Unobserved
The moment stretched between us, the connection razer thin. Through that other space, we all looked deep into each others eyes, each surprised pair met with an another pair; identical, patient and subtly amused.
You knew about us?
They inquired through a jumbled mess of confusions and memory scans for possible lapses or errors in their mission.
Ah. Guess you aren’t the guys from last time then.
The thought was somewhat bitter and sad, and I’m sure the peeping trio were met with flashes of memories of the day those voices had cheered me on as my legs struggled to re-establish a grounding connection to the root. Chances were this was the same group, but in this moment, as far as that memory was concerned, my before was most likely their future.
I could feel them coming to the same conclusion, and they scrambled to locate any errors in their calculations. The alternative was a paradox, and I could tell that was something they didn’t believe to be possible.
It was an old argument. They didn’t remember the hours of waiting to speak to the president as the experts scrambled to explain how I could simultaneously exist and not exist at the same time. That’s their future now, not mine, and it makes me sad for them.
I don’t think they’ll get the luxury of merely remembering the blinding light and flash of heat and burning pain as my skin, even here, in this world, turned red and dry and cracked and bleeding around my eyes and on my cheeks from witnessing the blast.
“What’s wrong with your face?” My dad asked.
My heart was racing and my eyes were still burning from the intensity of the blaze, my game of chicken with Putin having ultimately proved futile. I was still sane enough to be reasonably sure none of that had actually happened, at least not here, but I still half expected my phone to start blaring at any moment to inform the lay citizen of the attack.
I never actually saw the target. I was only in the room or on the phone, and the moment I lost was like being cauterized from a wound.
“Cole?”
Right. My dad. “What?”
“Your Face. What the hell happened?”
I touched my face. The pain was confusing. Alarming. Didn’t make any sense. It was tender. Dry. Scaly. Like a day old sunburn turned to blister. I leveraged my way to my feet, the familiar pop in my neck making my eye twitch as I found my center of gravity and made my way to the bathroom, squinting in the harsh bright light once I flicked on the light. My hair was frizzy and sticking in all directions, and my eyes were sucked deep into purple sockets.
My skin was bright red, the crest of my cheekbones and lines of my brow nearly cracked and blistered.
The memory fragment was enough to set the trio into a panic. I heard that one speak up. Always the devils advocate. Always the cynic.
Its probably an NPC.
I promise you I’m real.
I sensed the command to locate.
Knowing what they needed, I gave them an unmistakable beacon.
“Unobserved.”
THAT got their attention.
The sound waves hit my phone in the amount of time it took Him to open his eyes and give the location marker. Their confusion was palpable, and I make sure they could all FEEL my smirk as I repeated, for the audience if you will, “I’m Unobserved.”
They had my lock, and it was panic. This was supposed to be uncharted, off limited, totally unknown territory. How the hell had ABBROGRAST made it into their system?
I felt Kyra seize control the moment before my spine bowed and I issued the command. If You were listening. You know what to do.
It was interesting how I knew to gather my belongings and my phone and settle in for Observation. Its a sensation I struggle to describe, but it was most definitely not surprise that I received a call from not one, not two, but three different people (any one of them would have been an unusual event) within a three minute span.
I’m not positive what is going on, but I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that NONE OF US, are truly Unobserved.