’d discovered that he could project powerful waves of force from the palms of his hands; so potent, in fact, that they had kept the inhuman attacker at bay. He was certain that this unexpected, uninvited power was the only reason he and Danny had survived the ordeal. Their assailant had died, though Craig still could not explain how.

Several moments of silence passed. Dr. Burris looked steadily at him and then returned to scribbling on her notepad. Craig noticed that her appearance hadn’t changed much at all over the years. Short and slightly boxy, she sat primly in a modest, conservative business dress, her salt-and-pepper hair closely cropped, holding her notepad, with metal-framed glasses perched low on her nose. She often looked over them at her patient.

It was an overcast morning, with clouds just starting to break apart in the sky. Craig looked out the window and caught his reflection. He’d changed a lot in the last two years. He was nearing his thirtieth birthday and no longer looked so young. Instead, he felt more seasoned. His light brown hair had a few gray ones at the margin. And his smooth, clean complexion now had several deep wrinkles around his eyes and on his brow, born from a new fortitude, internal and external, forged during these recent struggles.

Dr. Burris looked up from her notepad. “And the other thing that happened, beyond the vision . . . what you did with your hands. You see that as a greater manifestation of what you could do before using ‘tactile transference,’ as you called it, this ability to re-create images of violent events. Am I summarizing that correctly?”

“Yes,” Craig answered. “But when we were in the church, and I learned the murderer was the same man who had killed my father years ago, I felt this . . . this deep rage. It felt like something erupted inside of me, and that’s when I discovered I could project blasts of force from my hands.”

“To protect you and your cousin?” Dr. Burris sought to clarify.

“Right, because Danny had been stabbed by this thing, and he was bleeding out.”

“You just referred to the attacker as a ‘thing,’” Dr. Burris pushed.

Craig knew he was taking a chance in explaining further, mainly because he still wasn’t exactly sure himself what the attacker was, and his attempts to learn more had come up empty. And anyway, his newfound ability, as well as all the strange, old ones he’d gotten used to—had been dormant since the battle with the Tourist, the name the killer had given himself.

At first, he was grateful for the respite. Trying to manage powers he couldn’t explain was a burden. During this quiet period of normalcy, many aspects of Craig’s life had lightened up. He was in a relationship. He was continuing his martial arts training. He felt stronger and healthier than ever before. He had unexpectedly come into a sum of money, which convinced him he could return to grad school. But he had been feeling a persistent void for well over a year. He suspected the powers he possessed likely came with a heavy burden, and he now realized that sense of purpose had been important to him. Part of the reason he was consulting the psychologist—though he hadn’t yet expressed it to her—was in the hope that she could help him tap into them again.

So, Craig decided to wade into more honesty with his therapist. “You know how I’ve told you I could re-create the image of a crime scene from the blood of a victim? Well, this time was the first where I could channel the images from a cross I found in the church. And not just any cross, it was one my dad used to wear. When I touched it, I was able to re-create the scene when he was murdered. It was right after that, Danny and I were attacked by the thing that killed my father.”

“There it is again,” Dr. Burris said. “Why ‘thing’? What was it about the assailant that made you describe him as inhuman? It almost sounds like a mythical thing to me.”

“Because it didn’t behave as if it were human. Danny and I injured it in ways that no human could’ve survived, but it still came after us. Like it couldn’t be stopped. Like it wasn’t human. It was relentless.”

Craig paused. He wasn’t ready to theorize on what the attacker was or why it was so determined in its effort to kill both him and Danny. He still didn’t understand it. Craig began to feel vulnerable. He had already revealed a lot to her. But he wasn’t ready to tell Dr. Burris how the spirit of his father arrived just in time to save them as Danny’s life was slipping away. Nor would he tell her about the ensuing conversation he’d had with his deceased father. This seemed a bridge too far. In his mind, Craig remained convinced it had happened. But he did not want to appear crazy.

Feeling the uncomfortable silence between them, Craig broke it. “But maybe I’m sharing a little too much. Too far? You’re not buying this, are you?”

Dr. Burris remained calm, dispassionate, as she removed her glasses and looked at him. “You need to trust that I’m trying to meet you where you are in your memories of this experience,” she said. “When we met months ago, I got the sense that you may not have felt I was taking this as seriously as you do.”

Craig remembered that session well. It was shortly after the ordeal, and he hadn’t been as open.

“At the time, details about your ordeal in the church were sparse,” she continued, “and there were no conclusions about the killer’s intense interest in your detective cousin.”

Craig remembered being grateful that not much had gotten out in the press. As far as he was concerned, the less details known, the better.

