Invisible Threads

by Michael Hyslip

  I entered the bank and decided to pop into the restroom first to make sure I didn’t have tire tracks or pavement on my face after the close call with that car. I looked fine, washed up my face and hands, and started toward the exit when I heard screaming followed by a short burst of gunshots. This was not going to be a good day….

  Chapter 3

  An authoritative voice demanded, “Shut up and get down.” Another yelled for all cell phones and other devices. I moved toward the bathroom door when it was kicked in, followed by nasty-looking AR-15-style rifle connected to a thug in a black mask, who pushed it into my face.

  At the same time, I noticed the room become considerably darker as my stress induced those now-familiar fuzzy artifacts around the edges of every object. The thug yelped and jumped, turning all around and looking confused. I was enchanted for a moment because his entire outline became glittery, as if I had rubbed my eyes vigorously. As he was turning around, and while he faced away, I drove my elbow directly into the guy’s kidney with my entire body weight, then followed up as he involuntarily arched backward. I grabbed under his chin, pulling him swiftly back and down as I connected my knee to the back of his head. I knew that was the end of his threat as I felt something crunch; he spasmed a few times and then fell still.

  The darkness in the room was subsiding as I caught the scene in the mirror. I wasn’t completely there; my image faded into the light, and then everything flickered. I’d have to think about that later, though, and possibly go back to the hospital for a checkup. I hoped this wasn’t the onset of anything major after the coma. Losing my vision would certainly put a damper on my new life, but if I were losing my mind, I wondered if I would even notice.

  I quickly dragged the body into one of the bathroom stalls and gathered his rifle and pistol, while realizing I knew how each one worked in detail. I must have had some training at some point and knew that could certainly come in handy. After verifying each gun was loaded, I stuck the pistol behind my belt for easy access and brought the rifle to a ready position. Spiking adrenals had caused another headache, but it started to fade with each second—seconds I really didn’t have time to spare.

  I looked at the mirror again, and nothing seemed out of place, so I took a few deep breaths, got down low, and slowly made my way out of the restroom. I kept the rifle ready, if needed, and could hear a few voices yelling in the main lobby in addition to one farther away, probably coming from the vault room. I was in a small hallway out of sight from the main entrance and lobby. Footsteps were heading my direction as I tried to hide behind some large decorative planters, the foliage possibly breaking up my outline enough to give me a small advantage.

  “Come on, clear the bathrooms and get out of here already!”

  Yeah… you do that, buddy, I thought.

  Just as he stepped around the corner, I tensed up and got ready to shoot, but I wanted to keep things quiet for as long as possible. My head began to throb again as I felt the jumbled anticipation of battle; my vision darkened as this wanna-be bank robber came into view. He walked right past me toward the bathroom with his rifle hanging at his side, not even a side glance. What?

  Without hesitation, I took a quick few steps forward and slammed the butt of my rifle into the back of his head as he stumbled through the bathroom door and facedown on the floor. I stomped on the back of his neck to make sure he was no longer an issue, and according to the sound that was like a thick, snapping tree branch, he wasn’t. My heart pounded full force as I stood up and got my rifle back into a ready position. Then I noticed the mirror and the entire bathroom, which was easy to do because my reflection was simply not there, or at least not fully. I could see a thin, partial outline of my features, but I was otherwise invisible…

  I jumped back in dismay, and my reflection snapped back into focus, while the lights became brighter and clearer. Oh my God… What is this about?!

  I was completely stunned, startled, confused, and probably about to have a bowel movement. To make matters worse, I’d just made a lot of noise and now heard some yelling as the bank robbers approached. Not exactly the brightest bunch, letting everyone know where they were.

  “Unit three, respond NOW!” I listened quietly behind the door.

  I noticed the earpiece on the body on the floor and knew they must have radios. Gotcha… Better than a loud radio, I thought, but when the door swung open, I dropped, slowly exhaled, and fired. Lead and copper created a pretty pink mist as the bullet entered his chin and exited the head of this overgrown beast of a henchman. Wow… that guy must be eight feet tall. I was also afraid of what I had seen in the mirror. Or was it what I’d not seen? More thoughts for a later time, because that gunshot was quite loud, and I couldn’t dwell on potential nerve-related, post-coma problems right then.

  I rushed out the door and around the hallway, coming into the main lobby where at least one thug yelled for responses over his radio. I couldn’t see the robbers, but I did see the bank customers lying on the ground, wild eyed and frightened. A few spotted me, so I waved and kept low as I made my way to the nearest group.

  “My name is Sam; I’m here to help. How many are there?”

  A middle-aged gentleman was trying to cover his wife in protection, aghast at the situation, but found the ability to respond: “I seen four, but I dunno… I think that be it…. Oh Lord help us!”

  “Thank you,” I replied, “Simon says… you should stay down.” As soon as I said it, I knew it was probably not the time to reference childhood games.

