Shattered Ch. 03

The thunderous sound of the helicopter roared over the sound of Steve's stereo. The tremors felt, even inside the safety of his car, reminded Steve of his current predicament. Homer wrote of such horrible events such as being stuck between a rock and a hard place, or succumbing to the deadly song of the siren, or even coming home to find that the hero's wife has taken on another suitor. The Odyssey was always his favorite piece of literature in high school; however, he never anticipated that he would have to endure his own brand of mythological torture. Steve waited for the helicopter to leave before putting his car in drive. His eyes followed the helicopter until it was no longer in sight, knowing that it carried the remnants of his past twenty years.

The dark skies of the night started to pale and take on color as Steve turned onto the freeway. Once on the road, Steve silenced his radio and returned to his thoughts. He had to regroup and prepare for what awaited him at St. Mary's Medical. Amber is right. I do need closure. I need to find out why she betrayed me after twenty years. But I'll be damned if I'm going to take it easy on the bitch. A one night stand would be hard to overcome, but we could have done it. A one night stand in our marital bed: it would take a fucking miracle for me to forgive that, but miracles are known to happen from time to time. But a prolonged affair that included giving the asshole a blowjob when she denied such favors to me? Hell no! The bitch can go fuck herself.

A gentle turn in the road affected Steve's thoughts. Who's going to take care of her, though? If she's left paralyzed from this accident, who's going to be there for her? She is, after all, the mother of your children. The boys are going to need support throughout this, too. You can't just scorch the Earth with her burnt carcass. C'mon, Steve, remember when you left the electronics store fifteen years ago in search of something better? You disrupted your family's life with the move. And for what? In another five years, you wound up coming back home, forcing yet another disruption in their life. But Jill stood by you then. Ok, she raised Caine a couple of times, but she stood by you. She didn't fully understand, but she was there for you.

Feeling the wind gust caused by a semi passing his little car, Steve rebutted his own thoughts. Yea, but the move was for the betterment of my family. It's not like I chasing tail or did it simply because it's what I wanted to do. I did it because there was more money at the end of that rainbow. I sure as hell didn't cheat on my wife. I definitely had the opportunities, being surrounded by young nurses, but I didn't. I remembered my vows. Ok, I might not have been the best husband during that time. I might have been married to my job more than I was to my wife, but I did it for the money. The boys required braces or needed new equipment for their different sports they played in. Hell, she needed new clothes every year, or she needed a bigger house. I couldn't do that on a salary set in stone based on an Associate's degree. The change not only gave me a salary increase, but the shifting of organizations gave me a new perspective.

And she left me for a fucking forklift operator? How in the hell is that guy going to give her a better life? Ok, he might be twice my size, full of muscle, and apparently, hung like a fucking horse, but how does that matter? There is more to life than what happens between the sheets. Is he going to be there for her now that she can't fucking walk? Or even better yet; is he going to be there for her now that she can't feel a damn thing below the waist? Yea, that asshole is going to move on to the next piece of ass that he can find since she's dead to the world down there. Well, she made her bed so now she has to lie in it. It'll take the parting of the Red Sea for her to convince me otherwise.

The theme song to his favorite 80's time traveling movie interrupted his thoughts. His smart phone was a glow, indicating that someone was calling him. The caller ID did not have a picture associated to it, which meant it was not somebody in his contacts.

"Hello?"

"Heya Rooster!"

Steve rolled his eyes and responded with dread in his voice, "What do you want, Jimmy? I'm kind of busy."

Laughter could be heard in the background as Jimmy managed to maintain some composure, "Well, I just wanted to know if I could be next. I hear that your wife gives great head."

Jimmy and the chorus of male laughter on the other end of the phone did not even realize that Steve hung up on them. Steve pursed his lips together and said resolutely, "Fuck you, you fuck."

Between his thoughts and the humiliation, Steve steeled himself and shielded himself from the pain of his broken heart. A determined look materialized in his eye as he turned off the highway. The medical center was no longer his destination. His little car chugged in protest at the sudden change in direction and the change in speed, but Steve had been pushed past his limits. He forced his car to the envelope as well.

