Battling In My Friends
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“I’m sorry,” I said. “Did you say something?”
He looked at me and smiled, then shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t seem to care that he’d been talking in my head again. It was just one of those things we did when no one else could hear us. We were psychic twins; it wasn’t a big deal for him to know what I thought or felt.
“No.” His voice came out as clear as if he had spoken aloud. “You’re thinking about your friends back home, aren’t you? About how they’ll be worried sick over the news from New York City.”
It made sense—the attack on Manhattan would have hit them hard. The world’s largest city being destroyed by an alien invasion…it couldn’t help but shake people up. They wouldn’t want to worry their parents or siblings while trying to figure out what to do next.
But there was nothing I could really tell them until more information became available, which meant not much point in worrying myself with it either. Besides, my mom already knew exactly where I was and why.
She probably hadn’t even bothered telling Dad because she figured he’d find out soon enough anyway. And if she told him before I got back, she might spoil the surprise.
We walked along together without saying anything for a few minutes longer. Then, after another block or two, he stopped walking completely. He turned around slowly so that he faced away from me instead of toward the street behind him.
When he spoke this time, his voice sounded like it came from very far off. “What are you going to do?”
My heart skipped a beat. What am I going to do? How can I possibly answer such a question when I don’t yet know the answers myself?
But I found myself answering regardless. “Whatever needs doing, I guess.”
A long pause followed. Finally, he asked, “Why is that all you’ve ever done since we met?”
That stung. Even though I knew it shouldn’t matter, somehow hearing it still hurt. Maybe it was because I realized he was right. Or maybe it was because I wanted him to understand how difficult it was for me sometimes. To see beyond my surface-level reactions and realize that beneath them lay layers upon layers of pain and fear and uncertainty.
The truth was, I never seemed able to make any decisions about my life. Nothing ever went according to plan; everything always ended up falling apart in some way or another. I tried to stay positive, but it was exhausting work.
Every day I woke up hoping for a new beginning, only to discover that I was stuck in the same old rut once again. Sooner or later, I began to wonder whether I should give up on making plans altogether. Just live each moment as it comes, letting whatever happens to happen.
That might sound good in theory, but in practice, it usually led to disaster. At least, that was what happened most time.
So now here I was, standing in front of a dead-end alleyway with no idea what to do next. I took several steps forward, intending to turn left down the narrow passage, but then paused halfway through. Something was wrong.
There was a strange feeling in my chest, almost like I was having trouble breathing. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead, and suddenly I felt dizzy and nauseous. Sweat trickled into my eyes, blurring my vision. The last thing I remember seeing clearly was the face of a man who appeared to be wearing black leather gloves and carrying a small knife.
Then darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes, bright sunlight filled my field of view. I blinked rapidly against its glare, struggling to focus. As my sight cleared, I saw that I was lying flat on my stomach on top of someone’s car hood. For a second I wondered whose vehicle it was, but then I remembered: This was mine!
“Are you okay?”
Someone was looking down at me. I squinted, trying to get a better look, but whoever it was kept moving further away. All I could make out was a blurry shape with dark hair. I sat up, holding onto the edge of the roof for support. Once I was upright, I noticed that I was wearing jeans and sneakers. I also wore a T-shirt, but underneath it I was naked except for a pair of thin boxer shorts.
Where was I? Why had I come here? Had I gone crazy, running off into the streets half-naked during broad daylight? Was I seriously considering getting inside a stranger’s car without knowing anything about him whatsoever? Because if I was, that was definitely crazy.
I stood up straight, using the car’s windshield as a handhold. My head spun slightly with the movement, and I clutched the side of the car to steady myself. After a minute or two, I managed to regain my balance. Now I just needed to figure out where I was supposed to go from here.
I started walking. It was the first thing I could think of to do. If I didn’t move, something bad would surely happen eventually. In fact, that was probably happening right now somewhere else in the city. But wherever that was, it wasn’t here. And that meant I couldn’t let it find me either. Not until I’d figured things out.
As I made my way down the road in search of an exit, I glanced over my shoulder every couple of seconds. Someone was following me. They were keeping their distance, staying hidden in the shadows, but they hadn’t given up on catching me yet. I could feel it in my bones. Whoever they were, they weren’t human.
***
After wandering aimlessly for hours, I finally spotted a familiar landmark ahead—a large building surrounded by a high wall topped with barbed wire. From this angle, the structure looked more like a prison than a hospital.
It was late afternoon, so there were few people around. Most of those present belonged to the staff, including a handful of nurses, doctors, orderlies, and maintenance workers. Some of them even stopped to stare at me as I approached. I ignored their stares and continued toward the entrance.
Once inside, I headed straight for the reception desk. An attendant behind the counter greeted me with a polite smile, but his expression quickly changed to one of shock when he realized who I was. “What are you doing here?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
“Can we help you?” another nurse called out from the back of the room. She was Asian, her skin pale enough to blend in perfectly with the white walls.
“Yes,” I answered. “My name is Sam. I need to see Dr. Liao.”
She frowned. “Dr. Liao isn’t available today. You’ll have to wait your turn like everyone else. How can I help you?”
“Is anyone else able to speak Chinese?” I asked.
The woman shook her head. “No. We’re all English speakers here. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow?”
I hesitated before answering. I didn’t want to put any undue strain on the staff, especially since I doubted I was going to be admitted anytime soon. Still, I knew I wouldn’t leave the hospital until I found answers, so I decided to press on. “Please tell Dr. Liao that Sam needs to talk to him right away. He has some important information to share.”
“Okay, I will,” she said reluctantly. Then, after giving me a quick once-over, she added, “But don’t blame us if he doesn’t believe you.”
I nodded and turned away. The attendant returned to his work, while the other nurse walked toward the back of the facility. I followed suit, heading deeper into the building.
