Hexad: The Ward (19 page)

Then she remembered. It was because it wasn't her wardrobe, not really, just as it wasn't her Dale, and Peter wasn't quite the Peter she knew.

How am I going to get home? Where is home? When is home?

Lost but Found

37 Years Future

Amanda shuffled back into the dormitory with the other women when it was time. They hardly needed to be told — for the majority of them it was so much a part of their routine that they moved on auto-pilot, the same as her.

The incident in the rec room was all but forgotten by the rest of the women, but something had finally stirred inside of Amanda. She'd been lost for so long, unaware of what was happening, unaware of who she really was. It was the only way to cope.

As her meds were lowered, Amanda had a catastrophic reaction to the reality she was imprisoned within and had seizures — the lies she had been indoctrinated with simply didn't hold once she experienced life without severe medication and her brain crumpled under the onslaught.

That was weeks ago, and since then she had been dosed up to the eyeballs, just as many Amandas before her had been and continued to be. Some coped better than others, able to believe the lies they were told, the subtle and not-so-subtle manipulations of their minds under hypnosis that allowed them to convince themselves they were ill and weren't simply imprisoned in a madhouse full of unfortunate Amandas taken from their own realities and used as food for the machines.

Since her brief foray into reality she had been stuck deep down — partially through a potent chemical cocktail and partially through her own thoughts retreating far away from anything that could risk the tenuous strands of reality still clinging to hope at the dark recesses of her mind.

Amanda undressed numbly, muttering about cats and windows, unaware she had said anything at all.

Soon it was lights out and the women were silent — no noise was to be tolerated once the switch was flipped and partial darkness, never total, enveloped them. Each faded into their own dark dreams, at least those not highly medicated. A blissful blanket of nothingness came to those some felt were lucky to have such oblivion.

Sleep came easily — even when she was awake she wasn't really conscious or fully aware. Within a few seconds of Amanda's head hitting the pillow the glorious emptiness took her and dragged her down into the depths of the perfect escape — oblivion.

Throughout the night she was perfectly still, never stirring, never moaning or twitching, comatose as only a drug-fueled sleep permitted. But early in the morning, as the light changed and the birds could be heard singing their dawn chorus, something began to stir. Amanda's mind had filtered through the evening's excitement and found herself wanting. Memories and emotions flooded back into her brain and she woke with a start, no longer able to sleep through the onslaught of a past that had been locked down for months and she had been told was nothing more than a lie — the ravings of a sick woman.

She was back. Amanda, a woman who had jumped through time in many incarnations, who had seen The Chamber and had recently found out she owned a cat named Wozzy and was lost in the future when she should be back with Dale, arguing over whose turn it was to cook breakfast and laze about in bed on Saturday morning until she couldn't stand the chatter of the birds any longer and got up to refill the feeders.

"This is who I am," shouted Amanda, before she clamped a hand over her mouth and quickly lay back down, pulling the itchy blanket up over her head so nobody watching the cameras could see her smiling.

Keep it together. If they think that was anything but a dream then they'll pump you so full of pills you'll be rattling around the place for weeks.

Amanda giggled into her pillow like a schoolgirl.

"I'm back," she whispered as quietly as she could. She needed the comfort of her own voice to reassure her that she wasn't still under the influence of the medication. Amanda tried not to laugh out loud.

A plan was needed, and fast. If she didn't get out of The Ward then by the time breakfast was over she would be semi-comatose again and good for nothing. What did they give the women? It was certainly strong. Amanda tried to think back over what she assumed was many months since she'd first found herself falling to the floor in Hector's office, Laffer looming over her like a hairy statue, Wozzy clawing at her belly before he ran off with Hector and Laffer grabbing for him but managing to get out of the small open window and disappearing for good. She hoped he was all right, poor little guy.

Her time in The Ward was nothing but a blur. All she could remember were her meetings with Hector where she seemed to be at her most lucid, her mind clearing throughout the day but then often having to be restrained by Laffer part way through her session as she often lost the plot completely, refusing to cow-tow to him like he was some kind of god.

That had stopped after a few weeks, probably as they dosed her more strongly, and then it was nothing: blank for many months, talking to Hector, Nurse Emily sometimes saying a few words that filtered through, and mostly just eating, staring dumbly at the TV screen — for some reason penguins came to mind — and trying to stay awake.

She knew she was supposed to be seeing the other women as different to herself, to picture them with masks on, giving them their identities, and she knew it worked for many of the women, but not her, and she had foolishly told this to Hector. He always seemed to know anyway, to be able to see past whatever lies she told and know if she was slowly accepting her new life and could put a past he said was nothing but a figment of her imagination behind her. She couldn't.

So, it was back to square one. More meds, no possible way to think clearly, slowly coming out of the daze of weeks only to give herself away somehow and start right back at the beginning again. But it was better than letting him think he'd won.

At least she kept her identity when she had the chance to rise above the drug amnesia, but this was the first time she actually felt like herself, felt capable of anything more than the most rudimentary of thoughts. It was the emotions, that was it. She could feel them stirring, feel the anger, hate, hurt, and the downright injustice of it all.

She would get out, away, find her way home and stop Hector for good.

"Yes, I will do that. I will."

You Sure?

Present Day

"Do you really think this will work?" asked Amanda, staring at Dale dubiously.

Dale nodded, not looking at all convinced. "Yeah, it should. Why not?"

"Because it sounds about as sensible as... Well, it doesn't sound like it will," mumbled Peter, his words trailing off as he tried to think about the plan Dale had outlined.

"Look, we have to try something, and this is the best I can come up with. You got any better ideas?" Dale turned to Amanda and Peter. They both remained silent. "Exactly. Look, we have to get her, we have to get all the women out of there, but first I have to get Amanda, my Amanda, and maybe, just maybe, this will allow us to get her. You're willing to give it a try, aren't you?"

