Read Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero for Free Online Page B

blared to life, as though the radio had tuned itself to a new station. No music followed, only a voice that brought a rise of panic inside him.
    “I’m sorry Jonathan. The selection process is not always clear. I don’t know that you are right for this,” said the voice of his attacker. “You’ll know what to do. I’ll be there to help you, when it comes. Follow your—”
    Whatever the blond man had been saying had faded out. Jonathan’s mind had shut down completely. Not even a dream could persist.
    Waking from those drug induced depths had been slow, fragmented.
    He didn’t immediately remember what had happened and at first it was just unpleasant sensations. The floor he was on felt wrong. Cool and hard against his back, not comfortable like a mattress should be. He was damp. His eyes were shut but the darkness had retreated, and he’d become aware of light hitting the surface of his closed lids. His thoughts had become more lucid.
    Did I get sick drinking? Did I sleep on the bathroom floor? He had heard his name over and over again as if it were far away.
    “Jonathan! Jonathan!”
    He thought he recognized the voices. He could hear their panic, but had still been too distant to share in their fear.
    Are Hayden and Collin yelling for me? He’d thought.
    Why did they sound so upset, so desperate? He’d felt like he should wake up, see what the problem was, but he couldn’t open his eyes. He was caught between states, and couldn’t will himself back to consciousness. He’d remembered that he didn’t want to wake up, that he didn’t want what waited for him in the waking world. He just couldn’t remember why.
    There had been something wrong with his chest. He’d remembered that the muscles felt like they had fallen asleep. They tingled with the pins and needles that came with lack of blood flow. A sensation he’d had in his limbs, but never his chest.
    Hayden and Collin’s voices had grown louder. He’d been aware of hands on his exposed skin. There was a stinging jolt to his face. Were they slapping him? The feeling in his chest wasn’t fading. It was moving, spreading down his abdomen, up into his shoulders and around his back. As he noticed it, pain surfaced as well. His shoulder hurt, the right side of his neck as well.
    My neck, it seemed important. The memories began rushing in, gripping Jonathan in panic.
    There was someone in the house. He’d had something in his hand.
    He didn’t recall bolting up, just that the drowsiness holding him had vanished and been replaced with a tidal wave of adrenaline. Remembering the needle in his neck and the liquid forced into his vein had triggered an onset of fear that overpowered the drugs still keeping him sedated. He’d darted up gasping for breath, panting as though he’d surfaced from a pool after being held under for too long.
    The light stung his eyes and he was forced to shut them. Collin and Hayden were kneeling on either side of him. As he fought to see against the brightness he saw their expressions. The intensity of the concern in their eyes had driven him deeper into panic.
    Time had seemed broken, it moved in fits and starts that he didn’t understand. Sounds and sights were dulled and myopic. Within the MRI machine, trying to recall it, the memories didn’t seem to belong to him. He thought he must have lost his sanity, and it wasn’t clear when he’d regained it; if he’d regained it.
    He’d seen the blood, but hadn’t at first believed it could be his. His hands were red and wet with it, shaking in front of him. He couldn’t make them stop. The trembling wasn’t coming from his hands. They were like tree limbs swaying in the wake of an earthquake, a symptom of the tremors in his core. He looked to Collin and Hayden for help. They stared back at him wide eyed, the helplessness clear on their faces. No one knew what to do and it was terrifying.
    Suddenly, he’d grown sick and faint. He turned over on his hands and knees vomiting.