My heart started to race. Losing time had never happened to me before except for the few times when I’d been drugged. I didn’t like it. I insisted on dental work being done without anesthesia. I had a private doctor that was the only person I trusted to perform surgery on me when necessary, and I had the ragged scars to prove that I considered myself entirely capable of suturing my own stab wounds and digging bullets out of my skin.
I took a deep breath, tried to will my breathing to relax and my heart to slow. I needed to properly analyze the situation in light of this new information.
I must have been moving around and behaving normally. If I’d been standing utterly motionless the entire time, someone would have taken note of me. If I’d interacted with security at all, I either would have left politely, in which case I’d be outside somewhere, or reacted with aggression, in which case I’d have been in police custody.
I reached into my pockets, ran my hand over my coat. The knives and the pistol I’d had on my person were gone. Again, given that I wasn’t in a jail cell somewhere or in a tense standoff with the police, I must have gotten rid of them myself. But why?
The buzzing in my head was a roar now, gone from formless white noise to a sound that rose and fell in pitch, in volume. I began to feel a pattern to it, although what such a pattern could have been, I had no idea.
One thing became immediately clear to me, though. I had to get outside. I had to be under the open sky as soon as possible.