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Walker's eyes flicker. Oxygen
fed through mask on his face keeps his body ticking over. Cryogenic stasis
has kept his body in tact. His brain has rested deep in something like a
coma. For three years and five months exactly, Walker and the rest of the
survivors of the Longfox have been kept in a lost place. Neither here nor
there. A loop hole, which can keep the unfortunate person in a survival
cone for years.
His eyes flicker again. It is like he watches something behind the closed
lids, rapid eye movement. All persons using the survival cones go through
this process. Each one beginning to awake from slumber to which they were
abruptly forced.
The survival cones drift toward nowhere. In the survivors minds, only
a minute or two has passed. Within Walker's mind images click on and off
through a sea of blackness, cloaked over in disorientation. Sgt. Reed
laughing with a big balloon head. Alan's girlfriend being fucked by a
thousand men. His mother and father engulfed in flames, their skeletons
charred then turned to dust with familiar home surroundings left standing.
Walker sees himself but not himself. Exactly the same in appearance but
with a war torn posture, hollow face, with no black pupils: eyes shining
white.
Images disappear. Black begins to fade up to hazy grey as the soldier
wakes.
to it |
