The Road Of Things To Come
© Benson Phillip Lott

Sheriff Gerald Keylee knew the identity of the man walking down the middle of the road even before he saw his face.

Simon Fielding: White male, 6ft approximately one hundred and sixty pounds, brown hair, hazel eyes.

Mr. Fielding was dressed in the clothing issued to him at the hospital, from which he had just been reported as having escaped. His third escape in the last six weeks. On each occasion Mr. Fielding was always found not long after being reported missing, usually because of calls to police station from concerned citizens reporting a “derelict” walking down shoulder of the expressway in the middle of the night.

Law enforcement in Jessup County was held together by a handful of officers. There was hardly any crime and on most nights, only the sheriff and, Debbie, the night shift dispatcher at the station, would handle the calls.

And in each incident with Mr. Fielding, Keylee was the one who drove out to pick him up.

Tonight had been slightly different. At approximately 12:13pm, the first call came from County Hospital reporting their patient as missing. Debbie notified the sheriff who was already parked on the shoulder expressway, monitoring the nonexistent traffic.

Keylee began his search, cruising up and down the express lane, using his searchlights to try and locate the man he was looking for. No luck this time. He was nowhere to be found.

At around 2am, he began to wonder if somehow Mr. Fielding had managed to get past him and was no longer within the county lines. He expressed his concern to Debbie over the radio and she in turn suggested that he might want to check out some the back roads near the county lines. One road in particular: Shepherd’s Pass.

“And there is,” the sheriff said to himself as he pulled his patrol car to the side of the road and watched Mr. Fielding slowly making his way down the uneven concrete, ruined from years of neglect. He was still wearing his hospital clothes, Keylee noticed. He was barefoot too. If the man had been conscious of his surroundings he would no doubt be freezing, but that was the problem.. He was not conscious of anything.

Simon Fielding was a sleepwalker. The worst case Keylee had ever seen or heard about and at present he was traveling out to nowhere, deep in a dream.

Keylee reached for his police radio. “Deb? It’s me. I got something for you.”

The radio crackled, followed by a woman’s voice. “Sheriff, is it him?”

“Yeah, it’s him, alright.”

“I’ll get county hospital on the line, tell them we found their patient.”

“Copy that. I’ll let ya know when I’m in route.”

“Should I send Ralph for back up?”

“What for?”

“Right. Just thought I’d check.”

Keylee hung up the radio receiver and opened the driver’s side door. He got out and slowly approached Mr. Fielding, watching him carefully. The man walked in perfect stride, missing every pothole in the road (of which there were several) without having to look down. How could he? His eyes were closed.

Despite his being asleep, the sheriff knew from their previous encounters that Mr. Fielding was still capable of conversation. The trick was to speak to him in a soothing manner, maintain politeness and most importantly, not to show any fear.

“Evening Simon. Where you off to tonight?”

“The corner of 1st and May,” Simon replied, his voice flat and distant, like a man under hypnosis.

The sheriff noticed his eyelids were starting to flutter, as if some part of him was desperately trying to wake up, but couldn’t.

“How ‘bout I give you a lift?”

Simon stopped walking and Keylee stopped with him.

“Yes…a lift.”

“That’s right Simon. A lift.”

The sheriff placed a hand on his shoulder then guided him back to the patrol car where he gently placed him into the backseat, strapped him into his seatbelt then shut his door. He did not place him in handcuffs.

No need, he thought as he moved around to the driver’s side and got in. He started up the engine, put the car in drive then made a sharp U-turn in the middle of the road, and began heading back toward the expressway.

After a few minutes of focusing on his driving, Keylee glanced in his rearview mirror to check on Mr. Fielding. He sat motionless with his hands in his lap. His eyelids had ceased their rapid movement.

This was as expected. Mr. Fielding would no doubt sleep peacefully for the remainder of drive to the hospital just as he had done both times the sheriff had taken him there before.

Once they reached their destination, County Hospital, the doctors there would attempt to wake Mr. Fielding then place him in the disturbed ward. The ward was high security to prevent him from escaping and each time they assured Sheriff Keylee that there would not be another escape.

So much for assurances.

Kyle was pondering just how Simon managed to pull off these “Houdini’s” time and time again. He was beginning to suspect that someone working in the hospital might be helping him. But why?

That’s when the radio clicked on again but for a second no transmission was received except the sound of static.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS-then a woman’s voice abruptly came through. It was Debbie.

“Sheriff? You there? How’s it going?”

“Deb, I’ve got our man. I’m heading back to the Interstate, but it’s gonna be minute ‘til I get there. Christ, he was really far out there this time.”

“How far’d he make it?”

“About six miles down Shepherd’s Pass.”

“Did he say he was goin’ to that same place?”

“Yeah, that same place he said last time.”

“1st and May?”

“Yeah. Ever heard of it?”

“Not in this state. I ran a check last. Lots of First streets, but no May.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say our boy’s from outta town.”

“Yeah, but from where?”

“You know as much as I do, Deb. In fact, I gotta feeling you know more. How’d you know for me to check out here to find this guy anyway?”

“A hunch.”

“C’mon, Deb. What’s the story?”

“Well, ok sheriff. I’ll tell ya, but I know you won’t believe me.”

“Try me. I got a good ten minutes to spare before I get back to the Interstate.”

While Debbie began her story, Keylee checked his rearview mirror to see how his passenger was doing. Simon was still very much asleep.

“-about it.”

Keylee frowned. “What’s that, Deb? Sorry. I was checkin’ on somethin’.”

“I said I had a dream about it.”

“About what?”

“About that road. Shepherd’s Pass.”

“And?”

“Well, you know the old story about it don’cha?”

Keylee laughed into his radio. “Oh here we go. I knew this was coming. You and your old stories.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Keylee sighed to himself, still smiling as he chose his next words carefully. “Nothing. I’m simply saying that I think you’re…beyond common understanding.”

“Well put, sheriff.”

“Thank you.”

“So what’s your latest? Story, I mean.”

“Well, since you’re so eager to know, Shepherd’s Pass was where they found that doctor.”

“Doctor? What doctor?”

“County hospital’s got a history of patients goin’ missing from it, sheriff.”

“What? When?” Keylee asked in astonishment. He had been on the force for ten years. He’d been the sheriff for five. He’d never heard of anyone other than Mr. Fielding escape from County. Then again, Debbie had lived in Jessup County all her life and her father was a deputy for thirty years. Perhaps she knew something he didn’t.

“It was before our time; a good twenty five years ago. Back when Shepherd’s Pass was still open.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“A lot folks in town who were around back then think it’s got a lot to do with it.. They say that road is of the devil.”

“Deb, some folks in town say everything is of the devil. Cable TV is of the devil, McDonald’s is of the devil, airplanes…of the devil. Hell, Ms. Clarkson accused my cat once of bein’ of the devil.”

“I know, I know. But this is different.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“The doctor, I think his name was Grover. He claimed he knew the cause for all the disappearing patients on the ward. Then for some reason he just snapped. Came to the hospital one day. Helped one of his patient’s escape.”

Keylee felt a knot tie in his stomach. So the hospital had a history of staff helping patients break out of the hospital.

