Janie and The Gray: Part 18
Dreams. Part eighteen of a dystopian science-fantasy serial.
I was ejected from a dreamless sleep by a sudden and disorienting terror. I leapt to my feet, heart beating wildly and my hands held out defensively. Where am I? Where are they? This isn't the factory. Reality gradually took hold as my eyes processed my surroundings — the warmly lit room, couch, wrappers, soda cans, blankets at my feet, and Ryan sprawled atop the reclined chair. He snored softly like a purring cat. Chill out, Janie. You're safe.
I plopped down on the sofa and cocooned myself again in blankets — their weight and warmth soon smothered my fear. I descended into sweet unconsciousness.
I woke to a loud noise and sat up. It was Ryan. Still asleep in the chair, he groaned and mumbled. His whole body shuddered once.
"Had to," he said, his voice soft.
"They're gonna find out." His words became sharp and clear.
His head rolled from side to side. "No, no, no, no. I had to. I had to. I had to. I had to," he pleaded.
This continued like a nightmarish liturgy. A call and response. A conversation between accuser and accused. A chill washed over me. I went to him.
"Ryan, wake up. Ryan —"