by Lucy Adler
She rubbed her eyes and sniffed again.
“If I can help her, I need to try. We can’t just stop now because we think she’s too far gone.”
Helena stared at Daria. It was one of those skeptical but surrendered looks, when you know the other person is right but you’d rather they weren’t. Then she glanced at Brett who was smiling back at her with a knowing look.
“Alright,” she finally said. “But I’m going to be there for it.”
23
Year: 50
(10 years ago)
THERESA & THE SLEEPER
“Hey, Jim?”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“Can you explain this chart to me?”
A woman in a long white jacket turned her tablet so that a man in a similar coat could read the screen.
“What’s the problem?” he asked with a confused look.
“Well, don’t you think it’s kind of odd? She’s getting regular weekly visits - sometimes more than once a week - from a Guild member. And we’ve had her here for eleven weeks so far. That’s more than enough time. She should have been processed out by now.”
“You mean...” the man replied, trailing off as he tipped his head back, closing his eyes and making a silly, gagging face.
The woman shook her head and frowned.
“Why do you joke about it?” she asked.
“Relax, Theresa,” he laughed. “I know it’s a serious business. But at the same time, these people are dangers to society. You don’t have any problem with capital punishment for murderers, do you?”
“It’s hardly the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not,” Theresa replied firmly. “These people aren’t criminals. They’re sick, plain and simple. All we’re doing is releasing them from a life of pain and suffering. Who would want to go on living with such severe hallucinations and nightmares? It’s sad, but it isn’t evil. And besides, they’re also a terrible burden to society. It’s just a matter of being merciful to them, and the rest of us.”
“But those hallucinations and nightmares have produced some pretty ‘evil’ things in the past, haven’t they?” Jim replied. He had a smug look, like he was cross-examining her and knew he’d made his point.
“Maybe.” Theresa looked down at her tablet now, quietly rereading the chart she had shared with him.
“You of all people know I’m right.”
She didn’t reply.
“If it weren’t for people like that,” he said, nodding at the tablet, “you might still have a father.”
“Yeah, I got it the first time, honey,” she snapped at him.
“Ok, ok,” he conceded, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I gotta get back to work. Sorry.”
____________________________
Two days passed.
“Oh, Dr. Kingston! What brings you by this morning?”
“Hey, Gregg. How are you today?”
“I’m fine. Same old, ya know!”
“I was wondering if I could look in on a patient for a few minutes?” Theresa asked, biting her lower lip as though she were embarrassed to ask.
“No problem, of course,” the burly security guard replied. He was seated at a desk with several monitors on the wall in front of him. There was a pegboard on another wall with dozens and dozens of keys dangling from it, as well as wristbands for the powered locks.
Gregg stood up and rolled another chair over beside him at the desk.
“Have a seat and we can bring up whatever room you like.”
“904, please,” she said as she sat down.
“Sorry if I’m out of line here, but why don’t you just pop in yourself?” the guard asked hesitantly. “You have access to every room in this place!” he laughed.
“Well, there’s a new doctor around the hospital, and he’ll be visiting Room 904 sometime around now. This may sound silly, but I’d kind of like to observe his bedside manner. We’ve had some complaints about him being rather rough with a few patients. Even though this is their final days, we still like to treat them with dignity, as you can imagine.”
“Oh, of course, of course! No trouble at all. Glad to help!”
Gregg cycled through several images on the screens.
“Ah, here we are,” he finally said. “Looks like we’re just in time, too!”
A woman was lying on a hospital bed as a man approached from the doorway. He walked slowly, fiddling with an object in his hands as he drew near to her.
Theresa leaned forward, squinting as she tried to make out what he was holding.
Then the object suddenly lit up, a row of blue lights flashing across the top edge.
“Some new-fangled medical device, eh?” Gregg commented.
“Yes, that’s right,” Theresa said with a smile, despite having no idea herself.
Just then, a voice came over a walkie-talkie that was sitting on the end of the desk. It was asking Gregg to come to Floor 6 to help with an unruly patient.
“I gotta run, Dr. Kingston. You fine here alone?”
“No problem. Thanks for your help.”
When he was gone, Theresa got even closer to the screen, trying to figure out exactly what the visitor was planning to do.
She watched as the man stood beside the bed and touched the woman’s arm. Then he reached up and brushed a few hairs from her forehead with his fingers. He stared at her for what felt like a few minutes before he eventually tipped her body on its side and pressed the glowing device against the back of her head. It took another minute or two, then he was finished.
But before he left the room, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
Theresa waited a little while after he was gone. Then she got up quickly and hurried down the hall to the lift.
