Clearly frustrated, Helen twitched and threw the remaining half of her banana into the garbage. “It’s a bad day when you’re reminded that you don’t live in a free country and you discover you no longer like bananas.”
I smirked at her last comment. But it had been a long day, so I headed down the hall to shower.
Helen followed and said something that instantly shook me to the core. “Ryan, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Can we go into the bedroom?”
That was it. She knew about all the lies. She probably found the letter, and she probably figured out that I had been to jail. She was probably going to break up with me, and I was going to have to find a new place and start over again. It served me right for being a jackass and sneaking around behind her back, but that didn’t make it any easier for me.
I kept my emotions in check. “Okay.”
We arrived in the room and sat on opposite sides of the bed, facing one another. She grabbed my hand and looked me in the eye.
“So, I’ve put this off for a while because I really wasn’t sure how I felt about it all.” She gave an excruciatingly long pause.
It took everything I had to hide the mental jumping jacks I was doing in my head, anticipating what she would say.
She puckered her lips in uncertainty and resumed. “Remember the night I was taken by the Padre?”
As awful as that night had been, the biggest load had just been lifted off my chest. We had barely spoken of that night in the couple of months since it happened. I had apologized for getting her mixed up in everything, and she’d said not to worry about it. If she was just saying that to avoid the topic, she hadn’t made it obvious. I also hadn’t pried very much because I was just trying to move on.
I still felt obligated to act contrite. “Yes, I’m really sorry that happened.”
“I know.” She nodded. “But remember that I got free and escaped from the auto-guard and Allen?”
Thinking back, I did recall that she said she had blacked out. “Yeah. You came to standing over them. Do you remember what happened?”
“No, but I’ve thought about it every night since because it was the strangest thing. I kept trying to rationalize it away as some random experience, and I was getting close to moving past it when I had a dream last night.”
My eyebrow went up. “A dream?”
Her mouth twitched. “Yes, but not a normal dream. It reminded me of the dreams that you had had as Charlie.”
Terrified, I needed to know more. “What about it made it seem like one of those dreams? What happened?”
Her eyes got wide, her face got pale, and she took a deep breath. “It’s so vivid in my mind, everything leading up to the dream. I laid down and stretched out in bed last night. My eyes fluttered and then closed. I was in utter peace. Quiet. Relaxation. I remember exhaling out the day and inhaling rest. Then, that floating feeling overcame me—the one that sets in right before sleep hits. Warmth washed over me, and tiny lights flickered underneath my eyelids. A roulette of my memories spun about, and my mind settled on one from the work day at NTE. Then, it flipped to a memory from longer ago, something random from college. Then, things became abstract and hazy. I felt like I had had a few too many drinks or something. Finally, my legs tingled like before the migration, and I was horrified to the point where I forced my eyes open.”
It was a dreadful nightmare she’d described, and I must have been so out of it that I didn’t remember her waking up in bed. “I’m sorry, Helen. I was really tired last night, and I didn’t realize you had a—”
She put her hand up to stop me. “No, that’s the thing. When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in our bed.”
Chills ran down my spine. I was almost too scared to ask but also couldn’t stop myself. “What?! Where were you?”
She swallowed hard. “I must have been on some floor, on my side. I was looking at the wall of a strange, dark building. I had to blink a lot to focus on what I was seeing. There was a…crimson strip, and it was…running down the wall. My stomach dropped, and I rolled onto my back to look away. The problem was, there were more spatters of red on the ceiling. One was about to drip right on my face.”
She flinched and let loose a nauseous cough. “I sat up in an instant and my eyes began to ache. I lifted my hands up to rub my face when I realized that they were also covered in blood. Then, the smell in the room got to me, thick and irony, and I started to gag. I felt compelled to look around to figure out where the hell I was, but my eyes lagged as I turned my head. My vision finally caught up, but I’d immediately wished it hadn’t. There were”—she grimaced and gulped—“human remains all around me.”
I had to stop her there. “It must have just been some kind of nightmare. An appalling nightmare, but that had to be it.”
“It felt so real, and it just kept going. Like your dreams.”
I shook my head in disbelief but wanted to offer her the support that I never had. “Well, what happened next?”
“I instantly knew I couldn’t stay in this place, so I stood up. It must have been some kind of hotel room or something. I was a little woozy, but I could clearly hear a moan coming from what had to be a different room. Still, I didn’t waste any time trying to figure out what it was. I hobbled in the dark toward the door. It was in bad shape, like someone had kicked it in. I flung it open and spilled out into what appeared to be a hallway. It seemed to go on forever. Maybe forty meters ahead on the left was an opening in the wall with light coming from it. I tried to run but my head hurt badly, so I could only manage a quick gallop. It took me longer than I would have imagined, but once I came to the lighted area, I looked in with a squint.
“The phrase ‘Simon says’ was on the wall in red. That was it. My eyes looked forward again, and about thirty meters ahead of me, I saw a door with a flickering exit sign above it. I tried to focus all my energy to run faster, but it seemed like I wasn’t getting anywhere. Like I was sprinting in place.” She paused to catch her breath.