“Well, since then, I’ve done more research,” Dr. Burris continued. “Your cousin was quite prominent in the newspapers with his cases, and quite successful. The reports of his pursuit of this serial killer highlighted that this was the case that almost killed him. And,” she paused for a moment, “as I look back through our notes and how you’ve described helping him, let’s just say I resolved to have a more open mind.”

Craig was surprised that she had made the effort, and a touch impressed. He thought it could be a good time to explain his previous apprehension about telling her the truth.

“When I’ve explained to you the strange things I can do, you seemed to think it was all in my head. So, I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if you question the new ability I’ve described to you today. The fact that it’s evolved from visions and insights into something physical.”

“I was skeptical when you first described the re-creations you said you could ‘conjure.’’ And now you’re telling me you can project a force from your hands? Well, if I’m also being honest, I have to say that is equally bizarre.”

Craig felt his guard coming up and his expectations sinking.

Dr. Burris must have sensed his emotions. “But, Craig, as I said before, I have done a little research of my own. Something truly extraordinary must have happened to you in the church, even if it isn’t all that clear or easily explained.”

She took a breath, then said, “I’ve looked into some extraordinary human phenomena in the literature, paranormal abilities that don’t fit a clinical view of what people are supposed to be capable of. As far-fetched as it may sound, I’ve studied, for example”—she flipped through a stack of papers in a folder—“aura reading.”

Craig’s puzzlement showed as Dr. Burris continued to explain. “Aura reading is the perception of energy fields surrounding places, people, and things. I’ve also looked into out-of-body experiences. Bilocation is the process of being in multiple places at the same time. Divination is gaining unexplained insight into a situation. Mediumship, also known as channeling. Precognition, which involves the perception of events before they happen. And lastly, psychokinesis, which is the ability to manipulate objects through thought. Oh, and there’s also retrocognition.”

“What’s that?” Craig asked.

“The perception of past events.”

“Wow, I am impressed. So, which one of those do you think I have?”

“It sounds like a little of all of them,” she said. “There’s no doubt, Craig, that you experienced something in that church.” She paused. “Let’s just say it was outside the range of the normal human experience.”

Finally, Craig thought. Maybe she’s willing to explore this with me.

“As for why none of these things have happened lately, which might give you a chance to understand them better, it could be because your condition has been displaced by happier circumstances.”

“My ‘condition’? That’s an interesting term for it.”

Dr. Burris seemed intent on underscoring a point. “You’ve told me about everything that has been going well for you lately. Think about it: have any of these phenomena manifested since your life has gotten easier?”

“No,” Craig conceded. He did feel good; there was no denying that. Things had been going well. He was optimistic about his relationship with Lauren. He had also recently learned that his father had set up a fund that he could access. This provided financial security. All of this should make him feel good, but he still couldn’t shake a vague sense of emptiness. After years of unanswered questions, he had received some answers when they confronted the Tourist. His powers had evolved, and the words he heard from his father in the church spoke to a purpose and legacy to his abilities. Not pursuing this further felt like a waste.

Craig had recently started to remember more details of that early winter evening. The Tourist mentioned there were others who sought to destroy people like Craig and Danny. If that were the case, Craig felt he should at least be able to access his powers for self-defense. Were all of the positive turns in his life keeping him from exploring this? What did his powers mean and what sort of obligations were attached to them? All these questions had been troubling him, but he hadn’t realized how much so until this moment. This must be why I’m giving Dr. Burris another try, he thought. But have I grown too content to where I can’t connect the dots?

“Maybe the negative feelings you felt when you were younger have been replaced by positive feelings and life circumstances,” Dr. Burris said. “So you could look to the positive side. Hidden secrets were revealed and explained to you, and you were able to save your cousin and yourself and escape from the church before the killer was himself killed by, the paper said, an explosive harness he was wearing.”

Craig remained grateful that the public understood that the Tourist died from suicide.

“Now that things are good for you, and everything related to that encounter has been resolved for the better, you could put it behind you and see what a happier future has in store for you.”

“Or?” Craig anticipated.

“Well, the fact that you’re back here tells me you’re still searching for something.”

Craig felt suddenly vulnerable. She seemed to be zeroing in on the feelings that had just passed through him. He tried to calm himself by pushing his bubbling anxiety to the side. Don’t let it get to you. This is her job, and this is what she does.

“Yes, maybe life’s finally looking up for me, and I shouldn’t look that gift horse in the mouth.”

“Maybe. But why did you come back?” she countered. For the first time, Craig sensed the dynamics between them shifting. He’d always tried to convince her that the things he could do were real, but now she seemed to be challenging him about them, even urging him to examine them more closely.

Dr. Burris pushed ahead. “It would seem that something incredibly powerful and enlightening was revealed to you in Iowa. Maybe you should ask why. For what purpose?”

“Yeah, I guess there are still some things to think about.” This was uncomfortable, and Craig felt like retreating.

