The Gatherers

 The Gatherers

By Indigo Giordana-Altu

Panic- it is the feeling that Shannon awoke with on most occasions and this day was no exception as she crashed to the floor in sync with the rising of the sun. Screaming out in pain from what was sure to be another bruise, she slowly rolls toward her bed to use it as leverage to lift herself up. Her pixie style hair clings to her sweat tracked forehead as she moans her way to the bathroom of her shabbily furnished kitchenette. Racing her to the door is a cockroach in search of its next meal. Too pained to care, she closes the door and sits on the toilet while keeping a close eye on the villainous insect. Releasing a steady stream of urine built up from a night of tossing back several low quality beers, her heart returns to a resting rate as she is now sure that nothing in the dream could have been real. Feeling no further threat by the dream or the roach that has disappeared into a crack at the base of the sink, she gently wipes the filthiness of her morning business and flushes it away. She sighs in acknowledgment that it is time to prepare for another long day at her job that only further validates her mundane existence.

As she showers, she hears the ring of her mobile phone. “Uggh, I swear. It’s like clockwork. You would think people are using spy cams just waiting for the moment I step in.”

Shannon turns off the water and makes her way to her table to answer the phone. She glances down to see the image of her best friend Brandy on the screen. It is a fun photo of her with eyeliner drawn whiskers and her hair as wild as any king of the jungle. Both wards of the state as children and turned loose with nothing to their names at age eighteen, the two recognize each other as the only family they will ever have. Shannon grins and answers, “What’s up?” There is no sound. “Hello? Brandy?” Hearing nothing, she ends the call and sends a text to Brandy that reads, “Did you try to call me?” Seeing no immediate response, Shannon gets dressed in her customary black pants, white shirt, and hunter green lap apron. She affixes her nametag and puts on her back pack. She takes a look at her phone to see if Brandy texted her back but sees nothing. With a concerned frown, she texts her again, grabs her helmet, and heads out to work.

Shannon straddles her purple scooter as she swoops through traffic with expertise. She enjoys feeling the warmth and wind against her face until a red light forces her to stop. While paused, she feels as though she is being watched. She turns to notice a man staring at her. He is an older man with chiseled features that lend no assertion of inner kindness. Their eyes meet and it is as though she is pulled directly into his soul to see and feel his entire lifetime. The moment flashes her back to last night’s dream. In it, there was a man much like him. He had her strapped to a table in an all-white room. Her scalp was peeled back and he was preparing to cut into her skull with a saw. Shannon shudders at the thought of the dream and is relieved that the light has changed so she can proceed and get away from the view of the man. She goes as fast as the scooter will allow, checking her mirrors the whole way in fearful caution.

During one of Shannon’s glances, she looks a little too long when she sees the man’s car approaching. Suddenly there is a screeching of tires. Shannon looks forward to see a light that she should have stopped at and fails miserably at breaking before the scooter slams into the front end of another car. Her body lifts off of the scooter and tumbles across the hood at the same time that the car behind it adds another life threatening impact causing Shannon to collide with the pavement and be hit by another car that was desperately trying to stop in time. Onlookers cry out at the now bloody scene. Uninvolved with the incident, the man that Shannon had been nervous about exits his vehicle and rushes to her as his M.D. badge makes large pendulum swings identifying him as Dr. Rygan VonCzeckle. He shouts instructions at the quickly forming crowd as he evaluates Shannon’s brutalized but still breathing body. He glances back at the driver of the car who looks at him vacantly.

It isn’t long before reporters, police, and paramedics take over at the scene that looks fit for a coroner. Somehow, one is not needed. Dr. VonCzeckle is applauded by those who share stories of his heroics and medical savvy that kept Shannon alive. Not particularly welcoming of the praise, he takes his leave of the area but chooses to follow the speeding ambulance to the hospital. He strains his eyes to try to make out the activity taking place in the cabin of the ambulance. For him, it was a sign of her survival if they were indeed still moving about inside. Before long, after a few near accidents of its own, the ambulance arrives at the hospital. The paramedics rush Shannon inside and Dr. VonCzeckle is only but a few steps behind. The paramedics quickly exchange information with the doctors on staff. Dr. VonCzeckle attempts to introduce himself and offer information but, not knowing him, he is treated as all other non-related visitors and sent away from the double doors that led to her unconscious hopes of being saved.

