Every time she thinks back to her life before that last backup, something jagged cuts through her recollection like a long stretching crack in a mirror reflecting back two different halves of herself. Something within her body feels alien, maybe her entire body, maybe just the parts she knows weren't part of her original makeup at birth. She lets the tears stream down in another long period of haze before she lies back and falls into a deep dreamless sleep.
***
When she wakes up, that older man who had once been her Jordan—who had once been her lover—stands hunched just above eye level watching her with a desperate puppy-dog expression. "Hey there, Angie. You get enough rest?"
The memory of their last encounter and Jordan's hesitation to tell her about her father suddenly comes flooding into her heart and she fights back the urge to slap him across the face.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
Angela turns away from him for the second time since re-emerging from the other side of the grave. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Angie, they wouldn't let me. They said you weren't ready..."
Angela shoves the tray table with one quick jolt sending its contents all over the floor with a crash. "Fuck Them, Jordan! This is you and me we're talking about here. You and me! Do you understand?"
Jordan stands staring at her, his jaw slack open, "I..."
"I think you should leave." She sits there staring at the far wall and staring at the head of Jordan's shadow as if it were the real Jordan and the one behind her was just some half-sketched carbon copy of the man she fell in love with. When he doesn't comply, she turns and, with tears streaking what little makeup she had applied that morning, she screams, "GO!"
Jordan drops his gaze, nods, and turns and leaves.
Chapter 6
A dark landscape stretches out before Angela, barely visible, and yet visible enough to make out the fact that it stretches far beyond the horizon. Angela begins walking, free of the hospital, free of her own emotions, in this limitless expanse. The sky winks down to her in flashes of electric blue and purple. She knows it's just a dream, but considering the dreams she's had of late, she's just happy it's not another broken mirror aiming at her past. A breeze combs through the tall black trees ahead of her and a sort of silver misting rain begins to fall. Purple and blue twinkles glint off of the rain drops and each one is nearly blinding just for a second in time.
The rain feels cool and soft on her skin. Comfortable. The wind picks up suddenly and several branches rip away from a nearby tree, flying across the sky. A flash of blue lightning reveals an enormous vortex of black cloud swooping down from the heavens just this side of the horizon. A rumbling grows around Angela and she can see now that the tornado is headed her way. Time jumps ahead in a glitch of color and the giant undulating vortex towers above her, a dark twisting mouth reaching down from the invisible face of God.
She turns to run but the winds reach out like tentacles and grab her by the ankle sending her face-forward to the ground. She stretches out her arms and digs her nails into the muddy gravel of the road she had been walking on seconds before. A scream wrenches out of her as her legs are pulled up behind her, dangling feet rising toward the maw of the storm. Her nails begin to scrape as the rest of her body follows suit with her legs and feet. The feeling of weightlessness sends her stomach into her chest.
Limbs fighting every inch of rain and wind pulling her in, her body lifts faster, higher, in violent fury and, upon entering the solid black eye of the vortex, everything goes dark.
***
Lucas Dawson's body lay still on the ground as Angela shook and shook it, trying to wake him from that place where up until the last thirty years, people didn't come back from. But Lucas hadn't come back had he? Terror took hold of the edge of her heart, squeezing its fluttering rhythm. She realized that whoever pulled the trigger that made all these large grotesque gaping holes of blood and meat on Lucas's body, well, that person was just behind her now. Biding his time... Waiting. For what she didn't know, didn't understand, but he was not quite ready to fill her body up with bullet holes just yet. Angela felt like a child playing a deadly game of hide and seek. She turned and looked up at the man standing at the end of the dark garage. She couldn't quite see his face, but she knew then and there that he had done it. He was the one who killed her. Killed Dawson.
The smile on his otherwise blurred face was unsettling and, hands covered in Dawson's blood, Angela stood up slowly, raising them above her head. "Please..."
The man stepped out of the shadows, his face coming into the light and yet, somehow, she still couldn't make it out as a flash sent all of reality through a pinhole of fire.
Then, complete and utter nothingness.
***
The sounds and lights of the hospital burst into Angela's senses as her eyes open into slits. Everything is blurry but she can make out two of her nurses standing over her, concerned looks on their faces. But that's not very interesting to her now. No. What has her full and undivided attention is the man standing just beyond them. He too looks concerned, but another expression is mixed in there and Angela's not quite sure what it is, what it could be. He stands tall with just a slight hunch, exuding a jagged sense of confidence. A thick weathered black trench coat hangs from his body like an angel's wings collapsed and folded at rest. Dark stubble caresses his cheeks and hazel eyes peek out from shaded brows.
"Are you feeling all right, Miss Bane?" Nurse Kelly asks.
Angela nods then takes a sip of water the other nurse offers her then coughs. "I'm fine. Why?"
The two nurses look at each other then look back at Angela and Nurse Kelly speaks. "You were probably just having a nightmare, but we nearly had to restrain you. You wouldn't wake up and you were just about to make your way off of your bed. And your timing couldn't be better let me tell you, you have a visitor."
