by Amy Cross
“Hello?” I say again.
This can't be right.
This can't be happening.
Stopping, I look at a wrecked patch of land, and I realize that this used to be Wally's store. The place was pretty rundown, and a lot of people considered its garish signs and displays to be a real eyesore, but now it's gone. Everything's gone, the whole town, but I know that's impossible. Turning, I look back the way I just came, and I realize that even the forest has been destroyed. It's as if, in a flash, every atom of Middlewych was blasted out of existence.
And then I see them.
Shadows on the ground, strange human-like shapes that seem to have been burned into the ground. Stepping over to take a look at one of them, I see that it's the elongated shadow of what appears to have been an old woman. I crouch down and touch the darkened patch, and I realize it's as if – in her final moment – the woman left behind her shape in the dirt as a kind of marker that she was ever here at all. Now she's gone.
Everyone's gone.
“Mom!” I yell, before scrambling to my feet and starting to run home. “Stevie!”
***
“Mom!” I yell, as I reach the end of our road and stop in front of what used to be our house. There are tears in my eyes now, but at the same time I can't believe what I'm seeing. “No...”
Our house, like every other house and building in Middlewych, is gone. There's just a rectangle of land to mark where the place used to stand. Stepping forward, I reach my hands out, convinced that somehow this is an illusion and that at any moment I'll feel the gate that marked the start of our driveway. I'm sure I'm right on that spot now, but my hands move harmlessly through the air.
Spotting a shadow on the ground, I make my way over, and then I stop as I see its shape. It's a kid, and I can just about make out the propeller hat he was wearing.
“Stevie,” I stammer, before seeing another shadow a little further off.
I hurry over, and then I stop again as I realize that this must have been Mom. She must have been standing right here when that wave of energy – of whatever it was – went crashing through the town. I don't even know what happened, it was over in a couple of seconds, but I seem to be the only living creature left in all of Middlewych, and that makes one thing abundantly clear.
It was my fault.
That energy came from me, which is the reason why I – and only I – survived.
Dropping to my knees, I touch the shadow that used to be Mom, and I realize that I killed her. I killed everyone. I don't know how it happened, but all that energy just burst out of my body and vaporized every atom in the entire town. For a few terrible seconds, I couldn't control myself, but I swear I didn't know that this would be the result. I've killed everyone in Middlewych. I've killed my entire family. What if I've killed everyone everywhere?
A moment later, as I continue to stare at the burned patch of ground, I realize I can hear a helicopter in the distance. Convinced that I have to be wrong, I look around, only to spot a dark speck coming this way across the sky. My first thought is pure relief, as I realize that there are still some other people left in the world after all, but then – as I get to my feet – I start to wonder who exactly is coming here.
I can't run, though. After all, there's nowhere to hide.
After a couple of minutes, the helicopter comes properly into view and starts hovering high above me, before slowly starting to descend. Taking a deep breath as the air gets whipped up all around me, I tell myself that I simply have to stay strong and wait to find out exactly what these people want. The helicopter's pretty large, and as it bumps against the ground I can't help noticing that there seem to be military decals and numbers all over the tail section.
Finally the engine is cut, and the blades begin to slow.
My heart is racing so hard, I feel as if it might burst out of my chest at any moment. All I can think of is that I have to find Mom and Stevie, that somehow they must have survived this disaster. Suddenly filled with hope, I ignore the people who are stepping out of the helicopter and instead I hurry back across the ground until I reach the spot where the basement used to stand. Finding a partially-collapsed stairway, I drop to my knees and start trying to pull the dirt out, although deep down I know that this is probably hopeless.
Someone's coming.
Someone's walking toward me.
I can see him out of the corner of my eye, but that doesn't matter right now. Nothing matters except -
Suddenly a huge sense of fear grips my chest and I spin around, and I see a middle-aged man dressed in what looks like a business suit. I've never seen him before in my life, but at the same time I know that I do recognize him. I tell myself that I must have seen him around town, that he's just another face from the crowd, yet something tells me that I've spent time with him. Whoever he is, he scares me.
Stopping just a few feet from me, he stares for a few seconds before turning and looking all around. He seems to be surveying the damage, and when he finally turns back to me I realize there's a faint, wry smile on his lips.
“Well,” he says with a chuckle, “I think it's fair to say that escalated quickly, huh? How are you doing, Annie? Sorry about the unexpected guests you had to contend with. Things kind of... got out of hand.”
“Who are you?” I stammer, convinced that I've been face to face with this very same man before.
His smile grows.
“Who are you?” I yell.
“There'll be time for us to get to know each other again soon enough,” he replies, “but for now, I want to get you back to the base. You'll be pleased to know that almost all your buddies were rounded up quickly after the escape, and any who were still in the area... Well, let's just say that they seem to have lingered in the confines of the town, which means there won't be much left of them now.”
He takes another step toward me.
Instinctively, I pull away, as if my body is convinced that there's more pain to come.