____________________________
The door to Room 904 opened slowly and Theresa poked her head in, making sure she was alone. Then she entered, shutting and locking it behind her.
The patient was fully sedated. Her eyes were closed, her hands lying still at her sides. An IV ran from one of her arms up to a rack where it connected with three bags of various fluids, all of which blended into a cocktail that dripped steadily into her body.
From the outside, everything looking normal.
“What did he do to you?” Theresa whispered.
She slid her hands under the woman’s shoulder and slowly rotated her body onto its left side. She flipped up the woman’s soft, silvery hair, and let it flop over her head. Then she pulled a small flashlight from her jacket pocket and inspected the base of her scalp.
There were at least six or seven visible scars. Just specks, really, but they were clearly marks that had been made by something and not natural imperfections in the skin.
Theresa ran her fingers over them.
“What has he been giving you?” she asked out loud, shaking her head as she did.
As she flipped the woman’s hair back behind her head and let her body return to its original position, Theresa suddenly felt a wave of pain wash over her own head.
It was like a migraine, only it didn’t linger. It moved from the front to the back of her head in one fluid motion, then it was gone.
“Whoa,” she said without thinking as she grabbed the bar on the edge of the bed to steady herself.
Then it happened again.
And again.
Two more waves of pain.
Theresa was worried now. She made her way carefully to the chair in the corner of the room, using the bed to keep herself upright.
She let herself drop into it, then she rubbed her head with her hands.
“Am I having a str--” she started to ask herself. But she was interrupted by another voice.
Dr. Kingston?
She looked up, then side to side. She looked at the woman lying in the bed, eyes closed.
Dr. Kingston? Can you hear me?
“Who is that?” Theresa asked.
It’s me. It’s
Lena.
Theresa shook her head quickly and then rubbed her face with her hands, as if she had just stumbled into a spiderweb and was trying to brush it off of her.
You have to help me. Please.
She could feel her heart pounding in her chest now.
She wasn’t imagining things.
This was actually happening.
“How are you doing this? How am I hearing you?”
I’m not sure, to be honest. But you are. And that’s all that matters.
Theresa stood up now and walked over to the bed again. She leaned in closer and shined her flashlight into the woman’s face, looking for any signs of movement. Then she pulled back her eyelids.
But there was no response.
“How can you not know how you’re doing this? What sort of game are you playing?”
It’s not a game, I can promise you that. And I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. You’re already starting to fade from my mind. You have to help me, please.
Theresa grabbed the woman’s hand and lifted it above the bed. Then she let go. It dropped without hesitation, hitting the woman’s hip, then landing back in the same place again.
Do you know who I am?
“Lena Smith.”
No. They’ve been lying to you. My name is Lena, but my full name is Helena Reston. I’m Charles Reston’s wife.
“Dr. Charles Reston? From The Guild?”
Yes.
“Is that who’s been visiting you?”
Yes.
“What has he been giving you? The thing, at the back of your head. Are you aware of it? Do you know what it is?”
It’s not what he’s giving me. It’s what he’s taking from me.
“Taking...?”
I can’t -- I’m losing -- Dr. Kingston, plea--
It wasn’t just the broken words. Theresa wasn’t sure how but she could feel that the voice was fading. Dropping out like a distant signal losing strength with each passing second.
Help. Please.
And that was the last she heard.
“Lena? Lena?”
She pressed on the woman’s arm, shaking her a little. But there was no response.
Then she sighed and paced a few steps either way.
“What am I supposed to do? This is... I can’t believe this.”
She rubbed her head again and let out a frustrated sigh.
Everything in her knew that this woman was exactly where she needed to be. She had said it herself to Jim just the other day. This woman - these people - were a terrible burden to society, and to themselves. Hallucinations, nightmares. A life of pain and suffering.
And Jim was right, too. It had been a number of years since the last outbreak, but they could be violent, dangerous people. More like animals than civilised citizens.
Her father had seen it firsthand. And she and her mother had experienced the consequences ever since. Ever since the day his lab had been set on fire. The sprinklers disabled. The doors barricaded so he didn’t even have a chance of escaping.
So why - why on earth - was she struggling in that moment to walk out of the room?
Was this woman influencing her somehow?
She looked down at her helpless body lying in the bed.
It didn’t feel like that. It didn’t feel like she was being forced to feel anything.
But she was feeling something. Something deep and inexplicable inside her. A stirring. A welling-up of some inarticulate emotion.
And it wasn’t stopping in her stomach or her chest.
She felt it in her mind now, too. As if her entire paradigm were shifting. As if someone had just taken the world around her and turned it on its edge.