“Go on.”

“They never found the patient, but they found the doctor.”

“Where’s he now?”

“Dead.”

“What?”

“They found him on that road you’re drivin’ on right now.”

“But they never found the missing patient?”

“No... And that’s why they closed the road. Folks in town were scared. Thought the crazy man might still be out there. And sheriff, you’re not gonna believe this next part. The patient… his name was Simon Fielding.”

Keylee felt his blood go cold. “Well, damn Debbie. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

The radio began to hiss with static. Keylee switched frequencies, but couldn’t find the right channel.

“Debbie? You there? Debbie come in?”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

“Debbie? Come in. Are you there?”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

“Sheriff? That you?”

“Yeah it’s me. What happened?”

SSSSSSSSSSSSS- “Where’d you go?"

“I think my radio’s actin’ up.”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS- “Well did you get him?”

“Of course I got him. I just told you I found him five minutes ago.”

“Uh, sheriff. What are you talking about?”

“Deb, what the hell are you doing? Quit playin’ games.”

“Sheriff. I’ve been tryin’ to reach for the last half hour.”

Keylee felt his heart skip a beat. “What? What are you-?”

“You’re radios been down. There’s some kind of interfere-SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

“What’s going on here?” Keylee frantically began switching frequencies. “Debbie? Deb? Are you receiving me?”

As he continued switching channels, his eyes averted to the rearview mirror and he saw Simon staring at himself with a smirk on his face.

Keylee turned around in his seat to look at Simon through the plexi-glass. “Are you awake back there?” The smile was gone. Simon was once again fast asleep.

The sheriff, whipped back around and tried another frequency. “What’s goin’ on? Debbie, are you-”

TAP- TAP- TAP

“Jesus!” Keylee jumped in his seat from the sudden noise. He whipped his head around and found Simon was sitting upright, wide-awake, banging on the Plexiglass divider, separating the front from the back.

He was so startled that he actually let go of the wheel and the patrol car began to swerve off the road.

Quickly realizing his mistake, the sheriff frantically turned back around and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, realigning his position on the road.

TAP-TAP-TAP

“The hell? Fielding, sit back in your seat!”

Simon did as he was told.

Keylee tried to calm himself. He took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. “Are you awake back there?”

There was no reply.

“Answer me. Are you awake?”

Simon leaned forward in his seat; his eyes were fluttering again as if possessed. “Let me out sheriff…”

“What? Are you crazy? What’s going on?"

“I have to stop the crash.”

“What crash?”

“I have to stop it... or I’ll never get out.”

I should pull over. I should pull over and put this man in restraints.

But the Interstate was less than two minutes away. He decided he wanted to get off this road first. So he drove faster.

Just keep him calm. Keep him talking. Find out what the hell’s going on.

“Mr. Fielding? Can you hear me? I need you to explain what’s hap-”

“I’m lost.”

“You’re not lost. You’re right here with me.”

“I’m lost in time. I can’t get out. I’m lost!”

Get to the hospital…NOW.

Keylee hit the accelerator. The speedometer raced to 90mph. The exit to the Interstate was coming into his sight.

“I must get out,” He shouted and started banging away at the plated glass. “Get me out of here!”

“Dammit, sit back now!” Keylee twisted his whole body around as Simon continued to hammer on the plated glass.

“Help! (bang-bang-bang) Help me!”

Keylee let lose of steering wheel again and instinctively made a hand gesture toward his sidearm. “You sit back in that seat right now god damn it or I’ll-”

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM-BMP

There was a loud thumping sound as the front end of the patrol car collided with a mound of dirt, thrusting Keylee forward as he spun around in his seat.

The vehicle had gone entirely off road. Frantic, the sheriff grabbed hold of the steering wheel and turned right as hard as he could, hoping to avoid the oncoming ditch.

The tires slid into a patch lose gravel spraying tiny rocks all over the windshield. Keylee continued to bear right, stomping on the brake pedal, but the tires gave way and the car flipped unto its side and fell directly into the ditch, landing with a loud explosion of shattering glass and crumpling metal.

Minutes passed. The echoes of the impact faded and the dust clouds settled. The night was quiet again.

The police radio crackled and Debra’s voice came over the speaker. “Sheriff? You disappeared on me again. Is everything all right? Sheriff…”

There was no response.

Nor would there be.

SIMON’S EMPTINESS

“How are you feeling today, Simon?” asked Dr. Fredrick Grover of his patient as he stepped into his living quarters, otherwise known as room 28-C, located on the mental health ward of Jessup County Hospital.

“I’m fine,” the patient replied, though his voice suggested otherwise.

Dr. Grover grabbed a fold-up chair near the front door beside the sink area and placed it across from the bed where his patient was sitting.

The doctor had a folder under his arm, on the corner of which there was a label marked: FIELDING, SIMON. (Under the name in small print was a personal identification code used for filing.)

Simon sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders slouched and his face unshaven. He was still wearing the hospital-issued clothing. There were plenty of donated civilian clothes in the suitcase at his feet.

The doctor eyed the suitcase. “All set to go I see,” he said as he opened the folder and began to sift through the pages of notes, mostly handwritten comments made during the countless hours of sessions with the patient. There were various comments left by more than a half dozen psychologists and other hospital staff who had examined Mr. Fielding over the years.

Dr. Grover was concerning himself only with the last few pages. These pages consisted of notes he had taken from his last session with Simon three days ago, as well as a typed recommendation to the board for Simon’s discharge, which had since been approved.

After a full minute of silence between them, the doctor spoke. “You’re quiet today. Are you sure everything is alright?”

Simon bowed his head slowly, his gaze drifted from the doctor to the floor then back to the doctor again. “I’m ready to leave this place.”

“I’m sure you are,” Dr. Grover acknowledged.

Simon gave him as pleasant a smile as he seemed to able to offer, which was fairly meek at that moment.. “I want to thank you for putting in your recommendation.”

“I have confidence in you, as do the others on staff.”

Suddenly, Simon’s timid smile vanished as he eyed the doctor suspiciously. “Your hands are shaking, Dr. Grover.”

The doctor seemed to conceal whatever internal reaction he was feeling by this remark. He glanced down at his own hands and gave a phony-sounding laugh.

“I guess I am a little bit shaky, aren’t I? I suppose I had a little too much caffeine this morning,” he explained then followed by clearing his throat (his way of calling for a change of subject). “Now, please, we have very little time. I’m supposed to take you to the transitional housing center by noon and I want to finish our discussion from our last session.”

Simon frowned. “You’re taking me to the halfway house?”

“Yes. Why? Does that bother you?”

“No. It’s just…you’re a psychiatrist. Seems strange they would ask you to take the time.”

“I volunteered.”

“Oh. I see.”

The doctor cleared his throat again. .“Let’s get on with the session shall we?” He began to shift uncomfortably in his chair, crossing then uncrossing his legs. He even pulled out a pen from his coat pocket, fidgeting with it nervously, between two of his fingers.

“I had that strange dream again last night,” Simon suddenly informed him.

The doctor quit his fidgeting and sat upright, attentive. “About the road?”

“About the policeman. Keylee.”

