S4E6: The Hawk

In select theaters, March 20 from "Strand Releasing."

“Deep in the American South, a back alley absent bar harbours a deadly secret.”

Countess Elizabeth Bathory and her glamorous coven of vampires keep their killer instincts sharp by praying on lonely singles through dating apps, seducing and slaughtering to preserve their youth. But when Elizabeth swipes right on the wrong profiles, a cunning undercover vampire hunter and a band of emotionally stunted bros, the hunt spirals into hilariously horrifying

chaos. Ristcutters a love story producer Adam Sherman writes and directs this hilarious horror comedy that stars mean a suvarry, Stephen Dorf. Tom Behringer, Rosa Salazar, Tyrese Gibson, Lockman Monroe, and more. Don't miss vampires of the Velvet Lounge.

In select theaters, March 20, tickets on sale now. Hey everyone, before we get into the next episode of Tower 4, we just wanted to give you an update that part one of season 4 will actually be 8 episodes long. Episode 7 is already out on our Patreon page, patreon.com/seventlam the number 7 lamb for the public we have episode 7 scheduled for a March 23 release and episode 8 for April

20th. Obviously things are subject to change, but we're hard at work on wrapping up Part 1 of season 4. So that's it for now, we hope you enjoy the next episode of Tower 4. Anybody?

We got a little more talking to do. I said everything. No, no, Mr. Decker.

You haven't said the most important thing.

You haven't. Stop. A meal. We know you were trying to help Amber reach Mike. We know you visited her a month or so ago.

Against strict orders not to engage. Orders that have been in place for three years now. I, I was injured. We know you've been topside several times without authorization. We also had reason to believe you've been working with someone else here.

We need to know who that person is. I made a mistake. You're not going to get anywhere with him. The guy doesn't want to talk. A meal you need to tell me now.

“Who is the other person in this facility that is trying to sabotage our findings?”

I, don't, no. Told you. Alright, continue negotiating with him until he talks.

And what if he never does?

Let's give him the opportunity. Maybe he just needs a little more time to think straight. A meal. Are you working with Caldway? I already said.

No. I want information. What if he's not lying? I heard your team was the best. Is getting the information I need outside your parameters?

No, I just think it's important to let you know. If we continue our negotiations with poor meal here. He may not be able to dock anymore. So I hope you realize that because my team takes things very seriously. Looks like you're striving for an excuse.

“If three men dead, one injured and one missing, you think I don't want to get the asshole responsible?”

Then don't stop until we get something useful. My pleasure. Sir, do you think this is wise? Once the fire is out, you'll work with the old team and the new one. I want everything secure and back to normal, topside, and no more than a month.

And what about them? The mercenaries, what about them? Are you sure? This is the way. Fontaine is there a problem.

They're not easy to work with. Then get things under control quickly so they can leave. Yes, sir. Seven land productions presents, Tower 4, Season 4, Episode 6, The Hawk.

Prior? Prior to the incident.

“Well, I mean, hung out with him a few times and some of the guys from work went out for”

drinks and made me a ride home several. I'm talking about yesterday, last night. You know, since I got my car, he hasn't given me a ride.

I haven't talked to him outside of work and he's never been in my home before.

But I don't want you to question him. We can't. He's still asleep. Sleep? Yes.

Out. Still? I didn't know how many hours it passed since I was attacked by Clark, but I was exhausted. The adrenaline had faded and the nonstop questions and amounts of waiting in between. We have some people looking into the contents of what we believe was a tranquilizer.

Hell, he's been out cold.

You can't kick him awake?

“No, we've tried a bunch of things and he's not coming to.”

Doctor even tried smelling salts. Sure he's still alive? Yes. He's hooked up. Vitals fine.

Doctor's not sure what to make of it, so in the meantime, we'll just have to wait. Questioning went on for a while. I had to tell them about my entire night with worried me. In fact, I thought I was going to go into full on panic mode when I saw Lacy walk by the room's open door during a break.

We locked eyes a moment. Shit. What if she says I attack her? What if she tells them I'm the crazy one?

“And you said you can't think of a single reason your friend, your coworker, would want”

to attack you? I didn't even hear what he said. I was so overcome with worry about Lacy now. I wondered if it was only a matter of time before I was behind bars. I think.

Luckily, nothing came of Lacy other than she corroborated her story, but the cops know when I left her home. I was a relief. Kind of shocking. I was exhausted by the time I grabbed some stuff in my place and got to the hotel.

The sun was up in hell. No one was at the front desk when I entered. Hey there. The short stocky man came out from around the corner. How can I help you?

I called 20 minutes ago about a room. Mr. Archer. Yeah. Great. One of the room for two nights, yeah.

I'm hoping that's all. Well, if that changes, just let us know as soon as you can. We'll do. I knew I needed sleep, but I still couldn't shake all my uneasy feelings. Would I even be able to sleep?

Couldn't turn my brain off and the questions kept piling up. I didn't tell the detective done bar about my visions, but maybe I should have. I only got two hours of restful sleep before I was started to wake my shadows moving to the dark woods chasing me. What the fuck was wrong with me?