With phone in hand, Steve called Eric. Skipping with formalities, Steve questioned in a no-nonsense tone of voice, "Eric, do you still have those tools from your cyber defense competition?"

Eric's voice was filled with concern and suspicion, though the excitement of using the hacker tools in an unethical manner could not be missed either, "Sure, but why? Or do I want to know?"

"It will be best that you don't. Could you have them ready for me in about ten to fifteen minutes?" Steve paused for a moment as ideas continued to formulate in his head. "Oh, and we never had this conversation. This phone call is nothing more than me telling you that I won't be in today, and that you'll need to rebuild the central switch."

Eric did not hide his glee, "Right, boss. A thumb drive will be waiting for you in my mailbox. Don't do anything that I would do."

During his trek back to his hometown, the sun broke over the horizon and illuminated the countryside. The golden sun hung like a heavenly beacon to his destination, beckoning him to reach his true destination. All of his worries and problems were left behind at the point where he made his U-turn. The only thing that mattered now was the next step. It did not take long for him to acquire the tools necessary for his desired plan of retribution.

With the thumb drive in hand, Steve punched in the address of Christopher Whitman to his smart phone's GPS application. The computerized voice of the phone's application reminded him of one of his favorite sci-fi television series, which brought a smile to his face. Engage, he thought to himself as he started driving to the new coordinates.

Though Steve tried to remain stoic as he drove to where the computerized voice directed him, but the egresses of the run down trailer park conjured up hurtful images. She would rather fuck some guy who can barely afford to live in an aluminum box than be with me? Hell, that fucking mustang of his is probably worth more than this entire park. He tilted his head to one side as his lips curled with a sinister look. That asshole was probably too cheap to pay for full coverage. His display of driving skills probably meant the end to his muscle car.

As the computerized voice indicated that he was arriving at his destination, the smart phone flashed the presence of Wi-Fi networks in the area. Not a single wireless network had a padlock symbol by them, which meant that they were not encrypted. Steve shook his head as he pulled into an abandoned trailer's parking area. He looked up to the ceiling of his car as he thought to himself, Thank you for stupid people. He reached into the backseat of his car to retrieve his laptop, and quickly plugged in the thumb drive that Eric left for him.

Screens flashed in front of him as he navigated through the different tools and the different Internet addresses. His eyes flickered from word to word, focused on the task in front of him. The apathetic and indifferent nature of the residents of the trailer park paid little attention to the beat up car, or the fact that the driver did not get out of his car. Silent gratitude came from Steve once again. You're definitely making up for last night. As he hit the enter button to implement this last command on his computer, Steve punched the ceiling repeatedly. Ha! I never thought I'd be so happy with the city's budget cuts than I am right now.

Steve navigated the new screens, which belonged to the police department's new information system with a vengeance. They really should have spent the money to get a worthwhile IT Director for the city. Oh well, their frugality is my gain. A few clicks of the keyboard caused yet another smile to form on Steve's face. What was Officer Rickman thinking when he scheduled that? Didn't he know that the car should have just been impounded, not scheduled to be destroyed at the junk yard today at 9am?

Steve spoke in his best Spanish-accented English while shaking his finger at the screen, "Jimmy, you have a lot of explaining to do."

Steve entwined his fingers together and stretched his hands out forward. The cracking of his knuckles reverberated throughout the interior of his car. Satisfied with his accomplishments on those screens, Steve uttered, "Next!"

Steve dug into his laptop's carrying case to retrieve a single sheet of paper, where Steve scribbled all of Christopher Whitman's personal information and demographics. Of course, the street address was necessary for the first part of this voyage; however, more vital information was needed to complete the task. Here phish-y, phish-y, phish-y, Steve called out in his mind. Steve showed little hesitation in typing Christopher Whitman's social security number and all of his other personal financial information into known phishing sites.

