Interversal

5

Alex awoke to complete darkness, unable to move or see. She couldn't feel anything either, only had a vague awareness of being conscious. When she tried to open her eyes, she found them uncooperative, perceived only deep obscure darkness, a complete void of light that resulted in a kind of floating feeling. She had no sense of up or down. She felt disembodied.

She thought about her situation. Why couldn't she see? There was only detachment, a kind of physical indifference, unfamiliarity.

Her voice was there, audible as anything. But she couldn't tell if she was speaking aloud or if the words were in her head. Wasn't she supposed to be somewhere? Working? It felt like that rare condition of conscious thought that comes during a lucid dream, the mind dancing between reality and something else. This was not that; it was totally black. She had to be awake, but couldn't move.

Presently she became aware of a sound. It was dull at first, a kind of far away, rhythmic wheezing. She had to still her mind to focus on it, though as soon as she tried it slipped away and she was once again alone in silence. She rested, allowed herself to accept the fear and confusion and after a few moments heard the sound again. And this time there was something different. She could feel it, washing over her like waves crashing on a beach. With each second the sound intensified. And then, it clicked.

Breathing. It's the sound of my breathing.

The realization was simultaneously exciting and horrific. How could she be so detached from her own body that she didn't recognize her own breaths? Stuck there in total darkness she felt the fear inside her welling up again, and resisted the urge to fight it, instead letting it pass through her. When it subsided she found the quiet and held onto it.

I'm alive.

With what little mental strength she could gather, she focused on the breathing. And as the awareness of it returned, so too did other senses, falling into place like dominoes.

She tasted the dry still air on her mouth, that terrible post-sleep cat poop aroma that could kill a person. Or at least give them whiplash.

There was something just behind the breathing, far more intense and unpleasant. Pain. It was real pain, throbbing on the back of her head and far worse than anything she'd ever felt before. Breaking her arm as a teenager was a cakewalk compared to this. As the moments passed she became acutely aware of it. Like the fear she'd felt, she acknowledged the pain too, letting it fill her mind as a means to regain her body. And then she remembered what had happened. She'd fallen, hit her head on the tile.

Am I paralyzed?

The pain was so intense she couldn't focus. If only she could see through it, know that there was a way out. She had to stop the throbbing, somehow, and to get up so she could figure out how bad it was.

She thought of her mother Anna yelling at her to wake up for school. And then of a rowing coach she'd had in college, screaming at her team as they surged upriver calling out commands.

Power 10 in 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...

She focused on her eyelids and forced them open. It was still completely dark so her eyes needed to adjust. While her pupils dilated she focused on her extremities, wiggling her fingers and toes, flaring her nostrils, parting her parched lips. She took as big a breath as she could manage. Her hands and feet were tingling, buzzing like she'd been sleeping on them. The feeling was awful, extremely discomforting and compounded by a throbbing headache.

But still there was the floating sensation. As her eyes began to take in the room around her, she noticed that there were things moving slowly in the distance, dark shapes roughly the size of...people.

With three of five senses working again, she decided to try and sit up to get a better view of her surroundings, figure out why all these people were doing nothing to help her, why it was dark. She had so many questions just now, foremost of which being why she couldn't feel the ground. She moved her hands as far as they'd reach in every direction but found nothing to grasp onto. Where was that stanchion, the one she's been standing next to before she fell? Had they moved her?

Yes, that must be it. I'm somewhere else.

Then, as if someone had switched on a light, her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and she realized with some horror that she was not somewhere else. This was the control center. She recognized the room despite the absence of light, though something about it was different, like she was seeing it from the wrong perspective. Everything was far away.

Her eyes went wide as something floated into her periphery, moving steadily from left to right not more than 10 feet away. She tried to make out its shape, and realized it was another person as the body rotated, it's still face staring blankly ahead.

Alex's head was pounding and her mind reeling. She glanced from the floating mass toward the barely visible white screens in the distance. She'd only been twenty yards from them before, during the experiment, but now they were much further away.

His eyes peered at her, framed by the pale white face of a middle-aged man. She recognized him as one of the other TV reporters. His hair was still neatly parted and the broad end of his tie floated listlessly along with his body. He was coming closer to her, and with each inch she saw more of him. He was close enough now that she could have reached out to grab him. At first fear prevented her from moving, but she had to know if he was really dead. Hesitantly, she reached for his tie, and grabbed it.