  Fine, so four. I sure hoped no more than this. I ran low toward the teller counter as another man with a rifle exited the vault area. Everything went a bit darker and fuzzier, and my adrenaline slowed the feeling of time. He didn’t see me, but did notice the high-velocity rounds to his spine after punching through his solar plexus. I heard the gasps of people around me and saw miniature lightning bugs that seemed to float over my vision around the edges of color. The lights became brighter. Then I heard a crash as a SWAT team flooded the lobby. I did the smartest thing ever and dropped the rifle, backed up, and got down on my knees with hands behind my head. See? Not a complete idiot. At least not always. I dared not reach for the pistol behind my belt, even to throw it to the ground.

  About three hours later, I was released from the police station. It had been obvious I wasn’t in on the heist—just ended up in the wrong place at the right time. My fingerprints were still out of the system since I had not been charged with anything. I had gotten incredibly lucky and had also killed all four of the gunmen, which upset no one, be it police or hostage. That part had been settled quickly, once the preliminary results from the scene backed up my testimony of the events. I had then been asked in strange and roundabout ways to explain why several folks claimed to see me fade out of existence when I shot the last robber.

  Feigning ignorance, I explained that adrenaline and the firearms’ flashes most certainly played tricks on them. Since all surveillance video had been disabled by the burglars upon entry, there was no way to refute or confirm anything. Many of the hostages recanted their statements on this matter after a while and claimed stress-related hallucinations, probably so they would not appear crazy. But enough of them had mentioned it to warrant questioning me. It wouldn’t help for the detectives to appear crazy either, so the matter was dropped, and I was free to go.

  After I left, I found a place to sit and consider the recent events. Something very strange was happening, and perhaps I was going crazy, but I wasn’t the only person to see it. Or should I say not see it? Despite my coma, I knew that disappearing was abnormal and completely different than people who simply don’t seem to notice each other on a crowded sidewalk. There was no way to find out how it happened (or was triggered) in a public place. I couldn’t imagine how quickly I’d be captured if I were found out, but I suppose that would mean they’d need to see me first. I’d end up in the crazy ward, regardless of being invisible or not. Wonderful, Samuel, you’re really making a
great life now…

  I got up and walked back to the hospital; I needed to talk to someone, and Janet was just about the only person I trusted. Since she was in the medical field, hopefully, I could find some answers to questions I might not even know I had.

  Inside the hospital, I tracked down Janet in the coma ward. If I hadn’t awakened when I did, they would have soon transferred me to a long-term care facility. It had been bad enough being here in the “vegetable patch,” as it was referred to by the staff. Still, I found the term amusing and certainly fitting. I got to the local nursing station and asked, “Hey, is Janet around by chance?”

  Marcy, the kind but snappy woman at the desk, was a fantastic person and had also been extremely helpful in pushing me hard to become functional again, even as her silver curls would quiver when laughing at something silly I’d done. There were more than a few people who had helped, but she and Janet had been my most valuable allies by far. Her grandchildren had thought it funny to send me a Dr. Seuss book Green Eggs and Ham with the character “Sam, I Am.” I thought it was funny, too, but I liked to make mad faces and pretend it bothered me just to see them giggle.

  “Sam! Glad to see you’re doing so well. She’s actually down in the lounge and starting her shift in about ten minutes. Go say hello; she’d love to see ya!”

  I smiled and nodded, heading down the hall to a quiet lounge area made just for this section of the hospital. As I came around the corner, she looked up and immediately jumped out of her chair to run and give me a hug. I was six foot two, she was five foot even, but her personality and kindness made me feel as if I were much smaller. Her brown hair was tucked back into a pony tail, and she wore a motherly look on her face. I felt bad for not coming to see her more often, though it had only been a few short weeks since I came out of the coma. I also had no way to communicate with people, and I needed to change that soon.

  “Sam! So glad to see you! I was hoping you’d stop by, and I truly hope you’re feeling better!”

  “I am, actually—for the most part—but it’s been a seriously crazy day.”

  She smiled. “You’re gaining some weight and that’s very good. We were concerned when you were first here. You had quickly lost weight, and we had to double your food intake through the feeding tube just to stabilize the loss, and slowly we were able to back off how much we gave you. It made my job a bit more difficult, but that’s okay.”

  “Difficult?” I asked, “I mean I suppose it would mean twice as much time checking on me to make sure the food wasn’t running out.”

  With a sly look on her face she replied, “Yes twice as much food and twice as much sponge baths and cleaning up stools. Did you think your bowels would stop functioning? Just part of the job; I’ve seen it all.” She winked, leaving me unsure of how to respond.

  “Ahh… right… I suppose some jobs are a bit crappier than others.”

  She groaned at that, but the smile didn’t leave. I didn’t want to dwell on the embarrassment of repeatedly soiling myself, so I explained what had happened to me at the bank as she sat in amazement. I kept the details about the invisibility and violence to myself, but I did ask if she thought it possible that I might be hallucinating. She was quick to hug me again, making sure I was alright.

  “I am truly okay, Janet, but this has been one heck of a day. I keep feeling like I was having problems with my vision while under stress, but I wanted to ask you if there might be a physical problem I should have checked out.”

