When I woke the next morning, it was still dark outside and even the therapy horses hadn't yet roused themselves for day. I clambered out of the death-trap bed, wrapped a robe around myself, and shuffled over to the window. I nearly tripped over the wheelchair I was forced to use and kicked it weakly out of the way. Barely visible over the small hill which separated the patient bedrooms and the staffs' cabins, I could see a young woman leaving her room. She smoothed her skirts and walked along the sidewalk which led all the way around to the other end of the Psyche ward. I guessed she was the nurse whom Dr. Aldersyde had spoken of, coming to fetch me. I should get dressed.
Slowly, I slid my boxers and tee-shirt off of my shivering frame and squeezed into a pair of old jeans my mother had sent me in the mail when she heard I was staying here indefinitely. I was not allowed to do my daily mile-or-so jog in the morning as I had done for years, and I could feel my body weakening significantly, especially the waistline. When I had a turtleneck and vest on me, I sat on my bed quietly, fingers toying with a plush keychain I had ripped from my purse the day they took me.
I miss him.
The thought washed over me with a wave of uneasiness, and my fingers paused. At first I thought of Martin, which was expected, I suppose, seeing as I had been seeing him pretty exclusively before the attacks. But his face did not fit the shadowy image in my mind. Frowning, I tried to think of who it was until suddenly, I realized.
Jack. The name escaped my lips in the form of a sigh, and I pummeled my temples with my fists. I can't deal with that now. Concentration, I reminded myself, concentration. And yet, the thought of his haggard voice shouting my name before I fell into unconsciousness was emblazoned in my memory. With an abrupt screech, the bedroom door swung open and the young nurse jumped to see I was already awake, dressed, and waiting patiently on my bed.
"Good morning," she stammered, recomposing herself. I stared at her blankly before shaking myself out of the daze I had fallen into. "If you're all ready, I can go ahead and take you to Dr. Aldersyde, if you like." I stood up and nodded before reaching for my wheelchair. "Dr. Aldersyde says you won't be needing that today, unless you think you require it."
Pausing in surprise, I pushed it behind me and gave the girl a look as if to say, you've got to be kidding me. She smiled and indicated for me to follow her. We exited my room, and I turned to the left automatically as I had done for the past six months. However, I stopped when I realized she was going in a different direction.
"We'll be going to the right today, Miss Spade," she said gently before taking my arm with a light hand and swiveling me down the right hallway. When we had reached the end of the passage and pushed open the Exit Only door where the hall terminated, I realized why I had never gone down this way before. I stepped out of the hall and, feeling the moist chill of morning seep into my clothes, and halted to hear the soft swishing of tails and occasional nicker of thirteen therapy horses in their stalls.
"What are we…?" I began hesitantly. Suddenly, I saw Dr. Aldersyde appear from the inside of the barn with knee-high riding boots over his blue jeans. In his hands were a pair of riding chaps and a helmet. I backed away. "Oh….no." He smiled and walked over to where I was standing safely on the other side of the paddock fence.
"Good morning," he greeted me with a knowing expression, "are you ready for your first session of treatment, Sam?" I looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"Doctor, when you said 'advanced therapy' yesterday, I had something in mind like whitewashed walls and analysis of my past. Not," I eyed the stalls suspiciously. "horseback riding." He laughed and opened the gate to the paddock, forcing me inside.
"Sam," he said in a suddenly quiet voice that made me shiver. "Please understand that if you'd like to back away from this idea, if it's too much…" I inhaled deeply and shook my head.
"I'm sick, Doc," I whispered, shuddering as the words, now spoken, seemed to actualize the truth, "I'll do whatever it takes. Even…horseback riding." He chuckled lightly and helped me to climb over the fence.
"How does it feel?" Dr. Aldersyde asked as we walked towards the barn. I turned and frowned at his inquiry.
"What?" I responded, leaning against the stall door to zip up the chaps he had handed me.