"One last thing..." mutters Steve, as he pulled up a new web page. Heartland Trucking's web site promoted the small fleet of trucks owned by Daniel Hart, his next door neighbor and husband to Gloria. Let's see if he does web hosting, or if he actually has his web site on his own network. If he does, he's going to be Broken Heartland Trucking.

Much to his surprise, the web page for the small trucking company did sit on the perimeter of their network. With a few well placed programs and utilization of unblocked ports in the company's firewall, Steve accessed Dan's place of business. Financial records and employee records were the first items of business; however, the logistical software was his desired designation. Deleting records or altering the cargo's intended destination was only a few examples of the chaos that Steve had planned for the people that screwed with his life.

When Steve looked up from the computer screen, the morning sun had shifted to be high overhead. He arched his back and rolled his head, helping to alleviate some of the kinks that come with sitting in an improper position. Physical therapists always rant and rave about ergonomics. Now, I can see why. Steve rubbed his neck as he looked around the trailer park. Steve started up the engine to his car. Get used to your new home, you trailer park whore.

After stopping for gas, Steve drove an hour on the highway to St. Mary's Medical Center. After performing his ritual of digital retribution, Steve's mind was at peace. The question lingered as to why the love of his life betrayed him, but it no longer tugged at his heart. No more tears were cried as Steve had buried the past week under the ones and zeros used to destroy the lives of those who ruined his life.

The tinted glass windows, the waterfall in the lobby, and other architectural designs indicated wealth and luxury, a polar opposite of the hospital in Steve's small hometown. The use of technology in the visitor's kiosks was only one example of the advances found in the larger facility. Steve could not hide his envy as he navigated his way to where his wife recovered from surgery. I can only imagine what the medical bill is going to be like after this mess, wondered Steve.

Steve's mental conversations were interrupted yet again. This time, the nasally sounding voice that grated on his nerves spoke with defiance and hatred, "My sister has been here for over eight hours, and you're just now strolling in? What kind of husband are you?! I'm so happy she's divorcing your sorry ass."

Steve raised an eyebrow at this new revelation. Mary, my favorite in-law. Steve rolled his eyes and shoulder bumped his sister-in-law on the way to his wife's room. All the pain, all the drama, all the anguish that Steve endured did not prepare him for the sight that he witnessed at the threshold of the hospital room. Jill's weakened frame gave her a sickly look. Her complexion lacked color and paled in comparison to the light blue hospital gown. The IV inserted into her arm looked like a spaghetti mess, typically seen in his networking closets. Jill was being rebooted.

All of the emotion came flooding back. Memories of his first date with his wife, their wedding day, and the honeymoon struck him like a ton of bricks. Memories of all the birthdays, anniversaries, and celebrations took his breath away. He felt his heart drop, though; when he noticed that Jill turned her head away from him. She did not want to see him.

Softly, Jill spoke, "Don't look at me, Steve. I don't want you to see me like this."

Pain and misery permeated each syllable she uttered. Tears trickled down her pale cheeks. Steve wanted to reach out and wipe away those tears, embrace his loving wife to console her, and tell her that everything would be ok. However, his feet were anchored by the events that transpired the night before. He was being torn, yet again. Steve opened his mouth, trying to find the words to say. He was so certain of the verbal assault he wanted to give his cheating wife, but the image before him stole his thunder. He cared for this woman for the past twenty years. His heart could not bring him to barrage her.

"Just leave her alone, Steve," spoke that annoying voice from behind. Mary walked past Steve so that she could claim her place by Jill's bedside. "She doesn't need you any more."

Steve ignored Mary as he looked towards his weakened wife, "I just want to know why, and then I'll be gone."

His words stung Jill. Regret and remorse covered her face as she weakly turned back to her husband. Her eyes expressed the sorrow and sadness that consumed her. She lifted her hand in an attempt to grab hold of her husband, even if he stood several feet away from the bed. However, Mary took Jill's hand and patted the back of her hand in a comforting manner. The interruption in Jill's gesture caused her to look away once again in grief.

