The Keras Genome

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The Keras Genome Page 2

by Kurtis Eckstein


  So hot! Why was it so hot?! The pain was too much. The room was turning black. All sounds in the room disappeared completely, including his own screaming.

  Then, there was nothing.

  Chapter 2: Escape

  Noah awoke with a start. He felt like he was coming out of a deep sleep.

  Where am I? What was I just doing? Suddenly, his thoughts of the past half hour began flooding back, triggered by the sight of the room and the bright harsh light.

  Blood was everywhere. The walls were splattered with it.

  Confused about where the man with scalpel had disappeared to, Noah realized the bloody mess on the floor in front of him was the man. Or at least had been. Pieces of metal from the chair protruded out of the pile. Uncontrollably, Noah jerked forward and began dry heaving. His entire body contracted as his already empty stomach attempted to push out its contents. The taste of bitter bile began choking him, burning his throat. The stench of death was overwhelming.

  While gagging, Noah realized his hands were free. The handcuffs were gone. He looked behind him to see even more blood everywhere were the other men had been standing. All four men who had been in the room with Noah were dismembered to the point of being unrecognizable .

  I have to get out of here! Noah weakly rose from the chair and stepped towards the door. It was slightly ajar.

  Slowly opening it, he saw another dead body in the hallway. Bright red blood was running down the white walls like paint splattered on a canvas. Glancing both ways, he noticed even more corpses in the opposite direction, from the way they had come in.

  Turning towards his exit, he began running, fear giving him a sudden rush of energy. He pushed through the first door into the small dark entryway, and then opened the second. Forgetting about the steps, he stumbled down onto the pavement below.

  The shock of catching himself from hitting the pavement face-first sent a radiating pain through his wrists and up his arms. On his hands and knees, Noah took in desperate gasps of fresh air, allowing it to wake him from this nightmare. Gradually, he regained control over his breathing and his mind started to clear. His escalated thoughts became more focused.

  Not wanting to stay in the dark alleyway, he picked himself up and began walking towards the sound of traffic. He quickly reached a short, brightly-lit, road that led to the busy downtown street. He knew that after another minute of walking he would finally be safe, far away from the seclusion of the dark alleyway.

  Noah’s relief to be away from all the blood was immediately replaced with disgust as he realized he must be covered in it. He looked down at his clothes expecting to see red everywhere. But to his surprise, his shirt and pants were clean, being only slightly wet from sweat. Startled, he looked at the small hole in his jeans. There was no blood around the tear where he had been stabbed with the scalpel. His leg didn’t hurt either, but there was definitely a hole. He pulled the side of his shirt to try to see the back, but still no blood.

  What is going on? Am I hallucinating? Had the hole in my pants always been there? Checking his shoes, Noah could see blood in the cracks, but the majority had been wiped off from his short walk. He quickly glanced behind him at the ground to make sure he wasn’t leaving tracks.

  Nothing. Confident there were no visible signs of where he had just been, he proceeded down the vacant street towards the heavy traffic. Still unsure of his location, he considered how he would find his way home. He decided his only option was to walk around and hope he saw something familiar. He wanted to avoid telling anyone he had amnesia.

  At the busy street, Noah turned onto the sidewalk to see that a man and women were walking towards him on the same side. The guy had his armed wrapped around the girl’s shoulders as they walked in his direction. They hadn’t noticed him yet.

  Act normal. Keep walking. Just act normal.

  As they approached him, he wondered if they would detect anything misplaced. Did he have blood on his face? He hadn’t thought to check. Noah’s eyes briefly met the guy’s glance as they passed. And then the guy looked onward as if seeing nothing significant. A sign of relief escaped his chest as he continued walking .

  Speaking to himself, he whispered. “Okay, now I just need to figure out where I am.”

  After a few blocks, he was pleasantly surprised to recognize a familiar storefront. Instantly, he realized where he was in relation to his house. For some reason, there was a powerful connection between this area of town and where he lived. He felt like he had traveled between the locations frequently, permanently connecting the two in his mind. From what he remembered, his house was only about ten minutes away by car. Although, he knew walking would take a lot longer.

  How can I get home? He wondered. If I try to walk home, it will take all night. Maybe I can call someone? But who?

  Checking his pockets, he found them completely empty – no phone, no wallet, no keys. His jeans must have been empty in the warehouse prior to waking up. Considering his options, he decided his only real choice was to try to get a lift from a stranger.

  I never thought I would be a hitchhiker. But my chances of getting picked up on the interstate should be high.