With my mind racing as much as it was, I needed to go out and get some answers myself.

I first went into the lobby, but saw a man in a dress shirt and slacks pacing by the front

entrance. I wasn't sure if he was a cop or someone else but he looks suspicious. So instead, I got some chips from the vending machine and inconspicuously made my way back towards my room. Although in actuality, I made my way out the back stairway.

First things first. I was just going to get some stuff out of my room.

Iris. Why? Iris.

I looked him up on my phone after talking to Pete, but the website was pretty bare and lacking

any real information of what the company even provided. Mentions of past pharmaceutical development and government support, but now it was all about innovation. But what kind of innovation, education, stalking? It didn't say.

I thought about calling or emailing, except there was no contact info on their page. At least I couldn't find it. So instead, I tried Jerry again. I already left voicemails.

“What was the whole purpose of meeting with me and then ignoring my calls?”

Was the meeting alive? Was he part of all this?

Or this was, shit, I couldn't trust anyone, and I don't.

I sat in my car park on the street from my place. It was still roped off and there was a unit inside. I wasn't sure how many people exactly, but there was at least three. None of them were the detective that questioned me. Detective Dunbar.

I wondered how long the investigation would take. How long it would be until Clark woke up. Detective Dunbar told me he would be in touch, so many stay put in my hotel room for now. He said I had just had to wait, but I hated waiting.

“Yet, as I watched one cop make his way to his car grab something and walk back inside”

my place, I noticed Mr. Williams's car. It was still there in the driveway. I wasn't sure if he had to work today. I mentioned my landlord to the detective and he said he planned to talk to him, but I didn't see him coming in for questioning, and yet they got lazy.

No one was fucking answering. I didn't get a chance to talk to or see him this morning, but there's no way the cops wouldn't question him. It was his home after all. Let's try again.

I was wondering when you get a chance if you could call me, I'm sure you've heard what's going on, please when you can. I close my eyes. I hear this.

“I sat back for a good five minutes with my eyes closed.”

Just thinking about yesterday, last night, Clark, they see the bartender. These people around me who were lying, were there more I couldn't trust. Me, noris, death, Mr. Williams, Dr. Romero, my heart started beating faster. I could feel a panic attack coming on. Oh, I opened my eyes and sat up, relaxed, Mike.

Relax. But it didn't matter if I set it out loud because it didn't fix anything. Maybe Pete wasn't in on it per se, but he knew something I didn't. Everyone seemed to have their secrets around me. I looked around nervously as I being watched.

Ah, fuck, I helped my chest fighting the encroaching pain. I didn't want to have flashes, I didn't want to have visions. I tried to take calm, soothing breaths. I hadn't taken any of my medications, so I was bound to have fits. Our accident, my ass.

These fits were similar to what Jerry said. I wouldn't just see brand of things like the woods on fire or a woman falling over a cliff. No. Something was happening to me and the people around me were in on it.

I just wasn't sure if it was everyone or just a woman job by my car startling me. She looks strangely familiar. Oh. I followed her to the end of the street. She turned to corner at the four-way stop and I continued to pursue.

I chest pains and decided as I passed her, and a contact never came and neither did the

paranoia because it wasn't her. I breathe the sigh of relief as I continued down the road, watching the jogging woman of my rear view American time here.

Screw it.

“I was just walking around and I was just walking around and I was just walking around.”

What are you doing here?

You know where my wallet is?

Someone's here? She looked back. I don't know. One second. She stepped outside causing me to step back a bit.

What are you doing here, Mike? Who's inside? What? Who's inside? Who is that?

I get feel of panic rising up. It's my boyfriend? Where are your kids? What? You said you had kids.

I do have kids.

What the hell is this, Mike?

What's wrong with you? Shit. I was acting like an idiot, but I had to know. Why did you go out with me? What?

Why did you go out with me? Because I wanted to. What kind of question is that? Did anyone tell you too? Did anyone tell me too?

What's going on? Seriously. What the hell was I doing? This was insane. Who gives a shit?

Even if someone did tell it to, we weren't seeing each other now.

And when she really confess if it were true? Mike? Shit. I'm. Sorry.

Never mind. I'm sorry about it, you. Wait. I turned around as Becky came jogging up. Mike.

Are you okay? Yeah.

“Then why are you asking me these ridiculous questions?”

Because something's going on and I want to know what? Do you want to talk about it? No. Not really. Mainly because I didn't know if I could trust her.

You sure? Yeah. I'm sorry I even came here. She frowned. Arise often.

Well, if it helps, no one told me to go out with you. I went out with you because I wanted to. And I liked the time we shared. And if you have any suspicions about what I say, I'm not entirely sure why. Because remember, Mike, you broke it off with me.

She was right, and I still felt paranoid. I did break it off with her, but it didn't mean she wasn't supposed to keep me busy like lazy. That could still be a thing. So I still didn't necessarily trust her, but I did feel a little bad about approaching

her. Now, in the way that I did, I was heading back to the hotel. I was exhausted, and I felt like at any point I could experience a panic attack or random flashes. But as I made my way the back way, I saw a black-sid-an pull behind me.

