Parallel Destiny

by Simon Rose

  “So how was California, Jeff?” asked Jason, as he finished the last of his fries. “You never told us about it.”

  “There’s not much to tell, really,” Jeff replied, with a shrug. “It was okay, as family reunions go. We were only there for six days and I didn’t do much, just hung out with my cousins most of the time. Dad played golf a lot and my mom was always shopping.”

  “Bet it was good for your grandma though,” said Max.

  “Yeah,” Jeff replied. “She kind of needed the break after losing my granddad. I think it made her feel a bit better, seeing some familiar faces and everything. How’s your grandma anyway?”

  “Yeah,” Jason added. “Wasn’t she in hospital the other day?”

  “It was just a routine operation,” Max replied. “Nothing too serious. I’ll be going to see her sometime this weekend, but it won’t be long before she’s back home.”

  As Max took a sip from his drink he noticed a man in his mid-twenties, his long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, approaching their table before veering off toward one of the food counters. Max thought that the man looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place him. He then spotted a tall, slim young woman with short black hair on the far side of the food court as she carried her tray to a table. Max had the odd feeling that he’d seen her somewhere before too when a terrifying series of images flashed across his mind. The woman with the short hair was standing in the middle of the aisle on the main floor of the mall. A security guard was yelling as he approached her. Max was shocked as the woman furrowed her brow as if in deep concentration and blood poured out of the guard’s eyes, nose, and mouth before he collapsed in convulsions on the tiled floor.

  “You okay, Max?” said Jeff.

  “What?” said Max, not quite sure where he was for a second.

  He quickly scanned the food court. The woman had taken a seat at a table with some friends while the man with the ponytail was standing at one of the counters, waiting to be served.

  “You kind of zoned out there for a minute,” said Jason.

  “Yeah, you were totally gone, man,” Jeff added.

  “Sorry, I’m fine, really,” Max replied, finishing his drink. “Are we heading home?”

  “Yeah, we’d better go,” said Jeff, glancing at the time on his phone. “We should be able to catch the bus if we hurry.”

  It was now close to three in the afternoon and the mall was getting busier. Max and his friends chatted as they walked until Jason received a call on his phone.

  “Hang on,” he said, as he stopped. “It’s my mom. I need to take this.”

  “Is she checking up on you?” said Jeff, with a chuckle.

  Jason glared at him.

  “She probably wants me to babysit Kaitlyn later. I might not be able to come over tonight.”

  Jason’s sister was almost seven and during the previous few months his parents had often been late getting home from work. As a result, Jason had recently had to cancel some gaming nights because he was babysitting. Jason sighed as he took the call and stepped away from his friends so that he could talk to his mother in private. Jeff shrugged and sat down on one of the nearby wooden benches situated in the middle of the aisle to check his own phone for any messages. Max went to join Jeff on the bench but as soon as Max sat down, his surroundings in the mall were abruptly transformed.

  IN THE DISTANCE, Max saw a man with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair swept back from his face wearing a plain white tee shirt and blue jeans. The man was walking down the centre of the aisle as people around him recoiled in fear. As the man drew closer, Max could see a deep scar along the man’s right cheek and neck. In front of him, the mall’s security guards were backing away. The man with the scar began walking faster. Above him the lights exploded one by one, the shattered glass completely missing him as it fell to the floor.

  “No!” the man roared.

  He came to a stop and furrowed his brow. To Max’s horror, the security guards suddenly shook uncontrollably before collapsing to the floor in pools of blood. A police officer then appeared with his weapon drawn.

  “Hold it, right there!” the officer shouted, standing his ground in the centre of the aisle.

  He aimed his gun as his colleagues joined him. The man with the scar smiled as he raised his hands as if to surrender. The police officers’ weapons were then all pulled from their hands and flew through the air toward the man with the scar, the guns falling harmlessly at his feet.

  “I DON’T THINK he’s listening, Jeff.”

  “What?” said Max, quickly scanning his surroundings.

  “Wow,” said Jason. “You’re really not focused today, are you?”

