The Unstoppable (Chapter Two)

The Unstoppable

Chapter 2: Two Years from Yesterday

White lights.

My eyelids cringed the moment I opened them. I collapsed back into the heavy sleep I'd come from and didn't wake up again for two and a half days.

Once again the harsh glare of fluorescent lights met my eyes as I came to. I fought harder to stay awake this time, struggling against my heavy eyelids, but it was a losing battle. But the second time I only slept for six hours before I woke again.

This time I tried to bolt straight out of the bed I lay in. In my head, I imagined ripping the IV out of my arm, throwing off the blankets covering me and leaping to my feet.

I barely managed to move my neck.

Every muscle in my body seemed weighed down, weak and paralyzed. I tried to speak but all I managed was a hoarse croak. I lay back, trying to remain still and calm, taking stock of the situation.

I was in a hospital bed, alone. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, and I had the room to myself. There was one window, nearby. I could see skyscrapers out the window.

I was alive.

My heart was beating, it thudded with exertion. My lungs were still taking in air as I breathed. I could feel all my limbs, wiggle my toes. I seemed to be intact, even if strangely weak.

And Kate was not here.

I didn't care how I had gotten to Chicago, or why I felt so tired, I only wanted to make sure she was alright.

I looked at the window again, at the buildings towering outside. It looked like mid-afternoon. I imagined standing, putting a hand to the window, and suddenly, I felt it. Not on my hand, or my face, but I could feel the cool of the glass from my bed, for just one second.

Confused, I lifted a hand. It felt heavy, as if it weighed twenty pounds. I slowly touched one hand to the other, neither felt a bit colder. How odd, I thought to myself, but I didn't dwell on it for long.

Everything that had happened seemed like a fading dream now, or a nightmare. An old photograph at the back of a closet, faded and crumbling. It all felt so unreal now, the alignment of the cars, the scent of sea air, and that leap into dark waters. Surely it was all a mistake, surely Kate would walk into the room any minute now and explain everything...

But no, she didn't come. Instead, a nurse walked into the room. She seemed shocked to see me stirring. She dropped the clipboard in her hand and dashed out of the room crying for a doctor. I tried once again to struggle to my feet, and this time I almost made it into a sitting position, but exhaustion came down on me so heavily I laid down again and sleep overtook me yet again.

White lights.

When I woke up this time I was surrounded by a halo of doctors and nurses, murmuring to each other in quiet voices. As soon as my eyes opened, their chattering stopped. One doctor in particular stuck his hand out as I rose myself to a sitting position.

"Good morning, Tom. Jim Shephard. It's good to finally meet you after all this time."

What? Tom?

For a moment I was too stunned to speak. "Huh?" I croaked after a moment of awkward silence. "My name is not Tom."

"Of course it is," he replied, sounding assured. "That's the name we found on your driver's license the day you were brought in here." I didn't respond.

A perplexed look crossed Jim's face. "Do you know what year it is Tom? What do you think your real name is?"

I frowned and was silent again for a moment, and then: "Tom. Of course! Of course, no I know what my name is. I was just confused." Whatever was going on, I decided it would be best to play along for now. The last thing I wanted was to be pegged as crazy. "And of course, it's 2006."

"No...it's 2008. I'm afraid you've been in a coma for the last two and a half years."

The thought was too impossible. I couldn't even process it. "I-no, that can't be! Where's Kate? Is she here?" The question I'd been dying to ask had finally been blurted out. Why wasn't she here? The question kept running in my head over and over.

"Kate who?" You were brought here alone, and you've never had any visitors, I'm afraid." The doctor looked concerned, and most of the doctors had pitying looks on their faces.

I tried to stand. I had to get out of here. I had to find Kate, but my body betrayed me, stiff and useless. "How long till I can be discharged?" I asked, trying not to panic or sound desperate.

Jim Shephard shooed everyone out of the room. He had a wistful, slightly disappointed look on his face now, as if he would regret losing me, and wanted to keep me here for as long as possible.

"We'll need to run some tests. I'll schedule an MRI right away, and we'll also want to get a little blood work done. Also, you might need physical therapy. I'll check back with you in the morning. Nurses will be around if you need anything. There's a phone right there by your bed. Nine dials out if you need to call anyone..."

He kept going, but I barely processed a word of it. I could hardly thing straight. Suddenly another question popped into my head. "What's my bill going to look like? You kept me here under observation for what, two years? What happened to me?"

An older gentleman brought you in here like this, out cold. Offered to pay all your expenses, very generous. He said he found you that way, some sort of carwreck."

"Can I have his phone number? Is he around?"

"I'm afraid he asked to remain completely anonymous. We haven't seen him since that day. Even I don't know who he is.

"Oh." I wasn't sure what else to say. Nothing about all this seemed possible. Didn't people who spent years in comas never wake up? I thought about asking more questions, but I didn't really want to talk.

Jim Shepherd left, with more kind words I barely heard. I turned my head to the window again, thinking about a life that suddenly felt like a dream.

The idea that Kate might be gone forever scared me, as did this new identity. I wanted to run to the mirror; make sure the same face was there. Fear. I'd always had a little bit of a problem with panic attacks, especially when it came to water. I suddenly found myself fighting to breath. There was more confusion here than I could handle.

Before I could try to calm down, a sudden power surge took out all the electronics in the room. The blinking, beeping monitors next to my bed went dark, the lights flickered, and the the mounted TV spontaneously turned itself on, staticky images bursting across the screen.

After a minute the panic attack faded, and I felt some of my former strength return. My muscles no longer felt quite so weak, my body so spent. I ripped out my IV and rose to my feet. I figured I only had a few seconds before a nurse would arrive to check on me, so this had to be quick.

First things first.

I dashed to the bathroom and checked the mirror, only to be greeted by familiar dark hair and green eyes. The same profile, the same old Adam, whatever the doctor had said. I looked haggard as all hell, but I was still me. Still moving quicker than should have been possible, I made a run for the closet back in my room.

A green t-shirt, a slightly beat up pair of jeans and some old tennis shoes greeted me. I ripped off my gown and changed. The power surge must have effected more than just my room, I thought. After all, shouldn't someone have checked on me by now?

I was just finished up getting dressed when the door began to creak open. I slid behind it, and then slipped out behind the nurse's back when she walked in. The human shaped bump I'd hastily created in the bed would hopefully buy me a little time to reach the elevator.

I just couldn't stay here, to be that doctor's cash cow while the fate of the one I loved remained a mystery. I didn't have time to wait another second for some battery of tests to begin.

A dimly lit hallway greeted me as I emerged from my room. So the power had gone down everywhere. I slid into the bustle of nurses, patients and doctors keeping my head down. I resolutely made my way for the elevator.

Almost without meaning to, I snagged the ball cap off of someone's head. I simply thought about taking it, and then suddenly the hat was in my hand, as if I'd somehow snagged it with my mind from across the room.

I refused to think about it, certain I'd simply grabbed it without realizing. I didn't let myself relax as I rode the elevator, waiting as it stopped floor by floor. I didn't calm down after walking past the receptionist at the front entrance, didn't stop the whirling in my mind as I walked through the sliding doors and out into the bustle of the street.

It wasn't until I found a park bench several blocks away that I finally let myself slow down. All the exhaustion that had somehow been put off temporarily seemed to crash back down on me the second I sat down, and I fell asleep at once.