Floating in your dreams has such a distinct feeling to it. The ground just melts below you and the sky just lifts you up. This time it feels like I have wings. The world moves in a blur below me. The endless roads and forests and towns pass by one after another. The cool wind feels amazing. I drift along. I'm with a flock of birds I think.
There’s a loud sound. Everything is spinning. My wings are gone. I’m falling, falling, I can feel the ground reaching up to for me.
I jolt awake.
I’m in a white room with a big window. I think, I think I’m in a hospital. The morning sun peaks through the corner of the window creating a blinding patch of light right where my eyes are. I try to move my head a little bit to the side, but it hurts. I can see that my legs are both in casts, one of my arms too. I can’t move much.
I feel like there should have been a doctor to see me by now. It feels like an eternity. Maybe it’s just been five minutes. I can’t see a clock anywhere.
I know hours must have passed by now. I’ve been hearing sirens every few minutes, and I heard them what must be hundreds of times. I hear lots of noise outside, people bustling past.
I drift in an out of conciousness.
“Is this her?”
“Yeah, they found her way out from the wreckage. Crazy it’s her that survived, right?”
“And with the fall, I can’t even imagine”
I’m in a room with 3 people. They’re laughing, talking and cheering. I think they’re my friends, but I can’t quite make out their faces. I’m tall and then I’m short again. I’m holding a pillow and then the pillow is a dog and then I’m dancing.
I’m riding in a car now. The highway is empty and our car speeds through the forests. We’re above the water now. I stare out the window at the lakes as we go by.
I’m driving now. I think I’m driving home, but the signs on the interstate are the wrong color. They’re grey, like the ones by the airport and I can’t figure out which turns I’m supposed to make. Wait, I think I’m supposed to go left. I swerve.
The car is climbing up the bridge. There’s traffic again. We’re moving so fast. The bridge is gone now. There is nothing but water. It’s cold. I can feel myself scrambling throwing myself against something.
I sit up in bed.
I’m in a different room this time. The walls are still white, but everything looks older, more dingy. There’s an old clock on the wall. It says its 3:42, but I can’t tell if that’s AM or PM.
Time passes, it’s 4 and then 5. The door opens. A woman, a nurse I think, walks in.
“Hi there,” she says.
“H…hi” I try to talk, but I can only manage a whisper.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“Confused, tired, I think. Where am I?”
“You were in an accident earlier today. You’re in a hospital. We’re going to take care of you,” She looks at the IV bags at the head of the bed, and writes something on a clipboard.
I feel dizzy. Everything gets sort of hazy. The nurse is gone now. It’s 7, 8, 9 o’clock. I stare at the yellowing ceiling tiles. Eventually I start to feel tired.
“Okay, can you repeat that one more time just to be sure?”
“Drivers license number 8-2-1-4-5-4-0.”
“Looks like there’s some kind of mixup in the system. I’ll need to talk with my manager, can I get your callback number?”
I’m in a city. It’s late at night, but the streetlights are glaring brightly. Rain begins to pour from the sky. I’m trying to find something, somewhere but I can’t quite remember what it is.
My phone rings. I pull it up to my face and answer.
“Hello? Hello??”
There’s no one there. Wait, there’s a faint sound like humming. Then suddenly the line goes dead with a beep. The lights flicker and dim. The rain turns to snow or sleet falling from the sky. A haze covers everything.
A fog horn blasts in my hears. I turn to face the sound. A massive ship crashes through the city. It towers above me barreling forwards. The buildings crack up and fall around it like ice.
The fog horn blasts again.
I’m in a different room this time. I’m still in a bed. Is this a hospital too? It doesn’t feel quite like one. For a minute I can’t put my hand on why. It just doesn’t quite smell like a hospital. It looks almost the same, four white walls, and industrial looking door.
I hear a metallic click and then another, a beep and then the door opens. Two figures wearing lab coats and badges enter the room.
The older one steps towards the bed.
“Good morning Haley. It’s Haley Calder, right?” she asks
“That’s right. Wha-”
“Do you know where you are?” her tone is more serious.
“No, I…I was in a hospital room and then I slept and I woke up in another room, and then I slept again and now I’m here. They said I was in an accident?”
The younger of the two figures begins writing on a clipboard.
“Fascinating,” the older one says half to herself, “And is there anything else you can remember from the past three days?”
“Not really, it’s just a blur. Can you-”
“Anything at all?”
“Well I’ve been having weird dreams at night.”
Her eyes widen a little, “Could you describe these dreams?”
“I think in the first one I was flying, and then falling? I know that’s not much”
“Please continue” the younger one scribbles notes.
“I think next I was in a car driving, and then the night after that I was in a city and there was a ship.”
“Can you please tell me more about the ship, was there something it was doing?”
“I think, I think it was crashing.”
“Thank you Haley, you’ve been extremely helpful,” she turns to leave.
“Wait, I answered your questions, can you at least tell me what’s going on?”
“I..We don’t know that quite yet.” The younger one follows her as the exit.
How long has it even been? Have I really been here three days? Three weeks? Three months? Am I crazy? Is this an asylum? Hours pass, a man in a grey jumpsuit enters with a plate of food. He leaves it for me without speaking a word. I ignore the food for a while, but eventually I get hungry at eat.
There’s no window on the door or in the room. The door is locked and doesn’t budge. I bang on it. I scream for help, but no one answers. Eventually I give up. I pace back and forth for what feels like hours. I start to feel tired again. I lay down and close my eyes.
I’m running through a street. I’m in a suburb of identical houses. The sky is a menacing gray green color. A hot wind blows through my hair. A car speeds past me. I’m running and running but I barely feel my feet move.
I hear thunder in the distance and then something else, a humming, rumbling noise growing louder and louder. A helicopter flies towards me low to the ground. Suddenly I’m standing on the roof of a house. The houses stretch out as far as I can see. The wind is getting stronger. The helicopter lands in the street next to me. Figures in riot gear jump rush into the street. The wind is even stronger now. The figures are struggling to walk against it, but somehow I’m still standing.
Lighting strikes. Again, and gain. Rain pours from the skies. The roof of a house rips up and floats away. There’s an earsplitting screeching noise as the helicopter scrapes against the pavement. The figures are gesturing to each other. They raise their weapons. There’s no time to run. Bullets pierce my body shooting trails of blood through the wind, but I don’t feel anything. Thunder claps. The figures and their helicopter crash against a house. Trees fall, houses crumble, the wind is stronger and stronger.
Termination of subject 4734 has failed. All 12 individuals involved with the operation have been reported as casualties. More accurate data may be available upon recovery of bodies and aircraft wreckage.
Despite the tragedy, we feel that this represents a significant step towards mitigation of 4734. With the improvements to the predictive model developed by Dr. Briea and her lab, 4737’s origin point was determined 12 minutes prior to event start. We believe that with further research, we may be able to mobilize a larger response force, or potentially issue evacuations prior to 4734 events.