Next up, Hunter had been pulled into the back. He was placed into the chair and strapped down, then attached to two IVs just as Dylan had been. He glanced at the clock as it said 15:34. It was the only thing in this room he could notice; everything else was plain. He could feel uncomfort from his arm. It became sore to hold it in the position Tabitha had placed it in. She gave him a similar rundown to Dylan, and then she injected him with a purple serum. He felt his eyelids get heavier, but he knew what Dylan had said. She was going to dig through his memories. Maybe it was best not to think at all. He let his eyes close on his own terms and held them there, remaining in full awareness of his real surroundings as she spoke. He could hear the beeping of a heart monitor. Latching onto the sound, he started to count, but it suddenly got harder for him to focus. He was trying to stay in touch with his mind, but also in touch with his surroundings. It was like trying to stay awake after being up for days at a time. He could feel it all slipping away.

  “Hunter, show me your favorite pastime.” Without control, he couldn’t help but spark a small memory of him playing football. Upon those words, that was the first thing that came to mind for him. Once the memory sparked, there was no stopping the whole picture from forming. He looked down at the ground, his helmet obstructing only a little bit of his view as he knelt and put his hands on the turf. He heard the whistle and locked out his legs, then the kick sounded. He immediately ran forward and clashed with another player. He pushed them aside and ran, whipping back around to catch the ball before running full speed ahead in the opposite direction. His teammates took care of anyone trying to take him down, and then someone bashed into him from the side. It knocked him off balance, but he stayed upright, leaning to overcorrect the sudden blow. He used it as fuel to keep running, and he made it into the end zone. He threw the ball on the ground and jumped up, throwing his hands in the air as the crowd roared. He couldn’t help but smile, staring at the full stands as they cheered for him. A couple of players ran up to him, patting him on the shoulders. They would slam their helmets into his and push eachother around with beaming smiles. Rough celebrations were the most meaningful. He started to look around, soaking in the moment. He felt his heart beating a little faster. He knew this had already happened, but why was he here? Why could he feel the sweat running down his face again? He wanted to go back. He stopped walking and stared into the stadium lights. The lights that would shine on him every night of his high school career. He was a senior, and it was his last year as a small-town all-star quarterback. Captain of the football team. He was living the all-star dream. He turned around quickly, his heartbeat going down as he realized he was on a basketball court. The ball was in his hands. He ran down the court, passing it to Colton in the outer corner. Colton shot for the three, and he made it. Everyone else ran down the court, but Hunter stayed behind, pacing a run with Colton and patting him on the back. They turned around towards the opposing team, facing the two tall boys slowly making their way towards them. He watched their eyes that looked everywhere but in one area. They looked at every player, but one, and that was where the ball was going to be passed. He bolted to the right and jumped up, swatting the ball out of the air as it was passed and landing it right into Colton’s hands. They ran back down the court, Hunter standing beneath the basket as Colton passed it to Peter. Peter shot and missed, but Hunter rebounded and got it in. The three of them ran inwards, patting each other's backs and yelling in triumph. The roar of the crowd was always a good enough reward for them. Every time he heard his name over the overhead speakers, he got an adrenaline rush that nothing else could provide. Each time his name was called, he held his fist into the air, slapping the bracelet on his wrist and holding it to the sky. It was for his father.

  “Hunter, where did that bracelet come from?” He brought the bracelet down in front of him and stared at it for a while, and when he looked back up, his dad was right in front of him, lying in a hospital bed. The bracelet was gone from his wrist now. Hunter was fairly short in comparison to the bed, but he could still poke his head over the edge to see him. His dad reached over, scruffing up his thin hair.

  “I have something for you,” His dad always used a lot of strength to speak to him while keeping his eyes open, and his face friendly. With a smile, he handed Hunter a small box. “Don’t open this until tomorrow. Every time you see it, remember that I'm always with you," Hunter took the box in both of his hands and looked down at it. He looked back as his mom lifted him onto the bed and took the box from him.

  “Is it time, Dad?” Hunter frowned. His dad gave him another warm smile, but as he breathed out, he couldn’t help but cough. He lifted his arm for Hunter to hug him. “Do you really have to go?”

