Frenzy

by Dawn Brazil

  I stroke the side of his face as the hammock sways back and forth. Clouds have rolled into the evening sky, blocking the moon and the sprinkling of stars.

  “Brian, you know, no matter what Ian tells me tomorrow, I won’t leave you. I won’t give up on us.”

  His eyes trace my face. He tugs me up and kisses me, slowly. His hands find their way to my waist and he turns me on his lap so I’m wrapped around him. Keep breathing, Liz.

  His mouth moves faster against mine. His breathing has increased, and his hands are beneath my t-shirt, rubbing the small of my back. This kiss is desperate, like it might be our final.

  I draw away from him. I can’t kiss him with thoughts of separation in my head. His arms tighten and he tugs me back to his chest.

  “We should call it a night,” I say. “I’m exhausted and need time to evaluate this information. Go home and rest. I’ll call you as soon as Ian gets here in the morning.” Brian doesn’t move; he continues holding me.

  I wrestle myself loose from his embrace to look up at him. He wears a pout. His behavior makes me question the remainder of the talk with Ian. What’s really going on here? Can this be true? I have so many unanswered questions still. Maybe it was wrong to make them stop talking tonight.

  Brian seems lost in his own thoughts, not meeting my gaze. “Brian.” He doesn’t respond. His head rests on my chest. “Brian,” I say, with more force to my voice.

  “Stop trying to make me leave. I know I can’t stay all night. I need one more normal night before everything changes. I’m pretending this is like any day. The two of us watching the sky light up. So, stop, please. I need this.”

  I don’t move as he gazes at me. “I want to kiss you and not feel like I’m saying good-bye. I love you. I need this one thing from you right now, let me stay a while and pretend it’s like yesterday. No stress, no problems, no worries, no Remah,” he says.

  I nod. He leans forward and whispers in my ear, “I love you. I always will. Can you promise me you’ll always love me?” He straightens to look at me when I respond. I still haven’t said ‘I love you,’ but I don’t feel it’s the time to point it out. I don’t even know how to tell when I fall in love.

  “I will,” I say in the smallest voice.

  He proceeds to kiss me—gently and tenderly, not like before.

  I look beyond the large maple tree my parents planted the year before I was born, and wonder if disaster looms behind it.

  I try to care as much as Brian about a possibly dire future, but I don’t have enough imagination to do that.

  Chapter 10

  After Brian leaves, I stroll into our family room where my parents are curled up, watching a movie. “Mama, can I pick your brain?” I drop down on the end of the sofa.

  A lump rises in the back of my throat as I watch them. I’m awestruck as the sensation to cry presses in on me. I fight for control over the tears I haven’t shed in years. A sliver of doubt hides behind my unshed tears. I scoot closer to her and lay my head in her lap. She repositions herself and pulls her long nails through my hair. I close my eyes and relax under her massaging fingers.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “When I was little, you would rub my hair every time I lay my head on your lap. I knew you’d do it now, even though it’s been years since I’ve done this.”

  “You'll always be my baby, that’s why. You know that, right?”

  “Yes, Momma.” She rubs my hair, starting at my hairline and moving to the nape of my neck. I don’t move as she does it. I’ve never enjoyed this as much as I do now. My newfound emotions are good for something else, other than Brian, it seems.

  I sit up reluctantly. “Okay, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “Go ahead,” she says, her eyes alight with humor.

  “Why am I an only child?”

  “Oh, okay,” she says, with a spike in her voice I assume is intrigue. “Well, I had a difficult time conceiving, so I knew it was pointless to press my luck for more.”

  “Why was it so hard to conceive?”

  “Our doctor said the problem was actually genetically with your Dad.”

  “Oh.” I cut my eyes toward Dad. He’s watching TV and paying us no mind at all.

  “So, how were you ultimately able to conceive?”

  “Haven’t I told you this story?” she asks, scratching her head.

  “Um, no I don’t think so.”

  “We did in-vitro. The process took some time to work, but eventually we received the call that we were pregnant. We were ecstatic, but I didn’t have the heart to go through the whole process again.”

  “I understand.” I say, after swallowing enough saliva to get the words past the swell of emotion forming in my throat.

  “Oh—okay. That’s it?” she stammers. I’m beyond fatigued. I have to rest and prepare mentally for tomorrow. I slide from the couch with one thought—if I have to leave, it’ll break her heart.

  “Yes, I just wondered. Good night.” My march up the stairs is slow.

  My mom had just validated Ian’s story.

  Chapter 11

  When I make it up the stairs, my phone vibrates in my hand. It’s Crystal, texting me to call her. My bathroom door is open, and the lure of the shower almost makes me not call. I shake the thought away; she answers on the first ring. She’s says three words: “I’m coming over.”

  After I run downstairs to explain that Crystal has something urgent to talk about and is on her way over, I scramble to my bed, trying to figure out my life. I can’t make any headway with what Ian’s told me. All I can think is that I might have to go to this strange place. How long? With Ian? What do I tell my parents?

  Crystal pushes the door to my room open and peers inside. “Hey, Laurie.” She comes in and drops into my purple computer chair beside the bed.

