Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 30

Eric continued cupping his neck, where Ms. Vale injected a syringe full of something. He did so with his left, and with his right, he braced the wall beside him. This helped keep him upright, a task that grew challenging as real space blurred evermore. All the while, Ms. Vale kept her distance, face cautious. Then her eyes twitched downward when Eric's left foot shifted forward.

Eric smirked. She thinks I'm trying to attack her. If I only could.

He relished the idea–grabbing Ms. Vale by her elegant black shirt, then tossing her over the railing, and onto that beautiful chandelier. In truth, his leg jutted outward to keep him upright, nothing more. But while this worked, his rubbery appendages eventually lost the battle.

Eric's knees buckled, and he collapsed like an imploding building. He bounced on unresponsive knees, toppled forward, and to brace for impact, he extended his arms. They did nothing to break his fall.

His arms buckled just like his legs, without the slightest bit of resistance, and an instant later, his head and torso crashed onto the floor.

Blurriness increased, and Eric couldn't tell if that was from the injected substance, or his head smacking onto the floor. Whatever the cause, reality would soon fade to black, and when it did, he doubted he would ever see its light again.

But the world didn't slip into darkness. It went to the precipice, but stopped short of going over.

The injected substance numbed Eric into paralysis, but his awareness remained intact. He appreciated maintaining his wits, but the sensation also chilled him, like his body had vanished, and only his ghost remained. In a way, this made him desire unconsciousness. But awake he remained. And he was even awake enough to make out the room's voices.

"He's done," Chad said, words sounding distant but clear.

"Get him out of the Goddamn hallway," Ms. Vale responded.

Seconds later, hands shimmied underneath Eric's armpits, then dragged him into Chad's room.

Eric felt nothing as this happened, save for some weak sensations in his face. For all he knew, his back could've been broken. As for movement, his head simply wobbled freely while carried, then it wobbled once more when Chad gripped his shirt, and flipped him onto his back.

Eric could make out most of the room, despite not being able to turn his head, as he could shift his gaze about. With his eyes cranked over, he saw Ms. Vale close Chad's door and turn the latch, locking all three of them inside.

Door secured, she walked over to Eric and stared down. Eric stared right back, regretting once more that he didn't upend her over the railing.

"Is he fully immobile?" she asked.

Chad, who was rechecking the door, likewise walked over and looked down. Then he nudged Eric with his shoe, the lump of meat shifting meekly. "Yeah. He's out. He's awake but he can't feel or move." Chad knelt by Eric's head, then examined the lump with thoroughness that could only come from training. "How much did you give him?"

"Just one dose. And only the paralyzing agent."

"One dose of Mivacurium," Chad said, speaking more to himself, and while shifting Eric's chin around, "into a one-hundred-and-sixty pound male." He let go, then shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. "Ten minutes. He'll be like this for ten minutes." He took a breath. "Well, what now?"

"What do you think."

It was an answer, not a question, and judging by the way Ms. Vale delivered it, Eric knew he was in trouble.