  He had to walk for about fifteen minutes to reach the nearest ramp to one of the interstates that ran through downtown. Even though the speed limit was hypothetically lower through the city area, both cars and semitrucks barreled past him. The wind from their speed was almost enough to knock him off balance. He wanted to get further away to avoid being hit, but at this point he couldn’t due to a concrete barrier .

  He sighed, speaking to himself again. “At least this part of the interstate is lit up.” He was thankful for the orange light that allowed drivers to at least have a chance to see him.

  Noah considered whether he should delay signaling for a ride, because there didn’t appear to be enough room for a car to safely pull over on the shoulder. Just as he decided to wait, a slowing white vehicle pulled off the road in front of him and stopped. Immediately, flashing red and blue lights signaled for the oncoming traffic to move over.

  Great. Just what I need – to deal with a cop. Is he with the soldiers? Noah knew he was probably being paranoid. Certainly not everyone was out to get him. Even if he’s not with them, he probably won’t accept ‘I need a ride’ without a bunch of questions.

  After checking for a break in traffic, the police officer opened his door and stepped out onto the road. He was a large guy, with dark skin and a shaved head – very intimidating. He quickly made his way to the back of the vehicle and then approached Noah. His hands were on his hips, and his gait was slow and intentional.

  “What are you doing out here son?” The officer seemed to be considering how he wanted to handle the situation.

  Noah intuitively realized the cop was searching for a cue from him to determine what kind of person he was, which would then determine the officer’s next move. Noah wanted to give a good first impression, but he was uncertain how to answer the simple question. He frantically considered logical excuses for why he might be walking home on the interstate.

  Car stolen? No, he might want to do paperwork.

  The officer stopped just in front of Noah, towering over him. “Well?” Then, after a brief pause, he pulled out his flashlight and shined it in Noah’s face. “Are you on drugs?”

  “No sir. I just…” The bright beam from the tiny flashlight hurt his eyes, forcing him to squint and look away.

  “Just what?”

  After a second, Noah responded with the best excuse he could think of on the spot.

  “My friend drove me to a party. I wanted to leave, and he didn’t, so I decided to hitchhike home.”

  “A party huh?” The officer seemed interested. “Was there drinking at this party?”

  He knew the officer would probably think he was lying if he said no, so he just decided to go with it.

  “Yes, but it was okay. It was a college party, and everyone was over twenty-one except me and my friend…he wasn’t drinki
ng or anything. He just wanted to hang out.”

  “How old are you son?”

  Dammit. This shouldn’t be that hard. Noah didn’t know how old he was. How old did he look? Why had he told the officer he was under twenty-one? Was he under twenty-one? Had he instinctively known he was younger? Noah felt like he might be a high school student, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because when he remembered where his house was, he knew he still lived at home with parents .

  “Seventeen,” was finally his answer. It was his best guess at this point, and he suspected the officer might go easier on a minor.

  “Do you know the address?” The officer asked.

  Trying to steer the conversation, Noah responded. “Of my house? No, but I can show you how to get there.”

  “No, the address of the party.”

  Dammit! Why did it have to be a cop? “Sir, I honestly couldn’t even tell you how to get there, let alone the address. I’m not familiar with this area of town. I just really need a ride home.”

  It was obvious that the officer was considering whether to believe him. After a few seconds, he sighed and muttered under his breath. “I’m off the clock anyway, I don’t have time to deal with this.” Then to Noah he said, “All right, I’ll take you home. I’m done for the day, so you’ll be my last stop before I head home myself. Come on.” The officer gestured for Noah to follow him.

  Noah trailed after him to the driver’s side of the vehicle, and the cop opened the backdoor for Noah to get in. The passenger’s side was too close to the concrete barrier to allow entry, although the officer probably would have put him in the backseat anyway.

  “Watch your head getting in.” The officer stated out of habit. He then closed the door, and quickly got in the car himself, carefully watching out for oncoming vehicles.

  Inside the car, the metal grate reminded Noah of the other cruiser he had been in not long ago. Except, the difference this time was that he wasn’t handcuffed, and he didn’t have guns pointed at his head.

  “Buckle up,” the officer demanded as he took off onto the interstate. After a few seconds, he finally asked, “Now, which way is your house?”

  Chapter 3: Girlfriend

  On the way home, the police officer tried to make small talk. Noah didn’t want to seem rude, but he also didn’t want to reveal how little he knew about himself. He was thankful to get a ride home, but chatting wasn’t a great idea right now.

  In response to the officer’s probing, he finally responded. “I really appreciate the ride, but it’s been a rough day for me, and I really don’t feel like talking.” Amazingly, it worked, and the officer stopped asking questions. Noah was thankful the drive would only be ten minutes to his house.

