MONDAY, OCT. 22
My phone buzzed at 6:30 a.m. Rachel kicked me in the ass. I
rolled over and managed to hit the right button. “Hello? Uh—”
“Russell’s dead.” Jolene’s voice
sounded lifeless too.
Oh no. I lurched up. “What? I
mean . . . what?”
“He wasn’t . . . he wouldn’t wake
up.” She sniffled. “I couldn’t wake him up. And he wasn’t breathing . . .”
We sat in silence for 10 seconds.
Finally I managed a question: “What do the doctors say?”
“A cerebral . . . thing? Just like that old woman in the
park. I don’t know. I had to call his parents, my mother, and then . . .” She
sobbed.
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t think of
anything to say.
“I have to . . .” She blew her
nose. “Sorry. There’s all this stuff to do. Just send me your bill.”
Bill? Right. “Look, we’re square.
I’m going to keep checking this out—”
“Do whatever you want. I can’t . .
.” Jolene hung up.
“Wha . . .?” Rachel rolled over.
“What’s going on?”
“Russell’s dead.” I stood on shaky
legs. “Same thing as the woman in the park. Goddamn it.”
“Oh, no.” Rachel clutched my
shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I grabbed some sweatpants. “I need
coffee.”
I sat at my computer, trying to
think of what to do now. Damn it!
Rachel came up behind me. “You
okay?”
“Not really.” I drummed my fingers
on the desk. Maybe I should have done something different. Maybe I could have
saved him. I closed my eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this at all. “I should
have been an accountant. Like my mom and dad wanted.”
“You’re lousy with math.” She
punched my shoulder. “Hey, I think they’re
hiring down at McDonald’s. All you’d have to do is push buttons. Want to go?”
All I’d have to ask was You want
to supersize that? My mother would be so proud.
“Not yet.” I picked up my phone to
call the clinic.
“So what do I do?”
“Come here
tonight around 9 p.m.,” Reid said over the phone. “Bring whatever you need to
sleep comfortably.” He chuckled. “Some of our patients bring stuffed animals.
Anyway, you’ll lie down in a sleep room and we’ll attach some monitors to your
head, and you’ll be given a mild sedative to help you sleep. Then we’ll monitor
your brain wave activity throughout the night, and in the morning you can go
home. We’ll analyze the results and call you.”
“Will there
be anyone there?”
“Yes, we
have staff on hand throughout the night. If you need anything, or decide to
leave, someone will help you.”
Nuts. That
meant I wouldn’t be able to poke around. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight.”
Rachel
wasn’t happy.
“Are you
crazy?” She didn’t even punch me, so I knew she was mad. “This is as stupid as
sticking your hand into a jar of flesh-eating fungus—oh wait, you did that. I
forgot who I was talking to. Are you nuts?”
“First, I’m
not going to take any sedative.” We were eating dinner—meatless burgers and
salad. “And I’m not going to stay there all night. There’ll be people around,
so I can’t snoop as much as I want, but maybe I’ll get an idea about whether
they’re up to anything.”
“I should
go instead of you.” She bit into her burger. “I could pick up something,
maybe.”
I shook my
head. “It’s too dangerous—”
Now she
slugged me. “See what I mean?”
“Ow.” I’ve
faced vampires and demons, but Rachel has a meaner punch than any of them. “I
just meant—”
“Fine.
Whatever. I’m going to watch all of Daredevil and tell you every single
spoiler. Jerk.” She looked at my plate. “Are you going to eat the rest of your
salad?”
I pushed it
over. “Knock your socks off.”
Rachel’s
phone buzzed. “Hey, Gary, what’s up?” She put it on speaker. “Tom’s here.”
“Hi, Rachel,
hi, Tom.” Gary had a friendly voice. “I took a look at that sleep machine. It
looks fine—I mean, I’m not an expert on that kind of tech, but I didn’t find
anything out of the ordinary for a sound system. The one thing was that there’s
an extra stream on each of the tracks, just under the white noise.”
“Like
something subliminal?” I looked at Rachel.
“Maybe.”
Gary coughed. “The stream itself is short, about 30 seconds, but it repeats
over and over again. Maybe it’s nothing. I mean, this is supposed to help you
sleep, right?”
“That’s
what they say.” I nodded. “Thanks, Gary. Send me a bill.”
“Nah, it’s
a favor for you guys. I’ll bring it back tonight.”
“Thanks.”
Rachel hung up. “Nice guy.”
I didn’t
say anything. I didn’t want another fight before heading to the sleep clinic.
