Xenophobia-- Love the Fear

[City 997-- March 31st, 2050 3 PM]\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
City 997 Public University, Central Campus------------------------->
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It was another boring day of class at Uni for Tim. He wondered, for the umpteenth time, why they hadn't used a more inventive naming system for government organizations. Even the bad-ass projects like superluminal travel were delegated simply to "Project:" followed by a random hash-code. Why not name it something awesome, like, "Operation Terminatus" or something? The world may never know.

The bell rang, interrupting his reverie and signaling the end of class. That was the one good thing about today-- He had Corollary Metaphysics with Dr. Mendoza now. Dr. Mendoza was by far his favorite teacher, and then there was the fact that the class dealt mostly with technology recovered from the Devastation. In other words, they were working highly volatile, barely understood technology that was prone to cause instant epicness at a moment's notice. So between an awesome teacher and interesting curriculum, there wasn't a lot that Tim disliked about Corollary Metaphysics. He technically had a half-hour before the class started, but he was hoping to chat with the Doc before class, maybe even sneak a peak at his latest project.

A short time later, he arrived in the lab where Dr. Mendoza taught the class. Officially, it was taught in a small room on the other side of campus, but Doc always opted to teach in his personal lab both for convenience and because his lab contained better safety equipment. Tim knocked lightly on the door, and a few seconds later he heard the fumbling of keys in the lock before it swung open to reveal Dr. Mendoza, who wasted no time inviting him in.

"Come in, come in. I was just wondering when you would get here. I could use an extra pair of hands in the lab-- I'm trying to open up a piece of tech that the drones just retrieved from Australia, but all scans indicate that the panel in question needs to be lifted evenly out of position. If it tilts, the containment will destabilize and I would rather not find out what's being contained the hard way."

Tim nodded.

"Sounds like a good plan. Let me suit up and I'll be right over."

Without another word, Tim slipped into a modified pre-Devastation hazmat suit. It was standard procedure when dealing with potentially Tainted artifacts, and the suits had been reinforced to protect from the dangers of dealing with recovered techs. He then headed over to the Doc, who was already suited up and was examining the artifact on the examining table. It looked almost like an operating room, bright lights from above illuminating a stainless steel table, all bounded within a large plexiglass box to dampen any violent emissions.

Tim easily took his place opposite Doc and glanced down at the two magnetic grips that had been applied on his side of the device. Opening containment devices was always tricky-- The panel could be removed without disrupting the energy field inside, but it had to be held at the exact same orientation to the device until it was outside of the critical zone. If it was reoriented within the critical zone, the radiation it emitted would bombard the energy field unevenly, thus fueling the field more in one part than another, causing it to burst outward violently and release whatever was inside in a directed blast out the widest gap between the containment device and the plate. Often times, the released material was worse than the burst itself.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then reached for the grips and nodded to the Doc, who took hold of his a split second later.

"3... 2... 1... Lift."

Tim slowly lifted his side, matching Dr. Mendoza's rate perfectly. As they lifted, Tim spotted something that unnerved him.

"Doc, there's tubing still attached on your side."

Dr. Mendoza looked down and saw the black tube-like connection that was indeed still stretching from the plate back to the containment device proper. Tim was slightly alarmed by the situation: over 90% of accidents in the labs were related to un-severed tubing. Dr. Mendoza carefully released one hand and reached towards the tool tray.

"Ok, I'll just get the scalpel and slice through --"

And that was that. The Doc's hand dipped just a hair too much, and the containment chamber ruptured violently towards Tim, blasting him off his feet and through the plexiglass wall behind him. It was then that Tim recognized the glow that had sprayed at him-- low payload antimatter. The antimatter had coated his hazmat suit and reacted before he had even landed from the initial blast, engulfing him in pain before the world went dark.

Seemingly a short time later, Tim awoke. He was surrounded by those in his class who were more medically inclined, namely the girls if his memory served, but it was hard to tell with his vision as blurry as it was. Well, except for Naomi. A blind man could see her rack.

"Damn... How long have I been out?"

A blur of orangey-red swam in front of his vision, and a feminine voice responded.

"A little over an hour."

He recognized the voice-- Alicia. She was friendly enough, but she and Tim just didn't really hang in the same social circles. That wasn't to say that hadn't exchanged a handful of meaningful glances in the time they had known each other, but they never really became good friends. Tim squinted his eyes, and his vision began to focus.