  “Yeah, buddy, I do,” his dad patted his head a few times before resting his weak hand on top of Hunter. “We talked about this, though, it isn’t goodbye. You be good to your mom, and in time you’ll see me again.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” Hunter hugged him and kissed him on the forehead. His dad sat there for a while, holding him, keeping a smile on his face until his mom took him out of the room. That was the last day he saw his dad before he passed. The next morning, his mom gave him the box his dad had given him. It was a black bracelet with a gold-plated infinity symbol. From that day on, he never took it off. The memory shifted for him; his high emotion that was opening a deep pit in his stomach started to take control. He looked back up from the bracelet, and he was standing in the yard, a football the size of his head clasped between his hands. He threw it at his dad, who managed to catch it halfway, and he threw it back to him.

  “Step back a little bit, Hunt, see how far you can throw it,” His dad kneeled since most of Cooper's throws were aimed at his lower legs, but this time, when Hunter threw it, the ball went way over his dad’s head. He looked back, astonished, then ran up to Hunter and lifted him in the air. His joyous laughs filled his head, echoing on the empty walls. “You’re already a star football player, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to the NFL,” Hunter laughed as his dad sat him back down.

  “I’m sure you are, buddy,” His dad patted him on the back. “A couple more throws, then your mom is going to get angry with us for putting off dinner.” Hunter ran around his dad’s legs and back to the football. When he reached down for the ball, a voice cut through the memory. It cut through the warmth from the pure childhood joy he felt.

  “What were you doing the day of the bombing?” As he reached down for the football and picked it up, he found himself on Windland’s football field once again. He recognized Tabitha's voice. He forgot she had been in the real world with him this whole time. He looked around, staring at the players scattered all around the field. They were setting up again for another play. He knelt, waiting for the play to go, and then he ran through the wall of players once again. He could hear shoulder pads and helmets slamming together. He turned back, caught the ball, and made a run for the first opening he saw. He barely slipped past, a couple of hands catching and slipping off his jersey. He ran halfway across the field and into the end zone, holding the ball in the air as the crowd cheered. A couple of his friends jumped around him, celebrating the touchdown. He looked up, staring at the lights appearing in the clouds. In that moment, he saw something falling through. A dark object was falling, and it landed right on the stands. It happened too quickly for him to comprehend, but in that moment, amongst the shaking of the ground and the shockwave that blew them all back, he saw another one land right next to him. Immediately, his vision went dark, but he didn’t lose consciousness. He felt everything. He felt the blast snap his arm, twisting his body to the side and twisting his ankle. He fell to the ground, his ears ringing and his head pounding. The little vision he gained a moment after the blast was gone again as he hit the ground. His whole body tensed all at once, and he felt all of his muscles release. He slipped away.

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  His eyes slowly opened, his ears still ringing. He saw a helmet lying next to him, bearing the number of his friend, but there were no other remains. He couldn’t bring himself to sit up, either. He had an unbearable amount of pain wash over him. He couldn't stifle the screams, his arm aching and burning unbearably as he sat himself up. He couldn’t move it. The more his body moved, the more his arm swung uncontrollably around, and that made it hurt the most. He managed to crawl on his knees to the goal post while holding his arm with his good hand, but when he got there, he only leaned his head against the pole. He groaned in pain, pinching his eyes shut. His head was throbbing. He could hear people screaming and sirens, but he had no clue what was going on around him. He looked down at his wrist, staring at the pendant on his bracelet. He had to keep going, but he couldn't move his arm. His friends had just been vaporized in front of him.

  He slowly stood up, almost toppling over as he put weight on his twisted ankle. All he had to do was make it to the crowd. Slowly, he limped, trying to put the least amount of weight on his foot as he could while he squeezed his arm to hold it in place. Sometimes he forgot to breathe and found himself holding his breath. Each time he did, though, his vision would darken. He didn't realize something wrapped around him until he felt pressure around his ribcage and a slight ease in the pain. Someone was helping him walk. He closed his eyes and let them guide him for the next two minutes as he groaned. The moment they came to a stop, he went semi-limp, letting himself melt to the ground. “I’m going to remove your helmet, okay?” He opened his eyes after his helmet was off, and in front of him was a girl he recognized. It was Jacob’s cousin.

