LOST AND ALONE

Max Headroom: Lost and Lonely

-Chapter One-

The first thing Bryce Lynch wanted when he woke up was the number of the freight train that had run him over.

Cliche? Perhaps. But that was exactly how he felt. His head was pounding and he felt that paradoxical exhaustion that comes from oversleeping.

He tried to think of why he felt so sick. With his eyes still closed, he felt for his glasses on the nightstand beside the bed. He was so surprised to find nothing instead that he fell out of the bed and landed awkwardly on his side.

"What the…?"

He scrambled to his feet, realizing to his horror that he was not in his studio.

"Calm down, Bryce," he told himself. "Just try to retrace your steps. Do you remember how you got here?"

He didn't. Still groggy it was another second before he realized he was nude. He looked around the room for his clothing, but neither it nor his credit tubes were anywhere to be found.

That was not good. Wherever he was, they'd be wanting payment for his stay in the room, and he couldn't make a vu-phone call from the motel without paying for it.

Almost two hundred miles away, Simon Peller was going over the notes of his most recent speech. He had his five TVs set to different news channels.

"The little brat has to be found sooner or later," he muttered to himself. "Of course they'll never believe who he is. So that's him out of the way. I hope that guy I hired didn't do anything nasty to him. Not that I care about some brat's virginity. I just don't want anyone to find evidence they can trace back to him… or to me."

Bryce wrapped the bedsheet around himself like a shroud and lie back down. His entire body ached. No matter how he tried, he could not find a comfortable position. He could not stand for long either. His exhausted body swayed when he tried.

At last the dreaded knock came on the door.

"Housekeeping," a female voice said.

"Go away," Bryce told her.

He was relieved when he heard her footsteps retreating to the next room.

Fine. She was gone. Now what? Maybe he shouldn't have sent her away. But he felt uncomfortable letting a woman in while he was dressed only in a sheet. He wasn't sure why, but it didn't seem right somehow.

At noon, there was another knock on the door. Louder this time. By now he'd rejected housekeeping's attempts to tidy the room three more times. So he wasn't surprised that she'd gone to get some muscle behind her.

He was going to be thrown out. And he doubted they'd let him keep the sheet.

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