Shannon’s injuries were unlike any that they had recently seen on someone that is still living. Within moments she was in surgery. Hours go by before they classify her as stable enough to be moved to the intensive care unit. Even there, it is without guarantee that she will make it through the night. All the while, Dr. VonCzeckle lingered. He knows that this hospital will never be able to help her in the way that he can. Sure that her fate will be death without him, he barges into the office of the director. A startled round faced man looks up at him demanding to know who he is and why he has come in uninvited.

“Pardon my intrusion but I am deeply concerned about a patient that was brought in today. My name is Dr. Rygan VonCzeckle.”

The director looks at him with awe. “What an honor. I apologize for not recognizing you. I am a fan of your studies.”

With an uncomfortable shift, Dr. VonCzeckle replies, “Thank you. Unfortunately, I was not so easily received by some of your staff. You have a patient here that I would like to examine.” Dr. VonCzeckle goes on to explain the accident and what took place. Like a bobble head, the director nods and listens intently. When he is done with his explanation for his request, the director takes a deep contemplating breath and taps his pen on the table. Pursing his lips and then rolling his eyes, he sighs and hesitantly says, “You are an esteemed neurosurgeon and I would love to have you here but, under this rather abrupt circumstance, I am afraid that there is not enough time for proper clearance and too much malpractice risk involved.” Dr. VonCzeckle boils inside and stares at the director. He takes a pen and a checkbook out and asks, “How much?” “Excuse me?” he responds. Dr. VonCzeckle hardens his tone, “I have been in the medical field long enough to know how this works. Give me the figure.” The director takes a memo sheet out and writes on it. He slides it across the desk in Dr. VonCzeckle’s direction.

Giving a consenting nod, he scribbles across the check and hands it to the director who quickly folds it and puts it away in his jacket pocket. The two walk to Shannon’s room where nurses are present. After a brief discussion with them, Dr. VonCzeckle is left in the room with Shannon who seems barely present in any aspect.

He looks at her in the same way that he looked at her when he first saw her on the road. Through all the hardness of his features, it is a look of admiration and intrigue. He is momentarily entranced and then snaps back into his realization of purpose. He reads over the charts that have been left behind and nods resolutely. He examines her in depth and then leaves the room. Before long, Dr. VonCzeckle is back in the director’s office embroiled in a less than polite exchange. Pacing and hands being thrown up in frustration become repetitive until Dr. VonCzeckle reaches such anger that his fists are pounding on the desk. A security guard rushes in but the director raises his hand in the air to halt him and assure him that everything is okay. The security guard is not so sure that all is well but follows the signal to leave the two of them to their heated conversation. After nearly an hour, another check is written by Dr. VonCzeckle and, some hours later, Shannon is unknowingly airlifted to a private hospital in a secluded location.

Dr. VonCzeckle issues orders to his small staff who has received Shannon prior to his arrival. She is prepped for surgery in a more than efficiently sterile room. There is nothing but white and glitters of silver tools about as a nurse carefully shaves Shannon’s head. Dr. VonCzeckle joins them in the room. Just as a nurse is about to cover Shannon’s mouth with a mask, her eyes open. She tries to speak but it is a faint choppy whisper of inaudible words. The mask is placed over her mouth and again she is out. The nurse gives an affirmed nod to Dr. VonCzeckle, “She is under. What is our procedure today?” Dr. VonCzeckle speaks calmly, “This one is special. We are going to use the EEM.” The surgical staff stands still. The nurse chuckles, “I am sorry but I thought you said you are going to use the EEM.” Without missing a beat, he confirms that it is what he said.

“With all due respect, are you out of your mind?” She questions. Others agree with her inquiry. “She is the perfect patient for it.” The nurse says, “There is no perfect patient for the

Energy Expansion Microchip. None of the animal patients survived and, in her condition, she may not survive basic brain clot removal.” Dr. VonCzeckle becomes irritable. He demands an explanation for her audacity in questioning him. She, in turn, cites him as being unethical. He insists that Shannon is perfect as a human experiment since she already has a slim chance of life and brain surgery is required. In his thinking, adding the EEM could only be a benefit to Shannon and the potentially groundbreaking research. The nurse walks out angrily spouting off contents of the Hippocratic Oath. The other staff members leave one by one. He yells after them telling them that they are fired and that he doesn’t need any of them.