  “Of course it’s you,” He whispered. He looked at the Windland EMT shirt she was wearing and couldn't help but laugh, but the pain turned it into a groan. His breath was stifled as he could barely listen to what she was saying. He slowly released his hand from his arm, carefully laying it limply on the ground. His eyes shut so he could listen to his breathing and heartbeat. Between the pain and his pulse, he couldn’t hear anything else. He could feel pressure on his arm, and when he opened his eyes again, his arm was in a handmade splint. He didn't have to hold it in place anymore. She helped him to his feet and delivered him into the triage bay. He looked back to thank her and ask about Jacob and their friends, but she was already moving to help the next victim nearby.

  “Who is this girl? What are your memories of her?” The memory seemed to come to a stop. Everyone around him stopped moving, and the pain was gone. He stepped forward, looking around at the frozen landscape. She wanted to know who Amelia was. He thought back to the radio and how Jacob had shown up alone, but his thoughts weren’t forming memories. They were isolated in his own head, somewhere where Tabitha couldn’t reach. She wanted to know about Amelia, but what if that was why Jacob was afraid? What if he couldn’t say anything during their visit because he knew they would be digging in everyone’s minds? Amelia was on the other side of the radio, and her position couldn’t be given away. He needed to get out of here. He took a deep breath and replied.

  “Jacob’s cousin,” He replied, trying to remain calm. “She’s from the south. She and her family aren’t from around here. She died in the bombing,” He lied. He felt a ping in his stomach at the thought of converting his own thoughts, but that wasn’t his fear. He would have to make sure everyone didn’t give away her position either, and that would especially be hard for the three who were from Hartland. Surely a small change in the story would be doable, but he wouldn’t have very long to explain to them what to do and how to do it.

  “A shame,” She muttered. He didn’t think he was supposed to hear that, but he was becoming more aware. He could feel the straps around him, but he could still see the frozen memory. He blinked hard, hoping that if he blinked hard enough, his real body would blink too. He kept blinking until it stuck. His heart jumped, every organ in his body feeling like he just fell through the floor. His eyes shot open, and he glanced around, the pain still lingering in his arm. It hurt to move his fingers. Tabitha unstrapped him, but she looked concerned. “You woke up early,” She looked him up and down. “That’s the first time anyone has woken up uncontrolled.” He looked at her, confused and unsure of what to say. He didn't know why he was different, but he didn’t care. That was the last thing on his mind. “Go on ahead back to the bunks; the rest of them will be joining you shortly.” As he walked out the door, he saw the clock. 15:36. He closed the door behind him and looked around the room.

  “I need you all to listen, okay? No questions asked, not right now.” Immediately, everyone’s eyes were on him. “When you’re in there, if she asks about Amelia, she died in the bombing,” He could see the confusion in everyone’s faces, especially in my friends’. “They can’t know she’s alive. I’ll explain later. You all got that?” He looked around, making sure everyone was nodding their heads in understanding. He walked out, clenching his fists as he made his way back to the bunks. He sought out Dylan and sat next to him, then leaned forward and put his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. “I need to talk to Jacob again,” He looked up and ran his hands through his thin hair. “I found a way around the simulation. I could choose to show her some of the things I know, but some thoughts were still only inside of my head. Tabitha seemed really interested in the people she didn’t know,” he kept his hand gripping his hair as he sat and thought.

  “I couldn’t remember it very well, but she asked about my family. She wanted to know what they were like. She asked a lot about Jacob, though. I had more memories with him than anything else. It's like she was looking for something.” Hunter nodded in agreement with Dylan.

  “She is. I don’t know what she’s looking for, but she’s trying to find something in our heads. She was asking me about Amelia.” He stood up. “I think she’s on the other side of that radio, but I'll explain later. Amelia died in the bombing, if anyone asks. Okay?” Dylan furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s what happened. Tell me more about your run-through, and I'll go and find Jacob.”