“It’s okay.” I held her fidgeting hands. “Take your time.”
She sighed. “It gets worse. As I struggled to get to the door, I heard a noise. And, Ryan, when I say that this noise will haunt me for the rest of my life, I’m not joking. It was coming from behind, something heavy and metal being dragged on the floor or scraped against the wall. It was getting louder. I panicked and did everything I could to get to the exit. Finally, after what seemed like five minutes, I was there. I reached for the handle, but my wet, red hand just slipped off.
“The noise was just getting louder. I wiped my hands on my pants and darted a look over my shoulder, but it was too dark to see. I tried the handle again, but now it was covered in blood from my first attempt. I wiped it clean with my shirt and grabbed the handle one more time. I pulled as hard as I could, and in my stunned state, it was difficult to open. Meanwhile, the sound from behind was baring down on me. The door finally opened, and there was pitch black in front of me. But it seemed much safer than staying put. I wanted to take my first step forward, but something inside was stopping me. Instead, against my own will, I turned completely around, and in the darkness, I heard an intermittent whooshing sound. I could see a light flicker every other half second, and it was getting bigger. I immediately knew exactly what it was.” She stopped and turned her head.
Anxious as hell, I pried. “What was it, Helen?”
She took another deep breath. “A machete was flying right at my face. I leaned back just in time for it to whiz past me, but as I fell back, my life flashed before my eyes.”
“Wow.” I swallowed hard and shook my head. “I’m sorry, Helen.”
She delayed for the longest second. “Strangest of all, I don’t know whose it was, but…it wasn’t my life that flashed. It felt like mine…but it wasn’t.”
I was at a loss for many reasons. As odd as it was, part of me
was happy that she could relate to what I had gone through. But while Helen’s dream was definitely like the Charlie dreams, it seemed exponentially worse. The implications made me think that she too was in someone else’s body, and that person had experienced something terrible in their life. Regardless, it seemed like something so crazy that even I couldn’t deal with it, and I wanted to know more before I suggested a plan of action.
“You haven’t talked to anyone else about this?”
She frowned. “No, but I was thinking of seeing my counselor at ADG.”
“No.” I shook my head. “They’re not going to listen. Let me try to call Tony. Is that okay?”
She nodded.
I pulled out my phone and tapped his number. After a few moments, a holo of Tony appeared. “Hi, you’ve reached Tony’s holo-mail. My holo-box is currently full, but you can still send me a message.”
“Damn!” I scrambled to think of something else. “Maybe I can schedule you a session with Dr. Dean?”
She sighed. “No. It’s okay. I think you’re right that Tony is probably our best bet.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just so sorry that I didn’t believe you sooner about Charlie. If I didn’t have someone like you, I might literally go crazy over this.”
I leaned in and hugged her. “One way or another, we’ll get through this.”
“Thanks, Ryan. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She got ready for bed, and I went to take a shower. I pulled back the curtain to get in, and on the wall were the words “Simon Says.”
I stumbled back, alarmed, then gathered myself and focused on the words. They were made from Helen’s hair. When she washed it, some strands would naturally come out. Being considerate of the drain, she’d put it on the wall, so she could throw it out later. Sometimes she’d forget about it. In this case, she’d fashioned it into the words from her dream. Things were worse than I thought. I’d have to keep trying Tony.
I finished my shower and found Helen still wide awake in bed for fear of having another dream. We made small talk for about an hour until neither of us could keep our eyes open.
When I woke up in the morning, Helen was already dressed and doing her hair in the mirror across the room. I hoped she had gotten some rest.
“Did you have another dream?” I asked in bed, with my hands behind my head.
She sighed. “No, thankfully.”
“Phew. Well, just try to focus on work. Nothing good will come from dwelling on the dream.”
She nodded and came over. “That sounds good.” She leaned down, and we kissed.
She pulled away. “You going to be late to the shop again today?”
“Jack has us starting a little late. Says we’re preparing for a big project. So, I might have to put in a few hours in the evenings.”
“Okay. You’ll remember to call if you’re going to be really late, right?”
I smiled and nodded.
“You better.” She kissed my forehead and walked toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”
“See ya.”
I listened for her to leave the apartment and then got dressed and ate a bowl of barley meal.
Jack never scheduled us for late starts. Instead, I called in sick. After speaking with Jim over a week ago, I had spent a small fortune on an old-style paper printer. It took days to get it to sync with my Netphone, but once it did, I crafted a letter that would get the attention of anyone who knew Charlie but seem benign to anyone else. A week ago, I sent it to the PO Box mentioned in Sarah’s letter. After a few days, I sent another to be sure. I was worried that the box had been discontinued like Jim had mentioned. It might have been a quick search on the Net to find out, but since my run in with the Padre’s goons at the NTE café, I never searched anything out of the ordinary.