"Fuck. Is the mess cleaned up?"

Timothy started to get up, but only got so far as sitting up in bed before he felt Alicia's hands restraining him.

"It's under control. Doc's still cleaning it up somewhat, but the whole class is helping him. You just need to rest."

Her hands felt cool on his bare chest. Wait... Bare chest? Heather, a girl who really was much more of a doctor than a scientist, saw his bewilderment and spoke up.

"Your hazmat suit was shredded, so we had to strip you down to your boxers in order to get at the injuries."

Naomi chipped in at this point, a playful tone in her voice.

"Don't worry, the Doc didn't let anyone peek. He seems very distraught about the whole thing."

So THAT'S why Alicia wouldn't let him get out of bed. He turned to her thankfully and mouthed a silent "thank-you." Alicia merely smirked at him.

He returned his attention to Doctor Mendoza, who he could see across the lab area, still cleaning up. He was about to call out to him, when the Doctor clutched his head suddenly, and fell limply to the ground, crunching amidst the broken glass.

"Doc!"

A male's voice rang out as Tim's own vision filled with a head-cracking violet flash. His hands flew to his head and he fell back in the bed. Alicia cried out in panic.

"What the hell? Tim! Tim!!"

The male's voice again.

"Shit... Shitshitshit. He's out cold guys. This is bad! REAL BAD!"

The last words sounded as if they were echoing down a well all the way to Tim's ears. He felt something in his wrist, but it was more of a vague sensation than any actual sense. Seconds later, something pressed against his neck uncomfortably, before withdrawing and releasing a shouted obscenity. He heard something, but he couldn't seem to make out the words... A female voice, and something about a pulse...

Wind whipped around the figure as it continued it’s walk up the large gates. Around him many home were deserted and destroyed. Taken back by the rich forest land that had once been in control of so much of the world. Much of the trash from these homes however remained but was as small as sand and so the tall figure continued on undaunted, it’s face covered by ballistic goggles and balaclava. It’s hood was up for extra protection around the neck. Finally it reached it’s destination at the tall metal gate in front of him. The eyes scanned the towering entrance and then leaned to the right pressing a lone button on the panel.

With a hiss the doors opened slowly allowing him to walk into an empty room. Void of any signs of life whatsoever. The doors behind him closed with a loud and reverberating thud. Leaving him in black for a few moments before the lights turned on. A voice came amplified into the room.

“State your name and purpose.”

The figured removed the goggles, hood and mask all in one motion. He shook out the unkempt black hair and looked up with at a revealed camera with a smile.

“Thanks for the quick entrance. You wouldn’t believe how windy it is out there.”

“It’s the outland. I believe it. What is your name and purpose.” Retorted the voice with less patience.

“Right you guys lost your humor eons ago. The name is Rick Davis sir. A good friend to your superiors.” Said Rick with his almost sing song voice.

“Ha. Try again tomorrow dreg.” Scoffed the voice before the doors behind Rick gave the same opening groan.

Rick stayed in his place as the doors behind him open. “Now my dear sir I had not even told you why I am such good friends with them. I am friends with them because I can find things. Valuable things. Like this.” And with that Rick reached into his bag as he pulled out a long silver tube.

The doors behind him stopped moving. A light moved and shined on Rick, though it was mostly directed at the tube.

“What is it?” Asked the voice, clearly intrigued.

“What your superiors wanted. That’s all someone in your position needs to know.”

A few moments of nothingness, just the sound of the harsh wind of the ruined landscaped behind him.

Then another groan as the door behind him closed and the one in front opened. It was a bright light, without the harsh wind of the other doors. It opened to reveal a world completely different from the one he had just left behind. With a tip of his imaginary hat to the camera Rick took off his coat and stuffed it the goggles and the mask into the bag. The tube he secured in a pocket in his pants and he was off into the bright clean city.





Sometime later….

A smashing of glass and a female scream. Two sights the people of the clean inner city were no use to. But there it was, two sounds that went hand in hand. What was even stranger was the figured that slowly made its way out of the glass. A man, whose chest, arms and legs were covered in the thinnest and sturdiest bullet proof armor made pre-Devastation. But underneath wore simple rags and patched together cloths. The figure landed on a unlucky snack cart and was up in an instant running away from the tall building he had just been thrown from.

