Back At The Station…
The evening shift dragged on, a monotonous cycle of restocking, cleaning, and waiting. By the time Carter, Jasmine, and Diego returned to the station, the sun had long set. The guys working the night shift were already settling in.
The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee and disinfectant. Carter gave his goodbyes, the words feeling hollow after the day’s events. He pulled on his helmet, its familiar weight a small comfort, and hopped on his chopper. He started the bike, the engine’s deep growl a welcome noise as he left the world of flashing lights and sterile supplies behind.
He arrived home to the warm, inviting glow of the living room lights. His mother sat on the couch, a book resting in her lap.
“Hey honey, how was work?” she asked, her voice laced with a gentle concern that made him feel both loved and scrutinized.
“Busy,” he said, dropping his work bag by the door. “There were more calls than usual today.”
He headed upstairs to shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime and fatigue of the day. He changed into a pair of comfortable joggers and an oversized elbow sleeve tee, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to his stiff uniform.
Tonight, he was meeting Sam and Leo at a company party for Pellridge Inc., the biggest finance company in the world.
Apparently, Leo had been crushing it at work, and his colleagues were throwing a party to celebrate. He wanted his two closest friends there with him.
Carter plugged in his over ear headphones. The music instantly created a buffer between him and the world. He sat at his computer desk, the familiar glow of the monitor illuminating his face.
I wonder what Leo’s colleagues are like, he thought, opening a browser. Now that I think about it, Leo’s kind of similar to Diego. He has that charm that could woo anyone.
He opened MooTube, the go to video sharing site owned by Floogle. He scrolled through the usual content: popular influencers performing insane stunts, their crazy video titles raking in absurd amounts of views and ad dollars.
“Survive 30 Days In Solitary Confinement & Win $250,000.” “I Survived 16 Days In The Amazon With No Food & Water For $1M Dollars.”
“A lot of survival stuff,” he muttered to himself. “But I can’t hate. For $250,000 I’d lock myself in an empty cell. It can’t be that hard.”
His attention caught by videos going viral about insurgents in the Middle Eastern nation of Jiddala. According to the reports, American troops have been taken captive by a group calling themselves “Freedom of Jiddala.”
President John F. Lincoln had recently made a statement about the escalating crisis.
Carter clicked on a video posted by the official Aegis Media Conglomerate (AMC News) account and hit play. The President appeared on screen, his expression a mask of grave determination.
“My fellow Americans. I’m sure you all learned of what has just transpired in the nation of Jiddala. American troops have been taken hostage and held captive. These are our sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, and comrades. Rest assured, that immediate and swift decisive actions are taking place to secure the safety of our…”
Carter watched the rest of the statement, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. “Wow, that’s actually horrible. I wonder wha…”
Suddenly, a blinding, electric shock erupted in the center of his forehead. The pain was so intense, so unexpected, that he braced himself against the desk, a strangled yell escaping his lips.
“Ahhhh!!”
He squeezed his eyes shut, but the world behind his eyelids was a swirling, impenetrable black. The pain sharpened, becoming a frequent, stabbing pulse. It felt like a hot nail being driven into his skull.
“God! Why does my head hurt so much?”
He opened his eyes, then closed them again, trying to will the agony away. This time, flashes of strange symbols burst in the darkness of his mind. He could tell it was some sort of text, but the characters were alien, nothing like the sterile, universal script of Thaylic that he had known his entire life.
“What is that…?” he whispered, his voice tight with pain. “Those symbols? It looks nothing like Thaylic. But I understand what it means.”
He tried to read the symbols, focusing on them in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the throbbing in his forehead. The letters were fuzzy, indistinct, but he could make out the faint outlines of their shapes. “W-w… a-a…”
As the symbols in his mind became clearer, the pain intensified. A wave of nausea washed over him. “Ahhh, just STOP already!” He pressed one hand to his forehead, the other gripping his knee, squeezing it tightly as if he could physically force the pain out of his body. The words sharpened, snapping into focus. “W-wa… wake…”
He struggled to understand the unfamiliar symbols, his mind a battlefield of pain and confusion.
Then, with a final, jarring snap, the fuzzy characters became perfectly clear, glowing with an internal, white light against the blackness of his mind.
“Wakeup? Is that what it says?” Carter spoke the word out loud, his voice a hoarse whisper in the quiet room.
The moment the word left his lips, the sharp pain in his forehead vanished. It didn’t fade; it was simply gone, as if a switch had been flipped. He leaned back in his computer chair, a long, shuddering sigh of relief escaping him.