"Of course," said Amanda. "I want to go home, to get to Dale, even if, well, even if it means risking disappearing myself, or her disappearing. And you, Dale, you know it could all go wrong, don't you?"

"I do, but let's just do this bit first, then worry about the rest later. Now, you're sure she was on the top bunk in the corner?" Amanda nodded. "You have to be sure, I don't want to risk getting the wrong one again. Sorry, that sounds mean, you know what I mean."

"The Amanda with the freckle right above her lip, yes, that's her."

"Okay then, wish me luck. Ugh, forget it. I'll be right back here in a second anyway." Dale stared at a Hexad in one hand, the note and the other Hexad in the other. He closed his eyes, focused as hard as he possibly could, then pressed the dome to his chest.

"I hope this goes according to plan," said Peter, staring in amazement at the empty space occupied by Dale a moment ago.

"Me too."

The air felt charged, a strange vibration as if untold power was building behind the veneer of what you normally thought of as reality. Dale was back.

"Okay, that's part one done. Let's hope she is in a fit state to even read the note."

"She will be, it's fate. Although she was one of the most lost of all the women, but now and then she came back to herself. What I still don't get is why didn't you just jump and get her and bring her back?"

"Because it won't work that way. It has to be her. We told you how long it's taken to keep jumping, looking for an opportunity to get you when it was safe, and I really thought it was my Amanda, but now if we're unsure it's her then she has to do it herself, and we all have to be there together."

"Dale, this is so messed up I don't even know where to start," said Peter, scratching at his beard.

"Tell me about it. Anyway, it doesn't matter, let's just go get her. Hopefully." Dale turned to Amanda. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. Are you sure about this?"

"No, but what choice do we have?"

"I can think of about a hundred right now. This is nuts, Dale, why does it have to be so complicated?" asked Peter.

"Because it's time travel," said Dale, holding out his now empty hand, clutching a Hexad in the other.

Amanda took his hand.

They jumped.

~~~

37 Years Future

There was something on top of her, just for a second, then it was gone. Was one of the women messing around again? It wouldn't be the first time. Amanda stayed with her head under the pillow. Maybe they'd go in a second.

A slight weight remained, like they'd left something behind.

But the room was silent now, the women had all filed out for their morning ablutions. She'd have a few minutes of alone time hopefully, time to think with her clear head, time to revel in the ability to focus, and the silence. Such glorious silence. No trying to drown out their noise with the humming she knew made her seem completely crazy but was better than listening to their inane or manic chatter.

Amanda lifted her head from under the pillow and sat up.

It's a Hexad! No way. It's true, it's all true. I knew it.

Amanda stared at the familiar blue light, the flashing 6, feeling like a missing part of her had finally come back to make her whole again. Was this real? Or had she lost the plot again, somehow deluding herself that she was feeling clear-headed when in reality she was dosed up to the eyeballs and sitting in a chair slapping dominoes down in random patterns?

No, hold it together, this is real.

Amanda picked up the Hexad, sure she could feel Dale's warmth on the metal.
He's close, so close, now is your chance.
Gently, Amanda lifted the note weighted down by the Hexad. She looked around, expecting Nurse Emily to come and tell her off at any moment.

Got to be quick. Just read it.

As fast as she could, Amanda read the note. It was simple, two lines, Dale's scrawled handwriting confirming he really was trying to help.

Set it to two days ago, at 7:45 PM. Jump to outside the window where you saw the other Amanda escape.

I love you. Dale.

That was it, simple but with clear direction. She could do this, couldn't she? But why not just jump home? Why just a few days ago and to when the other Amanda had disappeared?

Because this is time travel and nothing is ever bloody straightforward, that's why.

Amanda stared at the note, reading it again, then again. She couldn't take her eyes off it, the familiarity of Dale's handwriting making her lose herself in a desire for life to return to normal, for everything to be all right again.

I just want to go home.

"Amanda!" shouted Nurse Emily. "What do you think you're doing?" Nurse Emily stormed into the room, ready to chastise her for not joining the others for their morning wash.

Amanda tried to hide the Hexad and the note but it was too late. Nurse Emily stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the device like it had given her a shock.

"Where... where did you get that from? You move your hand away from it right this instant. Hector is going to have some serious words for you, young lady." Nurse Emily gathered her composure and raced toward Amanda.

It was now or never, no time to get dressed or think about it any longer. Amanda adjusted the dials with nervous fingers, her heart beating so fast she could see her chest move underneath her faded, pink-striped pajamas.

Come on, come on.
Amanda stared at the dials, willing her bony fingers to make the necessary adjustments. Her fingertips were actually sweating, she didn't even know that was a thing. Nurse Emily was almost on her, two more steps and she'd be there. Amanda grabbed the note and stuffed it into her pajama shirt pocket.

"Now then, Amanda," said Nurse Emily in a soothing voice as she reached the bed, "why don't you hand that over and we'll say no more about it."

"Don't think so, bitch," spat Amanda. She pressed down on the glorious blue dome. 5 flashed briefly before she disappeared.

~~~

37 Years Future - 2 Days

For a split-second Amanda panicked that she hadn't thought deeply enough about her jump. What if she landed on top of herself or Wozzy? She'd be a messy pulp and that would be the end of everything.

As the cold bit into her bare feet and she shivered uncontrollably she at least knew she wasn't dead.

Time to open my eyes, I guess.

Amanda stared at herself sat in her drug-daze inside the rec room, but she was also outside looking in. She wondered if this was really happening or if she was simply imagining it all and genuinely was out of her mind. No, she wasn't. This was just the doubt Hector had done his best to make her believe was true: that she was ill, hallucinating and in need of care.