“Oh crap oh crap-running running running.” Rick sung to himself for motivation. He did not bother to look behind him, he knew what was there. And he wouldn’t be surprised if it was every officer within 4 city blocks.

The landscape flashed by him, a almost comically misplaced white clean background to the kind of trouble he was in. To the kind of people he was in trouble with. But he couldn’t think about that now. He had to concentrate on getting the hell out of Dodge. Or in this case City 997. From there he knew the forest better than anyone of them. Hell, he LIVED in the outlands! Just a couple of months of hiding and they will forget all about him. Maybe his can take his business to another city. Oh crap. Rick thought his future plans be pushed aside by a truly unfortunate event.

Rick looked down a clear 40 foot drop with a building several yards away and down below a door way covered by cloth covered awning, and those shouts of pursuers were not far behind. Rick had to think fast and saw a food cart. More importantly he saw the tank for the grill. He quickly reached into his pockets and pulled out several pre-Devastation grenades.

“Shouldn’t you be running!” he shouted to the cart man before throwing them over to the cart. The man leap onto and through the near by fountain as the grenades landed by the tank. Rick turned to get a running start. The sounds of squeaking shoes told him that his pursuers were not turning tail. Rick made the run, and just as his feet pushed him from the ground the grenades exploded.

The force of the blast sent Rick several more yards, before crashing into the side of the building. Then he fell the last several feet onto the awning and rolled down and off with a thud. The figure did not move for several moments before a slow chuckle left his lips. He slowly got to his feet shaking his head, his sight was still blurry from the blast but his chuckling turned to full on laughter. The laughter of a mad man or a man who had just tempted fate. It was hard to tell.

“I can’t believe that actually worked!”

Suddenly her hear clicks all around him. His vision slowly cleared as he saw a full circle of various types of firearms pointed at him.

“Oh come on! After that,” Rick said point to the building behind him.” you have to let me go just out of respect I survived!

The guns moved a step closer. Rick raised his arms, “Alright…alright.” He said as he went to his knees. Suddenly his head was filled with a head cracking violet flash. Things got dark for Rick.

“Well isn’t that just the way….” Was his last thoughts before darkness.

A loud clinking like sound could be heard from a cluttered apartment on the fourth floor of a building. Robert was the person causing the noise, as he was currently chiseling away at a stone block. It seemed like marble, but Robert wasn't that rich. After several more minutes Robert placed the chisel on a nearby table with a sigh. Sculpting wasn't quite what he was looking for. It was too slow for his tastes. Granted, all art takes time, but sculpting was just annoyingly long.

Robert tossed his work clothes into a corner and after a quick shower in which he sang the Micky Mouse theme song incredibly loud he rummaged around in his closet for something to wear. He chose moderately tame clothes, but also put on a top hat and fake monocle to spice up his clothing. With that he departed his apartment, after all he did have a job to go to now. It was actually another attempt to see if he could find the right art form, and the specific job was the lighting director at a small theatre four or five blocks from his apartment. It was working out alright. Robert stepped out into the street just as it began to rain. A smile crossed his face as Robert broke into dance.

"I'm singing in the rain, just singing in the rain. What a wonderful feeling I'm ha-AH!" Robert was cut off mid sentence as he slipped in a puddle of rain and fell right on his ass. A few passersby rolled their eyes or snickered. Robert simply burst out laughing at his own clumsiness. After about a minute Robert once again set off to work. Not much else happened on the way to work other than Robert hugging three random people then buying a ham sandwich.

Robert walked into the theatre, immediately walking on top of the backs of the seats rather than in the isle. Robert plopped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth as he approached the technical director and gave her a curtly bow and tipped his top hat.

"Hellooooooooo, milady," Robert said, laughing as he finished.

"Hi, Robert." She replied, "First thing is first, I need you to check the lights, so either get rail to drop them down or go get a ladder.

"Kay," Robert responded, adding a jovial flick of his tongue. He was glad that his technical director actually was perfectly fine with his odd mannerisms. It made working much easier. First Robert headed up to the light booth and turned on work lights that lit the stage so he could see what he was doing, and soon after hollered to the person on rail to drop the lights down so he could work on them without having to drag a ladder out. As Robert got back to the stage he hollered to his assistant.