Terri walked me down the hall to one of the sleep labs. She
was just as cute as before, even with the ring through her nostril.
Inside the lab a wall of
electronics loomed over a hospital bed. “There’s a restroom over there.” She
pointed to a door. “Did you bring any pajamas? If you like, there are gowns in
that drawer.”
“Just a
book.” I set a copy of Infinite Jest on a table next to the bed and put
my phone on top of it.
“I’ll let
you change and get comfortable.” She smiled.
“Uh, wait.”
I leaned against the edge of the bed. “Are those—cameras?”
Lenses
pointed down from three corners of the room.
Terri
nodded reassuringly. “We just need to watch your sleep behavior. Don’t worry,
it’s all completely confidential.”
I’d signed
some forms. “Okay. I just . . . you know . . . roll over a lot.”
Terri giggled.
“That’s fine. It’s not like I watch them. Just the doctors.”
So I got undressed, except for my
boxers and socks, and tied a hospital gown around my neck and waist. Then I sat
down on the bed, nervous. It was like waiting for surgery. Or worse.
After ten
minutes I heard a knock on the door. “Come in!”
It was
Terri again. She carried a tray with a pitcher of water and a small paper cup
with a pink pill. “Are you comfortable?”
I
pulled blanket up. “Uh, I guess so.”
“All right.” She set the tray down on
a nearby table and started sorting through strings of wires. “I need you to
pull everything down to your waist.”
Okay. I pushed the blanket back
down.
Her hands skimmed across my forehead
and scalp as she plugged in the wires, one by one. “These are long enough for
you to get to the restroom, if you need to,” she told me. “Just be careful not
to pull any of them off. If you do, you can probably push them back on, but if
you lose more than one or two, call me. Or whoever’s on duty. I go home at midnight.”
She lifted a typical call-button device that dangled over the side of the bed.
The door opened again. “Everything
okay here, Terri?”
“Just finishing up, Dr. Usher.” She
attached a final wire to my chest. “There. All done.” She patted my arm. “You
okay?”
“Just fine. Thanks, Terri.”
“Sure thing. Just one thing more .
. .” She bent down next to the computer wall. “This will help you sleep. It’s
called the Nyx. The latest model.”
She pressed a purple button. This
Nyx was as big as a microwave oven, with black sides all around. “There we go.
Sleep well.”
“Thanks.” I vaguely heard wind and waves
in my ears. I rubbed my eyes. I had to stay awake.
Usher pointed at my phone. “We
discourage patients from looking at screens before they go to sleep.”
“That’s
just in case my girlfriend calls.” I patted my book. “This one puts me to sleep
in 15 minutes.”
He nodded.
“I’ve tried that book three times. Never got past the first chapter.”
“It’s just
you and her?” I rubbed my head cautiously.
“Terri’s
off at 10:30, but there’ll be another staffer working. And I’ll be here all
night. Napping, like you.” Then he picked up the pitcher and poured water into
a tall plastic cup. “This will help you sleep.”
“What is
it?” I picked up the pill.
“A mild
sedative. Not habit forming. Just to help you relax.” He smiled.
I popped
the pill into my mouth. And under my tongue. Then I took a long gulp of cold
water. It tasted funny. Would Usher check under my tongue to make sure I’d
actually swallowed the pill? They did that Orange is the New Black.
But Usher
was at the computers, pushing buttons and adjusting dials. “All right.” He
stepped back. “I’m going to turn down the lights. Try to relax and get some
sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks.” I
laid back. “Say good night to Terri, okay?”
He grinned.
“Sleep well.”
I closed my
eyes. Keeping the pill under my tongue was harder than I’d expected—and I kept
wondering how much of it was dissolving into my bloodstream anyway.
After a few
minutes I rolled onto my side and spit the pill out onto the pillow. Then I
spent ten minutes breathing shallowly, thinking about Rachel. I actually
drifted off . . .
A pinprick of light stabbed my eyes. I tried to blink. What
the—?
A spidery
shape dropped down toward my face. I couldn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t move as
it wrapped its long thin legs around my head. My scalp, my ears, my neck, my
throat, my cheeks . . . my eyes.
Don’t
fight, said a voice inside my head. Let us come. Relax and let us come.
Me: “Who
are you? What are you? What do you want?”
We are
seshai.
Me: “What—what
does that mean? Where do you come from? What are you doing?”
Let us
come.
I tried to scream. But the spider
legs were deep down inside my throat, cutting off my air. I choked. No. No!
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