“We're going to try again,” the man continues, “and I assure you that this time there'll be no repeat of the operational errors that occurred on this occasion. Second time lucky, right? First, though, we need to have you thoroughly examined, because it's quite clear that your recent experiences have taken a toll. I'm very impressed by what you did here, Annie. I think we're really onto something.”
“Where are they?” I ask, stepping forward.
“I told you, the -”
“Where's my mother?” I yell. “Where's my brother?”
“You'll remember the truth soon enough,” he says calmly. “For now, let's try not to get angry. The last time you got angry, you caused a great deal of damage.”
“Where are they?” I sneer, taking another step toward him. I can feel it happening again, I can feel the anger rising in my chest, preparing to burst out again just like last time. “Take me to them right now!”
“Annie...”
“Take me to them!” I scream, squeezing my fists tight.
“Oh dear,” he says with a sigh, “I was truly hoping that we weren't going to have to do this. More fool me, huh?”
“Where -”
Before I can finish, I hear a footsteps over my shoulder and I realize that one of the soldiers crept around behind me while I was talking. I try to turn to him, but I'm too late and something sharp slices into the back of my neck, instantly sending a vast wall of pain through my body. I scream, and the scream explodes in my mind and knocks me out cold.
Chapter Seventeen
If this is how I die, it's ridiculous.
Chapter Eighteen
As I perch in the tiny bathroom window and look down at the ground below, I find myself reconsidering my options. I can still hear the party raging in the rest of the house, with loud music thudding so hard that the window's frame is shuddering. The last thing I want is to go back in there and spend even more hours pretending not to be bored, but my medication means that I'm not allowed to drink and it's not much fun bein
g the only sober one in the middle of loads of drunk friends. I've tried leaving the party the conventional way, through the front door, but Carrie or someone else always drags me back inside, which is why I've resorted to climbing out of the bathroom window.
The drop isn't that big.
Ten feet, maybe?
I can do this.
“I can do this,” I say out loud, but my hands are still clinging to the frame. “I can do this. I will do this.”
I take a deep breath.
I try to steady my nerves.
“I can do this,” I say again, hoping that I'll get a little extra bravery from somewhere. “I will do this.”
I swallow hard.
“You can do this,” a voice says.
Startled, I let out a gasp as I turn and see a girl sitting on the toilet with her pants around her ankles. I vaguely remember seeing her earlier at the party, but I don't know her. I guess with all the noise, I didn't hear her coming into the bathroom behind me. I knew I should have locked the door, but I didn't want to leave it locked for the rest of the night in case someone else needed to come in here. Damn me for being so considerate.
“How long have you been there?” I stammer, before realizing that this all feels strangely familiar. “Have we met?”
“I've only been here for a couple of minutes,” she replies. “So, are you going out or not? It's just, it's getting pretty cold in here.”
“Have you...” I pause. “Are you...”
“Not yet,” she replies. “I'm kinda bustin', though, so if you could make up your mind, that'd be grand.”
I hesitate, before clambering back down from the window. The girl is still staring at me, but I swear I've seen her before. Not just in general, but here, specifically at this party, and even more specifically... sitting on this very toilet. That's impossible, of course, but the feeling persists and I can't help staring at the girl. I'm aware that I must be making her feel very awkward right now, and I really want to just go back over to the window and leave the party, but I am officially feeling really strange right now.
Wait, I almost forgot. I swore to stop using the word 'officially' like that.
“Anything I can help you with?” the girl asks.
“No,” I reply.
“Then do you mind if I get on with what I came in here to do?”
“Absolutely not,” I tell her, feeling pretty dazed as I head over to the window. “Don't mind me, I was just... I mean, I...”
Opening the window, I climb back onto the ledge, but then I look back at the girl.
“Still holding it in,” she says. “Still kinda hoping to go soon.”
“Have we ever met?” I ask.
I wait, but she doesn't immediately say anything.
“I don't know,” she replies finally, keeping her eyes very much fixed on me. “Do you feel like we have?”
“Have we?”
“Do you think we have?” she asks, and she seems very calm now, as if he's no longer so keen to get rid of me. “Tell me, Annie. Do you truly, honestly think we've ever been in the same room together before?”
“I...”
My voice trails off for a moment, and then I shake my head.
“No,” I tell her. “Of course not. I'm sorry, I don't know what's up with me, I think it's some kind of deja vu. Do you ever get that?”
“Totally,” she replies.
“I guess it's because this situation is so strange,” I continue. “The human brain is a pretty weird thing, isn't it? It's like some part of my mind keeps insisting that we've been here before. Both of us. In this exact same situation, and...” I pause, as I realize that something strange happened just a moment ago. “How did you know my name?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You just called me Annie, but I didn't tell you my name.”
“Sure you did.”
