Murmuration
“These,” Dr. Hester says, “are dates.”
Mike knows this. He’s figured that out already. He doesn’t know why this man, this fictitious person would know the same (of course, it could be his subconscious speaking, and Mike knows that what he knows, it would know).
“Dates,” he says, feeling a little sluggish now. Not as aware.
“Yes. Dates.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“I’ve seen them. Felt them. My wrist itched.”
“Did it? How fascinating.” He sounds rather breathless. “Oh, I have so many questions for you. But first things first. What are these dates?”
“April 22.” He pauses, trying to think. “1915. And May 20. In 1882.”
“And what do they mean?”
“I don’t know.” He’s fading again. It feels unnatural. Like he’s being forced down. “Sometimes, I’d remember them. And sometimes I wouldn’t.”
“And you’re Mike Frazier. And it’s 1954.”
“Yes. Where’s Sean?”
“Focus. I need you to focus.”
“I’m dreaming.”
“No. You’re not. This is real.”
“What do you know about schizophrenia?” Mike asks, and he doesn’t know why.
Dr. Hester’s eyes widen. “Where did you hear that?”
“Doc,” he says. “In Amorea. You’re not real.”
“I assure you I am.”
“You’re not real. None of this is real. They Came from Outer Space, or it’s the Reds and you’re experimenting on me, but none of this is real. You are ghosts. You aren’t here. Where’s Sean?”
“He’s fine. He’s safe. I need you to listen—”
“Did you hurt him?”
“No. I didn’t hurt him.”
“If you hurt him, I will fucking tear you apart. Nothing will ever stop me from tearing you apart. You can’t hurt him. You can’t.”
“You need to calm down. No one has hurt anybody. I need you to listen to me. Mike, are you listening?”
He wasn’t. He couldn’t. Things were going gray around the edges, and that low-level panic was starting to become something more. It was crawling through him, starting in his stomach and working up to constrict his lungs. “I want to go home,” he cries out. “Please, just send me home.”
“You are home,” Dr. Hester says, his grip on Mike’s wrist tightening. “Look. Look at me.”
Mike does, because he doesn’t know what else to do.
Dr. Hester says, “Your name isn’t Mike Frazier.”