Hunted

Chapter 11: Mars Station

Haley was aware in a different way than he had ever been before. His senses seemed to function, but what they sensed was interpreted in a new manner. All the little aches and pains his body knew, the background noise of sore muscles and age, were forgotten, as was the fading stiffness in his shoulder. He was free from flesh and bone.

Around him was a silver-gray mist, a shroud like a driving summer rain that masked all. But some part of his mind seemed to understand the vague shapes and outlines in the distance, and although there still was a significant amount of disorientation, he felt he knew his way. He was being called home.

Progress was blissfully slow, as he soared in great curving paths. Such freedom of mind and body he had never known. But a small black seed was planted somewhere deep within him, and like a deep-rooted weed it started to grow and then spread quickly, trying to blot out all else.

Straight now he flew, racing against this thing that he feared might overwhelm him and swallow him up. Confusion spread as his memories started to regain their focus and the mystery of the silver-gray mist now troubled and frightened him more with each passing instant.

Just before the blackness overtook all, he thought he had found his desired destination. He raced down, down, and once fuzzy shapes became more distinct and real. A huge city beckoned, and he passed through its gates with ease. In that city was light and wonder and, something inside him whispered, peace. Finally, reality bursts back upon him like an explosion, and the silver-gray mist through which he traveled— that had distorted all — was gone.

Haley celebrated his reentry into the physical universe by throwing up. He rested on shaking hands and knees, panting hard but trying to draw deep breaths to calm himself. Beside him, he glimpsed movement.

He weakly turned his head and saw another man, one dressed in rags and in sore need of a shower. In his hands the man clutched a bottle of green liquid. He looked at Haley as if he had seen a ghost. As the man struggled to his feet, he glanced from Haley to the bottle. Giving the bottle one last sad, loving look, he tossed it aside and staggered away.

Haley had no idea where on Earth he was, but even the dirty, trash-strewn alley he was in seemed to him a welcoming, warm place. The black device had trickled from his hand, and he now retrieved it, studying it with new respect. It had done what he had hoped, taking him away from the deadly planet and somehow bringing him home.

He crawled a few feet and propped himself against the alley wall to pass time until his quaking limbs settled. The assassins' entrance into Morris's office and his own escape now made a great deal more sense, and if he could get the device to the police, he might have a much more credible story now that he could explain what it did. The gun and alcohol they had found in his locker had a possible explanation as well.

Feeling his strength returning, he slowly stood with the help of the wall and slid the device back into his pocket. He took a step and stopped, thinking. It would be best if he could get to the police on his own, not be captured, as it would surely make him look more cooperative if he turned himself in— even more important, since he had been in hiding for several days. He would need to proceed cautiously, and do his best to keep out of sight.

At the opening of the alley he peered out onto the main street. It was bustling with activity, a long, wide thoroughfare filled with shops and restaurants, many with gaudy lights blazing in an effort to draw a crowd. And there, just above him, was a sign:

WELCOME TO MARS STATION

Haley slowly stepped back into the alley. He hadn't made it home after all, only gotten close, and that only on a galactic scale. The gates and lights he remembered from his altered state were indeed real, hazy visions of where he was arriving. He looked up and laughed quietly, seeing the curve of the huge dome that he had managed not to notice.