She pointed to his chest. “You will want to find out what’s in there and why.” Then she paused and looked at him. “Craig, have you heard the Mark Twain quote about the two most important days of your life? The first is when you were born—”

“And the second is the day you understand why,” Craig finished. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure Lauren has teased me with that one.”

“Lauren . . . your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, she’s one of the things in my life that is going well right now.”

Anchoring back to that, Craig wondered why he would want to risk his current good fortune. There hadn’t been any need for his powers recently, so why should he seek to explore them more with the doctor? He felt satisfied with their session today; he had been heard—a big step. She was finally coming around to believing him. That was enough for now.

“For once, I think it’s my turn to say that our time is up. There’s a bunch of stuff I’ve got to get done today to support those positive turns we talked about. Registering for classes, for starters, and a bunch of other stuff. Thank you. Really. This has been helpful. And we will do it again,” Craig said.

But the doctor wasn’t quite ready to end their session. “Maybe something in your thoughts, or at your core, has manifested in the form of your special abilities,” she suggested. “There definitely seems to be an extraordinary type of energy to them. Being trained as a clinician, it’s not easy for me to conclude that. But as I said, I’ve been reading up.”

But Craig had already checked out. He wasn’t upset by her continued probing, just resolved to finish the session and get on with his day.

“Yeah, maybe. Listen, I truly appreciate your trying to meet me halfway on all this craziness.”

“It’s not crazy if it’s had such a foundational impact on you,” she replied.

As he got up to leave, she stood up and extended her hand to shake. He clasped it warmly in both of his. “Thank you. I appreciate your listening and trying to understand and help me make sense of everything.”

She smiled slightly, seeming embarrassed. Craig felt a current of electricity pass between his palms just as he let go of her hand. Dr. Burris’s eyes widened, but she said nothing as she returned her hand to her side.

“You will see me again soon. I promise,” Craig said. He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Dr. Burris said. Craig turned to face her. “You have a chance,” she said, “a window during which you might be able to understand what happened that evening. I know it’s been difficult to talk about, but I believe you’ve been given a chance to more deeply understand what lies at the heart of your experiences. Don’t waste it.”

Craig wasn’t sure what she meant and was about to ask when the phone in his pocket buzzed. “And I will explore it with you. Next time. For sure,” he said. He mouthed a silent “thank you” to Dr. Burris and slipped out into the hallway. He picked up the phone.

“Hey, Mr. Unemployed,” the voice on the phone said. It was Danny. “I called your apartment and Lauren said you were giving the shrink another try.”

“I gave it a shot,” Craig said. “Just finished up with her.”

“Any new insights?” Danny asked.

“Nah, same old stuff.”

Then Craig remembered Danny had a big day coming up very soon. “Hey, are you going to talk to that new lieutenant tomorrow?”

Danny had made strides since rejoining the force, but the injuries he sustained during the attack had left their mark. His leg had been broken so severely that he still needed a cane to walk, and his forearm had been amputated and was replaced with an advanced prosthetic. As a result, he hadn’t been cleared to return full-time as a detective. That was a hurdle in his career he sought to clear soon.

“Maybe,” Danny downplayed. “I’m gonna try and corner him and see where it goes from there. He’s been a tough read. Not at all like Hammond.”

As Craig descended the stairwell and exited the building, he thought about Danny’s old boss. Hammond had been extremely helpful in smoothing over the unexplained aspects of their encounter with the serial killer. He also seemed to have some tacit awareness of the strange powers Craig had used to help Danny, although he had made it clear he didn’t want to get involved in trying to understand them.

“Well, you’ve got to let me know how it goes,” he told Danny. “This is your time, man, I can feel it. The city is about to get the full Detective Walsh experience again!”

“Slow down, pal,” Danny said. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”

“Call me tomorrow if that’s when it goes down,” Craig said. Then he had an idea. “Or, better yet, let’s get together. Dinner. You and me and Lauren. This time we’ll be dining with my lady friend—”

Craig wanted to swallow the words as they were leaving his lips. Emma had been killed by the Tourist. She and Danny had been romantically involved. Craig felt like an ass for bringing it up.

“Hey, listen, man. I’m sorry . . .”

Danny jumped in. “Dude, let it go. No worries. For sure we can do dinner. It’ll be good to see Lauren again. Let me just see how the next couple of days go and I’ll reach out.”

“Of course,” Craig said, relieved.

“Let me know how the grad school thing starts. Gotta go. Talk to you soon, Craig.”

Craig’s heart was heavy as he hung up the phone; he knew he had chilled the moment. He’d wanted more time to talk with his cousin, but Danny was always in a hurry. And now Craig realized that Danny didn’t get a chance to say what he had called about. Craig stuck the phone back into his jeans and proceeded down the street toward the bus stop.