Angela looked at the man standing almost pressed against the far wall of the room. "I see that."
The man gives a weak grin and nods then looks back to the nurses. "Could you leave us alone, please?"
The two nurses turn back to Angela and she nods the same. "I'm fine."
Nurse Kelly gives Angela a wink the man can't see and Angela can't help but smile as the two women leave the room.
When they're gone a heavy awkward silence replaces them for a long moment before the man in the long black trench coat begins to speak.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Bane. I've been assured that you're recovering quickly—"
"And you are?"
"I'm sorry—ma'am—Detective Maddox. I worked on your case... the one... you..." He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. "You'll have to forgive me. This is pretty new to me—I've dealt with Resuscitated victims before, but they were all within a two or three year time span... I worked on your murder case, Miss Bane. Off and on for twenty-two years, I worked your case—through three captains—all of which told me many times how much I was wasting my time. Anyway, I found out a few days ago about your—about your operation—and I wanted to come talk to you. See if maybe you knew anything that might..." He rolls his arm in a gesture of moving things along. "I don't know. Anything of use, I guess."
The two stare at each other for a long moment. Angela tries hard to process everything he just said. She knew she had been dead, had been murdered, knew someone had had to work the case, and apparently now she knows who that someone was. She feels a morbid sense of gratitude and yet also a guarded sense of embarrassment. This man probably saw her lifeless naked body. Saw the wounds that cut her down to shreds. She hasn't learned the exact details yet, hasn't wanted to, but she knows enough about Resuscitation to realize that for her body to have been unable for so long to be brought back, it must have been a massacre.
***
Vanessa Nolan watches Angela with a detached curiosity. "Tell me about the dreams. You say you're seeing things from... your murder?"
"Yes and no. I'm seeing Lucas Dawson's murder and then I
see a man... And then... nothing. Everything goes away."
"And this started before or after Detective Mattox came to visit you?"
"Before... Although, I did have another dream after I met him." Angela laughs. It's a dry humorless sound. "But we didn't talk about the murders themselves much. He asked me questions about my past, people I was involved with up until my last backup."
"Well... Regardless, it's perfectly normal given that murders are the most excitable thing for your mind to latch onto. It only makes sense that your brain would make that connection after meeting the man charged with finding your killer."
"I don't know. It's like... It's like it's more than that. These dreams are too vivid. I think... I think somehow... I might actually be… remembering."
"I can understand how you might feel that way, Miss Bane, but I assure you, given the seven-month gap between your last backup and the murders, there's no way you could remember what happened."
Angela shifts uneasily. She had expected this. Had expected worse maybe even. Caricature-like envisionings of Dr. Nolan laughing in her face in some terrible carnival-mirror visual flashed through her mind.
"Is there no way at all? I mean, I'm not a brain surgeon or a synaptic data expert, but is it completely impossible?"
Now it was Dr. Nolan's turn to shift with unease. "Well... I don't think so, but I'll admit I'm no expert in that field either. Perhaps..." She reached down behind her desk and the long scrape of a drawer opening echoed off the wall behind her. Dr. Nolan pulled out an old-fashioned address book and began flipping through it. "Ah, there he is—I have a colleague—an old friend—who is an expert. Maybe he can shed some light on this." She gives Angela a long serious look. "However... I want to reiterate that I think this could be a long shot. I'm only checking because there's a shadow of a doubt here. If he tells me there's no way at all that you could be remembering anything after your last backup, you're going to have to be willing to accept that these dreams are nothing more than that. Simple dreams."
Angela nods and gives a half-hearted smile. "I can live with that. Thank you, Dr. Nolan."
"You're very welcome, Miss Bane."
A long awkward silence grows and builds between them.
Angela hesitates for a moment and then speaks. "There is one other thing..."
Dr. Nolan lifts an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Well... It's kind of crazy but..." Angela breaks eye contact and stares out the window as she continues to speak, watching thick rain spatter against the street outside as Autocabs zoom by and crowds of pedestrians collide into each other on their way to wherever it is they're going. "...I don't feel quite myself since the operation."
Dr. Nolan sits up in her seat and marks something down in her tablet. "Go on..."
"When I first woke up the time between my backup and my Resus seemed to me to be seamless. One minute I was in limbo waiting for the procedure to be over, the next I was in surgery. But for the past week now a clear division has started to form in my mind between the two. And there's this... fear—anxiety, I guess, that I'm not really Angela Bane at all."
Dr. Nolan coughs and searches the ceiling for words for several moments then takes a deep breath. "This is a large part of why we're here, Miss Bane. Many Resuscitated individuals feel a sort of disconnect with their backup self. However, it is highly possible this feeling may become even stronger in your case. As we've talked about before, prior to your Resus, the procedure wasn't possible more than three years after time of death. A lot has changed in the last twenty-two years as we've discussed and will continue to discuss in our sessions. This will take a lot of adjustment. It's perfectly normal for your mind to compartmentalize overwhelming and extraneous information. This is why I want you to take things in slowly. So your mind can have a chance to consume it without the risk of serious avoidable mental or emotional repercussions."
