Book II - ch 20: The Terror of Waking Life

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Having cried until her eyes hurt and she couldn’t properly draw a breath, Sarah lingered in the garden still. Despite the tree that reminded her of home, the perpetually empty garden she was so fond of and Pegasus were inextricably linked in her mind.

More tears emerged from her puffy eyes. She was surprised she still had any tears left. She struggled to draw a deep breath, the mix of crying and suffocating incapacitating her for a few terrifying seconds. Her head was pounding. The horrible crushing feeling where her heart should be hadn’t subsided in the least.

She could still clearly remember the first time Pegasus had brought her there to look at the trees and eat cold pizza. A hand clasped over her mouth, holding back a sob as if her silence mattered. These plants and these walls were well acquainted with her grief.

Minutes turned to hours as a procession of memories, both happy and painful, waded their way through her pain. That time when he finally told her his name, the look in his eyes right before he kissed her, and the sadness when she pushed him away…

She should have talked to him, should have tried explaining even though she didn’t have an explanation. She should have told him how she felt. There was no way she didn’t know how much he meant to her, so why couldn’t she say it? What was her fear worth now?

Exhausted both in mind and body, Sarah wandered back to her room in a daze, feeling like a ghost condemned to haunt the empty halls. A long, warm shower abated some of the tension in her muscles. She didn’t bother drying her hair before dressing and collapsing onto her bed.

She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to do anything, really. But she recognized the familiar trap; she’d been through it before with her parents, then Robyn.

Forcing herself to walk over before she could change her mind, she dialed up Unicorn’s room. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes as she waited for an answer.

A drop of water from her wet hair ran down her forearm, leaving a cold trail to her wrist. She rubbed her wrist, trying to reproduce the pattern Pegasus had drawn there so many times before.

Failing to reach Unicorn, she followed the momentum and called up Cypher’s station. She was mildly surprised when his wasn’t the voice to greet her.

“What?” Michael asked.

“Are we busy? I’m trying to get a hold of Unicorn.”

“I guess you’re out of the loop. Griffon’s team got called out just now. They got Hawk to take your place.”

“And who else?” Did it even matter? Her voice almost failed her. “In Pegasus’ place?”

Michael snorted with laughter. “Pegasus.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“If Pegasus promised you some time today, you can kick him for it later.” He laughed again. “I gotta go. I’ll let you know when they finish.”

Unable to say anything else before he ended the call, Sarah stood motionless and unblinking, water and tears dripping at her feet.

Dare she hope?

Had it been a dream?

Cold churned in her stomach.

It was more likely that this was the dream. After all, the bad things were real.

She needed proof. Anything that would have been left over from the last mission.

She ran to the hamper, tossing the pile of dirty clothes onto the floor. She tossed the uniforms against the wall. They all looked the same. How many had been there before?

That wouldn’t help with telling the dream apart from reality.

Stolen novel; please report.

The image of Pegasus, his eyes closed and dark blood pooling beneath his head, intruded into her thoughts. It tugged at her insides, dragging forth the despair she recognized so well.

She pressed the palm of her free hand against her forehead as if she could make the image go away.

Should she stay there and wait until she woke up? Or, if this was not the dream, until she was sure she wouldn’t wake?

This couldn’t be real, could it?

The waiting silence offered no reply.

More tears started clouding her vision.

She was moving before she’d taken a proper breath, tripping on the clothes hamper and almost falling to the floor.

Please let it be real.

Trembling hands struggled with the doorknob for a second before she headed to the intercom instead.

She focused on the rhythm of her breaths, trying to stop crying. Testing her voice to see if she could pretend to sound normal, she called up Comm again. Her hand was shaking so bad, she almost got the numbers wrong.

The seconds became a horrible eternity, wasting away in a silence that was only broken by her own rapid breathing. There was no answer.

That was odd.

Her heart sunk.

Had that talk with Michael not been real?

