by Hanna Peach
Someone cleared her throat behind him. He spun. A woman in a white coat stood there, he guessed in her mid-fifties, gray shooting through her dark blonde hair tied back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, a weary look pulling down the jowls of her chin and her eyes a flat dull blue. “Israel, is it?” Her voice was crisp and efficient. “I’m Dr. Novak. You’re her fiancé, are you?”
“Yes.”
The doctor glanced past him to Alyx. Following her gaze he realized the doctor was staring at her left hand. Her ringless left hand.
“It was too big,” Israel said. “The ring I got her. We’re having it resized… Will she be okay?”
Dr. Novak walked to the end of Alyx’s bed, where she picked up a clipboard. “She came in with a contusion, a major concussion. Her vitals are sound, but…”
“But…what?”
The doctor pursed her lips. “I don’t know why she sank into a coma. A deep coma. She’s not responding to anything. Her pupils aren’t dilating, she’s not responding to verbal cues. No motor responses either. We’ve hooked her up to an IV drip to keep her fluids up and we’re monitoring her heart rate. That’s all we can do for her now.”
“When will she wake up?”
“Israel,” she said slowly. “There’s no medical reason for her to even be in a coma.”
Israel blinked once, twice at the doctor, trying to decipher the meaning behind her words. He didn’t find any answers there. He glanced down at Alyx and his heart fluttered at the sight of her so frail and helpless. It looked so wrong. “What does that mean? Why won’t she wake up?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” The doctor replaced the clipboard at the end of Alyx’s bed and turned to leave. At the door she paused and shot one last meaningful look at Israel. “Are you a spiritual man?”
“No.” He had stopped believing in any of that rubbish a long time ago. Being a cop, seeing the things he had, did that to a man. “Why?”
“Sometime medical science doesn’t have the answers. Sometimes the answers are found somewhere else.”
“Like where?” He was starting to get frustrated because he just couldn’t understand whatever this doctor was implying. “What answers?”
“Maybe there’s a reason she doesn’t want to wake up.”
* * *
Maybe there’s a reason she doesn’t want to wake up.
Israel jammed the key to his apartment, the doctor’s voice still ringing in his head. After the doctor had left, he remained at Alyx’s bedside. He couldn’t bring himself to leave. He just sat there for hours in a chair by her bed, whispering to her to please wake up and reminding her of all the reasons why this world was a good place to be in: “chocolate ice cream and puppies and the first snow of winter and the way the autumn turns the leaves green and gold.” Just like your beautiful eyes. Open those eyes, Alyx. Let me see them. Until one of the nurses kicked him out, letting him know that visiting hours were over.
Israel let himself into his dark apartment and an old Chinese proverb rang in his head. If you save a life, you’re responsible for it. Maybe this responsibility was why he seemed so tied to Alyx, a woman he didn’t even know.
Maybe she’s your penance.
He shut the door behind him, turned on the light and froze. There were two men he’d never seen before in his living room. One looked like a gypsy, with golden skin and dirty blonde hair that grew over his collar. The other was chocolate-skinned with raven hair.
“Don’t freak out,” the darker one said. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
Israel was so stunned that for a second he didn’t react. “Who the hell are you?”
“We’re…old friends of Alyx’s.”
Israel’s body prickled, tensing. Friends of Alyx’s? Why were they here? Had they followed him from the hospital?
“I’m Jordan,” the gypsy-looking one said, “and this is Balthazar.”
“Or you can call me B,” the dark-haired man said with a grin.
How the hell had they gotten in? The door had been locked. He hadn’t noticed any tool marks around the lock.
A cool breeze floated in from somewhere. His bedroom window had been opened, the curtains floating out like ghosts. They must have scaled up all four stories. His skin prickled. They must want something very badly to risk scaling up this high.
“What do you want?” he said, his gaze darting over the intruders, assessing them. The one named Jordan was taller and broader, but Balthazar looked faster and leaner. Israel wouldn’t win against the two of them in an unarmed fight. Neither of them had guns in their hands nor could he see any bulges of weapons on their person. Not visible ones anyway.
“We just want to talk,” said Jordan.
“Well, Jordan, come on,” Balthazar said. “We don’t just want to talk, do we?”
“What?”
“We’re going to ask him to do something for us?”
“Are you serious? It was just a figure of speech.”
“I just don’t want to misrepresent us.”
Israel eyed the two men as they bickered between themselves. They were distracted enough. This would be his best chance.
He slammed back up against the door, his hands going for the pistol at his hip. Usually it would be his service weapon, a CZ 75, but seeing as that was taken off him when he quit, he now kept an unregistered Glock 17 that he’d paid for in cash.
“Hands up, both of you,” he yelled, pointing the gun between them.
The two stopped talking and turned to face him.
“Is he pointing a gun at us?” said Balthazar, sounding more curious than scared.
Jordan snorted. “Well, that won’t work.”
Why weren’t these guys scared?
“Get your hands up now.” Israel clicked back the hammer. “I’ll shoot.”
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Jordan, as if Israel was being a nuisance.
“Maybe you should give him something to calm him down,” Balthazar said.
