False Reality

Chapter 2

T W O

      I JERKED UPWARDS in a panic, clenching what felt like silk between my fingers as sweat dripped brown my face. My eyes darted in every direction, bright lights burning my vision and making it impossible to take in my surroundings as I struggled for air.

      I tried to take a deep breath and pulled my knees to my chest. My eyes clenched shut as I tried to think. Breathe. One, two, three. Breathe. It was all I could do to keep from making my panic worse.

      After what felt like hours but was no doubt just a few minutes, the dizziness slowly started to dissipate and I found myself able to gather my thoughts. The soft fabric at my chest was soaked with sweat, but it was unfamiliar.

      Stretching out my stiff legs on the cot I laid on, I took in my attire. I was in a white, full body suit that hugged my figure like a glove. There was a large opening in the chest and stomach where little suction-cup looking monitors stuck to my skin. I followed the cords with my eyes to see the elaborate system behind me, only to follow a separate cord down to my arm where an IV was inserted into my vein.

      I glanced around, seeing the many other bodies attached to wires like myself beside me. My entire body was sore and stiff, like I'd been immobile for days on end. I tried to stretch out one of my arms after pulling out the IV, but dropped them to my sides as the muscles started to burn.

      Where am I?

      I huffed out an annoyed breath and plucked the remaining IV from my arm, swinging my feet over the edge of the small bed to get answers to the questions busing around in my mind. I placed my head in my hands as a dizzy spell washed over me. I could really use one of Travis' milkshakes he'd bring me in the mornings when he'd pick me up for school.

      Travis.

      Maybe I'd seen things wrong, maybe he hadn't been shot in the head. Or, maybe he had, and it was just removable? He could be fine. He had to be here.

      Ignoring my black tinted vision, I forced myself to stand and started my way through the several, seemingly dormant bodies. When my sight focused and it was no longer difficult to see, I gasped.

      Rows upon rows of hundreds of people dressed in white clothing similar to mine laid unconscious, IVs and those suctioned cords hooked to their bodies and temples. Fear consumed me at the thought of not being able to find Travis, Renee, or Wyatt. What if they weren't even here? I didn't know what I'd do if I turned out to be the only one who survived the attack.

      Shoving the thought aside, I started walking from person to person, people of all ages ranging from toddlers to seniors who looked dead already. After not finding any familiar faces within what felt like a half an hour, I started to jog, faster and faster, even after my legs burned like they'd pushed their limits and my lungs stung sharply with each breath.

      I lost count of the people I'd searched after reaching somewhere in the two hundreds—I ran for what had no doubt been hours of searching, finally pressed to the point of giving up. My cheeks were wet with tears as I slowed my pace and sunk on achy knees to the ground. My head rolled back in exhaustion, the blinding lights above making me wince through blurry vision as they occasionally flickered.

      I shivered as the lights flickered overhead, mentally scolding myself for letting Travis talk me into this. He knew I hated these things.

      "What?" he asked, staring at me in concern as I clawed at his sleeve. "Don't tell me your scared," was his grinning remark.

      "I'm not!" I argued confidently, prying my clammy hands from the soft, long-sleeved shirt to fist them at my sides. I refused to show him how big of a scaredy-cat I was, even if he had already known since we were four.

      He made a sound that showed he didn't believe me. I huffed.

      I considered making a comment about the clearly visible goosebumps on his arms, but felt guilty instead as I remembered I still had his jacket on. I opened my mouth to ask if he wanted it back, since this part of the haunted house wasn't as cold as the beginning, but shrieked instead as the lights completely shut off.

      Travis' loud and smug laughter filled the darkness as my hands found their way back to his sleeves. "I knew it."

      I was brought back to the present as my ears picked up a faint voice. Full of encouragement that it might be one of my friends and fear that it could be whoever tried to kill us, I pulled my aching body to standing with a wince. I dragged myself as quickly as I could to the muffled shouts until they became clearer—almost clear enough to understand—when they suddenly stopped.

      I slowed my pace and listened closely for any more sounds, my heart dropping when there were none. Desperate to not be alone and no longer caring whether it was a familiar face or a potential killer, I yelled out, "Hello?"

      I winced at the painful strain on my throat from what I assume was lack of use. As my rough voice echoed throughout the large building, I couldn't help but wonder just how long I'd been here. My hand rose to my chest as I realized there was no longer pain there, and I knew it'd had to be at least a few months; long enough for my wounds to heal.

      It didn't feel like a few months, though. The attack felt like it had happened just before I woke up. I remembered every detail, how I'd been shot in the chest and collapsed, watching through my tears as Travis tried to run to me and was shot himself. I remembered staring into cold, lifeless eyes as Renee and Wyatt screamed and took bullets of their own.

      I didn't want to remember. In fact, I didn't want this to be happening at all—for life to be going on around us, passing us by. It was agonizing to think about.

      "Carmen!"