Dr. VonCzeckle checks Shannon’s vitals and proceeds to performing brain surgery. To anyone watching, it is apparent that it is not the first time he has conducted a surgery on his own. Through many intense touch and go moments, he successfully removes the clots and carefully places the EEM chip into her thalamus. He gives a sigh of relief at proper placement and he carefully stitches up her scalp. The sound of Shannon’s vitals are like soothing music to him.

He removes his gloves, washes his hands, and then walks over to her. Again, he gazes at her. He holds her hand and smiles inside though his face shows nothing of the sort.

His staff suddenly enters the room. He is perturbed by their presence. “What are you doing here? I told you all that you are fired.” The nurse assertively says, “We watched the entire surgery from the observation room. It was quite shocking that you completed it on your own. We do not agree one bit with what you have chosen to do but, since you went ahead with it, we realize that we are the only ones with the knowledge necessary for her ongoing care. You know it too. So, let’s keep this professional… for her sake.” “For her sake? Are you certain you don’t mean for the sake of your paychecks?” The nurse says, “Not all of us are swayed by your checkbook, Dr. VonCzeckle. Some of us really care about the work and the potential of your studies for the benefit of humankind. That being said, please move aside so that we may do what we do best.” Dr. VonCzeckle is secretly relieved of their return but is careful to not show emotion as he says, “Very well then but I warn you that if any of you ever walk out on me again, you will never be allowed to return here.”

The staff busily gets Shannon ready to be moved to a private recovery room. Dr. VonCzeckle returns to his office where Shannon’s backpack is sitting in his chair. He picks it up and opens it. He takes out her belongings and finds her license. He caresses her image with his index finger mumbling, “So young” as he notes her age of twenty-three years. He places the card down and labels a file with her name, age, and birth date. He writes down her full name-

Shannon Malloy. Just behind it, he writes EEM #18. After writing down extensive notes related to her case, he unlocks a secret file cabinet behind a panel in his wall. He files it just behind EEM #17… Brandy Sullivan. Dr. VonCzeckle stews as his mulls over the fact that his staff can’t be trusted in the way that he hoped. Today was but a test to see how they would respond to moving on to human subjects and they failed. He had to come up with yet another plan.

Time passes on. In fact, it is years that pass with several reports of missing persons gracing the news. As always, the occurrences come with media frenzy and die down as other anxiety inducing reports take precedence. The missing is soon forgotten and people continue about their business as if nothing ever happened. Among those are Shannon and Brandy who, in their new place of care, can’t remember who they are or how they got there. All they know is what is. They live in a mansion on an island in the middle of nowhere known, with twenty-eight others like themselves who can’t remember anything before living on the island. Having no names that they are aware of, they refer to each other by the number stitched on their clothing.

They receive lessons from Dr. VonCzeckle who, at a time, was also was featured on the news as a missing person. It was a major story and the medical community was deeply hurt by it, offering major rewards for finding him. None ever came forward with information and all took him for being dead. If only they knew that he is alive and well continuing his research on the island. Some would applaud it and others would abhor it.

He acts as a stern but caring father to all his subjects except Shannon who, in a way, he seems to be courting. Shannon always becomes uncomfortable with his advances and he patiently leaves her alone. There is something about his eyes that she can’t shake from her mind.

She even sees them in her sleep and can’t figure out why. In the much the same way, she does not understand why she feels so bonded to # 17. She feels as though she knows her from somewhere. Shannon contemplates this as she begins her day.

Shannon’s hair is now long and it annoys hers. So she twists it into a messy chignon. As she fixes her hair, she hears a Westminster chime sound. Almost robotically she leaves the room and joins the others in a single file line of toned individuals with glowing skin. They all walk to a dining hall where they eat their typical breakfast of oats, nuts, and berries. Like all of their meals, it is intentionally vegan as a part of Dr. VonCzeckle’s health regimen. Not long after breakfast, they engage in rigorous exercise, shower, and then participate in lectures to enrich their minds. Adhering to a rather strict schedule, as a community they clean, garden, and prepare meals. After dinner is when select groups are called to gather.

The gatherers are put through a series of tests of focused energy. It is a difficult process that they have been trained to do. Sometimes it leads to excruciating headaches and bleeding from the ears but Dr. VonCzeckle insists that all must press on. Shannon hates when it is her turn to be one of the gatherers. She is selected most often of any of them because of her NEA-natural energetic ability as Dr. VonCzeckle calls it. Shannon is the only one who has successfully created new outcomes and moved objects through her own individual energy. He marvels over her and chastises others, telling them that they must become more like her.

