from the table and standing up. Thomas nodded and looked out the window. Dr. Leyden shrugged, grabbed his trash, and meandered to the trashcan, passing Jacqueline as he went. She had been eating alone, speaking to and looking at no one.
He popped in a movie he had requested from Bekki the previous evening and lay down on the bed to watch it. He drifted off to sleep while it played. Awakening a couple hours later, he was drenched in sweat and shaking. He could not remember the details of his nightmare, only the feeling that he was in the company of Death himself. Although the temperature of the room had not changed, he could not stop shivering. His blood felt like ice water coursing through his veins. He got up off of his bed and cranked up the thermostat. It didn’t help. The room was empty but dread remained his companion.
He decided he needed a walk outside, an opportunity to lose himself in the beauty of the outdoors. A fresh snowfall had blanketed the landscape the prior evening and he hoped to enjoy a stroll through the virgin powder. He changed out of his damp clothing, showered, and left his room. He went upstairs and, as he opened the doors to the lobby, the chill in the air was like a slap in the face.
“Don’t stay out too long,” Bekki called from the front desk. “It’s deceptively cold outside.”
Dr. Leyden grunted a reply and moved out into the frigid air. While he had dressed warmly, the wind seemed to cut right through his jacket and go in search of any crevice that allowed access to his warm body. Between the outside air and the deathly cold that remained from his dream, he was as miserable as he remembered ever having been. He continued on his walk, determined to warm himself up.
A steady thumping noise interrupted his thoughts. He looked around to locate the source of the sound and saw a helicopter lifting off from the roof of the compound. Strange, he thought. Who could be leaving in a helicopter? Maybe there had been a medical emergency. He hurried back to the building, doing his best to avoid creating his own medical emergency. Between the patches of ice and tree roots sticking up all over the place but hidden by the snow, he almost didn’t succeed. He stumbled, rather than walked, into the lobby of the building, shaking the snow from his jacket.
“Mr. Scario has just arrived. Prepare his room at once.”
Dr. Leyden turned to try and determine the identity of the person who had just spoken. Although it had been uttered in barely more than a whisper, the layout of the lobby carried the words to him as if spoken in his ear. There were five employees standing in a small group, and it was impossible to tell which of them had unknowingly divulged this information.
What is Scario doing here? he thought. The experiment would not be completed for some time now. The stages that were left were still problematic and could result in enormous time delays. His being here now served no purpose.
Dr. Leyden couldn’t imagine that Scario would be touring the labs congratulating everyone on the good work done thus far. Scario had done so much to keep his identity a secret that revealing himself to the staff at this point made no sense whatsoever. A little investigating is in order, Dr. Leyden thought as he strode to the elevator.
Although he did plenty of snooping, Dr. Leyden neither saw nor heard anything more about Mr. Scario over the next few days. If in fact he had arrived, he had not made his presence known to anyone who didn’t need to know. As far as Dr. Leyden could tell, none of the scientists suspected anything. The staff obviously had to be aware of Scario’s arrival, but none of them gave any indication.
His investigation continued and so did his nightmares. That night it was much worse. By morning he was shaking so badly that he had been unable to get out of bed for an hour for fear that his legs would be incapable of holding him.
March 27, Los Angeles, CA
Alastair’s weekend had
He popped in a movie he had requested from Bekki the previous evening and lay down on the bed to watch it. He drifted off to sleep while it played. Awakening a couple hours later, he was drenched in sweat and shaking. He could not remember the details of his nightmare, only the feeling that he was in the company of Death himself. Although the temperature of the room had not changed, he could not stop shivering. His blood felt like ice water coursing through his veins. He got up off of his bed and cranked up the thermostat. It didn’t help. The room was empty but dread remained his companion.
He decided he needed a walk outside, an opportunity to lose himself in the beauty of the outdoors. A fresh snowfall had blanketed the landscape the prior evening and he hoped to enjoy a stroll through the virgin powder. He changed out of his damp clothing, showered, and left his room. He went upstairs and, as he opened the doors to the lobby, the chill in the air was like a slap in the face.
“Don’t stay out too long,” Bekki called from the front desk. “It’s deceptively cold outside.”
Dr. Leyden grunted a reply and moved out into the frigid air. While he had dressed warmly, the wind seemed to cut right through his jacket and go in search of any crevice that allowed access to his warm body. Between the outside air and the deathly cold that remained from his dream, he was as miserable as he remembered ever having been. He continued on his walk, determined to warm himself up.
A steady thumping noise interrupted his thoughts. He looked around to locate the source of the sound and saw a helicopter lifting off from the roof of the compound. Strange, he thought. Who could be leaving in a helicopter? Maybe there had been a medical emergency. He hurried back to the building, doing his best to avoid creating his own medical emergency. Between the patches of ice and tree roots sticking up all over the place but hidden by the snow, he almost didn’t succeed. He stumbled, rather than walked, into the lobby of the building, shaking the snow from his jacket.
“Mr. Scario has just arrived. Prepare his room at once.”
Dr. Leyden turned to try and determine the identity of the person who had just spoken. Although it had been uttered in barely more than a whisper, the layout of the lobby carried the words to him as if spoken in his ear. There were five employees standing in a small group, and it was impossible to tell which of them had unknowingly divulged this information.
What is Scario doing here? he thought. The experiment would not be completed for some time now. The stages that were left were still problematic and could result in enormous time delays. His being here now served no purpose.
Dr. Leyden couldn’t imagine that Scario would be touring the labs congratulating everyone on the good work done thus far. Scario had done so much to keep his identity a secret that revealing himself to the staff at this point made no sense whatsoever. A little investigating is in order, Dr. Leyden thought as he strode to the elevator.
Although he did plenty of snooping, Dr. Leyden neither saw nor heard anything more about Mr. Scario over the next few days. If in fact he had arrived, he had not made his presence known to anyone who didn’t need to know. As far as Dr. Leyden could tell, none of the scientists suspected anything. The staff obviously had to be aware of Scario’s arrival, but none of them gave any indication.
His investigation continued and so did his nightmares. That night it was much worse. By morning he was shaking so badly that he had been unable to get out of bed for an hour for fear that his legs would be incapable of holding him.
March 27, Los Angeles, CA
Alastair’s weekend had
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