  She nodded and said, “Well, some sensory issues can arise after a coma as the brain tries to reset itself in a way. Sometimes this comes as trouble walking; other times memories or other functions either do not work or aren’t under control. I really wouldn’t worry about it. There are times that patients in a post-coma scenario cannot even control their bowels or start talking complete nonsense without realizing it. There’s a wide range of things that can be experienced as the brain repairs damage. Just get as much rest as you can, and things should get better over time. If you continue to have possible hallucinations, then once you have insurance we can possibly look into an MRI or similar tests to look for physical damage or indications of injury. But it’s entirely possible this is simply a mental settling that should resolve over time.”

  “Thanks, Janet, I really appreciate it. Look, once I can, I’ll set aside some money for a phone so we can keep in touch. You’ve always been helpful, and I appreciate it more than you know. I’ve got to run for now and get some sleep, but seriously, thanks again!”

  “Okay, Sam, but please don’t be a stranger, or, at least, start making some new friends. You’ve got a life to build and shouldn’t be on your own so much. Thanks for stopping by! Make sure to visit soon. You know, I’m not always at work.”

  I hugged her again and headed back home. I felt a little better about my problems and chalked it up to sensory issues of a recovering brain. However, I was conflicted about her hint that she wasn’t always at work and the fact she had to wipe my rear for two months.

  Chapter 4

  Three weeks after the bank incident, it was impossible to prove whether my disappearing could, or did, happen. And what if it were true? Or am I going crazy if it didn’t happen? On the bright side, I not only made $3,000 from both jobs, but also had a $5,000 reward dropped on me from the bank. I was able to get into a nearby apartment a week ago, which has done wonders for my stress level, now that I have a permanent place to live.

  I set up an email account and kept in touch with Janet, letting her know progress was taking place, slowly but surely, and I was coping much better. Life was becoming less stressful, for the most part, and I was moving up in the world of technology by getting a mobile phone.

  Well, I was only relaxed when my mind wasn’t buzzing, and I tried not to think about the whole invisibility thing. I was starting to lose a great deal of sleep over it and knew I had to learn more, but wasn’t sure I could possibly tell anyone. Time to get this over with then. I stepped into the bathroom and faced the mirror in anticipation. My heart rate was rising with growing nervousness in the pit of my stomach as I faced finding out if I was potentially insane…or not. Which would be worse?

  I tried to keep calm and thought about turning invisible. Nothing happened, and I laughed at myself for being so foolish. I recalled the dimming lights, but again nothing happened other than feeling silly. But when I remembered the adrenaline and being afraid, I noticed a brief flickering of the lights, yet nothing in the mirror. I tried again, focusing on the sensation of urgency and fear when I had almost been hit by the car or during the bank robbery, since those feelings were more potent. The lights immediately dimmed, and my image in the mirror began to fade. I felt my heart jump as my surprise sparked more adrenaline, and the bathroom snapped a bit darker while I saw myself nearly fade away in the mirror. Objects became a little fuzzy, out of focus in a way, and I noticed tiny swirling lights and color along the edge of my outline and also at the edges of every object where there was a contrast of color.

  I reached up and touched the mirror, its coldness seeping into my hand. I could look through my hand, through the reflection that wasn’t even there, and see the wall behind me. Directly behind me! I was enraptured and hoped I didn’t have a brain tumor! What had once been a dull off-white and gray pattern in a generic bathroom was now glorious in the moment of realization that my world had forever changed.

  As I started wondering why the lights dimmed and whether I had some weird effect on electricity, everything snapped back to normal. I had become distracted and lost the grasp on whatever had caused me to disappear in the first place. My head began pounding again, but I felt as if I were getting used to it…like building up a muscle or using repetition for muscle memory.

  I looked back to the mirror, focused, and tried it again. The lights dimmed much faster this time, and everything became pitch black; I could see nothing in the mirror, not even the rest of the room, as I struggled to maintain my invisibility. The pain in m
y head was excruciating, but I refused to give up. I tried relaxing the grip I had on this talent, gift, or whatever it should be called, and the room lightened up a bit more. I could see the rest of the bathroom much more clearly and an outline of myself with my general features, but I was still virtually invisible. I was sure I wouldn’t be seen, and even when moving, I’d look much like a flicker in the corner of someone’s eye. My headache lasted longer than my stubborn need to continue my experiment, and everything went black as I sank into the swamp of the unconscious.

  ◆◆◆

  Control: “Teams Charlie, Delta, move in!”

  Charlie: “This is Charlie; east corridor secured.”

  Control: “Affirmative. Delta, status?”

  Delta: “We are in the control room and secured now, but one of the lead scientists is missing. Looks like a nanoprinter is here, as expected, but it’s powered up and plugged in to some sort of large equipment. There’s another room beyond.”

  Control: “Sending an engineer down ri….”

  Delta: “Incoming fire!”

  I see the lights dim as a deep resonating electrical hum starts, which overshadows the gunfire in the distance. Surprised looks from some of the technicians follow, and I realize I’m part of the Delta team. We’re here to stop someone, but I can’t remember who or why, only that it’s urgent. I try to push into the next room as movement catches my eye, a fleeting lab coat.