“No, I -”
“You asked me how long I've been here,” she says, interrupting me, “and then you asked me whether or not we've met, and then you told me that your name is Annie. I remember that really clearly, it only happened like two or three minutes ago.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I'm sure,” she replies, “now are you going or not? 'Cause, to be perfectly honest, I've been holding this in for way long than I should have, and Kegel exercises can only get a girl so far.”
“Sorry,” I say, turning and looking out the window. “I'll be off. Sorry to have bothered you.”
I look down at the darkness below, and I spot a bush that I guess I can try to land in. I'm not too far up, and hopping out the window feels infinitely better than going back into the party and trying to negotiate my exit with Carrie. I take a deep breath, and then finally I drop off the ledge and let myself fall to the garden below. As I do so, my mind briefly fills with another memory, and I have what feels like a flashback to a time when I fell from a much higher window. I know that never actually happened, of course, and a moment later these thoughts are wiped away as I land awkwardly and roll onto my side, letting out some pretty bad curse words in the process.
“Are you okay?” the girl calls from the bathroom.
Rolling onto my back, I say a word that would make my grandmother blush, and then I sit up. I don't seem to be hurt, other than a graze on my right knee, so I haul myself to my feet and brush some dirt from my front. I've never really hopped out of a window before, but I figure that I actually did quite a good job. A moment later, hearing a bumping sound high above, I look up and see the girl staring down at me from the window.
“All done,” she says brightly, as if she's really proud of yourself. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No,” I reply, “I don't think so.”
“Cool. Sorry I had to rush you back there but, well, you know how it is. When you've got to go, you've got to go.”
“Speaking of which,” I reply, taking a step back, “I have to go now.”
“Night!”
“Sure.”
Turning, I start walking away. That girl really made me feel super spooky and weird, and after just a few steps I glance back to make sure that she's not still watching me. She is, so I simply smile and hurry on my way, and I feel quite relieved by the time I get to the street. Stopping, I look back again, and I can still see the girl's silhouette in the bathroom window. I edge back behind a bush, and then I peer around just in time to see the girl going away from the window. I have no idea why, but she seemed really curious about me, and I still don't think that I told her my name. Then again, I'm tired and cold, and I'm just relieved that I managed to get away from the party at all.
The walk home is calm and uneventful. Nothing unusual happens, and an hour later I'm safely tucked away in bed.
Chapter Nineteen
“No!” I scream, as I'm pulled back into the metal cage and then two of the soldiers place thick metal straps around my wrists. “You can't do this!”
“Annie,” Doctor Gibson says with a sigh, “there's really no need to be melodramatic. I just need to determine what impact, if any, your recent experiences have had on you. After all, you were attacked by several of the other patients and it's already evident that you've suffered some serious changes.”
“Let me out of here!” I sob, trying desperately to get free, even as my legs are strapped into place. “I want to go home!”
“Oh, but Annie,” Doctor Gibson says, leaning closer to my face until his leering grin fills my vision, “you are home.”
***
Opening my eyes, I feel an immediate rush of relief as I realize that it was a dream. I imagined myself being chained to some kind of apparatus, but now I'm back in my bedroom and – as I sit up – I realize that it's almost 11am. I got back from the party about seven hours ago, and I still feel a little tired, but otherwise I'm at least relieved that I made it home in one piece.
I just wish I hadn't had that nightmare about being trapped somewhere as a prisoner, although the details are already starting t
o fade from my mind.
Hauling myself out of bed, I stumble to the door, figuring that I need to get some breakfast. After all, I've got a shift at the restaurant later today, and I don't want to be late. As I open the door, however, the upper part of the frame suddenly falls down, landing at my feet.
“Nice,” I mutter, picking it up and setting it on the side. “Suddenly this place is falling apart.”
***
“There you are,” Mom says as I head into the kitchen and make a beeline straight for the fridge. “I was about to wake you up. Annie, do you mind watching your brother for a few hours while I pop out? I need to drop some documents by the office and I don't really fancy trying to wrangle Stevie out the door.”
“Sure,” I reply, not really paying a huge amount of attention. “You need to be back by three, though, 'cause I have to go to work.”
“I will be, I promise.”
I start to open the fridge door, but then I hesitate as I realize that something seems to be wrong. Looking over at Mom as she races around and gets ready to leave, I tilt my head slightly as I try to figure out why I feel so uneasy.
“Did you dye your hair?” I ask finally.
“Huh?”
“You're blonde. Since when were you blonde.”
She glances at me.
“I don't know what you're talking about, Annie,” she mutters, grabbing her bag and then coming over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I'll be back before you have to go to work, I swear.”
“Did you change your perfume?” I ask.
She heads to the door.
“Are you shorter?” I add, feeling genuinely puzzled.
Figuring that I'm just in one of those weird moods this morning, I reach into the fridge and take out the milk. I wander over to the counter and grab a bowl, which I quickly fill with cereal before opening the milk carton. Just as I'm about to pour, however, I freeze as I see something handwritten on the carton's side in small but quite noticeable writing:
