Unmistaken Identity

James‘ eyes flutter open. Dark smoke floats overhead. Dull flashes of red and orange reflect off the shadowy clouds. He tries to move as fear of the fire grips him. But his body is unresponsive, lying limp on the stony ground. They’d better get here quick, he thought to himself. Those emergency drills are expensive; and a waste of money if they’re not going to be ready for emergencies. James tries to move his unresponsive limbs again, but to no avail. I’ll be firing a few people when this is over; have to set an example. This response time in intolerable.

Shoes crunch dully on the soil near his head. At last, he thinks, someone to get me out of here.

“I’ve got another one!” an obscure voice said. A helmeted head appears over James. Swirled reflections of black, orange and red obscure the man’s face.

“Who is it?” asks an unseen person.

“I’m not sure.” says the man as he rubs a sooty glove over James’ eyes, ears and nose. James’ vision and hearing clear. And he can smell the smoke now. It has a sulfurous quality to it.

“Looks like just another blast victim.”

But as the man’s sooty glove runs over James’ mouth, James finds his voice again. “Just another victim!” He stops to spit out bits of dirt and rock left by the dirty glove. “You obviously don’t know who I am,” he yells. “I am…”

“James Emory Johnson, the former CEO of VistaTech Chemicals,“ the third person broke in. “And I’ve been looking for you.”

“What do you mean former?” asked James. “I’m still in charge!”

“Pardon me, I misspoke myself.” says the third person, now hovering above James. And wWith a gleeful smile, he says, “I should have said the late CEO. Welcome home.”