“The one who’s death you believe you’re responsible for?”

“I am. I know I am.”

“Simon we’ve been over this. There are no officers in this county-in this state for that matter-named Keylee. Nor are there any records of any law enforcement officers dying in car accident while on duty. Your dream is about your own guilt. The victim represents your true self. The self you can’t remember.

“Are you saying I used to be a cop?”

“I’m saying I think we should continue with what we were discussing last session.”

“Shepherd’s Pass?” Simon asked.

“Yes,” the doctor replied, once again his nervous energy quickly evolved into an intense focus.

“Something’s happened to you, Dr. Grover. Hasn’t it?”

The doctor was about to respond, but found he couldn’t, almost as if Simon had paralyzed him with his accurate insight.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Simon. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you what you want to know about Shepherd’s Pass, if you tell me what has happened to you since our session three days ago.”

The doctor nodded. “Very well. You first.”

“It’s a deal, then?”

“It’s a deal, Simon.”

“Where did we leave off?”

“You were telling about that night you first went out there. What you remember. What you saw.”

Simon closed his eyes and began to tell what happened…

I woke up in a room.

A hospital.

I knew it was a hospital because I was looking down and saw that I was connected to an IV and a heart monitor. My head was bandaged, but I knew I was not injured.

Then I sat up in the bed and unhooked all the tubes in my skin and removed the bandages.

I took a look around the room and I noticed the front door was slightly open. I walked over to it and peered out the doorway, expecting to find nurses and doctors, running around, but no one was there.

I stood in the doorway for a little while longer, until I felt this sudden urgency to leave. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go. I just knew that I had to be in motion. So I began to walk.

I made my way along the corridors of the building and found an exit by way of a staircase. Once I had made my way down to the first floor I went through the empty lobby and out the automated doors, which led to the massive parking lot. Once I was outside I saw the sky was pitch black. It was night.

There were no stars, nor a moon. There weren’t any cars or ambulances either. The lot was empty.

I looked down at my bare feet, wondering if I should locate a pair of shoes, then I tested the feel of the pavement and found it to be so soft that there was no need..

Even as I made my way to the rough terrain of the open fields beyond the perimeter of the hospital, the surface somehow remained smooth.

Walking out into the darkness, I began to visualize myself being lifted upwards so that with each step I was miraculously able to climb upwards with gusts of wind pressing against my back, aiding my into journey in to the sky.

Up I went, further and further, joining with night…walking on air.

I listened to the rush of wind growing louder the higher I ascended. Finally I reached a level of height where moving my legs was no longer required. That’s when I felt an invisible force wrap itself around me, carrying me through the clouds.

The wind was replaced by the sound of flapping wings and a voice speaking to me in a whisper inside my head.

“Remember all that you see…and all that you will be shown.”

I wasn’t afraid of the voice. I didn’t scream or cry out to be released. Even if I had wanted to, my voice was gone, taken from me by the power all around.

Suddenly I could feel myself drifting back downward again, returning to the land below. Only, the land had changed. I was no longer in the open field surrounding the hospital.

I was somewhere else.

A path of white light came into view below my feet. I could see now that this was my destination and as I touched ground, my ability to speak came back.

“Where am I?” I asked the voice inside.

“This is the road of things to come,” it explained then repeated it’s previous instructions. ”Remember all that you see and all that you will be shown.”

Before I could ask anything further, I felt the power around me fade away. I was alone. The light of the road beyond beckoned me and there was nowhere else to go. Everything around the path was a pit of emptiness.

With only a slight hesitation caused by a fear of the unknown, I took my first step down the path. The silence was deafening in the way that silence can be sometimes, like a blaring hiss.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The echoing of every footstep was like an eruption in space. I couldn’t actually hear the vibrations, but I knew that somewhere the earth was shaking from the blast.

I focused on what I thought might be the end of the road. The light there was different from that of the glowing white ground I traveled on.. The light there had a bluish tint and the closer I came to it the more I could see the light had taken a human form.

Someone was standing at the end of the road, waiting. Not a person, but a form, some kind of translucent being, shaped like a human and similar in height, but lacking all human characteristics and features. Even the way it stood motionless seemed alien. It’s arms were at it’s sides, it’s feet drifting in place as if at any moment the being would perform levitation or simply disappear before eyes.

The transparent body was outlined with a pure blue light, glowing like the full moon above us in the star filled sky. Through the form’s center there was a darkness of so deep it looked like space, black and hollow, going inward like an abyss or the void which continued to threaten the path’s existence as it swam through nothingness on either side of the path.

I stared longingly at the form’s invisible face. A personification of emptiness.

Simon stopped talking and leaned back slowly, watching the doctor who had had a expression of complete rapture in his eyes, until he realized Simon was no longer speaking, then he blinked.

“What?” Dr. Grover asked with slight irritation. “What is it? Why did you stop?”

Simon smiled. “You’re believing every word of what I’m telling you. You’re not even questioning it for a second. You believe it more than I do.”

The doctor shifted himself, attempting to regain proper composure. “Why wouldn’t I believe it?”

“I’m a diagnosed schizophrenic. Diagnosed by you.”

“Schizophrenia is a fairly open ended diagnosis. When you were first brought here I made that diagnosis on the basis of-”

Simon cut him off by raising a hand for silence. “Here’s what I think. When I was first brought here, you didn’t believe a word I said. All this time you have never once considered anything I’ve told you or the other doctors on staff to be anything but delusion. Everything I’m telling you now, I’ve told you before and until today you have never listened.”

“That’s not true Simon. You know perfectly well-”

“Until our last session three days ago.”

“What?”

“That’s when I noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“You were suddenly very interested in what I had to say.”

Dr. Grover said nothing.

“Why is that, doctor?”

“It’s our last session together Simon.”

“And so?”

“So…I want to make sure that we don’t leave anything half dealt with.”

“Doctor, please don’t lie to me. Remember we have deal. I want to know what’s happened to you.”

Dr. Grover’s hands started to shake again. “I think we should get back to what we were discussing.”

Simon nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t finished yet. It’s still my turn…”

I stared at the glowing image in front of me for what seemed an eternity. I could not be the first to speak, so I waited and finally it made its move, walking toward me, whispering with the same voice as the one I heard in my head.

“Do you know why you have been brought here?” it asked.

“You want to show me something,” I said.

“That’s right.” The shape moved closer. “I want to show you the future. Do you wish to see?”

Without hesitation I answered, “Yes.”

“Then… close your eyes.”

“How will I see then?” I asked.

The image raised both hands to my face. “There is only one way to see the future. And that is through me..”

Though I was now very nervous, I did as I was told.

I shut my eyes.

Suddenly I felt the cold sting of two fingers touching my face, moving upwards from my cheeks to the skin of sockets. Instinctively, my head flinched and that’s when it grabbed me.

A sharp pain erupted in my skull. The fingers were sinking into my eyes. I screamed as my entire body went rigid from the rush of pain.

There was a flash of light in my head. A sharp wave of electricity ripped me apart, pulling me somewhere.

I screamed louder, but the pain was too great.

I lost consciousness.