It followed me through two intersections. As I pulled into the hotel, I noticed a moment later, so that they would come on. I parked the car and quickly pulled my keys.

“I held them in such a way that a single key stuck out between each finger of my close”

fist, like Wolverine, but I'd defy my way out of this so be it. But when I looked in the rear view mirror, I didn't see the car. Shit. I quickly climbed out and made my way for the front doors, looking all around the parking left, until there it was, parked in the corner.

Where was Mr. Archer? I spun to my left, it was Detective Dunbar. I quickly released my fist and keys. Uh, yeah, I had hell, but I even trust him. How's it going?

It's going all right? Why? We, uh, told you it would be best if you stayed in the hotel for the time being. Yeah? Well, it looks like that was too much to ask of you.

I had to get out for a bit. Sure, but it looks like you've had quite the day so far. You've been following me? Why don't we go into the lobby and talk? I looked around the parking lots are bang, and I looked at the street.

Can we? Sure.

“Listen, I just wanted to get a cup of coffee.”

What did you know?

Because I'm pretty sure you've been driving around town talking to people.

So what if I have am I under arrest? No. Why would you be? I shrug. Well, why would you say that?

This time I shook my head. I really didn't want to be here talking right now. Not until they had something worth talking about. As we continue our investigation, we just want to make sure we can get a hold of you easily. I have my phone on me.

Okay? Well, we also want to make sure you don't interfere. But the case of a coworker trying to kill me? You said so yourself earlier this morning that you felt you were being watched. Staying in your hotel can provide you with a little more safety.

Security. Did it? It did. Yes?

Because we had one of our officers watching the front.

Sadly, you went out of back entrance. I looked around, but the lobby was empty. It wasn't even a clerk behind the front desk. But I did notice two cameras on the ceiling. He's not here now. We pulled him off when we were informed you went and talked to your boss.

Is that how they knew I'd left? After that, you went to your place, then you went to visit a Rebecca Lansing. So, so it looks to me like you're trying to do a little investigation of your own. I can't talk to people. I'd appreciate it if you let the professionals handle things.

Okay, well, have the professionals found anything? Your friend Clark woke up. And he'd say anything? He seems to be in a bit of a days.

“Doesn't quite remember everything that happened last night.”

It's almost like he's hung over. You believe him? I don't know. It's possible he hit his head hard enough.

You guys had quite the rumble.

Where it could be all from the tranquilizer. Is that what it was? We believe so, but the contents are still being examined. Okay, so what now? What?

I'll come here here. I got people in my place still rummaging around and you say Clark's away. Get your hair questioning me. I've already talked to him, but he's still dazed. We're filling him with caffeine and food at the moment to see if that helps.

Luckily for us, he hasn't asked for a lawyer, so don't worry. We'll try to get as much out of him as we can. My partner is with him and we'll continue to talk to him. But until we get the report on what was actually in those darts, we can't say for sure what's wrong with him.

That still doesn't answer my question. Sorry, which was? Why are you here? Because I want to know what you're doing going around talking to your boss and this mislansing. I wasn't about to let my guard down for better or for worse.

Even though a part of me felt it was for worse, I felt like Michael Shannon in the film bug was it only a matter of time before I started clawing at my skin trying to find him planted devices? Mr. Archer?

The stern way he tried to get my attention gave me that now common feeling of deja vu. Yeah, I'm just trying to help figure out why Clark was in your home, waiting for you with a dark gun. His apartment yielded no answers. And this wasn't a thing he did often.

Why are you asking me? I'm asking you why you're out talking to people, so I can try to piece this whole thing together. Because deep down, I don't think you're being completely honest with me. About what?

How should I know? Did you just talk to Pete? Your boss? Yes. What did he say?

He took a moment to look back at the front doors as they opened. A man entered, but made his way past us into the elevators at the far end. He said you were asking about Clark and about when you got hired. And he said he heard about what happened.

“And he said you couldn't remember a lot from before you moved here.”

Is that true? Yes. He said you were in an accident. A car accident earlier this year. That's correct.

Sorry to hear that. I shrugged, uncaring. He said anything else? Just that he was worried about you. Something seems suspicious here.

That's it? Yeah? He didn't say anything about Iris? Iris? Yeah.

No. What's Iris? I watched his eyes and hands. All his little movements to see if I could pick anything up. Is he lying about what he knew?

Mike, what's Iris? Probably something he should look into. From the executive producers of Stranger Things, it becomes a series that asked the question, "Are you sure?"

Something very bad is going to happen.

“Is an atmospheric psychological horror set in the five days leading up to an intimate wedding,”

starring Camilla Morone and Adam Demarvel. This isn't just a story about cold feet. It's about the visceral anxiety and mounting terror of realizing you might be marrying the wrong person. As Rachel questions, whether Nikki is truly the one, her doubts spiral into something darker. And the show explores the ultimate horror.

"How can you ever be certain?" "You've made the right choice." It's edgy, and it's not a spoiler if it's in the title. Something very bad is going to happen. The only question is, "What is it?"

Watch something very bad is going to happen. On March 26, only on Netflix. There you are. Have a seat. Dr Spencer was in his office, intently staring at his computer.