  “Yeah, I think I’m just tired. I’m fine,” Max replied, although he really wasn’t. “I didn’t sleep that well last night.”

  “Well, you looked like you were asleep just now,” said Jeff, smiling.

  “Come on,” Jason added. “Or we’ll miss the bus.”

  MAX DID HIS best to put the strange visions out of his mind, but they had been very disturbing. He was pretty sure that he’d never seen the man and the woman in the food court before, although Max acknowledged that he might once have seen either of them in passing somewhere and just randomly recalled their faces. Or maybe they just looked similar to someone else, which happened to everyone sometimes. Yet that didn’t explain the scene with the woman and the security guard. And what about the other incident he’d imagined, with the scarred man and the police officers? That had seemed very bizarre too. Max had never been to that mall before and was pretty sure that he’d have remembered if he’d witnessed something like that. Could it be a scene from a movie or part of a game that he’d forgotten? It just didn’t make any sense.

  He and his friends hurried past the mall escalators on their way to the main exit that led to the bus stops. Max had yet another odd sensation as they approached the coffee shop, once again experiencing a feeling that he’d been there before, but quickly dismissed it since chain locations of coffee shops often had the same layout, decor, fixtures, and signage.

  “Hey,” said Jason, as they approached the exit. “There’s the bus.”

  They all hurried outside and climbed onto the bus to go home, chatting about the new game that they were all looking forward to playing for the first time that evening.

  Chapter Three

  Jane Doe

  ONCE THEY WERE inside the hospital, Hammond and Bethany were quickly escorted to the semi-private room where Douglas Eastwood, the hospital’s chief of staff, was waiting for them. Eastwood was in his late fifties, tall and willowy with receding silver-grey hair. His tired and careworn expression was the result of the many years he’d worked in his role at the hospital. He peered over the rim of his glasses and nodded to Hammond and Bethany in greeting as they entered the room.

  The girl was sleeping in the bed, from where a tangled collection of cables led to several small machines. The pattern of her shallow breathing was displayed on one of the nearby screens. A needle was taped to the back of her right hand and connected by a thin tube to the saline drip suspended on the steel pole beside the bed. The girl appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen, with long, thick black hair that had a red streak at the front.

  “How’s she doing?” asked Bethany, carefully studying the girl’s face.

  “Good,” said Eastwood. “She was in pretty bad shape when she first came in but she’s recovered well.”

  “So, what’s her story?” Hammond asked.

  “A guy out with his dog found her in Castlegate Park,” Eastwood replied. “We have no idea how she got there, but we think she’d been in the woods for several days.”

  “The guy with the dog called the police?” asked Bethany.

  “Yes,” said Eastwood. “They got the paramedics over there reasonably quickly and then they brought her in.”

  “No ID?” Hammond asked.

  Eastwood shook his head.

  “Nothing, just some loose change in one
of her pockets. She has a small angel tattoo on her arm, but the police ran some checks for prints and everything and she really is a Jane Doe, a complete mystery. And according to her, she doesn’t even belong here.”

  Hammond looked over at the young girl lying peacefully in the bed as the monitors faithfully kept track of her vital signs. For a fleeting second, he thought that she looked familiar, but then the feeling was gone. Hammond quickly dismissed it as he’d had many similar experiences and déjà vu sensations since he’d been visiting other universes. He hoped that Bethany wasn’t right about the danger of the multiple memories eventually overwhelming him.

  “And you didn’t just think that she was crazy?” he said.

  “Yes,” Eastwood replied. “To be honest, that was my first impression. She was unconscious when the old guy found her but she woke up once they got her in the ambulance. The police officers told me that she ranted about everything being wrong and that she wasn’t supposed to be here, that the timeline wasn’t right. She then became violent, lashing out at the paramedics, and they had to sedate her.”

  “And she said the same thing when she woke up here?” said Bethany. “Once she was here in the room?”

  “Yes,” Eastwood replied. “She said it was all wrong and that this was impossible and that Kane was gone or something like that. The nurses restrained her and she had to be sedated again. What she said didn’t make a lot of sense but it also didn’t seem like some of the typical outbursts that we sometimes see here in these kinds of cases. She could easily have multiple personality disorder like some of the others we’ve seen, but I think there’s something else there. Like we found with Kendall.”