Without any other options, I figured my best bet would be to try to hunt the box down in the city. There were a couple of physical mail companies I knew about. Maybe they would be able to tell me the history of the PO Box and that would give me a clue on where to look next.
I headed out the door and jumped on the next bullet across the city. When it got to my stop, I hopped out onto the sidewalk amongst a sea of walkers and peered up at a bright sign.
MailShare – For all your physical mail needs
Optimism filled my thoughts, and I navigated around the people to enter the building. Nothing was obvious by looking around, and I got in line with five people ahead of me, each one taking what seemed like ten minutes to complete their transactions. After an eternity, I finally got to the front of the line.
The associate behind the desk greeted me. “Hello. How may I help you?”
“Do you have PO Boxes here?”
He scowled. “What boxes?”
Anticipating that he would be clueless, I explained. “They were used before NPS folded. They were private mailboxes people could purchase to receive mail at a place like this instead of their building or home.”
He shrugged and turned. “Let me get my manager.”
He left, and soon an older woman with gray hair traipsed out of the back room with the standard red and gray uniform. With her eyebrow raised, she repeated my request in a stern voice. “Sir, you’re wondering about PO Boxes?”
“That’s correct. Do you have any here?”
She didn’t respond for a few moments, then shook her head. “We haven’t had them in almost five years. We sold all the ones we had to Ship-Away on the east side of the city.” She creased her eyes. “What makes you ask about them?”
I shrugged to feign ignorance. “I recently saw a documentary on the old mail system, and I figured I’d ask around. I like history.”
She smiled gingerly. “Well, in that case. Good luck finding what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you!”
As strange as the woman was, I left satisfied because I still had a trail to follow. Hopping onto the next bullet, I made my way to the other side of the city. I asked the bus operator if she knew anything about Ship-Away, and she just stared at me like I was crazy. I had heard the East side wasn’t the safest part of town, but I didn’t really know what that meant. Real people lived there with real needs, and I wasn’t really looking for trouble anyway. Regardless, I’d been itching for another fight since I had never gotten to put the finishing touches on those PMU punks.
Suddenly, the driver stopped the bus on a random corner a few blocks from the actual stop. I got the hint and jumped off the bus. She pulled off in an instant.
What’s the worst that could happen?
I shook the question out of my head and walked through the neighborhood for nearly an hour. I finally started to ask people on the street if they knew where the place was, and most gave me the stink eye. I replied kindly by dipping my head and walking the other way.
Finally, I found an older man in a track suit walking down the street. “Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Ship-Away?”
He smiled and pointed. “Take Fourth Street two blocks down and make a right on Harrison. Take that down five more blocks and make a left on Ninth, then it’ll be on your left.”
I mumbled his directions back to him in an attempt to commit them to memory, and he interrupted me by leaning in. “Now, son, you probably have your own reasons, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t ask.”
I scowled. “Ask what?”
“Why would a nice-looking young man like yourself get himself mixed up with a place like Ship-Away?”
I shook my head. “What’s wrong with it?”
He got a touch of anger in his eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy. I’m trying to help you.”
I tried to be nice to diffuse the situation. “I’m sorry, sir. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just found an old letter from my grandma, and it mentioned a PO Box. So, I’ve tracked it down
to Ship-Away, and I wanted to see if there was any mail in it.”
His expression broke. “So, you really don’t know?”
I shook my head.
He sighed and got even closer. “Son, Ship-Away is used almost exclusively for sending and receiving illegal substances and other…unmentionable things. If I were you, I’d let granny’s letter be the end of it. No use in getting yourself hurt digging up the past. Some things are better left gone.”
While I was surprised, I was happy he’d shared it with me. “Well, I appreciate your concern, but there’s a lot riding on me finding that PO Box. I’ll be careful, and if needed, I can take care of myself.”
The man frowned. “No. No. No. Son, you’re not going to like what you find even if the PO Box is there. I can promise you that. Best turn around and go home before you experience things you can’t un-experience. Now, I’ve said more than I wanted to.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks.”
A friendly grin stretched across his face again as he walked away. “No worries, son. Good luck in whatever you decide.”
On edge, I followed the directions he’d given me and ended up in front of a small, dilapidated building. Only the “I” and the “W” in the sign were lit while the “Y” was flickering. The roof seemed old, and judging by the color, it’d suffered quite a bit of water damage. The windows had spider cracks on the outside and rusty security caging behind them on the inside. There was also a big, old-fashioned neon sign that sporadically blinked “Open.” The main door was made of industrial-strength steel, and it had several large dents in it.
I looked around at the dead street, and the wind howled. Then, I turned back to the building and walked inside. My sense of smell was instantly attacked by mildew. The dim lighting made it difficult to see across the space, but my eyes swiftly adjusted to see a desk. It was walled off by what appeared to be bulletproof glass. The glass had a lot of tiny gashes in it. To my left, there were rows of key slots, and I was hopeful that one of those would be the one I wanted. I walked over and read the faint numbers.
Between Two Minds: Revelation Page 12