I didn't say anything. I knew in moments like these. It was best to wait for him to initiate. It seemed like he was done.

Now that he'd turned to face me.

Miles? He motioned of the chair across from an endless desk. You called for me? Mr. Sand was made, and Mr. Morrison hasn't been seen or heard from him some time. What are you talking about?

I don't think I could be much clearer. I'm sorry, I meant more. How? How was he made? Yes.

Mike met with Jerry Campbell. When? About a week ago. I'm not positive of the date yet. I thought Mike was being watched.

He was. Was? He was being watched, but at the time he met with Jerry, he wasn't. Why? Apparently someone called off the watchers, telling them that if they were seen it would trigger a reaction.

A remembrance. So they stayed off him for the day and night. Dr. Romero. He made air quotes. Was told to back off too.

Arthur and Campbell had a meeting in Mountain Point. No way that is. No? Just outside Ketchiken. Small, coastal town.

Oh. Any idea what they talked about? No. Was a clerk? Or sorry.

Shanned. Put back on the next day.

“Did Mike recognize him because of something maybe Campbell said?”

When I found out about the situation, I gave the order for Mr. Shanned to apprehend Mr. Archer. And? And Clark was made and shot with the substance himself. How? Oh, who cares how?

It happened. Local law enforcement is involved now. And Iris's name could come up. You know how bad that looks for us for me? I do.

We need to get Mike out. And do what with him? Study him apparently. I wondered if that was a snarky dig at me. Since I was the one who convinced Dr. Spencer to keep him alive.

I've talked to Ketchiken. That was the fake Dr. Romero. Archer is still aware and unable to let go of his memories. No prescription has worked. More so than Jerry?

Well, I'm not so sure now. Campbell's lost everything, right? That was our findings. Yes. Then why was he meeting with Mike?

All I could do was shoot.

“Miles, we're still not operating at a hundred percent.”

But we are getting things done. Last contact with Morrison said he was bringing in Campbell. He got him? Yes. Campbell was hanging out in Mountain Point.

Biting his time, I assume. For what? I'm not quite sure. But Morrison was put on watch duty for Campbell and send a message saying that he was bringing him in.

But you said you haven't heard from him in a while. No contact. You think trouble? I always think trouble. But there is a possibility he's just lost service.

Even with a set phone. You think? I hope. And you should too. What do you mean?

This whole thing without you was hasty and unnecessary. And now we are so far behind. All three tower four subjects have been more troubled than they're worth. And now two have given us major issues.

And the third is still above running loose.

He meant Sam Taverson. He found out about Sam when he talked to a meal. They used the term "talked," even though I knew that a meal was probably beaten within an inch of his life. Or worse.

And all this because not every one of our team is a team player. I understand. Have you found anything? We did. Yes, we did.

No. But I've questioned many. And I've been checking records and video in. Miles, it's been months. We got what we could from the old company workers.

But we're still missing a key piece. Find something.

He forced a smile then motion to the door. I stood up, nodded, and left.

“Things would be even more tense than they already were.”

As I walked down the brightly lit hallway.

The first thing I knew I had to do was get in contact with Jerry.

Huh? Send him his phone, Tane. Yes sir. Sir. Updates.

With red team. They're still exploring viable regions untouched by the fire. Other side of the highway. Yes. Drones.

They're scanning. Why is this taking so long? They're smart sir. Scanning has its limitations. Have you seen the latest reports out of Moran?

Yes sir. We operate out of Moran. How are they able to move right under our noses? Again sir. They're smart.

There are four left, yes.

As stated in my last report. Then why are there reports of five? Is that from Moran?

“That's from the video feed by the church.”

Which luckily we were able to get our hands on. Thanks to the local authorities. Now that we know about 216 or Taverson. There shouldn't be more than four. Exactly.

But you think. Yes. I do. She's helping them. But why wouldn't she have just left?

I don't know. But we cannot let any of the ranges. Especially Morlo find that out. May I be blunt with you sir? Speak freely. It's only us.

The team that was sent here. I know you disapprove. They're reckless. And they don't listen. But they help us. If you have any problems with them, send them to me.

I'm just trying to get this under control. This needed to be under control two months ago. There is no more fire. I know. You do what you need to do.

You want me to talk to the Merx? I will. You need more of our own people for security. Fine, I'll reassign. Me may talk to local law enforcement.

I'll do it. These are not excuses. Understood. Yes. Then let's not waste any more time.

I already have my hands full. Yes sir. That's all. Yes sir. Actually.

Sir. I do have one other order for you. What would that be? Keep an eye on Miles Eastern. Sir, I thought he was running his own internal investigation.

I met with him a month and a half ago. This is true, but I'd like surveillance on everyone.

“And anything you have to report from now on, you report only to me.”

Yes sir. But may I ask? Why? Felix. What is it Eddie?

You finally get something out of shand?

Fed's took him. What the hell are you talking about? Better religion showed up and took him. You're not making any sense. Took him where?

Back to Anchorage I think. The field office? That's my guess. Right? Wouldn't they do that?

Yeah. That's my guess. Right? Wouldn't they do that? Yeah.

