Into the Void

by Amanda Frame

  I dropped to my knees and cried tears of joy despite the fact that I knew our plan had gone horribly awry. The Stalker wasn’t dead—in fact we had inadvertently given it a vessel to enter the physical world. John had failed to get back into Albert’s body and was therefore stuck in the Echo. Brian might be dead or worse. Anna was somewhere in the confusion in front of me, she could be dead for all I knew. I should be terrified and trying to figure out how to put the pieces back together. But I couldn’t. Relief overwhelmed every other emotion.

  I was free.

  CHAPTER 60

  JOHN

  I sank to my knees. Disbelief and denial paralyzed me. No.

  No.

  This couldn’t be happening. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t be stuck here again. Alone.

  I couldn’t do it again. I refused. I wasn’t going to murder Leeches or find a new home to fortify or pick up a crossbow ever again. I would rather let myself waste away. I couldn’t bear the thought of even being trapped here for one more day, let alone forever.

  I refused to lose my humanity again, refused to succumb to the despair of loneliness. I refuse.

  Everything had gone to hell. The situation was exponentially worse. Not one thing had gone as planned.

  I sat on the floor, hugging my knees and crying, the hopelessness dragging out every passing moment. I barely felt the gentle touch on my shoulder.

  I looked up, my vision blurry with tears, and blinked them away. It was Liz. The look on her face was the polar opposite of what I was feeling. A delicate, effortless smile shined down on me, the epitome of tranquility. There was pure happiness radiating from her eyes, almost tangible, a warmth sending shivers across my skin.

  The emotion seeped into me, slowing the tears and calming my heart just enough to keep the despair from drowning me.

  She crouched down so we were face to face, and gave me a hug. I closed my eyes and breathed it in, trying to imprint it in my soul, knowing I wouldn’t feel human contact beyond this moment ever again.

  “I forgive you John, and it’s going to be okay,” she said, pulling away and stroking my cheek. I leaned in to her touch.

  “How? How is it going to be okay?”

  “There’s a way back for you. I can feel it. I can always feel it,” she said, standing and turning away from me.

  I stood up and grabbed for her arm, but my fingers passed through it. She was fading away, different from how she usually did. She was glowing with an internal light. Each second her image faded more, the light overtaking it.

  “What do you mean? Liz!” I called after her as she walked away. She turned to face me once more and I was touched with another wave of warmth, bringing with it a peace that conflicted so strongly with every other emotion running through me.

  “I have to go now, John. You can do it. Survive…”

  Then she was gone. And with her she took my last connection to humanity.

  I got to me feet, breath ragged and shaking, and walked in a trance, turning in to a stairwell. Every step downward felt like I was going deeper and deeper.

  Into the Void.

  I stopped and looked back upward, seeing the spiral of the staircase leading back to the blue number four, the doorway that would take me back to the ICU.

  “Survive…” I whispered.

  CHAPTER 61

  ANNA

  The growling and hissing was cut short after I heard the electric buzz of a taser. I flinched and backed against the wall. The handle of the bathroom door rattled, someone trying to open it. I heard a woman’s voice asking me to open the door, telling me I was safe now.

  I emerged in time to see John’s body on the ground, a woman with her fingers on his neck, checking his pulse. She shook her head and yelled, “Crash cart!”

  A black form was drifting up from John’s body. I just watched, numb. It threw its head back and howled, the sound slowly dissipating to nothing, along with its image.

  I was pushed aside as a machine was wheeled into the room. A woman in pale green scrubs kneeled down to rip open John’s shirt, placing paddles on his bare chest.

  “Clear!” she yelled, and his body jerked. Nothing happened.

  “Clear!” she yelled again.

  I closed my eyes, blocking out the nightmare in front of me. The sounds faded as I went into shock. I felt someone grab me by the arm and lead me out of the room.

  The person left me in the hallway and went back in, leaving me without a word. I stood there, staring at nothing, uncomprehending.

  “Anna!”

  I heard my name being called by a familiar voice.

  “Anna!” There were hands on my shoulders, shaking me. It was Becca.

  “It’s Brian! Come on!” She dragged me down the hall. I ran after her on autopilot. “Code blue ICU” was echoing from the loud speaker. People were everywhere, many of them looking confused. I heard some saying “202” and some saying “214”.

  I watched the room numbers go by. 211, 212, 213. We stopped, stuck behind people running in and out of 214. My trance was fading, I was trying to focus. What was going on?

  It took a long while for people to clear out so we could get close enough to see into the room. To see Brian.

