I'm crawling and it hurts. Those are the only two things I know for certain. I have no clue what I'm crawling toward, I just know I have to get there no matter what. My body is aching, my palms are bruised, the fingernails cracked from the force of digging them into the ground to drag myself forward. There's an awful smell in the air, it's putrid and metallic. Coppery? No, it's iron. I'm not sure what it is but it makes my stomach do sickening little flips whenever I get a whiff of it. I want to cry out, to beg for help, to scream and shout until someone comes to get me but somehow, even in the dream, I know nobody's coming. I'm not going to be rescued.
Whatever this is, I'm going to have to brave it by myself. I struggle forward another inch, and my vision blurs from the sensation of burning razors sliding along the lower half of my abdomen. I clench my jaw, holding back the vomit threatening to rush up my throat. I can't afford to be sick right now, I've gotta get there. Where is there?
Beats me.
It's strangely quiet, eerily so. I focus more attention on the sounds, that's when I realize my ears are ringing, like I've just heard a loud blast too close to my head. I don't remember that happening but then again, I don't remember the reason why I'm dragging my body across the floor like newly reanimated corpse.
I push myself a little more, lugging my weight using only my arms. My muscles burn, coiled tight and tense. I finally manage to see a step, just a little raised off the ground. I must be trying to get to an exit. I fling my arms out grabbing onto it, heaving my lower half behind me. My torso is resting against the side when I realize it's too soft to be a step. It's soft, and warm, and beneath the metallic tang I smell something familiar. Cedar and… and a sea breeze. Dad.
Don't look, I'm shouting inside my head but externally I don't make a sound. There's a tingling at the base of my skull and I know I should probably pay attention to it. Not a single squeak escapes me as I glance up and see my father. Flat on his back, his face splattered with blood. Crimson rivulets run down the bridge of his strong nose, over his temples and cheeks. I barely recognize him. The ringing gets worse, only now I'm sure it's a sign of an impending panic attack rather than a loud noise. I open my mouth; to scream maybe, I can't know for sure.
My trembling, swollen fingers dig into the soft fabric of his once pristine white dress shirt. It smears fresh blood amongst the dried remnants of his own. I hold my breath and count backwards from ten.
Ten, nine, eight…
I need to calm down, I need to get help. I want to lie here and wither and die. To rot and decay so that my body can match the way my soul feels right now. I do nothing. I just keep counting.
Seven, six, five…
Horror seeps into my bones, the feeling like icy fingers gripping too tight at my already over sensitive flesh. I feel like I might shatter under too much pressure. I hope I will. My heart is beating, logically I know it has to be but I can't feel it. I am aware of my breaths though they come fast and harsh. A deafening contrast to the silence around me, the silence of death I realize. That quiet just means death, an absence of light. And absence of my dad, because he's dead. Dead.
Four, three…
And I'm alive. I don't want to be but I am. I lay my pounding head against his broad chest. It should comfort me, but I don't hear his heart, I don't feel his breaths and I'm reminded again that he's gone. I close my eyes and wait for death to come for me too.
Two, one.
I bolt upright, my body flying out from under the covers and over the cold wood of my apartment floor. Before I've even registered my surroundings, I'm bent over the toilet retching up the contents of my stomach. My eyes burn with unshed tears, my throat repeatedly contracting around nothing. The muscles in my abdomen ache from the force of my heaving. I spend countless minutes just kneeling there and then when it's over I slump onto the floor and wait. I don't know what I'm waiting for, but I wait. One minute, five, ten.
Eventually, I get to my feet and clean myself up. The bitter taste coating my tongue is an unwelcome reminder of my rude awakening. I go over to the basin and start to brush my teeth. The minty scent fills my nose and it seems so out of place suddenly. I watch my reflection for a moment. Eyes hollow, sweat beading along my pale, clammy looking skin. My entire face is drained of color, like there's not a drop of blood left in my body. I look like death.
Why?
Whispers of a dream float to me on a sleepy wind. I don't remember. I still feel afraid, terrified and defeated. But I don't know why. Whatever it was, it must have been intense because I haven't been physically sick after a dream in a long time. I try to concentrate on the dream; focus on specific images, sounds, smells. Nothing. I keep drawing a blank. All that I accomplish is giving me a headache. A sharp pain in my temples, I rub at the spot and give up on my attempts to access whatever memory sent me screaming into consciousness this time.
When I'm done, I make my way back to my room and grab my phone. The display reads 03:46. Great, that means I've only been asleep for about two hours. I've got meetings today, and since it's not a Friday there's no hope of sleeping of this dream hangover tonight. I make my way into the kitchen and start up the coffee maker, if I'm going to get through today I'm going to need obscene amounts of caffeine.
Once I've got a cup of the strongest coffee I could find I seat myself at my desk. Pulling my little notebook out of my bag I flip through the pages to the last entry. It's got all the information I managed to ring out of Nicky Barnes. I haven't had a chance to go through it all yet but I know there's got to be something in here I can use. In fact, I'm pretty sure he just handed me the entire case gift wrapped with a pink bow.
It's odd, I went into this expecting it to get grueling, I was fully prepared for sleepless nights and endless hours spent playing connect the dots chasing my own tail. Instead, I found the info that lead me to Nicky Barnes with almost zero effort on my part and now I think I might have the person we've been looking for. Or at least, we have his name and I still really haven't done much. It's all too easy, everything aligning just so.
Maybe I'm being a skeptic but I swear something isn't adding up here. If it were this easy, wouldn't the police have figured this out three years ago? Haider was one of the best detectives in this city; I can't imagine that he would have overlooked something like this. Especially, when it's so glaringly obvious. No there's definitely something I'm not seeing here.
What if I took all this information to Haider? Maybe he could help me figure out what I'm missing. No, no that won't work. Because Haider's been keeping secrets too, hasn't he. Secrets about my dad and the things that happened right before he died. My mind flashes back to that overheard conversation, it feels like a decade ago but it's really only been a few weeks. I need to remember that the reason I've got to do this alone is that I can't trust anyone.
On instinct, I grab my phone and snap a quick picture of the page in my notebook. I move the picture into my notes and then lock it just for good measure. Nobody's going to go looking in there for information. Okay, now I'm being ridiculous. Whose going to go looking for information on a three year old cold case? Still I can't shake the feeling that something about this case isn't adding up.
I'm probably just slowly losing my mind, seeing things that aren't there but since I can't trust my mind to keep me from trouble; I've got to trust my instincts. Right now, their screaming that somethings amiss here and putting my trust in the wrong person could be detrimental. Obviously, I know that Emma and Haider would never hurt me, but I know that one of them is lying to me and I can't help but wonder what other secrets are laying just below the surface. I feel silly for thinking it but I'd rather doubt them and get proven wrong than blindly trust them and find myself tangled in a web of deceit.
Alright, that was dramatic. I'm sure it's nothing so ominous, after all these are people I've known all my life. They'd never betray me like that.