“Ahhh… ah,” he panted, his heart hammering against his ribs. “God, what was that? Did I get some chemicals on me at work or something?” He ran a hand over his forehead, but the skin was cool, unbroken. “Those letters weren’t Thaylic at all.”
He stared at the blank computer screen, his mind racing. He knew, with an unshakable certainty, that the world had only ever had one language.
It’s a fact of life, as fundamental as the sky being blue. And yet, he saw something else. He understood something else.
The contradiction was a jarring, unsettling dissonance in his mind. He tried to push it away, to dismiss it as a hallucination brought on by stress or a random, freak migraine.
But the memory of the symbols, and the clear, undeniable meaning of the word they formed, was seared into his brain. He knew what he saw. And it made no sense at all.
A crisp knock sounded from his bedroom door, startling him.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
“Carter honey, are you okay!?” his mom’s voice called from the hallway, laced with alarm. “I heard you yell from downstairs. It sounded like you got hurt, so I came to check on you.”
He scrambled for a plausible lie, his mind still reeling. “I’m fine, Mom, I just… uhh… stubbed my toe. Everything’s fine!”
A moment of silence hung in the air. “Well… okay. If you need help, I’ll be in the office.”
“Okay, thanks!”
BZZZ! BZZZ!!
His phone vibrated on the desk, the sound a jarring interruption. He glanced at the screen. It was a message from Leo. He tapped it open. It was a text accompanied by an image.
“Dress nice tonight 😉”
The picture showed Leo with his arm slung casually around a pretty, thin, blonde haired girl with blue eyes. That girl, in turn, had her arm around another girl—this one with tan skin, brunette hair, and striking amber eyes dotted with freckles. They were both beautiful.
Carter texted back, a smirk playing on his lips. “Did you just want to brag or something…?”
Leo’s reply was instantaneous. “LMAO, dumbass.”
A second text followed. “The blonde one is my plus 2, the brunette is her friend.”
And a third. “I sent her your profile pics.”
Carter raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”
“She said she likes you.”
“Sam’s bringing Margret with him. So we’ll all be paired up.”
Margret was Sam’s high school girlfriend. They were still together, having gotten married at twenty two, right after she graduated from college.
The three of them had all gone to the same high school and knew each other well. Carter was a bit shocked by the sudden setup, but he felt a spark of genuine excitement perk up inside him.
“Oh, thanks for that.”
“Haha, thank me later bud 🙂 Don’t rub one out before you get here. I want you on your A game.”
“Eww, your gross,” Sam replied in the group chat, followed by a laughing emoji.
“Lol jerk,” Carter typed back, a real smile spreading across his face.
He sat back in his chair, thinking about Leo. That was nice of him. Leo was always like that, always looking out for his friends, even though he didn’t really have to.
He always seemed to have it all figured out. Carter remembered how popular he was in high school; it made sense, with a famous former supermodel for a mother and an ex NFL star for a father.
“To be honest, it’s kind of crazy that he went to public school anyway with that kind of background,” Carter said to himself, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room.
“A game, huh?”
He pushed away from the desk and walked to his closet, looking for something to wear. He decided on all black: a simple collared dress shirt, a pair of form fitting dress pants, and black suede loafers.
He pulled out his black leather jacket to complete the look. From his dresser, he retrieved the $1,000 silver watch his dad got him for his twenty fourth birthday last year.
It had been collecting dust, but tonight felt like the right occasion for it.
He put on his usual pair of gold and green jade earrings and applied a few sprays of a fancy smelling cologne.
“I think this is decent,” he said, looking at his reflection. “Not gonna take the bike.”
I’ll probably end up having a few drinks.”
Current Time Is 10:23 PM…
He steps out of the Zubie Rideshare in the downtown city center. Dressed well, feeling a bit good after a small pre game drink at home, he stands before a massive, illuminated hotel skyscraper. The venue is on the rooftop.
The moon is out, a cool California breeze moves through the air, and the temperature is a comfortable seventy degrees. Absolute perfection.
Carter heads inside, the lobby a cavern of polished marble and glittering chandeliers. He scans the area for Leo and the group but doesn’t see them.
“Hey, over HERE!” a voice shouts from the distance.
He turns and spots them in a corner of the lobby: Leo, Sam, Margret, and the two women from the photo. Everyone is around his age.
Leo, tall and broad shouldered at six foot three, looks like a male model in a sharp navy blue suit.
Sam, shorter and slimmer at five foot nine, is dressed more casually in a white dress shirt and black slacks.
His wife, Margret, is a happy, cheerful presence in a simple white dress, a delicate gold cross necklace at her throat.
