Free Stepping Stones by Steve Gannon

his cue to leave.  “Sandee’s shift starts in twenty minutes.  Time I got to work, too.  Thanks for dinner, Sarah.”  He kissed her, then gave me a thump on the back.  “Take care of yourself, pal.  Get some sleep.”
    Get some sleep.  Sounded fine to me.  If only it were that easy.
    After they left I stumbled to the bathroom, grabbed my prescription vial, and shook out several of Dr. O’Brien’s miracle pills.  I inspected them doubtfully.  Were these small pills to be my salvation?  I wondered.  I took two, as directed.  Then I took two more for good measure.
    That night Sarah and I made love.  Afterward I stared at the insides of my eyelids until I heard her breathing turn soft and regular.  Then I eased out of bed, made my way to the den , and turned on the TV .  Not bothering to search for a station, I just sat gazing blankly at the TV snow.  After a while I noticed something peculiar.  Leaning closer, I peered at the screen.  A chill ran through me.  Reflected in the glass I could see myself in a smaller screen, where I was sitting before a yet smaller screen, and another, and another , and another . . .
    The weird thing was—I was looking at my back.
    I got Sarah’s hand mirror.  Holding it to one side, I che cked the screen.  The figure there was holding a mirror too, but now I could see his face in each smaller mirror .
    It was me.
    I rubbed my eyes, then peered again at my images.  A nd a s I watched, they changed.  I saw my multiple selves in one of the casinos.  I couldn’t tell which casino it was , but knew I would recognize it if I saw it again.  I was playing blackjack.  And winning.  Winning big.
    Each blackjack hand was crystal clear, etched in my memory as if I had seen it many times before.  I could make out the dealer, along with several other players.  And there was someone else— a shadowy figure standing behind me.  Although I tried, I couldn’t see his face.
    Once more the scene shifted and I was in a dark room surround ed by looming, unfamiliar objects.  The shadowy figure from the casino crept up behind me. He raised something over his head.  It looked like a knife.  I wanted to scream a warni ng, but horror held me silent.  I saw myself stagger and crumple to the floor, my hands trying to ward off the attacker’s blows.
    And God, oh, God, the blood.
    I turned off the set and sat in the darkness until my heart stopped racing and my breathing returned to normal.  What had I seen?  Had I glimpsed the future?  Or had it simply been a waking nightmare, a result of my insomnia?
    I had to find out.
    Without making a sound, I returned to the bedroom and dressed.  Sarah was still tucked under the covers, curled comfortably around her dreams.  How I envied her.  On the way out I paused in the doorway, then reentered the room .  From the top shelf of the closet I pulled down a small box.  I opened it and took out a revolver that I had bought years earlier after my office was burglarized.  It was a Smith & Wesson .38 Special with a four-inch barrel.  It felt like a snake in my hand.
    I inserted five copper-clad shells, le aving the first cylinder empty.  I shoved the pistol into my belt at the small of my back.  My coat covered it just fine.  If what I’d seen hadn’t been a hallucination, I planned on being prepared.
    The green numerals on the dashboard of my car read three-thirty as I wheeled out of the driveway and headed downtown.  The desert air was still sizzling and I opened all the windows, letting the hot drafts bathe my face.  After passing McCarran Airport , I hung a right on Las Vegas Boulevard, wondering where to begin my search.  Deciding one place was as good as the next, I pulled into the Dunes, left my car in the lot, and entered the casino.  Right away I knew it was wrong.  I left the Dunes and worked my way along the Strip, stopping at the Sands, the Desert Inn, the Stardust, Circus Circus, Bellagio, and the Riviera.  No