That’s when I had my vision:

FLASH

I’m in the passenger’s seat of a moving car-FLASH-Someone else is with me, behind the wheel-FLASH-A face-FLASH-Glowing eyes-FLASH-The face vanishes-FLASH-I’m alone-FLASH-No one is driving-FLASH-I look out my window-FLASH-I’m screaming-FLASH-Something is coming for me-FLASH-Something big-FLASH-I’m terrified-FLASH-It’s headed right for me…

FLASH

I’m going to die!

FLASH

Help me.

FLASH

Help!

FLASH

RRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-KRSSSSSSSSSH

FLASH

I’m upside down.

FLASH

I hear distant voices, people screaming, the sound of shattering glass.

FLASH

The roof of the car caves in on me.

FLASH

I see blood splattered against the windshield and the world outside is upside down. The sky is made of pavement and the streets are made of clouds.

Smoke.

Pain.

I’m dying.

The vision is almost over, but there is one last thing to see. I remember it very clearly. It’s the sight of golden apples, hundreds of them, falling in reverse, from the blue sky below me to the road above, landing in piles all around the car.

Golden apples.

Everywhere.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Don’t you see anything else?”

“No. I’ve told you this before.”

“I know you have Simon, but I think you might be forgetting something.”

“I’m not.”

“You must be.”

“I’m not. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you have amnesia. Or at least you claim you do. I think or blocking something.”

“I remember all that I’m supposed to. They sent me here because no one believes me.”

“You were found wandering aimlessly on the Interstate claiming you could see the future, what did you expect?”

“I didn’t expect anything other than what’s happened.”

“So you knew no one would believe you?”

“Except you.”

There was a pause. The two men stared at each other again attempting to assess what the other was thinking.

“You believe me, don’t you doctor?”

Dr. Grover shifted again in his chair. “I believe…that you need to elaborate a bit more on precisely what you saw. Stop holding back and tell me everything.”

There was sharpness to the doctor’s tone that gave Simon a puzzled look. “What is it exactly that you’re looking for me to explain doctor? What is it you think I’ve seen that I’m not telling you?”

The doctor dropped his folder with the notes and leaned forward. “I want to know…what you saw…about me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why would I see anything about you?”

“God damn it, you know something!” The doctor lunged from his chair and grabbed Simon with both hands, shaking him violently. Whatever fear or turmoil he’d been trying so hard to suppress, now poured out of him in every trembling word.

“There is nothing else,” Simon protested, shoving the doctor away from him then rising to his feet, holding both arms up to prevent any further assault.

Dr. Grover took a step back. His outburst had confused him as much as it had Simon, but he was still in the act of accusation. He was still afraid and wanted to know what was causing his fear. “You’re lying. I want to know. Do hear me? I want to know what they showed you about me.”

Simon slowly lowered his arms, offering a silent truce between them. “I have no reason to keep anything from you,” he explained. “The only one hiding anything here is you. Something’s happened to you and until you tell me what, there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

Dr. Grover, realizing now how completely irrational his behavior had made him, apologized and took his seat, picking up the spilled contents of the folder as he regained his composure.

“I’m sorry, ” he said, his voice was distant, still in shock over his actions.

Simon adjusted his ruffled collar, but remained standing. “You’ve been to Shepherd’s Pass, haven’t you?”

The doctor nodded his face appearing shamed as if he were admitting some terrible confession. “I’ve been there.”

“When?”

“Three nights ago. After our last session.”

“You drove there?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

The doctor threw his hands up and shook his head. “I don’t know. Your case was up for review. I was intrigued by the story-”

“But do you believe?”

The doctor paused. “I’m a psychiatrist…”

“Yes.”

“And I know that the mind is very powerful…”

“It is.”

“It can make anything seem real. Anything.”

“Dr. Grover?”

“What?”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“… Ok… ok… I’ll tell you…”


THE DOCTOR’S VISION

It was four nights ago.

I was on my way home from the hospital.

I was so tired from all the driving that I accidentally took the wrong exit, heading North instead of South, crossing over the county limits. I had to take the next exit in order to head back the other way and that’s when I came upon the sign.

At first, I thought it was the exit, but the wooden board was so old, the lettering written black paint, so dark in the night, I had to squint to make out what it said.

Shepherd’s Pass.

Underneath the words, there was a painted arrow pointing to my right, but when I looked I saw only endless fields of wheat.

But when I looked a second time I saw it..

About three yards from where the field began, there was the beginning of a paved road.

I thought about you. I thought about all the things we’d discussed throughout our sessions, your fascination with the road, which I had always summed up as a way for you to detach from your real issues.

But I never knew the road actually existed.

I slowed my car to a near halt, checked my rearview to see if any vehicles were approaching from behind me... There weren’t any so I turned and drove into the field which then became the hidden road.

I went the entire length of the Pass, all six miles. The only sight I came across of any interest was a long stretch of CAUTION tape wrapped around the branch of a dead tree.

At some point there must have been an accident out there.

Other than that, the road was precisely what it appeared to be, desolate and forgotten.

When I arrived home that night I went to bed, but had trouble sleeping. I found myself lying in the darkness, thinking about the road. Something wasn’t right about the way I’d come across it. I felt as if my getting lost on the freeway had not simply been an accident. Something had led me astray. I was beginning to feel as if I had been out there before. Then I shook the thought.

Nonsense.

I shut my eyes and monitored my breathing, a technique I’d used many times during my bouts of insomnia. Within a few minutes I was asleep and dreaming.

When I opened my eyes I found myself in motion. I’m walking down the main entrance to the disturbed ward of the hospital, carrying a briefcase. I approach the security desk and discover there are no monitors, no computer console, only a single officer, seated behind a glass panel, reading the newspaper. I’ve never seen him before and yet somehow, I know his name.

“Evening Avery.”

“Evening Dr. Grover. Working late, huh?”

I told him I was there to finish some paperwork before the next days board meeting and without hesitation he buzzed me in through the two doors leading to the disturbed ward.

“So old fashioned”, I thought to myself as I entered the ward. The layout was completely different than how it should be. There were no cameras monitoring the halls, the locks on the doors were all manual. I recalled then a picture I had once seen of the hospital in its early days, back in the 1960’s. The scene before me was identical to that picture.

“Have I traveled back in time?” I wondered.

I stopped walking and lowered my suitcase unto the tile floor. I crouched down and fiddled with the lock then opened the case. Inside was a bottle of ether and a white rag and nothing else.

What am I doing? I asked myself.

But I already know.

I dumped the ether unto the rag as I quietly walked back through the doors I’d entered, sneaking up behind the security officer “Avery” who has returned to his newspaper, with his feet rest on the desk in front of him.

All at once, I attacked him, placing the rag over his face, forcing him to breathe in the fumes until he is rendered unconscious.

I made certain he was all the way out then took his keys and headed back unto the ward, headed directly toward room 28-C.

I found the door and I unlocked. I went inside and saw the patient I was looking for. He was expecting me, sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark.

“Ready?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he replied then stood to face me.

I reached for the light switch and turned it on.

I saw the patient’s face.

It was you.

“Me?” Simon asked.

“Yes,” Dr. Grover replied, his voice distant. He was reliving his dream.