  “Do you have her test results?” asked Hammond.

  “Yes, they’re right here,” Eastwood replied.

  He handed Hammond a binder, which he quickly opened before scanning the data on the opening pages with Bethany.

  “You were right, Suzanne,” he said. “These really are off the scale. These brainwave patterns are far more impressive than Kendall’s. She could be the one we’ve been waiting for.”

  “Can we wake her?” said Bethany.

  Eastwood shook his head.

  “Better not. She was quite violent earlier. We should let her rest.”

  “We should get her over to the clinic as soon as possible,” Hammond added. “Make the usual arrangements.”

  Eastwood hesitated and nervously adjusted his glasses.

  “Dr. Hammond, I . . .”

  “What’s the problem?” said Hammond.

  Eastwood cleared his throat.

  “There have been too many of these recently. Nurse Callas became suspicious when Kendall was sent to you and she had to be dealt with. Those two women that I arranged to go to your clinic last year could soon be under investigation by the hospital authorities too. It might only be a matter time before they link Callas’ death to all this as well.”

  “Don’t go soft on me now, Eastwood,” said Hammond, sternly. “I’ve made you a very wealthy man. Besides, she’s just a Jane Doe, correct?”

  “Yes,” Eastwood agreed, “but there’s a police report about her being found and paperwork was done when she was admitted here. She can’t simply be made to disappear.”

  “You’ll work it out, Eastwood,” said Hammond, smiling. “You always do. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning. You should move her to one of those private rooms in the hospital’s quiet area to avoid any awkward questions from the staff. And be careful about the nurses that you assign this time, okay?”

  “Of course,” replied Eastwood, but he looked far from comfortable.

  “Let her rest tonight,” Hammond continued. “I’ll expect her at the clinic tomorrow, so sort out that death certificate as soon as you can. Have it recommend immediate cremation due to some deadly infection like we’ve done a few times before or whatever you think’s best. Is that clear?”

  Eastwood gulped and simply nodded before leaving the room.

  “THESE RESULTS CERTAINLY are impressive,” said Bethany.

  She sat down in the chair beside the bed and began studying the papers in the binder again.

  “Yes,” Hammond agreed. “I’m pretty sure that we may have a good one here. She’s literally come from nowhere. There’s no record of her at all.”

  “Well, there’s only been one search conducted,” Bethany reminded him. “If the police dig a little deeper they might still find something. It’s an open investigation since she’s only just been found.”

  “Perhaps,” Hammond mused, as he began pacing the room. “But I don’t think so. Her sudden appearance from nowhere and these results from her brain wave patterns tell me that she’s like Kendall, only far superior. As we’ve discovered, not all multiple personality patients are suitable for the clinic and some are just insane. However, some have the ability to shift between parallel worlds and some seem crazy simply because they can’t handle the traveling between multiple realities. As a result, they become incredibly confused, but the ability really does seem to exist, and this girl may be the key.”

  “Yes, she does seem promising, doesn’t she?” said Bethany.

  “Indeed,” Hammond replied. “The serum we’ve developed has helped me to move between the parallel universes, but these people have the natural ability to do that, although as we’ve found it does vary regarding how well that they can control it. You remember those two women last year, the ones Eastwood mentioned just now?”

  “Yes,” said Bethany, as she continued to study the pages of the test results. “Most unfortunate. They seemed so promising too. I’d grown quite attached to both of them and almost felt sorry when I killed them.”

  She looked up at Hammond and smiled.

  “Kendall didn’t seem to be able to control the process,” Hammond continued. “He seemed to move at random but was aware of his surroundings each time and how each reality he experienced was different. Of course, they’re all real, but the key for those with the ability seems to be how they decide which universe they want to consider to be the right one, the place where they can be safe or feel comfortable or have some degree of sanity.”

  “But Kendall still confirmed your theory about your family.”

