Final Life: Book One in the Transhuman Chronicles
CHAPTER SEVEN
My eyes opened to a dim fluorescent light overhead. I blinked, confused about my whereabouts, my brain fuzzy and stuck on slow motion. After a few seconds, I began to make out my surroundings. I lay on a bed in a room with white walls, the smell of hand sanitizer and alcohol overpowering me.
I was in a hospital room. But what was I doing here?
Mom and Dad sat across from me on a small blue couch, leaning on each other. They were fast asleep. I studied them for the first time in a long while. Mom and I looked exactly alike, except for the eyes. Hers were bright green while mine were olive-colored. Dad's eyes were also bright green, but instead of brown hair like me and mom, his was a dirty blonde.
I wanted to yell at them, wake them up, find out what I was doing here. But my brain wasn’t connecting with my mouth.
After a moment, I sensed someone at my side—Farrell. He sat in a chair very close to my bed. His bloodshot eyes and messy hair sent a panic through me. What had happened? And why was Farrell here? Fear cascaded throughout my body.
"You’ve been in the hospital for two days with a concussion," Farrell said. "But you’re okay now."
What? Then, like a switch being flipped, memories flooded my awareness. I remembered Infiniti, the Ouija board, the mist, the explosion and the white light. My eyes grew large. I tried to sit up, but Farrell grabbed my shoulders and held me down.
"It’s coming for me! It’s coming for me!" I yelled so hard my throat hurt. "Let me go!"
Mom and Dad jumped up and rushed over to me, their hands now on my arms, too. "Dominique, it’s okay," Dad said. "Nobody is coming for you."
"You’re safe now," Farrell added.
Farrell’s words penetrated through. I was safe now? How could he know unless— "You…," I muttered, "You were there, weren’t you?" I recalled the image of his face in front of mine, surrounded by the bright white light. "It was all…real?"
He nodded.
"Oh, my God," I whispered. "What happened?" Tears filled my eyes and slipped out onto my cheeks because I knew, without a doubt, that I was crazy.
Mom wiped them away. "Dominique, we’ll tell you everything, but not here. You’re being released tomorrow. We can talk then. Okay?"
We? So they knew what had happened, too? I bit my lip, trying not to come completely unglued. And then, Farrell took my hands. A warm peace filled me.
"You’re safe," he said. "I’m right here."
I’m right here… He had said those words to me before. But where? And when? "Just rest," he added.
He kept his hands wrapped around mine while I drifted back to sleep.