How do you not know? Because the chief didn't tell me. So the chief knows? Sure he knows. He's the one who got everything for him.

What everything? Files, evidence? Everything law. Hold on, hold on. I don't understand.

Listen, man, I get it. But I'm telling you what just happened. I was about to call you because I knew you were with Archer. They just left? Yes.

Ten minutes later. They just left? Ten minutes ago. Feds came in, grabbed sand, took the files, and scrammed. Chief says we're off it.

He pulled forensics from the site.

I told you everything. They took everything. We're off the case. It's gone.

That doesn't make any sense.

How can they just take him?

“Was he part of something bigger across state lines?”

Maybe he was on the land. It's happened before up here. What will they do with phone records? I'm sure that Chief will have everything that's digitally logged forward into Anchorage. That's messed up.

You can talk to the Chief, but he's on a call right now. Okay. I'll wait then. Sorry. I was just as shocked as you are.

Eddie, wait. Did you get anything out of Shand? Nah.

And I could even complete a background check.

He didn't say anything. Nothing of importance. You say anything about Iris? Iris? Yeah.

What's Iris? A name. Do you say anything? No.

“What about this guy's boss at the docks?”

Pete Polar? Do you remember? I remember him. But did he say anything about Iris? No.

And the feds? No. They didn't say shit. They barely spoke to the Chief. Iris.

I don't know what that is, aside from eyes. Right. Okay. Never mind. Wait.

Why? [Music] After Detective Gunbar left, I went for a walk near the channel. But it wasn't as relaxing as I had hoped.

“It was constantly looking over my shoulder.”

Every single person I saw, I was suspicious of. So instead, I went to the gas station, grabbed a six pack, and came back to my room. The cashier at the gas station even seemed to be a little fishy. Asking how I was in his awkward way.

I went to the window and pulled back the curtain. Was the whole town in on it? Whatever it was. Gunbar said he didn't know what Iris was, but that could have been a lie. Everything here could be a lie.

I surveyed the parking lot below me, wondering if more cops were watching me or maybe more coworkers or past dates. But why? Why was this happening? Why me?

Why? That's stupid question that often played me.

But not only here, not only now, always.

Every relationship, every death, every decision in my life, and even in my character's lives and my writing. It wasn't a dumb question, but it was dumb to be so obsessed with it. Sometimes things just happen, Mike. I stared at the window watching a cruise ship slowly approaching down the channel.

I wondered when I would return to work. Detective Dunbar said I'd most likely be able to return home two days from now. He also said he'd look into the company known as Iris. I didn't tell him everything about the company, but that was because I didn't know much. But maybe he could find out more and relay whatever information that may or may not show their involvement.

And Clark's. I wonder why they were interested in me. I just wanted to know what was happening, and I just... Geez! I startled slightly as a bird flew right by the window, inches from the glass. It ziggged and zagged and flooded its way to a telephone wire, hanging over the parking lot.

But it only remained there a moment as a large shadow passed over. Causing it to bounce off the wire and zoom closer to the ground. What the. I spun around. Sound felt like it came from behind me, but of course the room was empty. What the hell? I looked around the room. Is there a damn bird in here?

No. I was having one of my fits. One of my panic attacks. Was there going to be flashes? I closed my eyes waiting for it to come. My heart was beating rapidly, but no visions came. Not until I opened my eyes. I was standing in front of my childhood home.

Mom standing beside me. She looked down at me, her eyes, showing that hint of sadness that became all too familiar after dad left. I looked down at my small hands holding a box with holes punctured in the top. It was going to let the bird go. I needed to let it go. It needed to be free.

It took flight and disappeared behind the large trees across the street.

But I also remember the smile mom gave me after it was gone.

“I could just salt all up problems. Only hit were true.”

I was back in the hotel room standing at the window. Again, the bird flooded frantically, zooming by the window one way, disappearing for a few seconds and then flying back the other. I wondered why. I felt the phone vibrate in my pocket.

Was it the detective? Better yet was it Jerry? No. Only shit. It was a text. It read, "Hey, is this still Mike? This is Sarah." Sarah. I quickly replied to her.

It had been years since we talked. I told her it was me. I waited for her to reply. A little typing awareness indicator popped up, disappearing a moment then popped up again.

Her next text said, "May I call?" I guess I could have just called her myself,

but I responded with a quick yes instead.

Ten seconds later. Hello? Hi, Mike. Hi, Sarah.

“I know this seems odd, but I had the urge to reach out.”

Oh yeah? How come? Felt something? You could say that? This was so Sarah, feelings and signs. Did the stars align?

I had a dream. A dream, huh? Yeah, last night. A good dream? Yes, but probably not in the way you're implying.

No, no, I wasn't implying anything. Oh, okay. Well, yes. I had a dream. I was visiting you. You were living in an apartment near downtown.

I came to visit you and catch up. That's it? Well, no. You were upset. About Mom? That was the last time I talked to Sarah. She called to ask how I was doing after Mom's diagnosis.

I'm not sure what.

You wouldn't talk to me at first.