Angela sighs. "So, I'm guessing no internet still?"
"I'm afraid not."
Chapter 7
A light knock at the door brings Angela back from her thoughts. She looks to the wooden grain of the door, wishing she could get away from everything and everyone for just a while. "Come in."
Jordan peeks his head in. She nods sideways to signal for him to do what she's already said to. He steps in and closes the door behind him.
"Hey, how are you feeling?"
Angela doesn't look him in the eye as she answers. "I'm here. Dealing with everything one piece at a time, I guess. You?"
Their eyes meet for a split second and Angela looks away.
"I suppose my answer isn't much different from yours though I can hardly imagine what you're going through."
The distance between them seems unending, yet, for Angela, right now, it couldn't be far enough. "I'm sorry about throwing you out before. But, I..."
"I understand... I mean—I don't! But I'm doing my best to and I can at least empathize and try to imagine how difficult all this is for you."
More of the same. Angela isn't sure if she's more annoyed with the monotony of his speech or the way she's annoyed with it. She knows she should forgive him but she can't find it within herself to do so just yet. And maybe it's more than that. Maybe...
"Jordan, I'm not just having trouble adjusting to the Resus. I've been feeling a lot of things lately. Some of them were maybe even there before the... before my last backup. I think I'm going to need some time to figure these things out. I need you to be willing to give me some space. I understand you coming here today after the way I threw you out, but after today, I'm going to need you to wait until I come to you. Okay?"
Jordan stands there watching her, eyes a mix of pain and something else. Is that anger? He swallows and then opens his mouth and speaks with a calculated coldness.
"I know about you and that private investigator. Dawson? I've known for quite some time."
Angela freezes inside.
"I knew then, and I... I was going to let it go now that he's gone. I was going to let it go and I was going to give us another chance."
Dawson's words from Angela's dream hit her again like a ton of bricks. He knows. The air in the room presses down on her and she reaches for the plastic remote at her side.
"And now you say you need some time—to wait till you come to me? You never came to me. You'll never come to me."
Fists at his side and jaw hanging open and trembling, Jordan glares at Angela for one short moment before storming out the door, slamming it on his way out.
***
Detective Maddox paces around Angela's room as she talks. "And then he told me he knew about the... affair Dawson and I had and he got really angry and left. But it dawned on me... If he knew... maybe..."
Maddox stops and turns to face her. "He was our first suspect, you know." He walks over and takes a seat by Angela's bed. "We checked all the usual stuff, bank accounts, insurance policies, potential side relationships.... We found nothing."
"I never told anyone about Dawson. And I don't think he ever did either. I mean, it wasn’t even long before my backup that I ended it—"
"All right, well, in that case, I'll do some digging and see what I can find. Maybe there's something in the original evidence that I missed or that will make more sense now."
Angela nods. "Thank you."
Maddox looks at her, an odd expression held back but coming out through his eyes. One Angela can't place. He opens his mouth to speak but turns away. Then he looks at her again and nods. "I'll be in touch, Miss Bane."
***
Angela walks into Dr. Nolan's office and takes a seat. Nolan looks up for a split second and nods. "Sorry, I have some last minute notes to look over, I'll be right with you."
Angela smiles, sits back, and crosses her legs.
After a long few minutes, Dr. Nolan finally looks up at her with her full undivided attention, her face more cheerful than usual. "So I've been keeping up with your charts for the past few weeks and I'm pretty comfortable where things are going. How would y
ou feel about getting out of here, going back home?"
Angela sits up in her seat, grabs hold of the arm of the couch to steady herself.
"You'd still need to come and see me once a week and I'll be more than happy to give you my contact information in case of emergencies."
"Yeah... I mean... I was just waiting on internet, thinking—"
"Well, really, once you have access to the outside world like that, there's not going to be much point in keeping you out of it in the physical realm. You're going to have to move on with your life sooner or later and given your progress, I think now could be just that time."
"Um... home... About that..."
"There's nothing to worry about. From my understanding, Immortal Coil has kept up your lease and sends out a housekeeper at least once a week."
This is more than just news to Angela. It's a surprise she isn't quite ready for. She's come here with every intention of keeping what she found out about Jordan to herself. Keeping the affair to herself, but now she isn't sure she's making the right choice. "Well, okay, then. I didn't realize... I don't get it."
Dr. Nolan shrugs. "Perhaps someone extended your contract with ICL? Your father perhaps?"
Angela fights to hide the worry growing in her stomach. Maybe it had been her father after all. "I suppose either way, I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, huh?"
Dr. Nolan shakes her head and smiles. Then her expression immediately changes. "Oh, and I almost forgot. I spoke with that colleague I told you about and he said what you were telling me about isn't completely unheard of. The phenomena is often referred to as Dream Static because of how it first manifests in the patient. Sometimes the old brain tissue still retains bits of memories and upon reanimation, those synapses can connect and reincorporate with those that were backed up. It's really rare though but it sounds like you could actually be remembering some things."
Dream Static Page 3