Free Switch by Grant McKenzie

Mercedes as they struggled to stay afloat in an ocean of troubling thoughts.
    ‘He wants a million dollars,’ Sam said, thinking aloud. ‘Doesn’t he know I’m a security guard at a shopping mall, for Christ sake?’
    ‘He asked me for the same,’ Zack said. ‘I thought I could raise it, but there just wasn’t enough time. I managed to get most of it by liquidating everything I owned . . . If only he had given me more time . . .’
    Sam looked over, his eyes scanning Zack’s thin frame. There was a lighter band of skin on his wrist where a watch would normally reside. His fingers were also bare of any jewellery except for a simple gold wedding band that wouldn’t have cost more than a grand at even an exclusive jeweller’s.
    ‘What about the car?’ said Sam. ‘The suit?’
    Zack’s eyes flared with anger. ‘I would havecrawled naked to him to save my family. I offered the car. I offered the money. I offered my life in exchange for theirs, but it wasn’t enough.’
    Zack’s knuckles turned white as he squeezed the steering wheel. ‘Do you know what a car’s worth when you need fast cash?’
    Sam shrugged. He had never owned a new car.
    ‘Nothing,’ spat Zack. ‘Friends don’t want it because it’s not next year’s model. The thieves and chop shops don’t want it because it’s cheaper to steal their own. I offered up the car, hoping he would add its value to the cash. He didn’t take either.’
    Sam was startled. ‘He didn’t take the money?’
    ‘There’s over $750,000 in the trunk. It’s worthless to me now.’
    Sam glanced over his shoulder, eyes burrowing through the back seat into the cavity beyond as a terrifying spark of violent imagery flashed before him.
    ‘You don’t need to rob me,’ Zack said, plainly reading Sam’s mind. ‘You can have it. My family is dead, killed by my failure. If I can help yours . . .’ His voice faded.
    Sam was dumbstruck. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
    ‘Say you’ll trust me.’
    Sam looked down at his lap, the fingers of one hand absently crushing and pinching the others. The jabs of pain did nothing to reassure him that he was awake and that this wasn’t just one long, horrible nightmare.
    ‘Trust is earned, not given,’ he said finally.
    The man raised an eyebrow. ‘Not even with a trunk full of cash?’
    ‘Not even.’
    Zack pondered the statement. ‘OK. Until I earn your trust, how about you promise not to slit my throat when my eyes are closed?’
    ‘If you lie to me, or I discover you’re involved with this, it won’t matter if you’re asleep or awake.’
    A thin smile flickered over Zack’s face, momentarily lifting the sadness from his eyes. ‘I can live with that.’
    Sam liked the man, and for a moment he could picture the friendship they might have had: laughter and backyard barbecues; two families sharing a meal . . .
    Sam shook the vision from his head, knowing his mind was searching for an escape from the reality before him. It was one of the things Hannah would constantly admonish him for.
    What planet you on now, Sam?
she would say, her hands jabbing into hips, elbows cocked at a jaunty angle as she rose on her toes in a weak attempt to make herself look larger and more menacing.
Problems don’t go away just because you close your eyes and pretend they’re not there
.
    Sam looked out of the side window, watching the blur of storefronts, their signs unreadable as though his mind could no longer comprehend the language. He wiped at his eyes, clearing a dampcurtain of fog, and ran two dry knuckles under his dripping nose.
    ‘How do we get my family back?’ he asked.
    ‘I don’t have that answer,’ Zack said carefully. ‘But I know you must be exhausted. He wants us tired, not thinking, making mistakes. Like I said, that’s where I went wrong. I was so tired I became blind to his game. He gives you time to torture yourself with guilt between assignments, or “choices” as he calls them. Before he calls you