I'm sorry I haven't checked in. Time got away from me. She doing okay? No, she passed. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

Yeah. Well, it was a while ago now. Oh, how are you? In regards to her passing. In regards to everything.

Why? What? Why? This curious why you're calling now. I told you, my dream.

That's it? You were upset. And? And I was worried about you. You said it was a good dream.

“It was good in the sense that I didn't wake up in a cold sweat.”

So it wasn't actually good. I told you, you're upset. But you don't know what about? No. Sarah, there's something you're not telling me.

Did you look up your horoscope for the day? Or mine? You know me so well. And yet, you weren't meant to be. Both can be true.

They were. You didn't know I wish they weren't. Like, I really want to know. Are you okay? Is everything going well?

Do you feel fine? I won't lie, yeah. I have a lot going on right now, and I'm not exactly sure how I feel. I've been very confused lately. You'll probably laugh, but I'm not surprised.

You're right. Is that what the dream told you? Go ahead, laugh all you want, but I know you're going through something. Because of your dream? Yeah.

I just want to check up on you. You don't want to talk, we don't have to. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude. No, no. You're a realist.

I remember. Listen, I don't want to take up any more of your time. It wasn't even sure if I wanted to make contact today. My film's been hovering over sand ever since I woke up this morning. I'm sorry, okay.

I have a lot going on right now, and I'm just not handling things well. Your mom? Other stuff. Oh. I walked back over to the window, but saw no birds this time.

Just traffic below, people by the docks, and another cruise ship arriving. I know we haven't stayed in touch, and I'm sorry if this is bringing up any kind of past feelings. Here we go. Damn, the stream must have been something. Care to share?

No, I'm not the only one going through something apparently.

There's definitely more. I don't want to put it out there. Outwear. Into the ether. Do I have seven days to live?

I'm not a haunted video tape. Well, you are scaring me. A little part of me started to wonder if she was in on it, too. If you'd like to talk, maybe we could get coffee sometime. Coffee?

Really? Sarah, I don't live in California anymore. No? No. Oh.

That explains another part of my dream. Really? There was distance. Sure is now. I'm in Alaska.

Alaska. Oh, that's nice. At times it was, but not so much anymore. For vacation? No.

I needed to change a scenery.

Oh, you're living there? Yeah. About 30 seconds passed with neither of us saying anything. Okay. Well, seems like you don't want to talk.

Me?

“You called about some random dream, but you won't go into more details?”

I told you about it. But not at significance? Yes, I did. Not why I made you call? I told you.

I was worried about you. I had the urge to reach out. But you don't seem to want to talk, and that's fine. Sorry to bother you. You're really worried about me, huh?

You can say that. I started to get very suspicious. Neither of us said anything for another good 30 seconds. I'm going to go then. Wait.

Yeah? Can I ask you a question? Sure.

I'm being really vulnerable here, but I'm just curious.

You're not reaching out in the hopes of anything. You know? What? Anything... You had a dream about me.

You mentioned coffee. You're reaching out. You weren't hoping for something to happen between us, right? Several excruciating seconds passed. Oh, no.

I wasn't. Oh. Sorry, Mike. I gave that impression. I went back over to the bed.

Mike? No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I mean, I just wanted to make sure.

We had to make things awkward, Mike. I was worried this might happen. I don't get all inflated ego on me now. It's not that. No?

No. You were the one who called me over a dream then mentioned getting coffee. And you said you knew me well.

“Then you should know this call was clearly about.”

Okay, okay. No need to explain. You're right. I spoke out of turn. I can take a hint.

Mike, I'm not trying to be mean. I didn't say you were, but I hate when you do this shit. Do what? You know. No.

What? Come on, Sarah. I wanted to check in. Okay, fine. No, seriously.

I don't want to talk about this. You said I know, though. I feel you should. Are you going to say give you hope? There's that ego.

I'm trying to be friendly, Mike. That's all. I don't need you checking in, Sarah. I'm fine. Fine. You said you were going through some stuff.

So maybe I was right to call. I can handle it on my own. The way I've been doing it ever since we broke up. Mike, I don't need you and your connections to the dream world bailing me out.

Okay. I don't give a shit about your signs. I'm fine. I've been fine and I'll continue to be fine. Appreciate your concern, though.

Mike. Thanks for reaching out. With that, I hung up. She was so frustrating.

“Maybe I was a little harsh with her, but what the hell was that?”

I went back to the window and once again saw a little birds if I seen little bird as before. I wasn't sure. But it looked like it could be. It dove down and once again, zoom towards the ground.

This time flying into the hedges at the far end of the parking lot. A moment later, I saw the other bird it was trying to escape from a hawk. The thing came swooping down then up to a light post where it perched itself and peered down at the hedges in parking lot.

Head cocked. Hmm. Becky was right. Birdwatch, it could be fun. Was it grabbed another beer?

My phone started ringing. Was it Sarah again? Did she have a day dream about me this time? No. I didn't know this number.

I answered cautiously hoping for Jerry, but... Hello? Mr. Archer? Yes. This is Detective Dunbar.

Oh. You caught me. I went out for a walk and grabbed a six-pack, but I promised there was no more questioning or spying being done. I appreciate your candor, but that's not why I'm calling.