"Hey, can you grab me a red gel? I really didn't like how the orange was looking yesterday," Without saying a word, his assistant went into storage to rummage around for some red gels. Robert first started by working on light 16. It had been acting odd the last few rehearsals, and Robert really needed to figure out what was up with it. As soon as he had began screwing with the light there was a sudden flash of purple.

"What the f*ck?" Robert mumbled, holding his head as he realized he felt a headache starting, "I never put a purple gel on light 16." Soon after his headache suddenly exploded, becoming worse than before, Before Robert knew it he was tumbling to the floor, darkness enveloping him as his head flew towards light 17. Within another instant everything was black.

The day was quiet, which was exactly how James preferred it to be. He didn’t like to be crowded, or even to have to go out somewhere when he didn’t need to. Right now, he was enjoying the time of peace and serenity that was his and his brother’s apartment. He was in some black shorts and a simple black T-shirt. These were his lounging clothes, and in his hands he held a book labeled ‘Xeno-linguistics: A guide to understanding the unknown’. For one of his courses down at the university, he needed to be able to understand some of the alien tech that would be on display in the class room. Hopefully nothing would explode, and everybody would be happy. As James continued to read, he thoughtfully played with his nose ring, and only the sound of a door opening and closing brought him out of his deep thoughts. His brother, a good eight years older than him at thirty, had brought home some groceries so that they wouldn’t starve.

A lot of people claimed that he and his brother looked almost exactly alike, save for the piercings and tattoos that James had went and gotten applied to himself. John was a little more serious looking, and his hair was cut nearly into a crew cut. James forced himself up from the couch into the small kitchen to help put away the groceries. Nothing was said between the two brothers, but not because they didn’t get along, but because there was simply nothing to be said. They had been living alone with each other for such a long time that they had gotten a near telepathic sensing of the other person’s feelings. So, when James sensed that something was wrong, he stopped for a moment and looked at John. “Something the matter?”

John stopped dead in his tracks, and slowly put down the milk he had just been about to put away. With a small sigh, he looked out the window peering over the street below. “My job at the energy plant is at risk. Apparently they're trying to cut some hours, and if things keep going the way they are, I’ll end up without a job, and without a way to put you through college.” No bullshitting, no beating around the bush, and no reason to lie. That was the main rule between the two brothers, and had been one of the only things to remain standing through the years. James looked out the window as well, and continued to put away the groceries.

“I think you worry a little too much bro. They won’t let you go, you work too much and hard. They would have to hire three people to keep up with what you do.”

“Three people whose salaries won’t add up to mine. Don’t you get it? They could get three people for the same amount of money that they get me. That is my problem, and that is why I’m worried.” John continued to stare out the window. It was obvious he was stressed out, but there was nothing that James could do or say that would make it any better. James finished putting the groceries away, and leaned against the counter.

“Then we find you another job, and I’ll take one until you have a high enough salary to keep us both going. School can wait, survival can’t.” John simply shook his head at this suggestion.

“I don’t want you to end up like me. I want you to be able to choose what you want to do, and not end up doing a hard job where your position is always on the line thanks to some greedy bastard who wants quantity over quality.” John looked down, and sighed quietly. “No, we’ll get by. We always have.” James looked through the window, and nodded even though he didn’t agree. His brother gave everything for him, and he was just being a leech, sucking his life away from him. James stretched, and walked back to the couch to continue his book. His brother came and sat down on the reclining chair, and turned on the T.V. The news broadcast flashed on, and for once there was something more interesting than some guy got fired for being an idiot about something.

“Today there was excitement at the CSB, or City Security Building, as a mad man who had just come in from the wastelands attempted to escape from the local security forces. In his attempt to avoid the repercussions of the law, one man was injured by what looked to be several pre-devastation grenades.” The view changed to that of the injured cart man as he was sitting in the back of an ambulance with several bruises and cuts.

“I didn’t know what was going on, only that he yelled ‘shouldn’t you be running?’ and then there were grenades being thrown. It’s a damn good thing they caught him, he’s crazy!”

“The man was caught after a near suicidal leap to the next building. We will have more on this story as it progresses.”

“Well that should spice up life here, don’t you think John?” James asked, peering over the top of his book.

