Ice Dreams

The constant winds had subsided for a moment, something they had never done before, and he was sure that he heard something. Sometimes a catching sound on the air, a faint word maybe, here, there, perhaps he had imagined it; all this time alone. It was enough to send anyone a little crazy. He made his way up the bank, lifting his legs high, clear of the deep snow. As he reached the summit of the mound, the winds began to die down even more, the sounds becoming more defined, clearer, louder, they seemed to come from nowhere, and everywhere; more like an impression of a sound than a sound. At times they came from just behind him, causing him to wheel around frantically only to find nothing; at others, they were barely audible echoes in the distance. Then, almost in his ear, he heard it.
“…again!”
A voice! A woman’s voice, he was certain of it this time, and there was something else. He eyed the purple peaks of the distant mountains, the mountains he had never reached; lowered his head and screwed up his eyes in concentration, listening hard.
He became aware of an electronic hum. At first, he couldn’t be sure if it was just the strange high-pitched whine we all experience in our ears from time to time, but then, the frequency of the sounds increased and was followed by a short beep, and then,

nothing.

Opening his eyes, he began to turn his head, desperately trying to recapture a sound, as if he were an aerial, needing to be carefully positioned in order to receive a clear signal through the interference; the thick, falling snow curtain. When he heard nothing more, he took a step forward.
Suddenly, there was a fierce jolt inside his head, as if his brain had flung itself against the inner wall of his cranium. Immediately his fell to his knees, pushing at his temples with the palms of his hands, as if trying to keep his brain from bursting through his skull. His eyes became rooted upwards in their sockets, and he began to shake involuntarily, but now he was able to hear an unconditional stream of sound, and he allowed himself to drift away on the tide of his only available sense. He heard laughter, and then the voice spoke again:
“Yes! Yes! Please Mr Jaeger, lie back.”
Jaeger? He had not heard the name for so long now. Mr Jaeger tried to open his eyes to see the owner of the hand which carefully, but firmly pushed his shoulder down, but his eyes continued to twitch wildly and uncontrollably. The voice continued,
“…I want three mil trialimine. Quickly, please.”
“Here Doctor, three mils trialimine.” A different voice this time, a masculine one.
Then, adopting a different tone, the first spoke more closely to him;
“Mr Jaeger? I’m just going to give you a little injection, please don’t worry.”
Mr Jaeger didn’t feel any injection, but soon his body movements were controllable again and his eyes fell from their previously skyward position. Then, slowly, his other senses started to return, and he remembered the fire in his side, which had now subsided to a dull ache. He blinked hard as his sight was returned to him. It was severely painful to see, the brilliant light was only amplified by the surrounding whiteness. Then, dark shapes appeared in front of him, there were two, no three, three shapes. The shapes took on colour, and watched, bemused as they became faces, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light. Two men and a woman, all dressed only in white surrounded him smiling. The woman spoke:
“Congratulations, Mr Jaeger, welcome back. You’re alive!”
I must be dead, he thought.

READ CHAPTER THREE