Page 103 of Pretty Nightmare

She reminds me of long-ago days when I used to be all floppy arms and legs too.

I blow her a kiss, then creep back down the hallway to Donovan’s room and close the door behind me.

He’s just finishing up the tape. And it’s weird to hear a traditional American accent coming from his normally Caribbean-British mouth. It makes him look different too. For some reason I can’t quite explain.

I remain quiet while he adds a few more prompts. And then he stops the recorder and rewinds to the beginning. “Ready?”

“I’m ready.”

We both lie down on the bed. Hands on our stomachs. Staring up at the ceiling.

CHAPTER NINETEEN - DONOVAN

“Hold on.” I swing my legs out of bed. “I just thought of something.” I pull my medical bag out of the closet and open it up, looking for the small vial of clear liquid. I hold it up to the hazy pre-dawn light filtering in through the window and check the level.

“What’s that?”

I look down in my bag and grab two syringes and two tourniquets, and then go back to the bed and take Indie’s arm.

“What is that?” she repeats, but doesn’t resist when I tie off her arm and snap the veins in the crook of her elbow.

“Brevital. It’s a short-acting sedative. And I’m going to give you a very small dose. You’re gonna feel it in seconds and it will only last about five minutes. But this will be enough to get us into the proper relaxation state. Your head will be a little foggy as you wake up. Just lean into it. Relax. Don’t panic or think about anything but the voice. I’ll set the recorder to start at the five-and-a-half-minute mark so we’re awake enough to hear it. I’ve given you this lots of times, so I know how you’ll react. It’s safe.”

She shrugs. “I’m not worried.”

I load two syringes, mine with a little more than Indie’s since I’m a lot heavier than she is. But not as much as the typical anesthesia dose. Then I tie off my own arm. I want us to go under as close together as I can get it. And this shit is so fast-acting, with such a short duration, I’ll have to move quick.

Then I set the digital recorder to play in five and a half minutes, and wait for her to give me a nod of permission.

God. Is it weird that I’ve been sedating her for so long, and so often, that we have an unspoken consent procedure?

I definitely think it is.

I push the drug into Indie’s veins, then snap off her tourniquet and watch her as it hits her bloodstream. It takes about thirty seconds for the drug to make it to her heart, then a couple more to get up to her brain. Her eyes flutter and she exhales a long breath, her head rolling to the side.

I’m already pushing my own dose in. And the second I snap the tourniquet off, I can already feel it.

I barely have time to set the needles down on the bedside table before I’m sinking down too.

And then… darkness.

SESSION #1

INDIE AND DONOVAN

DREAM THERAPY

VOICE: Where are you?

Where am I?

I look around. A tall, thick canopy of trees. Just like my dream.

Describe your dream.

It’s dark. Not the dark of the understory in the daytime. But real, proper darkness. I can just barely make out a bit of moon between the leaves above my head. It’s full.

Can you see anything else?