"Admitting to something you can't control." Dr. Aldersyde smiled thoughtfully before disappearing into the shadow of the barn. I stared blankly after him before grabbing the stubborn zipper stuck at my thigh and pulling it upwards. I yelped, however, and my eyes watered as I felt my skin pinch against its cold metal. The nurse fixed it quickly and removed the white coat she wore, revealing a pair of riding pants and a sweater.
"Have you ever ridden before, Miss Spade?" She asked politely, taking my arm and leading me through rows and rows of empty stalls, each with a corresponding saddle and bridle hanging from a post outside their doors. I shrugged.
"I used to ride when I was little," I murmured, running my hands over the worn leather of each saddle as I passed them. "Don't anymore. I had to sell my horse when I got my first…" Job. I swallowed and the nurse knew not to press me anymore.
Finally, we reached the other end of the barn which opened up into a wide, spanning landscape that made me gasp. It was raw beauty, to give it the credit it deserved. As far as I could see, long grass and tall, ancient trees loomed wet and dewy in the morning light. Not a soul seemed to be within two-hundred acres of the barn except for me, Dr. Aldersyde, and the nurse. I had to brush away a layer of moisture which had accumulated surprisingly along my eyelashes. There was something about this place which I had seen before.
"What are you thinking?" Dr. Aldersyde asked. I shrugged and shook my head wordlessly.
"It's beautiful," I whispered lamely. I strained to identify the memory with the strange familiarity which was somehow associated with the scene. I pursed my lips too obviously, and he noticed.
"Sam?"
"Nothing," I shrugged again, "It's nothing. I just…it looks sort of familiar to me, that's all." He frowned and nodded to the nurse who discreetly scribbled something down in a notebook. Their eyes bore too eagerly into the back of my head and I quickly turned to the small group of horses gathered around a mound of hay.
"Pick one," Dr. Aldersyde suggested, already laying a saddle pad over the back of a short, fat pony. "They're all very gentle, I assure you." I examined the rest of them and glanced eye to eye with a tall, bay gelding. I lifted its according saddle from its peg and walked over to the horse with a deep breath.
"Do you need help?" Dr. Aldersyde asked, sliding the bit of his bridle into his pony's mouth. I shook my head secured the saddle and bridle into place on the animal. Dr. Aldersyde trotted over to me and squinted out into the fog.
"Let's just take it slow today," he decided with a hint of uneasiness in his voice. I swung my leg over the horse's back and felt a familiar rush of adrenaline I remembered as a kid tingle through me. "Shall we try a brisk walk over to the—" Suddenly, I spurred the horse into motion and galloped away from the poor doctor. "—brook."
I could feel the astonished eyes following me as I sped faster and faster over the terrain. My stomach was filled with a light, airy feeling that I embraced as the smooth rocking motion beneath me lengthened as the horse stretched its stride. I steered it upwards onto a plateau-like surface atop the hill before turning around and staring, out of breath, back at the distance I had traveled. My chest was heaving in exhilaration as Dr. Aldersyde finally caught up to me on his short, little pony.
"Right," he breathed, cheeks bright pink. "Well, glad you enjoyed that. It's good you're moving about…I thought maybe we'd have to perform this on foot…" He looked over his shoulder and past me, and I frowned. His brow, I noticed from years of observation, was tense and beaded with sweat. He was hiding something. My hand lifted unconsciously to my gun holster which I remembered with a wave of discomfort wasn't there.
"Dr. Aldersyde, what's going on?" I asked in a low, wary voice. His eyes turned back to face me, and I noticed his pupils had shrunk to pinpricks in their blue settings. "Dr. Aldersyde…"
"Listen, Sam," he explained in a hushed voice. "I told you this wouldn't be easy, didn't I? I told you when it got to be too much to tell me, didn't I? I warned you that the time span you were hoping for was nearly impossible, didn't I?" I tried to speak but he cut me off. "I've never done this before, Sam. Never have. It's something that even the institute doesn't yet approve of, but what experiments we've carried out with this method, it can be the most effective." He paused. "However, direct confrontation poses a fatality rate that we haven't quite smoothed out…"
"Dr. Aldersyde, what the hell is going on?" I repeated intensely. It was too quiet for this time of morning. I heard no birds, no voices, just silence.