Carter feels a familiar twinge of nerves, but he pushes it down and heads over to the group.
“Damn, man, where were you?” Leo says, his voice booming. “I was about to leave! We were waiting like an hour for you.”
Carter is shocked. “Oh my god, seriously? I thought we were supposed to meet up at…”
“I’m just messing with you, we got here like five minutes ago,” Leo says with a laugh, breaking the ice with his usual brand of humor.
“Let me introduce you guys.” He gestures to the blonde haired girl from the photo. “This is my friend, Stephanie.”
“Hey, nice to meet you!” she says, shaking Carter’s, Sam’s, and Margret’s hands.
“And this is…” Leo begins, turning to the brunette.
“Lexi! Nice to meet you,” she says enthusiastically, her amber eyes sparkling as she takes Carter’s hand. “Leo talks about you a lot.”
“Oh, god, what did he tell you?” Carter asks in a joking tone, a smile spreading across his face.
“Just all the super important, horribly embarrassing stuff,” Leo says with a grin.
“Wait, what about the slightly less important, moderately embarrassing stuff?” Sam chimes in.
“Haha, very funny, guys,” Carter says.
Lexi continues, her gaze locked on Carter’s. “No, it was more like how great of a friend you were. And how much I’d like you when we met.”
She gives his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “And he wasn’t lying, you look really cute. :)”
“Oouuuu-weeeh. Car Terrrr? You hear that?” Leo says in a dramatic, joking tone. “Forget the rooftop. I got a hotel key you can borrow.
Might as well let you kids wear yourselves out.”
The group laughs.
“B b but, what about meee!” Sam says in a funny, sarcastic voice.
“Bro, your wife is standing right next to you,” Leo replies, shaking his head.
“Yeah, my bad, babe,” Sam says, looking at Margret for a second before everyone breaks out into laughter again.
Leo checks his phone, a text from his work colleagues lighting up the screen. “Okay, let’s head up. I think everyone’s there.”
The group walks together. Sam and Margret lock arms, as do Leo and Stephanie. Carter and Lexi walk side by side, not touching. Then, Lexi reaches out, grabs Carter’s arm, and wraps hers around it, looking him directly in the eye.
“Well, it would be weird if I didn’t,” she says with a playful smile.
“Yea… you’re right,” Carter says, a genuine smile on his face.
He thinks to himself, Leo, you weren’t kidding when you said layup.
The six of them are now on the rooftop. The view is incredible, a sprawling panorama of city lights under a dark, moonlit sky. The atmosphere is electric.
A large seating area with red suede couches surrounds an infinity pool where a few women are enjoying a night swim.
Music thumps from hidden speakers, a driving, energetic beat that vibrates through the polished floor.
About thirty or so men and women, mostly men dressed in sharp suits, light up when Leo walks in.
“LEO’S HERE!!” someone yells from across the lounge.
“Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!” A group of five suited men begins to chant, a rhythmic, primal sound that reminds Carter of something out of a stockbroker movie or a US Marine Corps advertisement.
A few of them break away and approach Leo’s group. They are clearly his colleagues, their faces flushed with excitement and alcohol.
“I almost thought you weren’t going to show on us,” one of them says.
“Haha, of course I would,” Leo replies, clapping the man on the shoulder. He gestures to the man. “Guys, this is one of my colleagues, Marcus.”
“Ooh, I see you’ve brought some friends with you,” Marcus says, his eyes scanning the group with a practiced, appraising gaze.
Leo grabs Sam and Carter’s shoulders, pulling them into a half embrace.
“These jackasses are my best buddies. I’ve known these guys forever.” He then gestures to Margret.
“This is Sam’s wife, Margret.”
“Hello,” says Margret with a polite smile.
“And these two are Stephanie and Lexi.”
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
Carter asks, “So what did Leo do to get this big of a party?”
“Oh, he didn’t mention?” Marcus says, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and envy. “He closed one of the biggest deals in Pellridge history.
We’ve been trying to get that client for years, and I couldn’t believe it when he landed them. I think it’s cause the owner’s daughter has a crush on him, though.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Sam says with a laugh.
“So, how do you guys know Leo?” Marcus asks.
“Oh well, all three of us have been friends since high school.”
“Dang! You guys go back that far? You must have some juicy details on him… Haha.”
“Well, there was this one time…” Sam begins, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“AHHH, Lalalala… anyway,” Leo interrupts loudly, changing the subject with a grin. “Haha, well you guys enjoy yourselves. Tonight, all the drinks are on the house.”