“Already on it.” Before Israel could move, Jordan flicked his palm at him. A warm wave of sleepiness smashed into him and almost knocked him off his feet. It drowned him, crashing down over him like half an ocean. He dropped to his knees, swaying. The gun slid out of his fingers and clattered to the floor. The world fluttered in and out of sight as his eyelids refused to stay open. What the hell was happening to him?
He was about to fall the rest of the way when he felt hands on him, preventing him from hitting the threadbare carpet. His head flopped to one side, too heavy to hold up.
“Dammit, Jordan,” he heard from close by. “I said ‘calm him down’ not ‘knock him out’.”
“Relax, B. I didn’t knock him out. Look, he’s awake. Sort of.”
There was a sigh. “We can’t exactly talk to him while he’s like this, can we?”
“Why not? I always liked him more when he was asleep.”
“Still holding a grudge for getting the girl, are we?”
There was an indignant snort. “Of course not.”
None of what these two intruders said made sense. Israel just knew that whatever electrical node or weapon they had used on him was fading a little. He had to fight against it or he’d be dead. Or worse.
Israel fought against the sleepiness, trying to lift it off him as if it were a pile of coats. It was working. Kind of. He was able to struggle meekly as they dragged him to the couch and pulled him onto it. If they were going to hurt him, why the hell would they lie him on the couch?
“See? He’s already fighting the DreamWalker,” Jordan said, sounding amused. “There may be some of his old self left in him.”
What the hell was DreamWalker? Was that a kind of Taser gun?
Balthazar bent down at Israel’s side, his whole face almost taking up Israel’s entire range of vision. For a second he thought he saw a shimmer of blue across Balthazar’s cheekbones. He blinked and it was gone. His eyes must be playing tricks on him.
“Comfy?” Balthazar asked before
stepping back.
If they were here going to hurt him, why would they care if he was comfortable? The sleep had slid off enough that his eyes were fully open now but his body still felt like lead.
Israel tried his best to glare at Jordan as he settled down in one of the armchairs, his gaze steady on Israel’s face. There was something about this guy that irked him. A cocky arrogance about him that made Israel want to punch him right in his pretty-boy face.
Balthazar perched on the far arm of the couch, lacing his fingers together on his knee. “Now,” he said in a tone that made Israel feel like he was seven and about to be lectured. “Jordan’s going to…er, let you up, but only if you promise not to freak out and try to point any more guns at us.” He shuddered. “Lord, do I hate guns. If I wanted to be filled full of little balls, I’d—”
“Wave if you agree, Israel,” said Jordan, cutting Balthazar off.
He knows my name. How does he know my name? Any thoughts that this was just a random break-in were gone. They wanted him for some reason.
Israel channeled all his strength into his right hand and slowly lifted up his middle finger.
“You were always a charming one,” Jordan muttered as he flicked his palm out towards Israel again.
This time the feeling that thundered through Israel was cool and refreshing. He felt the sleep being lifted off him and the lightness coming back to his bones. He kicked himself into the farthest corner of the couch, then swung his legs out so they were flat on the floor and he was sitting. His gun was still by the front door, too far away to be any damn use. He’d have to play along until he figured out a better plan. “You’ve got my attention. What do you want?”
“We need your help,” Jordan said. “That is to say, someone very dear to us…and you, needs your help.”
“This is about Alyx,” Israel guessed.
Balthazar pursed his lips. “How to explain…”
“We don’t have time to sit around being pleasant and recanting history like old school chums at a reunion,” Jordan cut in. “Alyx is running out of time.”
A realization broke through into his mind. Whatever they had done to him, they must have done to Alyx. That’s why she wasn’t waking up. Israel’s fingers dug into the arm of the couch. “You did something to her. You put her to sleep and now she’s not waking up.”
“Settle down,” Jordan said, lifting a finger in a warning. “We didn’t do anything to her. We’re trying to help her. Or at least, help you, help her.”
“You see,” Balthazar said, “Alyx is trapped in a kind of DreamScape and—”
“He doesn’t know what a DreamScape is,” said Jordan.
Balthazar crossed his arms, his dark features snapping to annoyance. “Let’s see you explain it.”
Jordan turned to Israel. “Alyx is trapped in a labyrinth inside her own mind. Only you can get through to her and help her get out before it’s too late.”
“Trapped in a labyrinth?” Israel repeated.
“Yes.”
“In her own mind?”
“Exactly.”
Israel stared at Jordan. He hadn’t pegged Jordan as a lunatic, but then again, these days sometimes you couldn’t tell. “What the hell have you been smoking?”
Jordan threw his hands in the air. “Mortals,” he muttered.
“I knew we should have made Vix come here instead of trying to contact the Elder,” Balthazar said. “She’d know what to say to convince him.”
Who the hell was the Elder?
Jordan snorted. “We don’t have time to wait ’til he’s convinced. He’ll figure it all out soon enough.” Jordan palmed the air again. The wave that hit Israel was like the first, hot and heavy. He fought against it. But it was no use. This time an ocean crashed down over him and he felt himself getting sucked down.
