Prologue

"John, honey, are you there?"

Sitting on a stained hand-me-down couch, John worriedly smashed the keys on his laptop. His tongue stuck slightly out of the corner of his mouth. The rhythm of fingers hitting keys frantically increased. Then silence; John groaned as he picked up the phone and set his computer off to the side, the screen displaying "Game Over" in a thick bloody font.

"Hey, Mom, sorry I was just finishing up some work for the data entry I have due tomorrow."

"Oh John, you're always working. You need to take a break every once in a while." His mother said matter of factly.

"I know, Mom, I'll come home soon; how is Molly doing with school?"

"She is doing well; however, she is more concerned about the dance recital she has been practicing for. She claims she is ready, but I'll bet she looks like a baby deer stumbling from left to right when the time comes."

John could hear the eye roll in his mother's voice. He chuckled as he said.

"Give her a break; she is only twelve. I'm planning on coming next week to see her moves."

"Aw, I'm sure she will love that, Johnny."

"Okay, Mom, I'm going to get back into this project for a bit, then I'll head to bed. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye now"

John hung up the phone and looked around at his run-down apartment. The drywall cracked in several places, and his wilted brown plant that sat in a pot by the window that overlooked a narrow street in downtown Houston. His dog Jerico sat up from where he had been lying on the couch and whined. The bright red ball he loved in his mouth, tail wagging insistently.

"Okay, okay," John sighed, "But only for a few minutes, buddy; I need to get some work done so I can present something at this fucking meeting tomorrow."

He said with exasperation as he took the ball from his dog's mouth. John threw the ball at the refrigerator in the kitchen only a few paces away, and Jerico shot off the couch, paws and claws scrabbling for purchase on the linoleum flooring. He snapped the ball out of the air on the third bounce and brought it back. The process repeated for a few minutes until John faked throwing the ball and quickly tucked it under the couch.

"Where did it go?" He asked the confused dog while retrieving his laptop and filling in more data strings. He felt terrible, but that crazy dog would play fetch until the world ended if he could, and more work was yet to be done. The clicking of a keyboard soon filled the air; this time, however, work was being done. John lost himself in his work, the average life of an office drone. His career, if it could be called that, was with a company called Hexicron Tech, a major player in all tech markets, from video games and cyber security to cutting-edge advancements in robotics. John, however, was part of the company's data analysis team. It wasn't a glorious job or a perfect one, but it was a job, and it paid the bills. John returned to himself as he put the finishing touches on his project. He stretched his arms up towards the ceiling and cracked his neck. Standing, John walked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. A red and blonde shock of hair stood atop his head; the sides were cut short, but the top was long and messy his unassuming face had begun to look a little gaunt over the last months with dark bags under his eyes; he looked the part of a man who sat in front of a keyboard for seventy to eighty hours a week including weekends. John wasn't scrawny but close to it with a waist size that matched most women. He sighed with dissatisfaction; loading his toothbrush with a dollop of toothpaste, he began to brush.

A few minutes after, John was lying in bed with Jericho at his feet. A b list movie was playing quietly as John tried to sleep. On the Tv a man darted out from a crowd of bystanders to tackle a woman to safety. They came up from the pavement together, hair perfect as the woman stared longingly into the man's eyes. John rolled his eyes with a muttered "whatever" as he clicked off the television and rolled over pulling the covers over his head. His mind raced, anticipating the meeting to be held first thing in the morning. John tossed and turned fitfully, searching for the release of sleep; it finally came as the clock read 03:00.

The following day came all too soon as the blaring alarm ripped John from his fitful sleep; he quickly jumped out of bed and threw on the clothes he had laid out the night before, a gray collared short-sleeve shirt and khaki pants he ran to the kitchen. While he filled Jericho's bowls with food and water, the dog bounced around him, mistaking the flurry of movement for playtime.

"Sorry buddy, you know the drill. I gotta work; Mrs. Matthews will come by to walk you soon. Have a good day."

John said as he stuffed his laptop charger and a water bottle into his backpack and headed out the door. Quickly making his way down the six flights of stairs, he began his commute to Hexicron HQ, only five blocks away. John kept his head down as he passed the homeless and business people in his rush to the offices. The crosswalk timers were taking forever, and today of all days, wasn't the one for delays. He edged up to the street, waiting for the white walk sign to appear.

"Come on, Come on," John muttered as he checked his watch.

Ten minutes and two blocks to go plenty of time.

In the periphery of his right eye, a woman stepped out into the street, obviously in a rush, her dark hair billowing out behind her in the slight breeze. Time seemed to slow as the car in the close lane entered his left periphery.

Four or five moments, John. Four or five moments are what you will be remembered by. Learn to recognize them when they show their face and seize them.

The words his grandfather had once said to him echoed through his mind.

John kicked off the curb pushing hard at the pavement with his legs, and as his hands met the woman's back, he shoved her with everything his muscles contained, and suddenly the world around him fell into darkness.