No.

Mr. Shand was taken to the FBI field office in the Anchorage.

What? What for? Yeah. That's something I'm curious about as well. You don't know?

Right now, I believe this to be in a cross-state lines issue. And sometimes, agents don't work well with the fuzz, so we're forced to sit back and wait. So you don't know anything? Clark didn't say anything before they took him, and the agents didn't say anything to you? No.

They've gathered everything we had, and we assume we'll hear from them shortly once things slow down.

“At least that's what the higher-ups are saying.”

Okay, it was something big at play, I could feel it. I just wanted to call on that you know that our forensic and field team have been pulled off, and your home has been deemed safe to return to.

Now, I know we told you a couple days at least, and you got the hotel stay for two nights,

but if you'd like to return home, you can. Just like that? Just like that. What should have been good news didn't feel so good. I could feel my paranoia taking over.

I went over to the window trying to figure out what else I should say or ask, but came up with nothing. Listen, Mr. Archer, you seem to be in the same amount of shock as myself. We're not sure about what is occurred here, and until someone from Anchorage calls my chief, we won't know. We weren't given much to go off of. I will, however, keep you informed as information comes our way, because like you, I'm also genuinely curious.

That is, if everything you told me was accurate. It was. I just didn't tell him everything. Okay, well, like I said, as of right now, you may return home.

“If you do have any other issues or see anything suspicious, feel free to reach out.”

And I will let you know when, and sadly, if the field office gets in touch.

But I'm an optimistic person and expect something to come down the pipeline shortly. At least some kind of answer to what transpired here today. Okay. Take care, Mr. Archer. Thank you.

I lowered the phone from my ear as I stared outside. Fucking G-Man? Again, the feeling of deja vu. Along with that feeling of deja vu was dread. But why?

And that's when I saw the hawk again on a different light post. And this time it was eating something, the tiny bird. The tiny bird it was chasing. It got it. And now it was pulling it apart. Feathers, blood, bits of flesh, not only hung from its mouth, but plastered the top of the light as well.

That's when I got the urge. Like her. I want to ask you something else. Really? I didn't expect to talk to you for another several years. Until you had another dream?

Wow. I'm sorry, okay. And I'm sorry about before I lost my cool. I'm going through some stuff. You were right about that. But I really don't want to talk about it. Yet you have questions for me.

Can I ask? Go ahead. Okay. Carl Young. What about him? Actually, not even him.

More so meaningful coincidences. Yeah. I remembered you once and to dream I had to an email I got from my next hero. Remember that? Hmm, not really.

I had a dream about Melinda. The next day she emailed me. You said that could be a meaningful coincidence. Okay, sure, but that's a really simple example. Like yours today? Um, yeah.

“Okay, but I guess what I'm asking is, was there a purpose to it?”

To the coincidence or me mentioning it? To the coincidence. That's not really a youngy instance. There could be a purpose, but it could be in a meaning that doesn't register with us. Meaning we wouldn't see it?

Meaning we may not understand it. But is there ever a time when the coincidence could be a random act? Well, that is kind of what coincidence means, Mike. Young just thought that some could be more significant. Holding a more philosophical or metaphysical meaning outside of our comprehension.

Or even that we wouldn't see the true meaning until much later in life. But that day you ascribe meaning to my dream. I don't quite remember, but again, a simplistic example that was kind of just handed to me. Right. Mike, what's going on?

Really, you do not seem okay. No, I'm not. After Mom died, I moved out of the house. I was in a car accident. I was looking for something new and that's why.

Yeah.

To get away and focus on my writing.

Oh, at least I thought. What does that mean? But I ignored her question. You found my dream that day to be meaningful. You said that the dream you had last night gave you the urge to call me.

Okay. But that's just dreams. What about other stuff? Like. What about deja vu and flashes of life?

I'm not sure I experienced, but someone told me I did. Um, what? I'm having panic attacks, Sarah. And nightmares and flashes of things I don't remember. I feel like I have some form of PTSD.

From the accident? No, no, not that. I thought that at first.

“That's why I was talking to a psychiatrist.”

But I'm seeing things I don't remember ever seen or happening.

I don't remember these things ever happening. How bad was the accident, Mike? Maybe you have amnesia from a concussion. That's what the doctor said. That's what they told you.

No. What? That's what I was told they said. I don't remember any doctors. Mike, you're scaring me.

I don't remember moving to Alaska either. It sounds like you need to see someone Mike. I have been seeing someone. And I'm not sure how I started doing that either. It's not serious.

I'll tell you what's really serious. In lied to and followed. Followed? Followed? Someone broken into my house last night and tried to knock me out

with some sort of tranquilizer. What? Luckily I got the drop on. Are you telling me the truth, Mike? I hope you're not playing games with me right now.

Oh, I'm telling the truth. Did you call the police? I did. In fact, I just got off the phone with the detective. I'm so confused right now.

Not surprised. Everything you're saying right now is pretty hard to comprehend. Can I be honest with you? Why are you calling me about Carl Young and meaningful coincidences? Are you just trying to relate?

