Awake Read online

  I wasn't sure. Thinking back to my time in the military, when this bizarre power first manifested, I could remember that much of what happened and the development of those abilities was based on intuition.

  And now, what was coming to my mind, was that I could find Lynne if I concentrated; if these portals created some kind of quantum signature, my mind should be able to pick up on them.

  That seemed like a good idea to me, so I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind. I wasn't sure exactly what I'd be thinking of, but what I did was picture Lynne in my mind, and cleared it of everything else.

  For a few moments, nothing happened, and I was about to give up when I started to hear...something, in my mind. It was a kind of sound, but one I hadn't ever heard before, so it's impossible to describe it. It was faint as well, but I noticed as I moved around, it grew louder or quieter, depending on the direction I was facing.

  It was some sort of beacon.

  That was enough for me. I closed my eyes, focused on the beacon, and opened a portal to it.

  When I emerged, I found myself in a room. It looked familiar to me; it looked like one of the interrogation rooms that Thomas had held me in.

  Sitting at a table in the room was Lynne; standing in front of her was Thomas.

  They both gaped at me.

  “Charles!” Lynne cried. Her hands were behind her, handcuffed to the chair.

  Thomas turned to me, grinning. “Mr. Matheson, how nice of you to join us, and spare me the trouble of having to track you down...again.”

  “Hello, Jeff. Looks like you're up to your old tricks again. Think I'm just going to take Lynne out, now.”

  “I don't think so, Charles. This is a special room. It's filled with a gas that is undetectable, but has an interesting effect on people like you: it blocks neural activity so, no jumping.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.” Thomas took a seat at the table. Lynne looked apologetically at me; I'm sorry, she said with her eyes. “We've had many years to study what you can do, Charles, and we know how to stop it, too. Your friend here, don't you think she would have escaped by now if it were possible?”

  I walked over to Lynne and put my hand on her shoulder. “I believe she would have. But now I'm here. How about you give me the key to her cuffs and we'll be on our way.”

  He laughed. “Oh, sure,” and tossed them at me. “There you go.” He quickly pulled out a handgun and trained it at my face. “Have at it! Can you get her out of her and uncuffed before I can put a bullet in your brain?”

  I grabbed the keys while keeping my hand on Lynne's shoulder. “Time to find out,” I said.

  We jumped.

  * * *

  We emerged in a wooded area – despite the return of my memories, I wasn't clearly remembering the landscape of this world. It had been 20 years since I last lived here.

  We emerged with Lynne still cuffed to her chair and a baffled look on her face.

  I quickly unlocked the handcuffs and she stood, rubbing her wrists. “How...how did you do that?”

  “Do what? Portal jump?”

  “Yes!” she exclaimed. “He wasn't lying about the gas. I kept trying to get away but it didn't work.”

  “I'm not sure. He tried something like that on me years ago, some kind of chemical injection that was supposed to do the same thing. It didn't work.”

  She reached out and hugged me. “That's incredible! And thank you for coming to get me. How'd you know where to find me?”

  “I was able to...well, hone in on you, I guess. It was like there was a beacon in my mind and I was able to follow it to you.”

  “You're full of surprises, Charles. Are we safe here?”

  I glanced around. “We should be, for now. Do you have a place to go? A safe house, maybe? I could take you there.”

  “I do,” she said, “and I would appreciate it if you could take me. But I need to see Melissa...”

  “Lynne, something happened. I think Thomas got to her and wiped her memory.”

  “Bastard!” she cried. “How? How do you know?”

  “I went to see her. She claimed to not recognize me, said you were dead.”

  “Why is he doing this?” she exclaimed. “This man, Thomas, I don't understand his...obsession.”

  I sighed. “It's a long story, but he's been angry with me for 20 years, and he's blamed the death of his family on me. And now he's determined to take me out, and anyone who's worked with me.”

  “Can you take me to my safe house? I need to sit down and have a drink. I'd take us there but the gas is still effecting my own abilities.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Just imagine it, picture it in your head.”

  She closed her eyes. “Okay, I am thinking about it.”

  I closed my eyes and touched her shoulder, and we emerged in her safe house. I was getting better at arriving at these destinations; I put us right in front of the living room.

  It was a small flat, really just a large room with a small kitchen area, a few pieces of furniture, a bed, and a single door that probably lead to the bathroom.

  She looked around the room and nodded. “How do you do this? You didn't know where this place was, did you?”

  We both took a seat at the couch. “No, I didn't know where it was, but I could read it in your mind.”

  “You can read minds, too?”

  I laughed. “No, but when you were imagining this place, it still set off that part of your brain that lets you jump, and with that I could zero in on here, kind of like a form of GPS...I think. I don't always understand how this power works.”

  “There doesn't seem to be any limit to what you can do,” she said. “It's pretty amazing.”

  “It's something,” I said. “You're sure you'll be safe here?”

  “I should be, unless Thomas and his men can track you when you jump.”

  “They can't,” I said. “I can block out any kind of...evidence that I've jumped.”

  “What happens next?”