At last I reached a long hallway lined with doors. Each one bore a number, along with a small plaque indicating which ward it led to. I took a deep breath and began knocking on each door in sequence. No answer came. When I got to the end of the hall, I knocked again. Again nothing happened.
“Hello!” I shouted through the closed door. “Anyone home?!”
Still no response. I tried several more times, but still, nobody responded. Frustrated, I gave up and pushed open the nearest door instead. Inside was a dimly lit room with a single bed, table, chair, and lamp. A man lay curled up in the corner, fast asleep. Asleep, but not dead. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, rising and falling as though he were breathing normally.
He was wearing pajamas, but beneath the covers, he wore only a pair of boxers. There was blood splattered across his lower torso, soaking the fabric of the thin cotton material. He must’ve been stabbed, then dragged here by someone. Probably the same person who attacked me outside earlier.
I stepped closer and studied the man’s face. At first glance, he appeared to be in his mid-twenties, but I had trouble telling because of the dark circles under his eyes. Judging by the state of his body, however, I assumed he hadn’t slept much lately. Or ever.
His hair was messy, sticking up in random directions, and his stubble was unkempt. Yet despite everything, there was something oddly beautiful about him too. Like a sculpture that had been created by accident rather than design.
His features were sharp, almost angular, and his jawline was strong enough to cut glass. But what really caught my attention was his nose. It looked slightly crooked like it’d been broken multiple times but somehow managed to hold itself together anyway.
A shiver ran down my spine. Something wasn’t quite right. This guy couldn’t possibly be alive. Not unless he was a ghost. And judging by how he was lying there, I suspected he might actually be dead.
I wanted to wake him up and ask questions, but I also didn’t want to risk making things worse. Instead, I pulled out a pen and paper and started writing:
Hi! I’m looking for Dr. Liao. Can you please tell him that Sam needs to speak with him? ASAP. Thanks.
Then, just in case, I added:
—Sam
When I finished scribbling, I folded the note and set it beside his hand. Then I carefully backed out of the room without waking him up or disturbing anything else. Once I made sure he was alone, I hurried back to the front of the building and waited patiently near the entrance. After a few minutes, an older man approached.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Are you waiting to see the doctor?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“It won’t be long now,” he assured me. “You should go inside and grab yourself a cup of coffee. They make a good latte.”
“Great idea,” I agreed. “Thanks.”
The man smiled at me, then headed off toward the cafeteria area. I watched him walk away until he disappeared around a corner. Then I went ahead and entered the hospital myself.
Inside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten yet today. I needed food. Now.
As I walked past the reception desk, I spotted another familiar face. It was the man from the lobby, the one who’d helped me find the restroom. I paused to say hello, but he ignored me completely. Perhaps he thought I was crazy, or maybe he simply didn’t recognize me. Either way, I decided to leave well enough alone.
After grabbing a cup of coffee, I found a seat near the window and sipped slowly. The caffeine hit my bloodstream quickly, and soon I felt energized. Even so, I stayed alert and kept watch over the entire place. Just in case.
Time passed slowly, but eventually, I saw the doctor emerge from the elevator. He strode purposefully toward the exit, flanked by two men in white lab coats. One carried a large medical bag, while the other held a clipboard and recorded notes as they walked side by side. When the trio reached the front doors, one of them opened it for the others, allowing them to step outside.
That meant it was time for me to follow suit. I took a deep breath and stood up. Before leaving, I grabbed a handful of napkins from a nearby dispenser and wiped the blood off my hands. Then I followed the three doctors into the parking lot.
They stopped at a silver sedan parked next to a black SUV. The driver got out and opened the rear passenger door, then gestured for the doctor to climb in. As he did, I slipped through the open doorway behind him and shut the car door after him.
Once we were all seated, the doctor turned on the ignition and drove us away from the hospital. We traveled along a narrow road lined with trees. Eventually, the buildings grew smaller and more distant, replaced by rolling hills covered in green grass. A cool breeze blew against my skin, ruffling my hair.
Eventually, the car came to a stop. The doctor killed the engine and climbed out. Moments later, the rest of the group joined him. Together, they began walking across the field toward a small wooden cabin nestled between two massive oak trees. The structure seemed old but sturdy. Its roof was caved in here and there, but most of its windows still remained intact.
As the doctor approached the threshold, I noticed a faint glow emanating from within. It reminded me of the light that glowed when someone used their phone camera flash indoors. Only this was coming from somewhere deeper inside the house. Like something supernatural had been left behind. Or perhaps some sort of magical artifact. Whatever the case, I knew I didn’t have much choice except to follow the others inside.
We stepped onto a wide porch illuminated by dozens of flickering candles. Their orange flames cast dancing shadows across the walls and ceiling. I blinked several times, trying to adjust to the dim lighting, before finally realizing that the light was artificial. Someone must’ve lit those fireplaces, which explained why the interior of the cabin looked so warm and inviting.
A short hallway led straight ahead, ending in a pair of double doors. Two people stood guard at each side, both dressed in dark suits. Both wore sunglasses, even though the sun hadn’t risen above the horizon yet. Each also sported a handgun strapped to their hip. But despite being armed, neither person moved. Neither spoke either, not even when the doctor knocked on the first set of doors.
Instead, they stared blankly forward like statues carved from stone. And since they weren’t moving, I figured it would be safe to approach them and take a closer look. After all, what could possibly happen?
I crept up to the nearest guard, then leaned down to get a better view. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly agape. So he wasn’t dead. Yet.
Then again, he might never wake up if I messed things up too badly. That’s how these situations usually worked.
So instead of touching him, I carefully studied the scene. There were no obvious wounds anywhere on his body. No broken bones or visible injuries. In fact, everything appeared perfectly normal…
The End