“Yeah, just another nutcase from the wastelands. They can stay out there for all I care.” James looked over at John, but knew that his anti-wasteland attitude had been with him since birth. Nothing he had said or done had changed his view on them, so he had simply given up. As James went to continue his book, he thought he noticed something. Suddenly, the T.V. flashed purple, and James felt light headed.

Last thing he saw was John looking scared, and running to where James had fallen to the floor.

[City 997-- March 31st, 2050 6 PM]\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
997 Medical: Emergency Room 12------------------------------------->
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"Alright, I'm calling it."

Tim vaguely registered these words, but failed to fully wrap his mind around them.

"Time of death... March 31st, 2050 at 6:19 PM. Severe cardiac arrest. Now come on, the rest of this flood is waiting. Maybe we can save at least one."

He managed to twist his lips into a frown. Time of death? That couldn't be right... He definitely wasn't dead. The very fact that he thought he wasn't dead was proof of that-- I think, therefore I am and all that jazz. But here he was pondering such deep topics, when he had some serious misconceptions to set straight.

He struggled into a sitting position as the door swung shut behind the last nurse. He definitely was NOT in the lab. What happened? First there was the accident, then he blacked out... But no, he remembered coming too in the lab. And then... He ended up here. At the hospital. And apparently, dead.

This day kept getting better and better.

He overheard a discussion in the hallway as two nurses passed by. Apparently, people all over the city had suddenly gone into cardiac arrest at about 5:10-- the hospital was absolutely packed with victims. To make matters worse, they had yet to find a survivor, and body-bags were running low. Jokingly, one nurse suggested mass cremation.

Tim swung his legs out of bed, and headed for the door as his vision finally cleared. He checked the hallway, no nurses. That was odd. He could have sworn they were just there... Nevertheless, he felt he needed to inform someone that he wasn't dead. If for no other reason than because being dead would look really bad on his grad school apps.

He heard a rhythmic roar from above him-- the sound of a helicopter landing. Were people just now getting in? So much for emergency medical transport... Shouted orders pierced through the thin roof of the hospital, and Tim heard dozens of feet jumping off the chopper. He couldn't help but wonder how they fit so many patients on there... It must be like some kind of clown car!

"Damn it this one ain't making it either. We have to move on to another."

Rick heard these words as clear as day. If his heart wasn't stopped he was sure it would have stopped.

"Time of death...March 31, 2050 at 6:32 pm. Same as the others. Let's move on to another. This day has been unbelievable."

Wait a minute, Rick thought as he tried to open his eyes. If I'm dead then why can I still think. Oh no...I hope heaven and hell are not real or else I will REALLY not like what's coming next.

The sound of the doors closing seemed to have triggered something in Rick. Suddenly his eyes opened and he sat up. He looked around. "Well....no heaven yet. And I'm not feeling hot. This is good I can deal with being a ghost. Or purgatory. That's good too." Slowly he got to his feet. Slowly moving to the doors where he heard the voices of the nurses outside.

However as he opened the door the voice stopped and the nurses were gone. Rick looked around slowly and began to slowly tip toe toward the door.

Wellllll if no one is going to stop me, I may just walk out and never show my face in this city again. He thought to himself. As he slowly made his way to the closest door.

Suddenly the sound of a chopper caused him to stop in his tracks. "I think my transport has arrived." As Rick through the door and began looking for a stair way he stopped dead in his tracks. Down the hall stood a young man the first person he saw in the hall.

Nora Ashling walked beside the towering white wall at a leisurely pace, vaguely aware of her destination. Bridge 997 loomed before her, the only connection between the rougher area where she and her family lived and the rest of City 997. Not a minute from the other side was Uni 997 and her next class, Corollary Metaphysics.

Corollary Metaphysics… Nora stopped in her tracks, fished in her pocket absented mindedly for a black felt-tipped pen. Her fingers closed around the plastic cap and she pulled the thin cylinder from her jeans. Settling for a bare patch on her right arm, she wrote ‘C.M.’ and, below it, Dr.Mendoza. The script was wonky and the letters mismatched, the ‘Dr.’ in ‘Dr. Mendoza’ much larger than any other part of it, but that was only because she was actually right handed. It didn’t matter. Even if it did look stupid, the point of it wasn’t neatness, but the very act of chronologizing her day. Nora wanted to remember all of it, though she wasn’t apt to tell why.