1 Hour Later…
The night is in full swing. The atmosphere has loosened, the initial stiffness replaced by a boisterous, celebratory energy. Leo is holding court with his colleagues, basking in their praise.
Sam and Margret are relaxing at the bar, while Carter and Lexi have found a slightly quieter corner near the edge of the rooftop, their conversation easy and flowing.
“Seriously, an EMT?” Lexi says, leaning forward with a look of genuine interest. “Leo makes it sound like you guys just drive around all day, but that’s actually really cool. You must see some crazy things.”
Carter chuckles, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the drinks.
“You have no idea. But it’s not all heroics. Mostly just helping people who’ve had a bit too much to drink.”
He gestures to the party around them. “Kind of like this, but with more sirens.”
They both laugh. He finds himself relaxing for the first time in weeks, the strange, painful episode from earlier feeling like a distant dream.
He looks past Lexi, out at the breathtaking panorama of city lights under the dark, moonlit sky. That’s when he sees it.
On a massive digital billboard atop a distant skyscraper, the scrolling advertisements flicker.
For a split second, the familiar, sterile letters of Thaylic vanish, replaced by the same sharp, alien script that had burned behind his eyes.
He feels a jolt of ice in his veins. He blinks, and the sign is back to normal.
“Whoa, did you see that?” Carter asks, turning back to Lexi.
She looks at him, confused. “See what? Marcus almost doing a backflip into the pool?”
“No, the sign… on that building,” he says, pointing. “It just… glitched out or something.”
Lexi squints, following his gaze. “Looks fine to me. Probably just a loose connection.”
Carter forces a nod, a cold knot tightening in his stomach. “Yeah… must be my eyes. Long shift.” He tries to brush it off, to focus on the conversation, but the ease is gone.
As he subtly glances back at the skyline, trying to catch the flicker again, a familiar pressure begins to build in his forehead.
It starts as a dull ache and rapidly escalates into a sharp, stabbing pulse. The joyous music of the party distorts, the laughter and chatter becoming a loud, overwhelming roar in his ears. He winces, squeezing his eyes shut.
Behind his eyelids, the alien symbols flash violently.
And beneath the noise of the party, a new sound emerges, faint and impossible. It’s not a sound his ears can hear, but one that echoes deep within his mind.
A soft, unintelligible whisper. It feels ancient, powerful, and it’s trying to tell him something. The sensation is terrifying.
A wave of nausea washes over him, and the world seems to tilt on its axis.
“Carter? What is it? You look pale,” Lexi asks, her voice cutting through the haze, her cheerful expression replaced by one of genuine concern.
He struggles to focus on her face, but the world is a swirling, impenetrable blackness behind his eyelids.
The whispers in his head are getting louder, the syllables still alien, but their intent feels urgent, insistent. The pain intensifies, a hot nail being driven into his skull.
“God, my head…” he manages to say, his voice strained.
He pushes himself to his feet, stumbling slightly. The movement makes the world spin violently.
“Whoa, hey, easy there,” Lexi says, standing up with him and steadying him with a hand on his arm. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”
“No, I… I think I just need to go,” Carter forces out, pulling away gently.
The need to be alone, to escape the crushing sensory overload, is overwhelming. “I’m sorry. It’s a killer migraine. Comes out of nowhere sometimes. I need a dark room.”
He looks at her, trying to convey his regret. “I was having a really great time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, her concern overriding any disappointment.
“Do you need me to call you a ride? You don’t look like you should be driving.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Fresh air will help,” he lies. “It was really nice meeting you, Lexi.”
Without another word, he turns and walks away, his movements stiff and unsteady. He navigates through the laughing crowds, each sound a hammer blow against his skull. He doesn’t look back.
He finally makes it to the elevator, the quiet descent a small mercy. The throbbing in his head begins to subside, and the whispers fade back into an unsettling silence.
As he steps out into the cool night air, he leans against the side of the skyscraper, taking deep, shuddering breaths.
The pain is gone, but the fear and confusion remain, a cold residue left in its wake. It wasn’t just a headache.
He looks up at the the light from the party still pulsing with life. It feels like a world away.
Carter’s mind was a storm. He tried to rationalize the flashing symbols, the crushing pain, the impossible whispers.
A migraine, he told himself again, the lie wearing thin. Stress. That’s all.
Then, a thought that was not his own sliced through the chaos, clear and sharp as a shard of glass. It wasn’t a sound carried on the air, but a voice that bloomed directly in the center of his consciousness. It was neither male nor female, ancient and patient.
“Wakeup.”
His eyes shoot open, his heart hammering against his ribs. He stood in the moonlight of the city streets, looking around, but there was no one there.