He entered the lobby. The front door was in sight. Almost there. As Gabriel ran, his leg screamed in searing agony. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind and tried to focus on his goal. Instead of the gloomy corridors of Bright New Day, he pictured sailing across the blue ocean. The sunlight. The waves. The horizon.
Hands gripped him from behind. He twisted sideways, smashing his backpack into the pale face of the prison guard who was trying to hold him. The other two prison guards—no, not guards, nurses—toppled like dominos. He pushed onward, straight to the door. Frenzied voices screamed at him, but he ignored everything. Freedom was a few feet away.
His old motorcycle. Weaving between cars on the 405. The wind rushes through his hair…
He zeroed in on the bronze doorknob. He was almost there. He was Superman. He was— He fell.
Whether he’d been tackled or had simply tripped over his own feet, he didn’t know, and it really didn’t matter. Fiery pain exploded from every bone in his body. As he scrambled to get back on his feet, a dog pile of human bodies fell on top of him. They pinned him to the floor on his belly.
Standing on a stage. A stage in Sweden. Receiving the Nobel Prize. Everyone is cheering. A genius, a hero!
Gabriel went completely still, playing unconscious. The ploy worked. After a few moments, the nurses started to loosen their hold. He rose to his hands and knees, ready to lunge forward and crawl to the door if necessary. Then, he felt a hand on the side of his neck, rubbing cool gel into his skin. Hell. ABH. Ativan, Benadryl, Haldol. They got me with the goddamn ABH.
“No! You can’t do this to me. I’m Gabriel Schist!”
More hands grabbed his trench coat, yanking him away from the door. It felt like a swarm of zombies tearing at his flesh, like thousands of disembodied hands pulling him farther from his freedom.
Lying on the beach with Yvonne, naked. Her warm skin pressed against his. Their lips, sensually combining into a beautiful combination of…
Drowsiness was starting to set in. His stomach ached, and his hip felt like a shattered disco ball. Blood ran down his face. “Get away! You need me! I’m the only one with the cure.”
A warm stream trickled down his leg. He looked up at his attackers in horror. A myriad of tall, dark shadows with glowing eyes glared at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants. They all saw him. They all knew.
Standing in the corridor of Bright New Day… naked… completely naked… calling for Yvonne…
“Let me go.” Gabriel groaned, becoming increasingly drugged with every breath. “Please, I need to… I need to…”
As the ABH turned him into a pile of mush, Gabriel felt the peculiar sensation of his words becoming separate from him. His mouth continued to babble, but it was as if it belonged to someone else, a person who existed on a different plane of reality. Dark figures lifted him onto a stretcher and strapped him down. His vision dimmed, and the world disappeared into a blur of voices.
“Okay, that’s it. He’s out cold. We need to lock this guy up, pronto. We’re—”
“Wait. You don’t mean…?”
“Level Five. ASAP. A room just opened up today.”
“But that’s not fair! The guy is brilliant, just because of one incident you’re going to—”
“Schist has a history of these mental breaks. A room just opened on Level Five, and we’re taking him there.”
“But this is Gabriel Schist. This guy is working on a cure for—”
“Stop arguing, Harry. We’ve got orders.”
Gabriel felt himself being carried down the corridor. He tried to ask the one question that was eating him alive. “How… you knew… the alarm… how did you know?”
They seemed to slow a little. Gabriel struggled to open his eyes, but the lighting was too harsh. In the darkness behind his eyelids, somewhere in the cobwebs of his imagination, he imagined the toothy smile of Victor Calaca. He thought back to the alarm and remembered Calaca’s opposition to his plan. Calaca. That miserable traitor was the one who’d told them about the broken screen.
“Calaca. Victor Calaca. Is he the one who told you? He must have warned you… all of you.”
The same man who had insisted on taking Gabriel to Level Five asked, “Dude, who the hell is Victor Calaca?”
Gabriel strained to speak clearly. “A resident. Wears a tuxedo. West, I think?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry said softly. “But there’s nobody here named Victor Calaca.”
Gabriel’s heart dropped. If Calaca wasn’t real, then neither were the slugs. Michael was all in his head. All that talk of the Sky Amoeba, that had definitely been a hallucination. That much he knew for sure. And as they carried him into the locked Level Five unit—as the drugs, bodily injury, and horrifying revelations finally began to take their toll—he knew that he’d never be able to trust his perceptions of anything, not anything in the world, ever again.
There’s nobody here named Victor Calaca.
Nobody…
The heavy doors of the Level Five unit slammed shut behind him.
ACT III of III:
SUNDOWNING
“Science never solves a problem without creating ten more.”
George Bernard Shaw
Chapter 43:
Sky
Spring 1992
Gabriel walked along the famous Hermosa Beach Strand, whistling a tune that was somewhere between “Happy Birthday” and “Pop Goes the Weasel.” He wore a half-open blue Hawaiian shirt, black shorts, and flip flops. The sand was as golden and sparkling as the sun itself, and the dark shadows of late afternoon were just beginning to sketch their outlines upon its surface. The ocean glistened like a diamond-studded blanket. Despite the beautiful weather, the Strand was occupied by fewer walkers, joggers, bicyclists, and skaters than usual.
His cigarette twitched between his fingers, and he accidentally burnt himself. He couldn’t remember ever being so anxious. Even standing up on that stage in Sweden had been easier than what he was about to do.
“The end of the Hermosa Pier,” she’d said over the phone. “Right at the end. That’s where we’ll meet you!”
Stomach fluttering, he walked to the pier, a long grey pathway jutting out into the ocean. He looked at every face, dreading the moment when he’d see the faces he was looking for. He wasn’t ready. He just knew he’d say the wrong thing or that he’d be too stiff and robotic. He’d gotten better at interacting with people, but he still had a long way to go.
Finally, the end of the pier came into sight. Yvonne was nowhere to be seen. He’d arrived first.
Gabriel stepped up to the railing and leaned his head back. He closed his eyes, unable to believe the day had finally come. He was finally going to meet his daughter. Gabriel opened his eyes and smiled at a seagull perched next to him. It cocked its head, nervously stepping away. He checked his watch. They were late.
Yvonne had been hesitant to allow the meeting. He knew she worried that he might not be as sober as he claimed. But the public unveiling of the Schist vaccine had sealed the deal. She’d even allowed him to talk to Melanie over the phone a few times, though the interactions had been little more than awkward small talk. He hoped seeing her in person would be different. He wanted to form a real connection with his daughter, to plant roots from which a relationship could grow.
Gabriel turned and looked back down the pier. They had arrived.
Yvonne was wearing a turquoise beach wrap, much like the one she’d worn on the first day they met. The white of her teeth glistened in the sun as she gave him that giant smile that could make a man’s heart stop. “Gabriel!”
As he raised his hand to return her wave, something snapped back into place. That horrible, teary last moment they’d shared vanished from his memory, and he felt as if a piece of his heart had been restored.