Done with that moment’s log, Nora slipped the pen back into her jeans- white, as was her entire outfit that afternoon- and tightened the knot of her grey-white skull cap. It was a habit of hers, no matter what Nora was doing there was always a shadow of fear that she might lose the hat, and she reached for its frayed ties nearly every time she came to a stop. The cap secure, though tied around her neck rather than on her head, she continued on at a slightly less subdued pace.

Though not in a huge hurry to get to class, Nora often arrived ten or twenty minutes late and still managed to get the gist, she couldn’t help being excited. This class centered mainly on pre-Devastation technology, one of her specialties, and Nora couldn’t wait to see what the drones had carried in. Every new artifact brought the world a little bit closer to being the way it was before, each one likely another thing to inscribe on her arm… The simple thought filled Nora with warm content.

Though Nora had barely noticed, the ground beneath her feet had quick morphed from the dirty black of Lower 997 streets to a crisp white. Now on the citie's bridge, Nora began to trail her small right hand along the smooth surface of the continued wall. Her arm raised a half foot above her head, she was careful to keep quiet, to take in everything around her. The heavy afternoon air, stubbornly holding onto what little heat it could find, the lively movements of the ants and tiny summer flies beneath her feet, frenzied in their quest to feed and protect their distant hills and holes, and, of course, the people. Some ignored each other completely; others smiled and raised a hand in greeting to those that also crossed Bridge 997. She didn’t like it, and it wall all normal.

Again, as she reached the end of the bridge, the ground changed. Pale concrete to muddled gray and black road. Here, though the street was lined with buildings, it was just the same. Nearly all, regardless of their level of attention, failed to meet other’s eyes.

They didn’t mean much of it, the things they said or did. Neither did she. Caught up in her own thoughts, her gaze devoted to the ants, several shouted greetings- from vendors or friends of her father mostly- went unnoticed. They- Nora and them- were all too…

Nora groaned, she couldn’t even keep to a train of thought today. Well, whatever they were, she knew they hadn’t been that way before the devastation. Before the taint, before all of humanity was forced into the Terran Union, before the Wastelands even existed… People had been happy, cared about each other. They must’ve, that’s what Wyatt had always told her and he was practically an expert.

Of course, she hadn’t seen her older brother in nearly two years, but…

But that didn’t make his words any less true. Nora knew what the pre-devastation world had really been like… Close to perfect, a certifiable Eden. Look just forty years in the past, and you would see a world free of hungry, of hate and of poverty. How could a society with such advanced technology not have been? Those who said otherwise, who claimed that the Terran Union had ushered in ‘an era of true peace;, just needed a reason to be content with the state of today. How else could you justify the world?

Nora wouldn’t let herself be like that, she knew parts of the old world remained on Earth… Something flashed. Someday, when she was done dreaming, she would find them… Bright purple filled her vision. University, Corollary Metaphysics, people like Dr.Mendoza, they were all she had to prepare herself… Nora looked up, towards where the gates of Uni 997 should’ve been, but all she could see was bright violet.
She fell.

****

Nora felt cool lament flooring beneath her. Like that of a school, or a cafeteria, or… A hospital.
She could feel people rushing about her, wind currents created by hurried bodies and airy scrubs. Though she felt the vibrations of their footsteps, she couldn’t move. It was like that foggy state between awakeness and sleep, she felt her limbs, her eye lids, but she couldn’t quite urge them too...

“Time of death March 31st, 2050, 6:33 PM.” Their tone was monotonous, impatient, like they’d said that a thousand times today.

“On to the next one then.” Another voice, clearly tired voice chimed in. The thick finger at her neck, something she hadn’t noticed until then, fell from her body. They must’ve been feeling for her pulse… Evidentially, they hadn’t found it.

Now was when someone else might’ve freak out, had a panic attack (if, in fact, they’d still been alive to hyperventilate), screamed. But Nora did none of these things. Instead, she was calm. Centered.

She wasn’t dead, she realized. She could feel the floor, hear a door swing on its hinges, smell that horrible, anti-septic stench people somehow associated with health. If she were dead… Well, she had no idea what it would be like. This was too familiar and left only one explanation. Somehow, someone who likely had years of medical experience, had gotten that one wrong. She was alive.

Sure of the idea, not wasting a moment with doubt, Nora propped herself up on her elbows and looked around. She was in a hall, surrounded by people. They were all on the ground, pass out… Or dead.