This evening, it is Shannon’s turn to be among the group of ten gatherers. To her liking, # 17 is there. They have never been in the same group of gatherers before. She gives her a smile that again feels eerily familiar to Shannon. Since Dr. VonCzeckle hasn’t arrived yet, Shannon approaches her. “Hey, Seventeen, what’s up?” She replies, “Eighteen, you know we shouldn’t be talking. Dr. VonCzeckle doesn’t like it before a gathering. You are wasting energy.” “Yeah, whatever you say,” Shannon replies. Dr. VonCzeckle shows up right behind them and looks at Brandy. “Seventeen, why are you here?” “I am on the schedule.” “There must be a mistake.

You are not on this rotation. Come back tomorrow.” Brandy leaves and meets eyes with Shannon. Almost involuntarily, Shannon raises her hands up and makes her fists like paws as she uses them to wave good-bye at Brandy. Brandy reacts with a mimic of a roar and covers her mouth because it shocks her. Both are confused at the exchange that seemed more like a memory. Dr. VonCzeckle nervously ushers Brandy away.

Returning to the circle, Dr. VonCzeckle reminds the gatherers of the procedures. They then form a circle. Dr. VonCzeckle places a coconut in the circle and instructs the group to jointly focus on the coconut cracking open. He tells them to imagine it slowly splitting down the center. The group members focus. The veins in some of their foreheads pulsate. After a while, the coconut begins to tremble. It cracks open and the white milk flows out over the brown earth. The group celebrates their triumph with the exception of Shannon. She knew what was coming. Whenever they succeeded, he always tested the group without her to see if it was them or her that did the work. Just as she expects, he makes her go inside. The gatherers focus on the coconut that is placed before them and, in a half an hour of trying, they only succeed in causing the coconut to move. He calls Shannon to return and, within one minute, the coconut cracks. Though disappointed in the others, he looks at her with astonishment. “You, Sha—eighteen, are a miracle. I want to try something radical tonight. Gatherers sit down and simply observe.” They sit down as instructed and, as Shannon attempts to do so, Dr. VonCzeckle grabs her arm to keep her standing. “I believe that Eighteen can move to the next level… Spontaneous Manifestation of Visualization or SMV, if you will.” Shannon looks at him in puzzlement and asks, “What does that mean?” It means that you will try to picture anything you want right now in this moment and make it appear before you. “That sounds impossible,” Shannon states in exasperation. “Nothing is impossible if you put all of your energy into it and truly focus on attracting it to yourself,” he assures her. The rest of the gatherers agree.

Dr. VonCzeckle speaks to her in an almost hypnotic tone, coaching her into relaxation and visualization. He tells her to allow her mind to relax and search itself for something that it really wants. Shannon begins to focus. It proves difficult and takes much longer than usual but then a sensation runs through her body. It is as though she is filled with excessive joy. Tears run down her cheeks and her aura becomes visible to everyone. She turns her palm toward the sky and her mobile phone appears in her hand. As soon as it materializes, she is weakened and falls to the ground as the others marvel trying to figure out what the object is that she generated. She herself is unsure since they have lived in isolation for so long. Immediately recognizing the phone, Dr. VonCzeckle seizes it. He is torn between excitement and fear of discovery. He knows that if their minds begin to unlock their past, there is danger of uprising.

He pretends to be just as dumbfounded as the others. “You did it, Eighteen! Though, I am not sure what this object is. I will just take it and try to figure it out.” As he is about to put it in his pocket, a ring tone plays. The gatherers jump in reaction to the new sound. Very tired,

Shannon whispers, “Brandy” and then passes out.

Dr. VonCzeckle instructs the others to go inside and he carries Shannon to his room. She is burning with fever. He nurses her throughout the night but the fever does not subside. Shannon remains sick for days and is unresponsive. For the first time ever, no one quite knows what to do at the island. Dr. VonCzeckle has cancelled all classes and gatherings until further notice. Most that approach get yelled at and soon they give up on trying. He is beside himself. None of the books he has on hand are helping and he has reached his limit on ideas. Due to the unexplainable feelings he has for her, he decides to transport her in the middle of the night to the other side of the island where the Yacht is anchored. None of the others know it’s there because they were sedated when he brought them over on it. Their strict schedule has never allowed them to discover it either.