I want to know what the meaning is to my dreams and flashes and deja vu when panic attacks. I couldn't tell you, Mike. I mean, what are you seeing? You say it's stuff that hasn't happened or stuff you don't remember happening?

That's right.

“I think you should really talk to a doctor instead.”

I'm talking to you. I'm not an expert when it comes to head injuries. Sarah? Fine. Fine.

Do these flashes and dreams and feelings of deja vu? A feeling important? Yes. Okay. What does that mean?

Hold on. Hold on. Just tell me. I'm trying to think right now, Mike. You're throwing a lot at me.

I called expecting you to be upset, but not like this. I wasn't sure what you meant by that, but I'm sure it was related to our dream or something. Relating meanings isn't hard. Most people can come up with whatever they want to come up with. Something you often did when you were being sarcastic with me.

Showering me with condescension. But doing it sincerely and doing it with a young and prespective is different. How so? Well, for having nightmares about things that really happened and it's obvious. They're not just coincidences.

Right. Which could be the case for some of the images of the woods on fire. Herrest Jerry said that happened to the forest. But if your nightmares or flashes or PTSD can't be based in reality. I thought about me floating above the city in my childhood bed.

Hands grabbing me from behind. Then I would say that would have a more young can significance. If you could determine a meaning to any coincidences in your everyday life.

“Like being followed, like not remembering how I got here?”

Uh, maybe.

Listen, I know you didn't always believe the studies or my personal beliefs or interpretations.

But you weren't inquisitive person. You often wanted to know why. Sure, and that's why I'm calling. But what are you trying to find meaning in? Because if you want my thoughts on the matter, I would say these aren't true meaningful coincidences.

Because they seem to be causally related. What do you mean? Getting in a car accident obviously messed with your memory. The weird flashes could be a form of amnesia or something from a concussion that was caused by the accident. Okay.

So these wouldn't be considered meaningful coincidences. Oh. Did I ever tell you about the French writer named Emil Dishon and his dessert? No. It's a story popularized by a young.

The story goes that this writer Dishon would encounter an Englishman named Monsidifonsibu. Every time he was sitting down to eat, specifically plum pudding.

Then it happened a decade later in Paris. Dishon saw it on the menu and remembering enjoying plum pudding ten years prior, he decided to order it again. But the last dish went to Fonsibu, who just so happened to be eating in the same restaurant. Then about another decade passed.

And at a dinner with friends, Dishon saw plum pudding on the menu. And mentioned in a joking manner, how he expected to see his good friend Fonsibu. And lo and behold, the Englishman came in arriving at the wrong address. Dishon apparently claimed, and I'm paraphrasing, I've had plum pudding three times in my life.

And each time I've seen Monsidifonsibu, a fourth time I shall feel capable of anything, or capable of nothing. Young introduced the Paris psychological concept of synchronicity based on this concept. No causation, but related. That might be the greatest example you could have given.

Surprisingly, you never brought it up during our time together.

I mean, be honest, Mike. You only ever really cared about hearing this stuff when we first started dating, and when we were on the outs.

“What have been nice if there were times in between?”

She was right. And I was set with instant regret. I'm sorry about that. I should have been a little more open-minded. I walked back over to the window where the hawk was still pulling apart,

needing its catch. What Sarah said made a lot of sense. These things I was seeing in experiencing weren't meaningful coincidences, at least not in the flashes and random panic attacks. They were things that happened and Jerry knew it.

He tried to warn me, and I was attacked. All these things were related. And I believed there was a cause. I think that's all I can offer. It's enough.

Thank you. I do want to say that.

It's nice hearing from you again.

Sorry you're going through so much. It's okay. I hope you've been well. I have.

“Before I let you go, can I ask one more thing?”

Go ahead. Well, you acted weird about me bringing up an old dream that you related to an axe, but you originally called because of a similar scenario. You dreamed about me and had a feeling things weren't going well. Yeah.

I wanted to check in. Because you had the urge. Right. A feeling? Yeah.

But I know why I had the dream. I know where it stemmed from. Where? I was going to mention this earlier, but then checking out after everything is said. Sarah, what is it?

I'm getting married like. I looked down to the carpet floor and sure what to say. Oh. Should I not have mentioned that? No.

No. I'm happy for you. Is it Carson? No. I told you.

There's nothing between us back then. Right. His name is Jensen. We met at a conference. He works for his older company. Ah.

How long have you two been together? Mike, do you really want to know? No, not now. Not if you're warning it like that. Because I knew what that meant.

Not at all.

“The wedding is coming up and I think that's why.”

I think that's why I had my dream. About me? Yeah. And that's really why you called? I called because of the dream and how you were in it.

Oh. I wasn't sure what that meant. Well, I'm happy for you. Really. Thank you.

Okay. Well, I'm going to go. Are you going to be okay?

I never expected you to be in such a situation.

I'll be okay. I'll figure things out. Okay. Well, it was nice talking to you again. If you need anything, reach out.

Please. I will. Take care, Sarah. I'm Mike. I stood there a good two minutes in front of the window,

but now staring at my own. After 10 seconds, the screen went dark. But I did. I turned my attention back to the outside world. But the hawk was gone.

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