She dialed again, furiously hitting the numbers. Again, what followed was silence—such long silence that she had to cover her mouth to make sure she didn’t make a sound.

Maybe everyone was busy. Should she go upstairs in person?

She was about to give up when November answered this time. Were they rotating through the letters of the alphabet?

“Where’s Pegasus?” she blurted out. Hopefully, she managed not to sound as if she were having a panic attack. “Sorry, it’s not an emergency, it’s just…” I’m losing my mind and the little bit of sanity I have left hinges on whether he’s alive. “Could you tell me where I could find Pegasus?”

“Right now, on his way to the hostage thing,” November said.

Sarah hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. She almost laughed. He was alive.

Flooded with relief, it took her brain a moment to process what she’d heard. Whatever happiness she felt was obliterated the next instant and relief was nowhere to be found. Fear squeezed her insides and it was all she could do to speak. “What hostage thing?”

Other voices, including Michael’s, intruded with urgency in the background.

“Who are you talking to?” she heard Michael ask.

November quickly apologized to her and said goodbye.

Hostages…

Was this one of those repeat dreams?

It couldn’t be the hostage situation at the department store near the airport. It definitely couldn’t be that same day—could it?

Trapped between hopefulness and fear of being disappointed, Sarah wanted to talk to someone in person.

She quickly washed her face, but there was no way she’d pass as normal. Hopefully, she wouldn’t trigger any weirdness alerts.

Her flip-flops clacking along as she raced down the hallway, she didn’t stop running until Cypher’s station came into view.

Something was obviously going on. Cypher was nowhere to be seen, and Michael was busy talking to several people.

There were no open stations from where she could log into the system and look at recent mission logs. She wouldn’t have access to that from her room. Catching November’s attention when he looked up from his screen, Sarah approached him.

“Where’s Cypher?” she asked before anyone could question what she was doing there.

November looked at her funny. It was probably the puffy, bloodshot eyes that betrayed she’d been crying. She held his gaze. Crying wasn’t some horrible offense, much less anything to be embarrassed about at the moment.

“He’s out with Griffon’s team.”

“And you said they were looking into the hostage situation at a department store?” She surprised herself with how calm she sounded.

November nodded, probably not realizing he hadn’t said anything about a department store over the com.

Anxiousness scratched at her chest.

If this was one of those weird recurring dreams where things weren’t quite the same but were, what was she to do?

She couldn’t go through it again, couldn’t have Pegasus be alive and lose him again. And without even seeing him… That would be too cruel. Did her mind hate her?

But if not a dream, what was the alternative she was hoping for? That she was getting some sort of do-over?

November was still staring at her. “Are you okay?”

“Near the airport?” she asked.

November frowned. “How did you know?”

She shrugged it off, hoping it looked natural. “I think I heard something on the way up.”

“Phoenix?” Michael asked. “Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, tried to smile. Telling them she’d had a nightmare about Pegasus probably wouldn’t help. “When did they leave?”

“Some minutes ago,” Michael said, handing a tablet to November. “We’re really busy. If it’s not urgent, you should come back later.”

She backed away with a wave, no longer able to hold the fake smile.

How much of a coincidence could it be?

Or was her mind playing one giant trick on her, filling in the blanks with the details as they were given to her now, pretending they matched the nightmare? She shivered at the familiarity of the thought, but still that didn’t help her with the growing sick feeling devouring her insides.

She could try contacting the team but she didn’t even know what she would say. Would she tell them there were five terrorists instead of the three inside? Would she tell them Pegasus shouldn’t chase one down on his own? It wasn’t as if anyone would believe she’d gotten some mystery intel from somewhere that she wouldn’t be able to produce as evidence.

And how sure was she?

It’s not like she trusted herself at this point.

Still, she couldn’t stand by and do nothing if there was even a miniscule chance that this was the same day.

She hadn’t realized where she was going until the elevator opened to let her out at the garage level.

What else could she do?

A miniscule chance was still a chance.