When Charlie woke up, he was in a strange white-colored room. There were no openings into the room that he could see. No doors, no windows, not even any vents. Where was he? Was he dead? Was this heaven? He remembered getting shot. Well, the cop got shot, but he was inside the body at the time. Did that mean that they both died at the same time? Or was Charlie already dead to begin with?
He looked down at himself for the first time since waking up. He was back in his own body, with his own clothes. The clothes he woke up with in the tunnel, anyway.
What was happening?
Suddenly, in the center of the room, a cloud of blue sparkling dust appeared from nowhere. It grew in size until a man walked out from it.
It was him. The strange well-dressed man that he had met back in the empty Los Angeles. It seemed so long ago, but really it had been less than a day.
"Who are you?" Charlie demanded. "What am I doing here?"