“You came to help me escape. That’s what the dream was showing you?”

“Yes.”

Simon looked away, thinking now of his own visions. “Then it’s true.”

The doctor frowned. “What?”

“The escape. It did happen. I dreamed of it myself. Not of me. But…someone has escaped from this hospital before. And they were helped…by a doctor. I think the road is showing us what happened.”

Dr. Grover shook his head. “You haven’t let me finish. There’s more…”

The next morning I woke up feeling the same way as you do now. I was certain what I had seen was real. Obviously, I did not believe that it was really I who had helped a patient escape, nor did I believe that you were the patient.. I suspected that the dream had used our faces to simply fill in the blanks of an incident that had transpired long ago with people I did not know.

Had there been an escape? That’s what I wanted to know. Had a doctor aided in the process? I was going to find out.

So that day, after finishing up with my patients here at the hospital, I went down to Records Department and inquired with the woman who worked there about an incidents involving missing patients.

After doing a few searches, the woman explained to that there was nothing on file, she also added that she had been employed with the hospital for twenty years and had never heard of any “missing” or “escaped” patients.

I responded by telling her the incident may have occurred even further back than twenty years. She said that if that were the case then there wouldn’t be any record of it there. Her files only went back two decades. She then advised me to check the county library. They had newspaper articles going back as far as the early twenties and if someone had escaped from this hospital, especially a mental health patient, I could bet the papers would have run a story on it.

I thanked her and left, thinking to myself: Unless the hospital covered it up.

I had not told her about the possibility of a doctor being involved.

I stopped off at the library and asked the man working the same questions I’d asked the woman in Records. He gave similar replies, saying that he had lived in Jessup County for fifty-two years and had never heard of an escaped mental patient.

I asked him about their stock of old newspapers and he directed me to the section of the library wear machines used for reading microfilm were set up. Then he showed me their selection of newspapers.

Even on microfilm the possibilities were endless. There must have been thousands of articles, going back nearly a hundred years, without specific dates or another frame of reference I knew I would never find what I was looking for.

Assuming there was even something to find.

So I tried a different approach. I asked the man if he knew of any articles about Shepherd’s Pass.

He found one for me right away.

I was sitting at the microfilm machine, reading the article, feeling a bit unsatisfied. The story was simply about the decision to close the road and didn’t go into much detail. I was about to give up when I heard a familiar voice speak to me from over my shoulder.

“You won’t find anything helpful there.”

I turned around. It was old Mrs. Clarkson. I knew her well. Everyone Jessup County did. She was very active in the church, though that was not how I knew her. She had a severe case of arthritis and refused to take pain medications.

I had seen her on the emergency ward of the hospital many times when I was on the floor counseling burn victims or people who had been in serious car accidents. I had heard her many times complain to her church member friends who’d forced her to come to the ER when the pain had caused her joints to lock up and she was unable to move her legs. She would shout loud enough for the entire staff on the floor to hear that medications were 'of the devil' and that we were committing unholy deeds, forcing her to take injections to get her be able to walk again.

“If God wants me to walk, I’ll walk,” she said to the doctors and nurses trying to get her to swallow a pill or take the needle.

The staff had had me try and console her once, but I was immediately dismissed by her with a statement that psychiatry was most certainly 'of the devil'.

And now she was standing over me and telling me my search was useless.

“How do you know what I’m looking for?” I asked her.

“I know,” was all she said.

“Ok then,” I said. “Where should I be looking?”

“Where else? In fiction. Come. I’ll show you.”

More to humor her than anything else, I followed Mrs. Clarkson to the other side of the library, passing several rows of bookshelves, noticing the titles change from 'How to' and 'The History of'' becoming 'Canterbury Tales' and 'Catcher in the Rye'.

Mrs. Clarkson made a left turn after directing me all the way through the classic fiction section then finally stopped near a laminated sign marked: Short Story, fiction, Collected Works.

“Here is where you’ll find your answers,” she said to me.

I smiled, patiently. “I’m afraid you don’t understand Mrs. Clarkson. I’m looking for some information about-”

“I know what you’re looking for,” she said, cutting me off. She took a step closer to me, staring deep into my eyes, wanting me to know how serious she was about whatever she would say next.

“Sometimes the truth hides in places where you wouldn’t think to find it,” she explained. “Sometimes you must keep an open mind. Even a man such as you, a man who’s after logic…I think you’ll grasp what I’m talking about soon enough, young man. In fact, I know you will. Now, here…take this book...”

She reached out to the shelf nearest her and selected a hardcover that was hiding between two much larger books. Had she not pointed it out, I probably would have skimmed right passed it if I were someone looking for a book of short stories.

Mrs. Clarkson winced with a sudden pain. The effort from simply lifting the book had triggered her arthritis. I helped by taking the book with both hands.

“No, no, no,” she said and took the book back from me, opening it to flip through pages. I kept one hand on the back cover to help her support the weight.

That’s when I noticed the book’s title: 'The Other Stories.'

I was curious, but more concerned about Mrs. Clarkson’s pain. Whatever she was looking for I had sever doubts would be of any use to me. Obviously her age was affecting her behavior. Perhaps she was even showing signs of-

“Here,” she said, breaking my train of thought. “Story One. Don’t bother with the others, they’re of no concern to you.”

I took the book from her and flipped it around so the words were facing me.

THE ROAD OF THINGS TO COME

My interest increased as I scanned the words of the first page. About half way to the bottom I felt my heart skip a beat.

There it was.

Two words, jumping out from the page: Shepherd’s Pass

I looked up from the book and frowned at Mrs. Clarkson. “What is this? Who wrote this story? How’d you find it?”

Mrs. Clarkson stepped away from me. “Just read,” she instructed the turned to walk away.

“But…wait..”

“Just be careful,” she warned, turning back around. “That book… is of the devil.”

“What was the book, doctor?” asked Simon. His face was sweating now, but not from any heat. His blood was pumping furiously and the more Dr. Grover spoke the more he felt certain that everything he said, Simon already knew. He just couldn’t remember.

“There were actually two stories, intertwined.” Dr. Grover explained. “I stood right there in the short story section and read the whole thing.’

“What was it about?”

Dr. Grover swallowed hard. “A doctor…A doctor who worked right here back when it first opened in the early 1960’s. He was secretly doing research with the patients their, using notes from their sessions to gather material for a book he was writing on mass delusion. His patients…they all believed they could see into the future.”

Simon froze. “Because of the road.”

“Yes.”

“What else? What happened next?”

“A new patient arrived on the ward one night. They’d found him wandering aimlessly down Shepherd’s Pass…”

“Go on.”

“The doctor became convinced that this patient was the key to understanding the delusion of the other patients…”

“Until?”

Dr. Grover paused. “Have you read the book Simon?”

Simon shook his head. “No. I’ve dreamed it. Go on. Tell me what happened next. I want to hear you say it.”

“Until,” he continued, “…Until the doctor had a vision himself.”

Simon nodded. “And it was the same vision you had yourself. Wasn’t it Dr. Grover?”

The doctor hesitated then at last, conceded. “Yes.”

“When did you have it?”

“Last night.”

“Tell me.”