  “What’s up?” I try to keep my voice level. I don’t want to make her feel that whatever she’s going through isn’t important. If we’re friends, and we are, then her being upset should be important to me.

  “I know you saw me earlier today when you were talking with Ian at school.”

  I did see her; I’d forgotten all about that. I peer closer at her red-rimmed eyes and tight mouth. She’s picking at the skin around her thumb.

  “Did you hear what we discussed?” I ask.

  “Yes, all of it.” A trace of a smile works its way across her mouth. “I’m trying to figure out why you didn’t have an awakening?”

  I sit up straighter and look at her closely. “What do you know about it?”

  “You can’t tell anyone what I’m telling you. Not Brian or Ian, and especially not Stacey. Got it?”

  I nod my understanding.

  “I’m just like you, except my parents stole me away to another universe before my deposit escort could explain all this to me.”

  “Do you mean you’re a researcher clone from Remah?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was your awakening like?”

  “Strange. I was asleep. Sat bolt upright in bed and shit started flashing across my eyes. Like, I was looking at a movie on fast-forward, times one hundred.”

  “What kind of stuff did you see?”

  “I saw Remah. I don’t even remember Remah, because my parents move so much for work. I can tell you anything you want to know about the place, though. I can also tell you about Cerieol. That’s the universe I was on when I had my awakening. So, I guess they downloaded all this crap about the place into my head. Then they drop the bomb and tell you you’re a researcher clone, created for the sole purpose of the Remah advancement.”

  “That sounds kind of exciting, learning about all these new places.”

  “It’s not. It sucks ass so bad—I hate it. I’ve been in constant pain for like a year. And I couldn’t care less about any of these damn cock-a-doodle places. I’m tired all the time. I couldn’t talk to anyone about what was happening. When my parents are around, they ignore me. I’m an inconvenience fo
r them, an afterthought in their busy lives.”

  “Do you have to go back?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Ian said I have to go back to Remah.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No. I guess he’ll let me know tomorrow.” She looks at her fingers again and a tear slips down her cheek. “I can’t take this shit anymore,” she blurts out. “I hate my life. I’m miserable.”

  “I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what else to say.

  “My parents are selfish and only think about themselves. They were supposed to get me to someone who could explain this shit, but they’re too busy. Sorry I was snooping—I’ve never met anyone like me, or who knows what’s going on with me. It’s been lonely.”

  “Crystal, I can talk with Ian for you. He could—

  “No. I can’t. I’m taking a chance telling you. The one thing my parents always told me was not to trust anyone. I’m hoping that you can tell me whatever it is Ian says about all this. That’s all. Just relay info.”

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “And you promise not to tell them about me being a researcher, too?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “Good. I’d hate for my parents to have to kill you or one of your friends.”

  I wait for her to laugh, but she doesn’t. “They’re killers. They don’t know that I know. They’re very clean with their kills.”

  I don’t even know what to say in response to her statement. She hops up, crosses the room, and wraps her arms around me. I don’t return her embrace, mostly because I’m startled by it. “I’m so glad we met. Call me as soon as Ian and Brian leave.”

  Just as she’s almost out the door, she turns and says, “Whoever this person is doing these killings, they seem to be getting closer. There was another murder, this time in Texas. Maybe if you have to go back, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, considering.” She shrugs and walks out.

  Chapter 12

  My eyes flutter closed as soon as my head touches the pillow. Immediately, I know I’m dreaming.

  Doctors abound in a dimly lit operating room that reeks of disinfectant. I stand in a dark corner, watching the scene unfold.

  Creeping on tiptoes, out of my corner and into the light where the doctors perform on their patient, goes unnoticed by everyone in the room.

  I trudge closer to the metal table—that’s the first indication that I’m dreaming. I peer down at the woman being operated on. Deep, crimson scars line the sides and top of her face. Scratches are visible over her arms and on her legs. This woman with hair black as night has been badly beaten. She lies on her stomach as the doctors take a scalpel to her posterior cranial fossa. Her hair has been shaved clean at the area where the doctors make the first incision.

  Blood oozes from her scalp; it’s completely revolting. Yet I watch, unable to order my eyes away. As the procedure progresses, I edge closer, unwilling to quiet the sense of impending danger surrounding me, averse to missing any details.

  A voice rings in my head, instructing me to run away. Find a safe place, because your immediate situation is hostile. I don’t move.

  Second reason I know I’m dreaming, I don’t vomit or even heave as the nerves are exposed. As if the carnage in front of me is natural. The sight of an open cranium is the most unnatural thing I’ve ever witnessed, yet I’m riveted.

  Third reason I know I’m dreaming, my eyes draw to a small strawberry mark on the base of the woman’s neck. Initially, I believe it’s blood, but I press forward anyway, since not one person moves to stop me. My eyes scan the area around the mark. It’s not blood. I scan my eyes down until I can see the woman’s face.

  I recognize my unique birthmark. And my face.

  A shock of realization pulses through me. I stumble away from the table and land on my rear. The woman on the operating table getting her scull torn apart is me.

  A curdling scream escapes my lips. I shuffle to my feet but stumble backwards, further away from the table. An object lying in the middle of the room trips me, and I plunge to the floor. The doctors cease working on the other me.