Down,
down,
into darkness.
Chapter 4
Israel landed on the ground with a thud. His eyes felt glued shut and his cheek pushed into the musty-smelling carpet. He let out a groan as he tested his fingers. His body felt stiff.
What a weird dream. Those two strangers, their weird conversation…something about Alyx and labyrinths. Then that terrifying Taser gun thing Jordan had. Israel must have thrashed around so hard he rolled out of bed and was now lying on the floor of his bedroom. He couldn’t remember getting into bed after he got home… Did his bedroom always feel this drafty?
“Where the hell did you come from?” It was a familiar female voice.
Israel started, tearing his eyes open and pushing himself up to sitting. Blood rushed to his head and his fingers gripped into the carpet fibers. No, these weren’t carpet fibers. He was sitting on a rug. But his bedroom didn’t have a rug in it.
That’s because this wasn’t his bedroom.
Israel stared around the cavernous room. It seemed to be a windowless underground vault, made entirely of carved stone, patches of dark moss breathing moist air back into the place. It would be totally dark if not for the dancing flames in iron torches bolted onto the pillars.
There was Alyx, looking very awake and unharmed, standing a few meters away from him and staring down at him, mouth open.
His heart kicked up a notch.
She was just as beautiful here in his dream, her eyes glowing like two emeralds. She was still wearing the same black pants, blouse and jacket as she was at the cathedral, but she seemed unharmed.
“Alyx?” He pushed himself up to standing, wobbling lightly as he took to his feet.
He might still be dreaming but his heart wasn’t reacting that way. He could feel the thud of it against the inside of his ribs.
She nodded, her eyes wide. “I know you. You were at the cathedral… You’re Israel.”
She remembered my name. Say my name again.
“Why am I dreaming about you?” she muttered almost to herself.
“Hang on a second. I’m the one who’s dreaming.” Or at least, he thought he was. Israel began to feel the weighty sense that something else was going on here.
“No,” she said slowly. “You’re part of my dream.”
He frowned. “No…you are part of my dream.”
She frowned at him. “You’re really argumentative for a dream.”
“I’m not the dream.”
“At least you’re easy on the eye.”
Israel froze. “Did you just objectify me?”
Her cheeks slightly reddened but she put on an unaffected air and shrugged.
Israel opened his mouth but Alyx interrupted him. “If you make a crack about being my dream guy I will slap you.”
Israel closed his mouth. He was about to say that. “Tough crowd,” he muttered.
He heard a crack from above. It was déjà vu all over again. This time he didn’t even stop to look up. He lunged for Alyx shouting at her to “Move!” His body collided with hers and she let out a scream. There was a crash of rock against the stone floor just where they had been standing.
They hit the ground with an audible grunt and kept rolling. When they stopped, Israel found himself lying partly on top of her. Her hair pooled all about her face as she looked up at him, her plump pink lips parted and her breath sucked in between them… “Israel,” she whispered.
He could do it, he could just lean down and kiss her right now, something he’d been wanting to do since he first saw her. His heart began to gallop at the thought and his mouth went dry.
“Israel,” she said, but louder this time.
“Hmm?”
Kiss me, her hooded eyes seemed to be whispering.
“Get off me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Those golden flecks in her eyes were stunning. Like flecks of gold suspended in an emerald sea.
“Israel.”
“Yeah?”
She arched an eyebrow and glanced down at their bodies. He was still on top of her, the curves of her lean body underneath him making him painfully aware of how he was reac
ting in turn…like an imbecile.
“Oh. Right.” He rolled off her, heat on his cheeks, his movements feeling thick and clumsy. Flustered. He was flustered. Since when did he get flustered around girls? Even girls as beautiful as Alyx.
She’s different.
You don’t know that. You don’t even know her.
He pushed himself up to sitting and as discreetly as he could, he glanced over to her sitting up, brushing herself down. Her cheeks were flushed, or was that just him projecting?
Her eyes darted to his before widening. He’d been caught staring but even then he couldn’t seem to make himself look away.
There had been other girls who were objectively as beautiful, but none had ever had…this ethereal glow about her skin. This pull. There was something about her…that sang to him.
A noise of stone on stone from the crash site caught his attention and he finally tore his eyes away from her. There was a pile of stones lying in the middle of the floor. Israel looked up to the ceiling. Part of the keystone had fallen in…
“Oh my God,” Alyx gasped as the noise sounded again. “It’s moving.”
Israel’s gaze snapped back to the pile of rocks. It was moving. In fact, it was looking less and less like a pile of rocks and more and more like…some sort of creature, with squat hind legs it was standing on and limbs it was stretching and a head it was now shaking, dust scattering in a small cloud about him. And a tail?
Israel leaped to his feet and peered at it.
“What is it?” Alyx asked Israel as she moved to his side.
“It’s a lizard,” Israel said. Some sort of stony-skinned lizard, with a beard and a tail and spikes all the way down its spine. “Stay back. We don’t know yet whether it’s dangerous.” Israel stepped in front of her, ready at any moment to push her out of the way if the thing attacked her again.