Dr. VonCzeckle continues to take care of her in the best way that he knows how until he reaches the mainland. During the trip, Shannon becomes conscious but is still quite ill. She aches all over and is disoriented. Dr. VonCzeckle enters the room and she yells for help upon sight of him. Shannon’s memory has flooded back to her except she remembers nothing about the island. All she remembers is everything up to the moment of her scooter accident. She recognizes the face of the man that made her so nervous on the road and could not understand why she was alone in a room with him wearing clothing that she did not recognize. She touched her head and could feel the length of her hair. Nothing makes sense.

Dr. VonCzeckle approaches her to try to calm her. When he does, she looks into his eyes and, just as before, she goes deep into the annals of his mind. She is lost in a montage of his memories from his childhood to present. In those memories, she sees Brandy in Dr.

VonCzeckle’s office. She signs a form and is led away by a nurse. In another of the memories, Shannon sees Brandy with a shaved head and using her mind to try to make a call on her mobile phone. The call is to Shannon. Then Shannon sees her accident and herself being operated on. She turns her head away quickly so she is not engaged in any more of his memories. At that moment, Dr. VonCzeckle grabs his head in pain of the experience of her mind searching abilities that existed before his experiments but have obviously gotten stronger. It is an ability that had not been unlocked by Shannon until the day when she first saw him after the dream that was apparently some sort of underdeveloped premonition.

“Who are you? What have you done?” she pleads. “You don’t understand. I am trying to help the world. We can literally have it all,” he explains. “Have all of what?” Dr. VonCzeckle looks at her with innocence, “The ability to have all that we have ever imagined, thus ending all suffering in the world.” Shannon declares that he is out of his mind. She insults the notion that mankind can ever beat its tendency to abuse power of any kind. She argues that he is an example of such abuse and demands to be let go. He reaches for her but she hits him several times. In her weakened condition her jabs barely harm him. Unable to calm her with his words, he reaches for a needle nearby and easily sedates her.

In dismay, he continues to travel to his destination so that she can get help. He also questions himself on how, in his imagination, he ever thought he could have her as a love interest. He rationalized that it was exactly that…Only his imagination which perhaps had gone too far. When he gets to the mainland, he watches the area until he is sure no one is in sight. When all is clear, he carries her and places her on a bench. He calls 911. “911, may I help you?” “Yes. I think there may be an emergency. There is a woman on the bench who seems very sick. I keep trying to talk to her but she won’t answer…” He responds to a few more of their questions and provides them with location information. He hides in the distance to watch as they tend to her and then carry her away. He is torn and wants to follow so badly but decides that he must make his escape. He returns to the yacht and heads back to the island. After reaching the hospital, the staff works quickly to bring down Shannon’s fever. Following antibiotics and fluids, she awakens feeling much better. Her mind is full of memories and knowing all that has taken place. She abruptly sits up in the bed and thinks of Brandy who is stuck on the island. She pushes the nurse call button and says that she needs to file a police report. It isn’t long before the officers arrive and take notes on her highly unbelievable story.

She insists that if they do an MRI, they can find the microchip in her brain. She even asks them to shave her head to look for scars. As the story became more and more wild in nature, the officers told Shannon that they would investigate it but quickly informed the nurses that they believe she needs a psych evaluation. Though they were outside of the room when they said it, Shannon could somehow hear them and knew that help would not be sent for Brandy.

Shannon remembered the focus exercises on the island and decided that there was only one way to help Brandy. Shannon began to concentrate hard using every atom in her being to generate enough force to bring Brandy to her using SMV. This was only her second time trying but she felt in her heart that with the sisterly love she has for Brandy, she could achieve it. After about forty minutes, Shannon’s aura begins to glow as before. Her heart rate rises to alarming levels as she sweats profusely. Her monitors trigger a Code Blue that sends staff running to her room. When they arrive, they all freeze at the sight of Shannon who is glowing so brightly that she looks like what some would describe as an alien life-form. Within moments, Brandy materializes in the room. Some of the nurses and doctors run off frightened and screaming.

When Brandy is of her full presence, she looks at Shannon and has full awareness of who Shannon is for the first time in a long time. Shannon is now completely weak as the glow quickly dulls out. Brandy immediately goes to her side and, as she does, Shannon looks at her with a mixture of joy and sadness. She raises her fists and uses them to wave good-bye like they had done since they were children. Brandy mimics her usual roar but in the most sorrowful of ways. Shannon then disintegrates into nothing more than dust on the bed. Brandy shouts out in pain of the instant loss while medical professionals continue to look on in astonishment at the story that no one will ever believe—not even them.