"You want to know why? Because you're an asshole, Steve. That's why! You're never there for her. You care more about your stupid job than you do for her," explained his sister-in-law with venom. "She finally found someone that made her feel alive, that made her feel like a woman again. I'm happy for her. You should just leave her alone so that she can be happy with her new man."

Jill turned back to face Steve. It was evident that she did not fully agree with her sister's sentiment. She said in a soft manner, "I did not want you to find out like this. I did not want to hurt you."

"You could have said something. We could have gone to counseling," said Steve, sounding quite defeated.

"Time for counseling was long overdue. She found the comfort in the arms of a real man, Steve. So why don't you just go back to your computers and let her get on with her life," spat Mary once again.

"Mary, stop. Can you give me and Steve a few moments?" Jill pleaded in her weakened state.

Mary reluctantly got up from the bedside seat. Her dark eyes bore into Steve, trying to gouge out his eyes and his heart. The temperature of the hospital room went up a degree or two when she finally exited. Jill, once again, reached out for her husband. Steve took a few steps into the room, so that they could share some privacy; however, he refused to take her hand. Jill acknowledged the pained expression of her husband and lowered her hand.

"Yes, I should have said something to you. But I was so caught up in the whirlwind. I wish I could explain everything to you, Steve."

Steve folded his arms and said with little to no emotion, "Instead of wishing, just do it. I can't read your mind, Jill."

"I'm almost forty years old. I've lived half of my life. With the boys all grown, there was nothing left for me in the house. I needed something to fill that void. And with you always working and going on business trips, I got lonely."

Steve sighed, shaking his head, "You could have said something to me. You could have gone with me on those business trips. I offered countless times to book you a room. We could have even taken the weekend before or the weekend after those trips to have just 'you and me' time."

Jill said dejectedly, "I know, Steve. I know. I guess now, I wish I would have taken you up on those offers." She looked up with despair, "But I don't think we could have afforded it. We'd be in so much debt."

"I would much rather go into debt than letting our marriage suffer," countered Steve.

Jill closed her eyes. The verbalizing of their dying marriage hurt her. She remained quiet, hoping that when she reopened her eyes, that all of this was some horrible nightmare and it could all be forgotten.

Steve's voice interrupted her silent wish, "So what about this Chris fellow? Are you in love with him?"

"I don't know," She hoped that her ambiguous answer would appease her husband's curiosity. The stone cold expression from Steve proved to her that such hope was folly. She continued, "He's not you. He pays attention to me. He likes to do things out in the yard. He likes my garden. He shares time with me. He makes me feel like the things I like matter. He compliments me on how I look. He tells me how beautiful I am. He notices when I do my hair."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Look, Gloria's boy-toy is going to say all those things and do all those things because he wants to sleep with you."

The horror on Jill's face was priceless for Steve when he mentioned the nickname that Gloria used for Chris. However, Jill got defensive. She mustered up the energy to retort, "So are you saying that I'm not beautiful?"

Steve's shoulders dropped, "No! I'm not saying that at all. I think you're gorgeous. I thought I said that enough, but obviously I didn't. Look, I'm sorry if I made you feel neglected or ugly or any of those things. You know I loved you. Everything I did, I did for you and the family."

Jill looked away, unable to face her husband. In her heart, she knew his words to be true. Without looking back, she asked, "Do you think you can forgive me?"

"Forgive? Yes," Steve sighed, trying to find the energy to continue this conversation. "But I can not forget what you have done to me and our marriage. Though, according to Mary, it sounded like you have already given up on our marriage and have filed for divorce."

Jill turned back to Steve. She once again lifted her hand to touch her husband. Her eyes pleaded for understanding, "That was Mary's doing. If I could go back in time, I would change everything, Steve. I would! I'm so sorry!"

Steve shook his head, "Shoulda, woulda, coulda, Jill. You can't change the past. When I came home early and found you having sex with Chris on our marital bed, my heart and my love for you died. If I could go back in time, I definitely would not have come home early. But I can't change time, and so now, every time I see you or think of you, I see you with him." Steve ground his teeth, "I hear those hateful words that you said. I can't get that out of my head no matter how hard I try."