Nora swallowed uneasily, her certainty slightly shaken, and pulled her skull cap onto her head, over her short blonde curls. For a second time, she heard a door swivel open. Her eyes open, she could tell that it came from around a corner. Someone was here, awake!

She got to her feet quickly, barely pausing to avoid the bodies- she hated how she was forced to assume they were dead-, and eagerly rounded the hall. A nurse, a doctor, anyone- Nora’s mouth fell open in shock.

The faces, the people around the corner, one of them was familiar. Freckles, blonde hair…

Nora reached for a name and, through a logic few others would understand, didn’t wasting time with abbreviations. A deep whirling, the sound of helicopters, weakened the sound of her single word.

“Timothy?”

“Yet another one to add to the list. Time of death, March 31st, 6:35pm.”

“That can’t be right! He can’t be dead! What could possibly kill him?!”

“Look, Mr. Florence, I realize that you were very close to your brother, but he is not…”

“Shut the fuck up, and check it again! He is not dead!”

James was hearing this all, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to thrash, he wanted to do something to prove to everyone that he wasn’t dead; how could he possibly be dead when he was hearing everything as clear as day? He couldn’t see anything, his eyes refused to cooperate, but his ears were working just fine. James felt a pair of fingers up against his neck, and then once again on his wrist.

“There is no pulse Mr. Florence. Also, can you not see that he is not breathing?”

Not breathing? What the fuck?

“You’re wrong! I’ll do it myself!”

James felt a pair of fingers once more on his neck, but as they continued to hold there, he could feel the pressure being applied. His brother was trying to no avail, to prove that life still existed in his brother. James was frantic. He wanted to tell his brother he heard him, that he was still here among the living, but nothing happened. Finally, there were a couple sobs, and the fingers retracted from his neck.

“Escort him out nurse.”

The sobs continued but slowly started moving away from James. He tried with all of his strength to move even one finger, but nothing would move. What was this? Was this some sort of Hell? A Hell where you are trapped in your own dead body for eternity? James wanted to cry as well, but even that wouldn’t happen.

Suddenly, James eyes flew open. He had no idea why now they decided to work for him, but looking around he quickly found himself to be alone, or at least, the only one alive in the room. He was in a morgue of some sorts, and the bodies around him were covered in a cloth and purple due to the lack of oxygen and blood flowing through their bodies. Panic started to grip him as he sat up, the cloth sliding away from his bare chest. He felt his neck for a pulse, and to his relief, found one. How could he find one, but not the trained and educated doctor? Something was not making sense at all in this building. Looking over at a table, he found his clothes to be neatly folded on top. Sliding from the table, making sure no one would walk in on him naked, he quickly put on his casual gear.

The black shorts and shirt made him feel whole again. He was wearing clothes, and felt them, so how could he possible be dead? Sure, it wasn’t like he had died before, but he doubted this was how it would feel. Now, his brother had only walked out a moment before, so he had to find him down the hall somewhere. Running to the door, he quickly pried it open only to find the entire hallway completely void of bodies, alive or otherwise. How could that be possible? His brother and the doctor had only been talking just seconds ago? Or was it really just seconds? James shook his head to get these thoughts out of his head as he rubbed his nose ring thoughtfully. Alright, since this was obviously a portion of the twilight zone, he had to find some way to get back to civilization, find his brother, and find out what the hell happened between his passing out, and now.

Flipping a coin in his mind, James darted left, not bothering with taking it slow. His body felt fine, considering he had just been supposedly dead, and he wanted out like a homeless man wanted a donut. As he continued to run, he couldn’t help but notice the utter lack of people. There was no one in this entire building. There were no doctors, patients, nurses, or even dead people on tables save from the ones he had just seen in the morgue. This place was empty. As James continued to look to his left, he accidentally ran full on into someone. As they both tumbled head over heels due to the sheer force of James sprinting, James found himself slamming awkwardly against the opposite wall. As the blur from his vision slowly started to recede, the sounds of a helicopter could be heard. Helicopter meant people, and a quick way out. However, he had to first check out who he had just run into.

“Sorry man, I had no idea…” James finally got a good look at the man he had just hit, and his eyes widened in surprise slightly. “Wait a minute, aren’t you the guy who got captured by the cops today?”