She glanced around the room. The IV drip-drip-dripping. The monitoring equipment beeping.
The sterility of it all.
And the smell.
Then she looked down at Lena again and pursed her lips.
“What am I about to do?” she whispered to herself.
____________________________
“Good afternoon, Dr. Kingston!”
“Afternoon, Deidre. How are you today?”
“I’m well, thank you. Another patient being processed out, I see?” She pointed at the gurney being pushed by the doctor and an orderly.
“Unfortunately.”
The woman in the white robe looked saddened.
“Hopefully someday we’ll have a proper cure,” she said. “Would be nice to quit this business entirely, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it certainly would, Deidre.”
____________________________
“No, not that way. Out to the loading bay, please.”
“Oh, not the incinerator?”
“No. I’m taking this one to the med school. She’ll be a training cadaver.”
“Well, at least she’ll finally be useful, eh?” the orderly joked.
He helped Theresa slide the gurney into the back of a white van, then he slammed the doors shut.
“Want me to come along to help unload it?”
“No, that’ll be fine. There’ll be someone there to help me. Thanks again.”
When the orderly had gone back inside, Theresa quickly jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
She gripped the steering wheel tightly as she stared out at the green field, the trees, and the blue sky above.
Then she let out a huff, threw the van into gear, and drove away.
24
Month: 4 | Day: 16 | Year: 60
I’VE MISSED YOU, MY LOVE
They were able to catch Theresa before her shift ended for the night. She got them back into Brix’s room under the conditions that they didn’t wander anywhere else, and only stayed for a few minutes.
“Is that going to be long enough?” Helena asked Daria once they were alone.
“I’m not sure but I think so.”
“Well, you better get to it.”
Daria quickly circled round to the opposite side of the bed. Last time she tried this, she had knelt down beside Jake. But the hospital bed was so high, she decided to kneel on the chair next to it.
Does the kneeling even matter?
Whatever. Just focus, Dashy.
She pulled back the edge of the blankets and placed both of her hands on Brix’s left hand.
She breathed in and out a couple of times to calm her anxiety.
Then she closed her eyes.
____________________________
It had become so familiar, so routine, that Daria hardly noticed the veil anymore. That thin, black divider that marked the threshold of the dream-state. She had come to see it not as a barrier but as a protector. A faithful watchman that guarded the way to her refuge, her sanctuary.
So it was particularly strange in that moment when she felt it resisting her attempt to pass through.
Not that it prohibited her from entering. It was more a gentle, subtle nudge.
A suggestion, perhaps.
Daria shook it off. They only had a few minutes, and she didn’t have any time to waste.
She didn’t even take a moment to settle into the peace and joy of her surroundings. The lights, the stars, the comets...
She gave it all a quick glance, then dropped straight to her knees and closed her eyes.
Perhaps it was for the best. They weren’t whirling, pulsing, or dancing that evening anyway.
“Flowers... ink cloud... petals... ‘Release them’... ‘Release them’...”
Daria tried to conjure the most vivid image she could.
The dream and its message.
She sketched it in her mind, repeating it again and again with her mouth.
“‘Release them’... ‘Release...’”
She could see her friend’s hand. Pale and limp, lying on the bed in front of her.
She could see her own hands, too. And she focused all her energy on them.
“Release.”
“Release.”
A quiet whisper, l
ike a gentle breeze, passed along the edge of her mind.
‘Not... yet... ready…’
Daria thought she was losing focus.
But then another breathy whisper drifted past.
‘Not yet...’
I can’t give in to doubt. Not now, not when so much is at stake.
She squeezed her eyelids tightly, channelling every thought and feeling to a single end.
She lifted her voice with determination.
“Release her!”
No response.
She grew impatient waiting for the process to begin.
“Come on... there’s no time... we’ve got to do this now...’”
And the more impatient she grew, the more frustrated she became.
But she tried not to let it distract her.
She had a mission. Her friend needed her. There was no other option.
And she couldn’t imagine giving her up to the Dark.
Just stepping back and doing... nothing? What could come from that?
Daria breathed and focused again, straining with every fibre of her being, and pushing aside any thought or feeling that didn’t have to do with setting Brix free from this horrible oppression.
Then, as she willed herself forward, something began to happen.
Her heart started beating more quickly as she felt a power, an energy reverberate up her fingertips, through her wrist and forearm. It reached her chest and seemed to vibrate within her.
“Release... Release...”
The vibration grew stronger now.
Her chest, and now her head, both of them growing numb from the energy coursing, pulsing, pounding through them.
She winced but she didn’t give up.