“I saw a man…”

A silhouette.

He was standing in a doorway. He was watching me.

I was lying on bed in a great deal of pain, unable to move. I don’t know where I was. I just knew that I was in danger.

The man in the doorway was dressed in a long white coat and wore a surgeon’s mask. Combined with the dim lighting of the room, his features were entirely hidden from me.

The man moved into the room taking slow steps and began speaking to me in a soothing manner, attempting to calm my nerves, alarmed by his presence.

I noticed his hands were behind his back, concealing something from me and I cried out to him, pleading to stay away fro me, but he continued to move forward as he brought his hands around to his side. I was then able to see what he was holding.

A needle.

The cap was off. Clear liquid was shooting out from the tip as the man prepared to make an injection.

He was trying to kill me.

The next thing I remember is feeling a sudden drain of energy. My whole body went numb and though I fought hard to stay awake, eventually the drowsiness took hold. My eyelids began to flutter and I felt the world slip away.

The last thing I saw just before I died was the man removing his mask to show me his face.

I was dead before I saw it.

“Now do you see why I’m so interested?” The doctor asked Simon.

Simon said nothing, only nodded.

“In the book, the doctor awakens from his vision goes straight to the hospital and helps the new patient escape. It’s just like in my dream. He takes out the guard on duty and steals his keys, goes to the patient room and takes him out of the hospital. They drive out to the road and…”

“And what?” asked Simon. “How does it end?”

“The next day a search team finds the doctor’s car out on the road, crashed into a ditch. The doctor is in the driver’s seat. Dead.”

“And the patient is gone,” Simon said, finishing the doctor’s words.

“Yes.”

“Taken by the road.”

Simon leaned back and drifted into thought. “It’s just like our dreams. The book is exactly like our dreams.”

“Yes. Now you see why I’m so desperate. I need to know everything you know about the road.”

Simon gave a frustrated sigh. “If there’s more I don’t remember it.”

“But you believe the story is true?” Dr. Grover asked.

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. I tried to tell myself the whole thing is psychosomatic. The book I read was simply a metaphor. It wasn’t really about us. It was about the struggle between two halves of the same mind. The doctor represents the rational side. The patient represents the irrational. The road is simply the line that separates the two.”

“You don’t really believe that. Do you?” asked Simon.

“What’s the alternative? That we’re both crazy?”

“No. The alternative is that the doctor represents both. Sane and insane.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know what the road is doctor. I’ve been there.”

“So have I. There was nothing out there!”

“Not for you. Or so you think. Listen to me. If there’s one thing I know. That road is not a barrier…it’s a gateway.”

“To what?”

Simon shook his head. “If I knew the answer to that I don’t think I’d be in here,” he said motioning with his arm toward the four walls of the hospital room.

“But you’re not in here,” said Dr. Grover. “You’re getting out.”

Simon smiled. “Yes.”

There was another moment’s hesitation from the doctor then he asked his next question. “Do you think…if you went back there…do you think perhaps you might be shown more?”

Simon considered this question for a long time then asked, “Do you?”

Dr. Grover closed Simon’s file and stood up from his chair.. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying this session’s over.”

The doctor placed his the chair back in the corner and opened the door to the room and motioned for Simon to follow him out.

“Let’s get you out of here. You’ve got somewhere to be…we both do.”

Dr.. Grover stood at the doorway, but when he turned back Simon had yet to stand up from the bed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Something’s still missing. There’s a piece we haven’t connected.”

“What’s that?”

Simon looked up at him with a genuine expression of dread on his face. “The golden apples.”

…OF THE DEVIL

The discharging of patient Simon Fielding took a little less than hour. Many forms had to be signed, both by the doctor and by Simon and there was a 30-day supply of medications that they had to be pick up at the pharmacy on the second floor.

When Simon finally took his first steps out of the facility he felt numb. Dr. Grover waited patiently as Simon set his suitcase on the ground and surveyed the outside world beyond the boundaries of the staff parking lot.

The overwhelming display of activity was almost more than he could take. There were several men and women conversing with one another as they walked from their cars to their offices at the various administration buildings surrounding the clinic. Simon watched them move about then he switched focus to the construction site across the street. There were workers in orange vests, making measurements, unloading tools, drinking hot coffee from Styrofoam cups and telling jokes.

Simon switched his gaze to the row of trees, planted between the concrete squares in the sidewalk that wrapped around the parking lot. He thought about all his supervised walks around the recreation area in the hospital’s courtyard and how the tress there never moved to a breeze, because there was no breeze, not in the courtyard.

The trees he was looking at now were all swaying in the wind, their leaves flapping and shaking the branches as the gusts blew stronger and stronger.

To Simon, this was the greatest sign of freedom he could see. Tears swelled in his eyes.

Dr. Grover became concerned. “Are you all right?”

“I guess it’s time,” Simon replied then he picked up his suitcase and motioned for the doctor to lead the way.

“That’s my car, over there,” Dr. Grover said, pointing to the white Lexus in the area marked by a sign that read: Doctors parking only.

“Would you like to put your belongings in the trunk?”

Simon nodded and the doctor fished for his keys in his pocket and found the electronic beeper that he pressed to unlock the car. He grabbed the handle of the trunk and opened the lid, there was plenty of room inside and Simon was able to fit his suitcase in without difficulty.

Dr. Grover shut the trunk and walked over to the driver’s side door and opened it. He got in and started the car.

Simon opened the passenger’s side door and he too got in. Two minutes later, they were exiting the staff parking lot of the hospital and making a left down the main street, stopping at the intersection, where the doctor made a decision to cross over to the neighborhood avenue that would allow them to travel the more scenic route so that Simon could have more time to adjust to civilization.

“Everything looks so different,” Simon remarked as he stared out the window, watching the houses that passed his line of sight. Houses that had not been there the last time he had ventured through the area.

He realized now that he could not remember how long ago that night had been. The more he tried to focus on the concept of time the more his ability to process slipped away until he was no longer capable of discerning ten years ago from minutes.

“I thought you might have some difficulty with all the changes,” the doctor remarked. “That’s why I decided to take you this way. Help you adjust a little before we get there. I want you to be able to think clearly.”

“You really want to back out there?”

Dr. Grover made a sharp turn unto the intersecting street. “Don’t you?”

“I told you. I just want to be free of this.”

The doctor nodded. “Well I can’t think of a better way to get closure than to face what’s been haunting for so long.”

Simon smirked then turned back to his window. “You don’t have to pretend like this is strictly for my benefit. We both know you this about your…oh my god…”

“What?” Dr. Grover asked, instantly concerned.

Simon had spotted something out his window and the sight of it rendered him speechless.

“Simon, talk to me. What’s happened?”

Simon struggled to formulate his words. He spoke slowly, disillusioned. “That…sign back there…”

The doctor glanced into his rearview mirror. “What sign? You mean the street sign?”

He nodded slowly the suddenly, he laughed. “Ha! Of course,” he said to himself. “I get it now…Ha! How could I have missed it?”

“Get what? Simon. Should I pull over? Are you alright?”

But Simon just kept talking to himself. “God, how could I not have seen it? I did see it. I just didn’t know…”

“Know what? Simon! Talk to me.”