  “Yes, he could have been crazy but the fact that he was very specific about knowing me, knowing that I had a wife and family, their approximate ages if they’d lived, even their names, told me that we were on to something with him.”

  “But now he’s dead. What if she goes the same way?”

  Hammond shrugged.

  “It’s entirely likely, but I don’t really care. We’ll have to be careful with her at first since we don’t know when someone like her might come along again, but ultimately, she’ll be dead. I’ll need all her brain fluid to make this work, but sacrifices have always had to be made.”

  “And of course,” Bethany added, “no one will miss her, even if she really is a Jane Doe.”

  Hammond nodded.

  “Even if she isn’t and has a family, she’ll be officially dead by tomorrow morning. We’ll then be able to work on her in peace for as long as is necessary.”

  “Do you think she has some kind of psychic ability too?” asked Bethany. “Some of the patterns are similar to ones I’ve seen before in the patients that had those kinds of powers.”

  “Yes, I do, although that’s impossible to say for sure until we get her to the clinic,” Hammond replied. “As you know, I became very interested in that obscure theory from the Eastern Bloc in the eighties. Dr. Kovac later became a renowned neurologist, but he used to look into this kind of thing. He felt that the visions and other phenomena that happened at the point of death and during out of body experiences could be the result of people with particular abilities shifting between all their alternate lives as they reached the end of their existence, but of course there was no way to prove it. It’s also not the sort of thing that’s recognized or respected in the scientific community, as well you know.”

  “
Yes,” said Bethany, nodding. “You’ve certainly suffered from the unfair criticism from your colleagues.”

  “Well, to be honest, it was a wild theory, but they have no idea that I’ve made it work,” Hammond replied, smiling. “But they will.”

  He’d also soon be able to take his revenge on all of them, anyone that ever stood in his way.

  “We need to focus on you finding your family first.”

  Hammond smiled again.

  “Of course, Suzanne, of course.”

  But those people weren’t getting away with it either. He had the power to enter his own body in any parallel universe and he’d be able to ruin all their careers and their precious reputations before he left for good. And this girl was the key. He was certain of it.

  “We should get going,” said Bethany, as she stood up and closed the binder. “The nurses will soon be coming in to move the girl to the private area. We don’t want any of them asking too many questions.”

  “No, we can’t really eliminate any more of them, at least not right now,” Hammond said with a grin. “Let’s get back to the clinic.”

  They both cast a brief glance at the girl lying peacefully in the bed and left the room.

  Chapter Four

  Alternative Images

  MAX AND HIS friends had decided to try out the new game for a few hours at Jeff’s house since Jason had to babysit his sister later that evening. He and Max left Jeff’s at the same time, although Max intended to head back to Jeff’s house later once he’d had dinner. It was around 6.30 when Max got home. As he approached the front door, his mother’s car was parked outside but the truck was missing and Max assumed that his dad was working late again. He worked as a contractor and was busy on a number of different building projects around the city. He also sometimes worked out of town for extended periods.

  Max opened the door and stepped inside. Despite having had a late lunch at the mall, he was still hungry and decided to make a couple of slices of toast. He went into the kitchen, where, as usual, his dad’s coffee cup from that morning had been left on the counter beside the kettle. The laptop belonging to his mother, Marina, along with a few scattered papers and file folders, was on the kitchen table. She was a teacher and worked with special needs children. She loved her work, and Max knew that her experiences as a child had been a key factor in her eventual choice of career. A couple of years earlier, his mother had told him about some medical issues that she’d had when she’d turned twelve. She’d had visions and strange experiences and had been treated by a doctor for a while but had grown out of it. Her grandmother always told the young Marina that she was psychic, but Max’s mother preferred to think that she was just intuitive or perhaps very spiritual. She’d wanted to tell Max about her issues when she was younger in case he ever experienced anything similar as he grew up. So far, Max hadn’t had anything untoward happen and had been regularly tested during routine doctor’s appointments, but he was, thankfully, very healthy. His strange visions at the mall had caused Max some concern, although he was reluctant to talk to his parents about it, despite the fact that he knew that they’d always be very understanding.