"Oh, shit," he whispered, hands shaking. "I should have called it off. I should have stopped it…this isn't right…this isn't moral…"
Then, it all happened at once.
I felt an impossibly strong blow sweep me from my seat as the horse started and galloped away. Dr. Aldersyde had disappeared, horse and all, and I was left alone on the wet grass. A soft thud by my head caused me to whip around and see what had fallen. A small, silver revolver lay nestled in the grass and I grabbed it instinctively, trying to ignore the disabling confusion which was clouding my mind. I threw myself to the side as a large stone was hurled toward me, and scrambled to my feet.
"Get up," a rough, terrifying voice growled menacingly. I held the gun tightly in my nearly expert fingers and aimed forward. I looked forward and was greeted by the round mouth of a pistol pointed directly toward me.
"What the hell…?" I hissed, searching around for Dr. Aldersyde, though I knew I wouldn't find him. Suddenly, a phrase he had stuttered before the attack flashed back through my mind. Direct confrontation poses a fatality rate that we haven't quite smoothed out…Direct confrontation. I almost smirked at the thought that the horses were the most I'd be dealing with today. The man seemed to be waiting for my move, and I rotated my head slightly to get a glimpse of the face of the attacker. Of course, it was hidden by a ski mask.
Then, I kicked out and the man recoiled in pain. I ran in the opposite direction to where I saw my horse grazing in the nearby patch of grass. I could hear the man's heavy footfalls chasing me as I leapt from a large stone onto the animal's back. However, the man's footfalls quickened drastically, and I turned to see he was miraculously on horseback as well. I spurred the animal faster and hugged to the wet land as best as I could as I rounded a curve. He followed. I twisted in a difficult weaving pattern of figure eights and spirals until I could not hear him behind me anymore. Finally, when I had reached an open area of field and I felt the evident danger was less, I slowed and turned around, gun aimed before me. No one was there.
I sagged in relief. What the hell was this? I thought as my chest heaved in exhaustion. I patted the animal briskly and slumped my shoulders as my breathing slowed. Where was the doctor? It was over; I had won.
"Doctor Alder—" The breath was knocked out of me as a body collided with mine from above. The attacker had dropped from a tree above me and had wrestled me off the rearing horse and onto the ground. He reached for my neck and I punched as hard as I could between his legs. He flinched and for a moment, his grasp lessened and I took advantage of the weakness. I struck out against the back of his neck, at his pressure point, but he caught my wrist with a wide hand. He forced me to the ground with incredible strength and pinned me against the wet grass. I whimpered as he raised his fist to hit my stomach. I could see the whites of his eyes and suddenly lurched forward, slipping the revolver from my belt with lightning speed and aiming it between his eyes. He froze and I toppled him backwards.
"Bastard," I panted breathlessly. I pressed the mouth of the gun into his head and pressed the trigger with my thumb. However, a sudden wave of nausea spread through me. Dizziness caused a black shadow to cut in around my vision. Shoot. My hands were sweating. What the hell? Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. I told myself desperately. The man was not moving, but I felt as if I was falling backwards. A strange whistling echoed through my ears which was disgustingly familiar. The day they came. The nausea. I remembered the nausea. I thought I had been drunk the day before, but it was different. This was different. Shootshootshootshootshoot… I chanted feebly. The gun fell from my hands, and the attacker whipped off his mask. I barely recognized one of the men who had taken me the day after my final collapse before I fell into unconsciousness.
They told me the next morning the last thing I had whispered was a single word.
Jack.