“Would you like me to tell you what’s happening, doctor?”

“Yes!”

“The story. The one you say you read?”

“Yes?”

“It isn’t fiction.”

Dr. Grover frowned. “What are talking about? Of course it is. Simon I told I looked into it. There was never any records of-”

“That’s because the story didn’t happen. Not here.”

“You’re not making sense. What are you saying?”

“You said the book was two stories intertwined. Remember?”

Dr. Grover said nothing his eyes focused on the street in front of him. The Lexus had slowed down to less than 20mph. Traffic was rushing by from the passenger’s side window.

“Dr. Grover,” Simon said snapping his fingers at him.

“Yes Simon?”

“Do you remember?”

“I remember Simon. The second story. What about it?”

“We’re in it! This is the second story. This is the fiction. This place! All around us! The road is tricking us! It’s switched everything around. It’s all reversed. Don’t you get it? We’re trapped! Both of us. Locked inside the same illusion. It never ends. Don’t you see? We’re still on the road! The story just keeps witching back and forth. We can’t get out!”

Dr. Grover smiled. “That’s a very interesting theory you have there.”

Simon glared at him. “You should know.. You read about it.”

“On the contrary, you did. Doctor…”

The words hung in the air. Both men stared fixated at one another until another honking sound from the cars behind interrupted the silent tension.

Dr. Grover checked his rearview and saw that he was holding up traffic. He increased his speed.

“What did you just call me?” Simon asked.

“You heard me. Doctor! I was wondering what it was going to take for you to figure it out.”

“What is this? What’s happening?” Simon’s voice was layered with oncoming panic.

“Oh stop pretending,” the doctor groaned. “I think we’re ready to take the masks off. Aren’t we?”

“What’re saying? Are you…? Are telling me that I’m Dr. Grover?”

“You said it yourself not two seconds ago. It’s all switched around. Everything’s reversed.”

“I meant the stories!”

“Aw, but you are the story Simon…I mean Dr. Grover.” He laughed. “you’ll excuse me. I get a bit confused myself sometimes.”

Simon looked down at his own hands. His mind was spinning. He thought he’d had it all figured out and now this…could it really be? Was he the doctor all along? But then…

“Who are you? If I’m the doctor…who are you? And why are doing this? Why did you pretend to-”

“All these questions you already know the answer to. You researched them yourself. When you were studying to right the book. Mass delusion? Clairvoyance? Remember your studies, doctor. That’s the best way to-"

“Stop calling me doctor! You’re the doctor! You’re doctor Grover! I’m Simon Fielding!”

“Oh please. There is no Simon Fielding that’s all in your head. All of it is. You’ve snapped. Gone nuts. Too many nights on the disturbed ward big fella. Must have just lost your grip.”

“Stop it! Stop messing with my mind! What are trying to do?”

Dr. Grover’s eyes suddenly began to glow. He increased the speed of the car, pushing down on the accelerator, taking the car up to 50mph.

“I just want to help,” the doctor said with a laugh.

Trembling now, Simon began to plead. “No. Please stop!””

But he only went aster.

65mph

70mph

80mph

Simon pointed at him in hysterics. “You’re the one that doesn’t exist! I’m real! I’m Simon Fielding!”

The doctor gave a casual shrug. “Well then. I’d say you’re in quite the predicament.”

“Why!”

“If I don’t exist,” the doctor smiled. “Then tell me…who’s driving this car?”

Simon’s face went pale. “Oh no…The dream,” he whispered.

Instantly, the doctor vanished before his eyes. The steering wheel spun wildly out of control, directing the car into the neighboring lane of oncoming traffic.

Simon screamed and reached for the wheel. Too late. He glanced out window and with the remaining seconds of his life, stared in fixated horror at the massive produce truck, blaring it’s horn as it drove straight for him, attempting to slam on the brakes.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…..

The man sitting at the bus stop heard the sound of tires squealing. It was followed very abruptly by the deafening thunder of impact.. His eyes darted to the source just in time to witness the explosion of shattering glass and crunching metal.

The Lexus was struck so hard on the passenger’s side that car whipped around in a half circle, then turned upside down. The roof had caved in. There was blood splattered all over what remained of the front windshield.

The truck had attempted to spin out the of car’s at the moment of impact, which caused it to topple over on it’s side as the coming from traffic behind struck the edge of the truck’s storage compartment causing the back doors to burst open. Over two dozen crates flew out of the storage unit and were instantly struck by vehicles in the neighboring lane.

The man at the bus stop gasped as he saw the wooden crates explode and a wave of gold apples rained down on the scene of the tragedy.

Golden apples.

Everywhere.

Suddenly people were everywhere. They came running from out of the houses and cars from down the street. The man at the bus stop snapped out of his trance and reached into his pants pocket to retrieve his cell phone.

He quickly dialed 9-11 and within in two seconds he was speaking to a dispatcher.

“Police! Yes. Look, there’s been an accident! A terrible, terrible….Oh God…It’s awful. Please. Send an ambulance. I’m at…”

The man paused realizing he didn’t know his exact location so he stepped out of the bus stop and walked to the corner of the sidewalk and looked up at the two street signs attached to a steel post.

“I’m on First Street…First and May…the corner of First and May…Please hurry! I don’t think they’re gonna make it….”

The man shut off his phone, put it back in his pocket and put a hand over his mouth. He knew he would not sleep tonight.

THE ROAD’S END

When the medics pulled the sheriff from the front seat of the patrol car and out of the ditch, they knew he was still alive.

They set him on the ground a few feet from the wreck and began to examine him.

“Sheriff? Can you hear me?” one of them asked.

Too weak to reply the sheriff just lay there, squinting from the flashes of red and blue lights that seemed to be coming from all around. Then he felt the touch of someone’s fingers on his throat.

“I got a pulse,” one of the medics announced to his crew.

“Let’s get him on that stretcher,” another medic replied. “Ready? Lift!”

The sheriff moaned in pain as he was placed on the stretcher and fastened in. The medic that had been trying to speak to him now forced his lids open and shined a handheld flashlight in both pupils.

“Sheriff, can you hear me?” the medic asked.

The sheriff blinked repeatedly as the fingers lifted from his eyelids and the flashlight moved away. He saw spots for a minute until his vision returned. He could see the medic’s face now. It was dark out, but the red flashing of sirens helped illuminate his features. He was very young.. A kid no more than twenty.

“Everything’s going to be fine. You’ve been in an accident. Were puttin’ you

in an ambulance right now. We’re gonna get you to the hospital, alright? Now sheriff, can you tell me your name?”

The sheriff strained to remain conscious, gasping for breath in an attempt to speak the men who were carrying him.

One of the medics heard him wheeze a sound and leaned in closer to try and hear better. “What was that? Sheriff, try not to move your head. Just relax and tell me again. What is your name?”

“Am I…still dreaming?” His voice still too faint for the medic to hear over the chaotic sounds of fire trucks, police radios and the shouts of several officers instructing their men to seal the area with CAUTION tape.

“I can’t hear him,” said the lead medic to the others assisting him. “I think he asked if he was dreaming.”

