I awoke sitting in front of the computer. I had just had a really weird dream in which my computer was working of its own accord. I laughed bitterly to myself. Now I really was going nuts. Anyway, back to business.
I wheeled into the kitchen and picked up the carving knife. A 12 inch razor sharp blade with a vicious point on the end. One thrust into my body and I would die. Yet somehow that idea no longer held any attraction for me. I felt that there was something important, a purpose that I had, although I had no recollection of what it was. I resolved to discover it. So I put the knife away and made a cup of tea.
I stayed in the kitchen, thinking over yesterday's events. So our murderer was dead. And with that, all the mystery of his inhuman strength and his flight were swept under the table. I felt there was more to his death than simple suicide. The phrase 'stabbed in the back' floated into my mind. I didn't know why, I didn't feel betrayed. I moved back to the dead killer. So he killed himself with his own knife. They hadn't mentioned finding the knife. What if it wasn't suicide? What if we were dealing with a murder?
'Stabbed in the back' pervaded my thoughts again and again. Stabbed with his own...of course! It couldn't be suicide! How could he stab himself in the back? Someone else did it, and took the knife that had now been used in two murders. I needed to tell someone.
I called up the police station and asked to be put through to the boss. When Todd picked up the phone, I said 'Uh boss, we need to get a manhunt out. Now.'
He was silent while I explained all this, then swore loudly.
'Shit! How could we have missed that? I must be getting soft in my old age. Good...good work Garret. I'll keep you posted on any updates. Todd out.'
And so the chase was back on, but I was restricted to a specatator's viewpoint, sidelined. What practical use was I?