  A nurse was standing next to him, hanging an IV bag on a pole. There was a tube down his throat, his chest rising and falling mechanically. There were pads on his chest, hooked up to wires that led up to a machine, steadily beeping away. His heartbeat. His heart was beating. For now.

  “You girls need to leave,” a female voice said. I looked up. I thought it might be the same person who led me out of Liz’s room. Away from John.

  John.

  Becca put her arm over my shoulders and led me down to the lobby to sit on the wide window sill overlooking the courtyard. My spirit was broken.

  She held me as I cried.

  EPILOGUE

  3 MONTHS LATER

  John’s funeral had been small. He hadn’t had many friends or family. Albert had had a daughter, but John hadn’t spoken to her in many, many years. The relationship had been deteriorating even before he had woken up from a coma an entirely different person. My parents and Becca came to the funeral with me to be supportive but I still hadn’t made it through the whole ceremony.

  I never saw or heard from Liz again, but I hoped she had gotten her wish and been able to move on. I was pretty sure she had. That was the only silver lining to the ordeal.

  I had gotten the job at the restaurant and they let me start three weeks later than I said I was able to, trying to be understanding that I had had a loss in my family. I was reclusive for quite a while. I couldn’t cope, didn’t know how.

  I walked into the house and hung my purse next to the front door, anxious to change out of the uniform that reeked of fried food. I kicked off my shoes and went to the fridge, grabbed a soda, and popped the tab. I sipped the fizz off the top and sat down on the couch.

  “Sweetie, you home?” I heard my mom call.

  “Yep,” I responded, taking another sip. She came down the stairs holding a basket of dirty laundry and set it on the coffee table, coming to sit next to me on the couch.

  “Brian Wilkes’s mom called me today. I am not sure how she got my number but they’re back in town.”

  “Huh?” I said, taking another sip. I hadn’t thought about him in a while. I tried not to. Too many emotions accompanied the thought of him.

  Brian had woken up less than an hour after we left the hospital but Becca and I hadn’t heard anything other than that. His parents had taken him “on vacation” for the summer shortly after he was released, but I was pretty sure they left to avoid the rumors that would start shortly after. Three months is an awfully long vacation. I didn’t think anyone believed it.

  “He wants to know if you would come over to see him. I guess he got a new phone and doesn’t have your number.”

  “What? Why?” I was the cause of everything that had happened to him. I didn’t know if he knew that, bu
t he undoubtedly sensed I was involved in some way.

  “She said he wants to say thank you.”

  “Thank you? For what?” I certainly hadn’t done anything that deserved thanks. I put my soda down next to the laundry basket and faced my mom for the first time since she sat down. She didn’t know.

  “She said you can stop over anytime this weekend. They’re getting settled back into the house so they’ll be there.”

  I took a deep breath. “I guess,” I said hesitantly. I didn’t want to see Brian. Everything that happened during those few months revolved around him. I hated thinking about it. It was too traumatic. And I didn’t want to think about John.

  My eyes filled with tears, but I blinked them away before they could fall. I didn’t want my mom to see. She assured me I didn’t have to go if it was too hard on me, but I decided I would. After all I put Brian through, I could at least see him if that was what he wanted.

  ~

  I knocked on the front door, tapping my foot nervously. The door opened just as I was about to leave.

  I was face to face with Brian. He looked a lot better than the last time I had seen him. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and his mouth spread in a huge smile. I tried not to let my confusion show.

  “Come on in!” he said cheerfully, and motioned me inside.

  “Um, okay,” I said, following him hesitantly. He led me into the kitchen and I stood there awkwardly.

  “You can sit,” he said pointing to the kitchen table. I sat.

  “Uh, thanks. So your mom said you wanted me to come over…”

  “Yeah! We have a lot to catch up on,” he said smiling.

  “We do?”

  “Of course. We haven’t seen each other in months,” he said, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet. He turned to face me and grinned. His smile was so familiar, even though we had rarely hung out, even at school. Just the few times I had been to one of Becca’s family functions.

  He bent down and grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge. He turned around and raised it questioningly.

  “Lemonade? Oh, no thanks,” I said, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

  “Are you sure? It’s just lemonade this time. I promise.” I paused, letting my hair fall. I met his gaze, the green eyes above that familiar lopsided grin staring back at me.

  I stood up abruptly, knocking the chair over, mouth parted. His smile wavered.

  We stared at each other until I could no longer meet his gaze.

  I left without a word.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.