“He’s delusional,” another medic replied. “Probably in shock. Lets get set for blood pressure. I need this man’s vitals. ASAP.”

“I’m on it,” said the lead medic as he turned to open the kit at his side, but the sheriff reached up and grabbed his shirt, desperate for an answer to his question. “Am I out? Am I free?”

“What’s he saying now?” a third medic asked the other two.

“I don’t know,” one of them replied.

“See if you can get him to give us his name.”

The lead medic removed the sheriff’s hand that was tugging at his shirt and forced his arm back down in order to begin securing him in place on the stretcher with the leather buckles attached to both sides of the platform.

“Sheriff, please hold still and try to relax. Now sir… Can you tell us your name?”

The sheriff cleared his throat and nodded slightly. “My name is Douglas Grover…I’m a doctor.”

“He’s delusional alright,” the lead medic announced to his crew. “C’mon shut those doors. Let’s get this ambulance rolling. Now!”

The crew shut the ambulance doors and within thirty seconds the vehicle was speeding away from the scene, sirens blaring.

Dr. Grover lay on the stretcher and closed his eyes. He felt the hum of engine and listened to the smooth sound of wheels in motion. The rest he tuned out. All the commotion, the shouting from the medics, the endless wails of the siren, it all seemed to drown out under the immense relief that subside all pain and most importantly all fear.

I’m free. Death in both worlds has set me free.

He felt sorry for the man whose body he had taken, but it was the only way out. A switch. He had figured it out when he’d read the book. He remembered the story now. After all, it was he who had written it.

He had to play along with Simon, pretend that he was real. He had to take him from that hospital, drive him passed that sign to make him think his world was merely fiction. Make him believe that he was Dr. Grover. Then at the moment of Simon’s realization, he had to lure him to his death by disappearing, leaving no one to drive the car.

But he hadn’t really disappeared. He had simply become one Simon at the moment of the crash. Killing both the fantasy and the “believed” reality.

Once he had crossed over he was still one with Simon. He deliberately allowed himself to found walking aimless on the Interstate. He allowed himself to be taken to County Hospital..

Once there, he separated from Simon, long enough to release him from the hospital, the way he done many times before. In the book.

He knew eventually his repeated escapes would attract attention from the police. Each time he slowly led the sheriff out to the road. Then, finally, he sent the message to him on the radio, telling him the story of the escapes, making the fiction real in his mind. This was necessary. For only if he believed the story to be true, could his mind be taken over. And with his mind his body.

And so it had been. The sheriff had believed. All Dr. Grover had to do next was cause the “accident” as he had done before with Simon.

It worked. It all worked. I found the way out. To make believe that is the escape.

With the ambulance gone the rest of the officers at the scene were able to get a better view of the inside of the wrecked police cruiser, assessing what had happened.

The patrol car had flipped over and wound up in a ditch, that much was obvious. The dispatcher, Debbie had called for back up to the scene after repeatedly losing contact with the sheriff. She mentioned that he had taken a man into custody. But now as the officers checked the backseat they saw no one there. They radioed in for an APB and Debbie quickly provided them with the name and description of the assailant. The officers assumed the man was on foot. Perhaps he was still out on the road or possibly wandering out on the Interstate, attempting to flee. At that precise moment there was no way to know for certain for there were no footprints leaving the scene.

After forty-five minutes, a helicopter was flown in to aid in the search, but it was useless. Simon Fielding was nowhere to be found.

When Dr. Grover opened his eyes again he was in the ICU. There were tubes running through his body and both his legs were in casts.

He looked to the entrance of the hospital room and saw a man in a white coat, wearing a surgeon’s mask. He had both hands behind his back as if to conceal something.

The man stepped into the room.

“I know you,” Dr. Grover said to him. “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen all of this”

“Indeed you have,” said the surgeon as he revealed his hand which held a needle. “Because I showed you. Hiding inside some else doesn’t change who you are.”

Dr. Grover knew what was coming next.. He knew the man would insert the needle into the tube of his IV and inject him with a deadly poison. He also knew the poison killed him and the man in the mask would show him his face.

Would he live to see it this time? Yes.

The man stepped away from the hospital bed and removed his mask. Dr. Grover gasped in horror as he saw his own face staring down at him. Then the face became a glow.

“Two halves of the same mind, doctor.” the man explained. “You forget I wrote the story too. Remember all that you see and all that will be shown.”

“No. No please…”

“Shhh. Quite. Shut your eyes and go to sleep. You’re going back where you belong my little sheep…back with me.”

Dr. Grover fought as hard as he could to keep from closing his eyes but as soon the poison in him had reached his heart he felt himself begin to slip away. His rapidly decreasing pulse finally stopped and the monitor he was connected to went flat-line.

Dr. Grover was dead. The monitor continued to show zero pulse for exactly 30 seconds. Then suddenly, there was a heartbeat. The man standing over the body replaced his mask and exited the room.

As soon as he was out the door, Simon Fielding awoke to his dream.

His eyes opened and he was in a strange room. His head was bandaged and he was dressed in hospital issued clothing and he was barefoot.

Simon slowly got up from his bed, disconnected himself from the IV and left the room in search of someone on staff in the emergency room, but when he stepped out unto the main floor he could see no one was there.

He ventured down the corridors of the hospital in search of an exit and found a stairway, which he took all the way down to the ground floor where he searched the lobby for any sign of life.

Still no one.

He saw the sliding glass at the entrance of the hospital and went over them. The doors opened automatically as he approached and he found himself wandering out into the night. Into the empty parking lot, dimly lit by the glow of the full moon hovering from above.

Simon scanned the perimeter of the hospital grounds and saw that area surrounding the building was desolate. A single stretch of road led out to the interstate, but Simon chose not to follow it.

Something he felt inside told him his destination lay elsewhere and that there was another road to follow, hidden beyond the horizon of the land that was before him.

So he walked straight ahead, still barefoot, but feeling no pain as he moved into the field and journeyed through the grove in search of the key that was his beginning.

He walked for miles on end until he was truck by a bright flash and suddenly he was no longer walking through dry wheat, but smooth pavement.

Somehow, he had found the road.

Only, he was not alone now. There was a sound approaching from behind.. He did not turn back to see who it was. He already knew. Just as he now knew why he was out here and where he was headed. He had seen it all in the flash of light.

The sound was of a vehicle, moving slow on the concrete, then finally stopping. The next sound was of a door opening then closing, followed by footsteps.

Here he comes, Simon thought to himself, but still he kept on walking.

The footsteps closed in and now Simon was walking side by side with the man he knew would trying to take him away. Sheriff Keylee.

“Evenin’ Simon,” Keylee said to him. “Where you off to tonight?”

Simon told him. “The corner of First and May.

“How ‘bout I give ya a lift?”

Simon felt a hand being placed on his shoulder that proceeded to guide him over to a patrol car and then gently placed him into the backseat without handcuffing him. Then he shut the door and moved around to the driver’s side and got in.

As the engine started up and the car made a U-turn on the road, heading back in the direction of the interstate, Simon’s eyes ceased there rapid movement long enough for him to catch a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. A slight smirk appeared on his face.
See you in my dreams.