  “I need to stop Thomas, somehow. I'm not sure how to do that yet I probably will need some help.”

  Lynne touched my hand. “You'll get as much help as you need. And Melissa will help you, if we can figure out how to restore her memory.”

  “I think I can help with that,” I said.

  “Can you? That doesn't surprise me,” Lynne said.

  “No? It surprises me,” I said. “But it feels right. I'm not sure exactly how I'll do it, but I know I can. Will Thomas and his men be watching her, do you think?”

  “Probably,” Lynne replied. “I'm sure they have tracking satellites watching everything that happens there.”

  “From the outside, sure,” I said.

  “And from the inside. They could have cameras installed throughout that building and in her apartment.”

  “So we'd need to get her away from that building before trying anything.”

  Lynne nodded. “That would be the safest bet, unless they are monitoring by some other way.”

  Now that was a pleasant thought. “It's possible,” I said. “I'll figure something out.”

  Lynne looked at me. “I hope so, our little group hasn't had much luck.”

  “I think between all of us, we'll put a stop to whatever Thomas has up his sleeve,” I said. “Before I go see Melissa, I'm going to try and see if I can learn anything about what Thomas is doing, or planning.”

  “How would you do that?” Lynne asked.

  “I have a way,” I said. “I'll return as soon as I can.”

  With that, I jumped.

  I put myself into the portal that allowed me to observe the world unseen and emerged in the building Thomas worked at; I didn't want to just pop up into his office, in the event he had some way of detecting me. I didn't think he could, but it would be better to be cautious.

  I wandered around the offices, trying to get a feel for what the agents were up to; for the most part they seemed to be engaged in mundane tasks, and I didn't see my na
me or the names of any of my friends listed in any kind of database – at least not the kind these agents were working on.

  On occasion they would look up, as if they could sense I was there; at these moments I would pause, although I knew they couldn't see me. My presence may have been stimulating some sort of sense that registered me, but it didn't seem likely to me. In those moments the person would look up from what they were doing, glance around, and return to their work.

  After several minutes I started to relax; no alarms had been raised. It did occur to me that Thomas may have relegated information about me to his inner-cadre; I wasn't sure where those people were located.

  It wasn't long, though, before I did find the agents assigned to me.

  They were all housed on the second floor, and it was a noticeably different environment there.

  Walking through that floor, I saw photos of myself on a dozen computer monitors; other agents were looking over file folders, scanning through documents.

  A few times I saw the word “terrorist” in the documentation; it looked like Thomas may have been trying a different tactic.

  There was talk of security measures; apparently the whole building was pumped with the gas that was supposed to prevent me from using my abilities, with assurances that the agents would not suffer any ill effects from breathing in this gas.

  I paused at the desk of a young female agent; she was reading a bulletin issued by the man himself; Jeff Thomas went to great lengths to describe me as “dangerous” and “powerful” and a “terrorist leader” and a “traitor.”

  I wondered what these agents would do if I were to just materialize in front of them?

  I had explored the entire floor without seeing Thomas, or finding out where his office was. I knew where I had seen him before, but I didn't think that was the place he spent most of his time.

  I was about to leave when I passed the computer monitor of an agent who had helpfully left his or her computer station unlocked. On the screen was a memo from Thomas, detailing his office hours and, most helpful to me, his office location (basement), including a security code for the elevator.

  I wouldn't need that code, but I put it to memory in case it would come in handy later.

  I headed down to the basement, still not entirely comfortable with the fact that I was passing through concrete and steel; it was disconcerting, to say the least.

  The basement area was essentially empty; there were a few desks scattered here and there, but not much of anything else. The floor was steel plated for some reason.

  Towards the rear of the basement was the door to Thomas' office; there was a simple sign that read J. THOMAS, DIRECTOR.

  It was a steel door with no window to peer through, so I wasn't sure if he was there or not. I passed through the door and into the office.

  I was in luck; Thomas was there, at his desk, staring at his computer monitor.

  It was a pretty large office, with many bookshelves, crammed with legal tomes and other scholarly works; there were two large file cabinets (both were open). The walls were bare with the exception of a framed diploma, showing Thomas as having a graduate degree in public policy.

  I should have noticed the man in the office with Thomas; if I had, I would have realized he was staring at me.

  When I did finally notice I stopped; could this man see me? Or sense me, somehow? I knew Thomas had portal jumpers on his team with various abilities, and it was possible this person knew I was in the room.

  If he did, he wasn't acting on it; after a few moments I moved towards the desk, with the man's eyes seemingly on me. Wouldn't he tell Thomas?

  It seemed he wouldn't; maybe I was being paranoid. I wandered over to Thomas and stood behind him, inches away. He was composing a memo to Ed Johnson, and Thomas wasn't a happy fellow; he was giving Johnson a written ass-chewing, including a threat to have the man reduced in rank. Did Thomas have that kind of power? Perhaps he did. Johnson was in hot water for not keeping me prisoner.

  “The subject should have been drugged and detained...Major Thomas did not follow established protocol in apprehending target...threat to national security...” there were other choice words for Johnson.