  One of them yells. “How the hell did she get off the table?”

  I push away from them until I am back in that dimly lit corner. “No, I wasn’t on that table.” They move toward me in unison. “Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me.”

  The doctor who spoke earlier shouts, “She’ll bleed to death if we don’t get her back on the table, now.”

  “I’m not her.” I point at the table I can no longer see because the doctors are obstructing it from my view. “Look.” I touch a finger to my head to show there’s no blood.

  Where my long curly hair should be, nothing exists but my scalp and a moist, sticky substance. I jerk my hand back and stare at the blood covering my fingers. I’m officially in the Outer Limits.

  “No!” I scream. The doctors draw closer, their hands extended and determination in their eyes.

  One doctor wraps a latex-covered hand around my shoulder and tugs me forward. They all descend on me at once. My skin crawls as if there are ants marching over the entirety of my body. When I glance into their faces, my eyes meet emptiness. Where their faces should be, there’s nothing… No eyes, no lips, no mouth.

  I’m lifted from my feet. I thrash my arms and legs in defiance, to no avail. They slam my body against the icy operating table and affix metal restraints to my limbs.

  The screech of an electric saw cuts through the air. I scream again. “Please, don’t do this!” I struggle against the gripping restraints as the buzz of the saw grows closer.

  Suddenly, the restraints are loosened and I lash my arms at the person above me. My hand wraps around soft, warm flesh and I push with all of my strength. My mother’s voice slices through my maniacal movements—calm and sincere.

  “Elizabeth, open your eyes, baby. Open your eyes. You’re dreaming,” she coos softly. I drop my hands to my side and do as she says.

  Still straining against phantom bondage, I struggle to see her above me. My eyes adjust to the moonlight filtering in through the top of my closed curtains after a couple of seconds. My mother sits on my bed, rubbing my hand with feather-soft touches. My father peers down over her. “Is she okay?” My mother doesn’t respond as she observes me closely.

  He switches on the bedside lamp. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks me directly.

  “Yes.” I strain to repress the memory of the dream that’s on a loop in my subconscious. “I had a nightmare. It seemed… so real.” I run my hands through my tangled hair and scan my hands. There’s no signs of the restraint’s bites into my skin… no scars or blood. I exhale. “I'm okay. You can go back to sleep.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you for a while?” Mom asks.

  “No. I'm okay, I promise.” She hesitates for a second more, like I might change my mind.

  They both amble over to the door to leave.

  “Mama, Pops.” They pause with Dad’s hand on the knob. “I love you both.” Without really understanding what love is, I know I love them. They’ve always been there when I needed them and I know they always will. Maybe that is all that love is—ultimate trust in another human being.

  They smile in unison. Mom responds. “We know. Even when you don’t say it.”

  “We love you, too, Lizzie,” my dad responds. They turn the light off and close the door behind them.

  I sit up in bed and switch on the bedside lamp. Because of a student holiday, I don’t have to go to school for a few days. Good thing, because it’s four o'clock in the morning and I’m not going back to sleep.

  I flop back on my pillow. I wish I could talk to Brian right now, except I know he’ll want to talk about Remah, and that’s the last thing I want to think about. I close my eyes to develop a worthy mental image of him to obsess over. His sculpted mouth, chiseled chin, and eyes that swallow me whole are a refuge. I allow my mind to play back all the tender moments we’ve shared.

 
; I don’t remember falling back to sleep. Morning beckons with the sun softly touching my cheeks, imploring me to open my eyes. I sigh and stretch my arms wide above my head. I run my fingers across the velvety fabric of my headboard, but remain in bed basking in the sun’s glow. My reluctance at starting the day has everything to do with the revelations I’ll receive about Remah.

  I sit straight up. My curtains were closed the night before. I remember them being shut after my nightmare.

  Chapter 13

  It takes a few seconds to adjust to the light. Sitting in opposite corners of the room, two figures squat to the floor. I rub my eyes vigorously and squint in both directions—not sure which way to look first.

  Brian and Ian release loud laughs at my alarmed expression.

  “Why are you guys here?” I question.

  Ian’s the closest to me. He saunters over and sits on the edge of my bed. “It’s eleven-thirty. We have to finish where we left off. Don’t worry, we just got here. Your mother had to go run an errand. She said she’d be right back.”

  “And you just invited yourself into my room?” I say.

  “We didn’t think you’d mind. We have to finish this today,” Ian says.

  I gaze over at Brian. He’s huddled in the corner with a scowl, as if he’d rather be anywhere else. He stares at Ian, with bitterness clouding his features. He notices me looking at him and he straightens.

  I direct an immense beam at him that hurts my cheeks until he smiles back. It’s not my smile, but it’ll do. “Um, excuse me, I have to take care of morning necessities.”

  “Oh, right,” Ian says. He rises from the bed and sits back in the same corner he had been in when I woke up. Good thing I slept with shorts and a tank, or this might be a little embarrassing—at least for them. I lift myself from the bed and stretch wide. Ian follows my movements. I roll my eyes and turn away from his intrusive gazing.