White Space Season 2

turned from angry to confused, and then to scared. “I need to know you believe me, Jonny. I need to know.”
    Jon said, “I … ”
    He took a cautious step closer, watching the man’s eyes, watching the blade shaking in his hand, Houser lowering it just an inch or so …
    “ … believe … ”
    He reached out, kept his gaze locked onto Houser’s, praying his friend wouldn’t suddenly jerk the knife into his throat,
    “ …you,” Jon said, his hands reaching out to drape them gently over his friend’s.
    As their hands touched, Houser’s eyes went wild. His hands shot up, eager to drive the knife into his throat.
    Jon reached up quickly, grabbing Houser’s hands with both of his, and every ounce of strength, slowly prying Houser’s fingers from the blade, while trying not to slice his own.
    “Let go!” Jon shouted, pulling, as Houser’s wild eyes locked onto his and they battled for the blade.
    Brady was then at Jon’s side. Between the two of them, they managed to wrest Houser’s knife from his hands. It fell to the floor with a clang. Houser’s eyes met Jon’s then went suddenly blank as if he were stunned to see his friend inside the room.
    “Jon?” he asked. “Is that you?”
    Brady spun around, screaming into both the mirrored wall and the camera. “Who the fuck patted him down? How the hell did he get a knife in here?!”
    Jon’s heart pounded as he stared at Houser, who looked either utterly confused, batshit crazy, or a third option: both.

    * * * *

EPILOGUE

    Sarah woke with no idea how long she’d been sleeping.
    Like every other time, it could have been an hour or might have been a week. And, like every other time, it was impossible to know truth, even when felt.
    A memory hit her, slapping Sarah hard in the face.
    Emma is dead.
    But was it real?
    Sarah wanted to cry, but tried to control herself, tried to tell herself it was a false memory, just like so many that she’d experienced since waking in this place days, weeks, months, years — who knew how long — ago.
    Maybe Emma’s death was a fabrication, too. They were testing her responses to stimuli, why she didn’t know.
    This was just another test. It had to be.
    No, it was real. And you know it.
    She ignored her pounding head and fuzzy brain, then stood from her bed and called out for help.
    “Someone? Anyone? Where’s Emma? Is she OK?”
    As usual, and exactly as expected, Sarah’s cry went unanswered. She screamed repeatedly, numbing her lungs to silence, until she eventually grew hungry, and that realization of hunger filled her with hope. Though Sarah couldn’t focus long enough to reign in a specific memory, something told her she was never hungry long, and that a rumbling stomach meant company soon. As if to answer her thought, a door on the room’s far side whooshed open.
    None of the lab doctors entered, and there was no food. Blake Conway smiled instead. “We need to talk,” he said.
    He is here! He is real!
    “Oh, God!” Sarah’s lump fattened in her throat. “I know it’s something horrible,” she cried, “but I have to know. Just tell me. Is Emma really dead?”
    An odd look flushed his face. Blake’s eyebrows flared high then almost immediately settled. He narrowed his gaze, seeming to study her. Finally he said, “Interesting,” then paused, hesitating as if he wanted to say more. After a moment of silence he added, “How do you know that, Sarah?”
    Oh, God, it is true.
    “I saw it,” she said, trying not to break down. “Through Cassidy’s eyes. I saw my baby, dead in the morgue, lying under a blanket. Jon was there, too. That couldn’t have been real, right, Mr. Conway? It was like the birds, right? Right? ”
    It took everything inside Sarah to keep herself from sobbing. But then, quite suddenly, everything inside her wasn’t enough.
    “Just tell me,” Sarah fell into a heaving sob, pulling a deep plea from her depths. “Is Emma dead?”
    Blake smiled, his face kind and sympathetic. “I think we should speak somewhere more private.” He looked around the empty room; a silent wink to the hidden cameras Sarah suspected were peeking from every corner.
    Blake held out his hand, said, “Come with me,” then wrapped his fingers gently around Sarah’s.
    The door whooshed open, and he stepped out into the hallway. He pulled her behind him, then the door whooshed back closed.
    Blake led Sarah down the hallway.
    “Where are we going?” she asked.
    Her heart was racing, not just