  As I scanned the memo the other man abruptly said, “Something's wrong, boss.”

  “What?” Thomas asked.

  “I think he's here, in the building.”

  Thomas' eyes opened wide. “Matheson, here? Are you sure? The alarm should have gone off!”

  My heartbeat quickened; I stepped back.

  “I'm not sure why it didn't go off, boss, but he's here.”

  “Can you pinpoint where?” Thomas asked. As he did he activated the headset he was wearing. “Red alert, code alpha, repeat code alpha, this is not a drill.” A siren blared.

  “I'm trying,” the man with Thomas said. “It's like I'm getting his signal, and then it fades out, and then comes back in again...I can't say precisely where he might be.”

  I was relieved that, at least, he wasn't aware that I was standing a few feet behind him.

  Thomas stood; from inside his sports coat he produced a handgun. “Can you narrow it down at all?”

  The man paused; as I was standing behind him I couldn't see his face, but I imagined he was closing his eyes to concentrate. After a moment he said, “no, sir, I can't, but he's still here.”

  “Let's go,” Thomas said. The two of them left the room, passing me by.

  I took that opportunity to leave, disappointed that I hadn't learned more.

  * * *

  I had a home in this world, but for the life of me I couldn't remember where; but after 20 years, I couldn't imagine that it was still my home. I did have a home in a different world, and I thought I'd go there and try to think about what to do next.

  Moments later I was home; it was cool inside, and I grabbed a drink from the refrigerator. Everything looked like how I had left it, and a quick look through my photographs showed nothing weird there.

  Sitting on my couch, I was tempted to just leave things as they were.

  It was hard enough coping with the return of so many lost memories, but to have to deal with my former friend and his apparent descent into a kind of obsessive madness was a hard pill to swallow.

  You could change all of this, a voice in my mind whispered.

  Yes, I could. Just dash into the past and work my magic there.

  Despite my protests as a young man, doing so now held a certain allure.

  I was in an insane situation, with a power that was alternately exhilarating and frightening.

  There would be no peace while Jeff Thomas and his men pursued me and the other individuals with this ability.

  Could a simple change in the past take care of this whole situation?

  It probably would, but what would that mean for my reality now? If I were to, say, go back and make sure that Thomas had remained paralyzed following our crash during the war, would I be in the same situation I was in now? Or what if I went further back and prevented him from entering the military in the first place?

  It would probably mean that all the memories I had of Melissa and our life together would be gone, since the change in the past would erase the fact that I had met her here, in this world.

  That would be the tradeoff, it seemed; if I were to change the past, and stop Jeff Thomas, it would mean destroying something precious to me.

  I couldn't do it.

  I'd have to deal with Thomas now.

  Still, a part of me longed to have Melissa back in my life.

  You could have her, that voice in my mind whispered again.

  Yes, I could. Go back, stop Thomas or his men from killing her. She'd be sitting next to me now.

  But that also felt wrong; if I were successful in stopping her murder, wouldn't the people involved just try again?

  They probably would. Meaning once again Thomas would have to be removed from this equation in the past, and I wasn't about to do that.

  I sighed and took a
drink of my soda. Time travel was exhausting; so was thinking about it.

  Back to the original question: how to stop him.

  I wished I could understand his anger; it would help to know why he was as driven as he was, but I wasn't sure I could find that out.

  You could send him somewhere, my mind spoke up.

  I could. But where? Thomas couldn't jump, so I'd just have to find a place to...put him where he couldn't be found. Where one of his men couldn't track him down.

  As I thought of this, an image came to my mind: a portal that didn't open anywhere. Like opening a door, only to find another door, and after opening that door, another door, and so on.

  That seemed pretty harsh to me; did the punishment fit the crime?

  Yes, it did.

  He had taken the life of my wife, either directly or at his command.

  He was harassing and possibly torturing innocent individuals, all because they had a bizarre power they didn't understand.

  What I really needed to do was to find out just how involved he was in Melissa's death.

  That seems like a dangerous distraction, a different part of my mind spoke up.

  Maybe. Maybe it was. But I had to know.

  If you go back, you'll just want to save her, my mind whispered.

  I would want to save her, but I also knew that it didn't matter; I was beginning to understand that changing the past didn't necessarily fix anything.

  Even when Jeff Thomas had managed to send one of his guys back in time to change things, he and I still ended up being shot down during the war.

  I suspected that he could have sent a dozen men back a dozen different times to fix things, and the outcome would still be the same.

  Could I deal with losing Melissa a dozen times over?

  Obviously I couldn't. But I had to know what happened to her, no matter how much it hurt.

  I got up from the couch and wandered over to one of the bookshelves to look at our wedding portrait.

  We both looked very happy, as most newlyweds do, but Melissa looked absolutely radiant, and the eye was drawn to her in this photograph.

  Dressed in traditional white, though the two of us had lived together a few years before getting married.

  Part of me still ached for those days, back before all of this craziness that had engulfed my life, back before I had any memory of this insane, almost godlike power to do...what, exactly? Bend time and space to my will? Something like that.