Foreverland Is Dead
“Give me an hour, that’s all. She needs time to adjust to reality. If you go too hard, she could lose grip. She’ll be no good then.”
The man stares at Cyn, listening.
“Trust me, Thomas. I saw it happen on the island. Some of the boys were caught between two worlds and fell apart. You could destroy her.”
He’s thinking. Puts his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll just talk.”
“Let me—”
He’s too quick, this time. He snags the folding chair from a desk just past the curtain and plunks down in front of Cyn. No smile from him.
“I’m Agent Carlson. You hungry?”
Cyn looks at Linda.
“I wish there was more time for pleasantries, but time is very short. I’m a federal cyber-terrorism agent. What’s happened in the last month is all new to us. Quite frankly, it’s the stuff of science fiction movies.”
Blankness moves into her eyes. He pauses, gives her a moment to comprehend, holding up a hand when Linda takes a step.
“Cynthia,” he says, touching her knee, “you’re part of an identity theft conspiracy. You were kidnapped months ago, brought out here, and inserted into a dream. We are very close to finding the people responsible, but we need your help. Tell me what you remember before waking up.”
Cyn looks back and forth between the two. She tries to say something but keeps forgetting what it is.
“Thomas.” Linda steps up.
He leans forward, holding Cyn’s gaze. “Tell me,” he whispers.
But she’s stuck. She’s got nothing.
Linda gives his shoulder a firm pull. He stands reluctantly, not looking away. Linda guides him with her hand on his arm, whispering as they go.
“What did you mean?” Cyn calls.
They stop halfway across the room.
“When you said I was adjusting to reality, what did you mean by that?”
Linda comes back, sits in the chair. Thomas stays back.
“You’ve been immersed in an alternate reality,” Linda says. “We’re not sure how long.”
“Weeks, we think,” Thomas says without moving any closer. “Maybe a month.”
Cyn focuses on the sound of the distant thumping, like a slow-moving helicopter. She closes her eyes, imagines white blades churning at the end of a long post.
Three of them.
Next to a barn.
It was so cold. So white and cold.
And hungry.
There was pain and fear, a brutal fight, marks on a wall, other beds—
“Where are they?” She opens her eyes, notices that the bed behind Linda empty. “Where are the girls?”
Linda takes her hands. They’re soft and warm. She looks like she’s going to say something just as soft, just as warm and supportive—
“They’re still in the dream,” Thomas says. “We need your help.”
Linda’s lips tighten, but her expression shifts to something pained, sorrowful.
“Is that true?” Cyn asks.
Linda nods.
Cyn tries to stand but feels too dizzy. Her legs, too weak.
She left them behind. She didn’t mean to do that, didn’t want to abandon them. Why didn’t they follow her? Why didn’t they do what she did?
I left them in Hell.
“We need to take this slow. Let’s talk about where you are, right here and now, get a good grip on physical reality before we start investigating the dream.”
“No.” Cyn grabs Linda’s arm. “Take me to them. I want to see them.”
“You heard her,” Thomas says.
Linda sighs, searching for a reason to stop her. Cyn squeezes tighter, hoping to look strong and confident. Hoping to hide the fear and her fluttery grip on reality.
“Please,” she says.
“Leave, Thomas,” Linda says. “Let the young lady get dressed.”
Thomas leaves as quickly as he entered. Linda remains seated for several seconds before retrieving clothes for Cyn, closing the curtain for privacy. She has to rest once she’s dressed.
She’s not accustomed to moving.
Linda holds the door open.
Cyn is greeted by sunshine and warm air. The tent is set up near the woods, behind the garden that’s full of blossoming vegetables and overgrown weeds. She expects to see Jen pop up from one of the rows, hauling out a bundle of green peppers or eggplants.
Beyond is the meadow, wildflowers swaying in a gentle breeze. There was snow out there before. They crossed it on horseback, the bitter cold bringing tears to her eyes and aches to her ears.
Now there’s a helicopter nestled in the grass.
“Are you all right?” Linda asks.
“It was…colder.” Her knees wobble. She licks her lips, swallows. Her chest fluttering.
Linda carefully pauses, allowing Cyn
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