  Halfway there, he was shocked to see that the clock in the cruiser only said 9:52 PM. It felt like it was after midnight. Had it really only been about forty-five minutes since guns had been pointed at his head? He wondered how much time had passed between the warehouse and escaping that interrogation room. Noah had spent at least twenty minutes walking around downtown, which meant the actual interrogation may have only been fifteen or twenty minutes at the most. It had felt like hours.

  He wanted to ask about the month and date, but he didn’t want to give the cop any reason to get suspicious. If the officer told him it was the fifteenth, it would seem really weird if he asked which month. The guy might think he really was on drugs after all. So, for the time being, he kept his mouth shut.

  Briefly, Noah wondered if he had used drugs. Maybe everything had been a hallucination. It was extremely strange that he had no blood on him, except for the cracks of his shoes. Maybe he was delusional. Yet, it all had felt so real – too real. Granted, with no recollection of having used drugs before, he didn’t have anything to compare it to.

  “Turn on this road coming up,” he instructed. Since they were almost there, Noah began focusing the next set of tasks. As they pulled onto his street in the subdivision, he questioned the officer.

  “You aren’t going to walk me to the door, are you?”

  The guy seemed pensive for a moment before answering. “You seem like a good kid. I’ll just park on the side of the street and watch to make sure you get inside alright.”

  Honestly, Noah wasn’t sure if he was a good kid. Maybe he was? He probably wasn’t if he had done drugs. Nevertheless, he felt relieved the cop at least thought so. He wanted to avoid having to explain why he was being dropped off by the police.

  It was bad enough that he didn’t know the real reason why he had been downtown, so he wanted to be careful about who he told about his amnesia. His general knowledge about language, familiar locations, and a general sense of ‘ how things worked’ seemed intact, but the specifics were just…gone.

  Noah pointed to his home, and the officer pulled off a few houses down the street. He then expressed his appreciation, got out, and headed down the sidewalk. Being here, walking in this direction to his house, felt oddly nostalgic. It was as if he had made this trip a thousand times.

  It felt good – he didn’t know why, but for whatever reason this short walk felt amazing. Noah could tell there was a related memory at the edge of his mind, but he couldn’t remember what it was. For the time being, he decided to just enjoy the pleasant feeling. It was the most relaxed he had felt since waking up in the warehouse.

  As he reached his house, he noticed the door had a mechanical doorknob with a keypad. Still enjoying the nostalgia, he instinctively typed in the pin code on the door handle without thinking about it. He then paused as he heard the mechanical clicking from the unlocking door.

  The code had been eight digits long – and yet he had just typed it in without a thought…He tried to think about what the numbers actually were but couldn’t remember. He gently ran his fingertips over keypad again, resting a finger on each button as he tried to remember what the first number was. After a moment, his finger found the first one, and then it knew exactly where the second number was…and then the third…

  Weird. I guess it’s like muscle memory.

  Remembering that the officer was still watching him, he looked over towards the cruiser. Embarrassed to be seen standing there like an idiot, he waved, and then opened the door.

  The entrance just inside the house was brightly lit. Immediately to his right was the entrance to an empty dining room. A portion of the table was cluttered with mail. In front of him, hardwood floors stretched from the entrance down the hallway to the edge of a dark room with a flashing light. Noah realized a TV was on, in what he assumed must be a living room. There were several pairs of shoes at the entrance to the door, so he followed suit and took his off too.

  Walking down the hallway, he considered whether he should sneak upstairs. But then he decided it would be better to announce his presence rather than being caught sneaking around.

  “I’m home,” he said at the entrance to the living room. The hardwood floor transitioned to carpet where he was standing. A man sitting on the couch glanced over at him, responding in a pleasant tone.

  “How’d it go?”

  Noah wasn’t sure how to answer, so he just gave a vague reply. “Fine.”

  “Great. Your mother’s in bed already. Early shift in the morning.”

  Noah didn’t remember what his mother did for work, nor did he remember who the stranger was in the living room. He had been hoping that seeing a familiar person would aid his memory, but there was nothing.

  He tried to keep the conversation vague. “Right, I’m pretty tired, so I’m going to head to my room. ”

  The guy nodded. “Sounds good. Goodnight son.”

  Noah was slightly alarmed as he nodded in response and began heading upstairs. Was this guy his father? Because, if this was his father, then that was a really bad sign if he didn’t recognize him.

  Upstairs, Noah recalled where his room was, so he opened the door and quickly closed it behind him. He could feel the tension begin to leave his shoulders as he sat down at a desk with a lapt
op computer. It felt like he had overcome some huge trial. This room was comforting, and the release of stress was so powerful that he almost wanted to cry. He was glad it was finally over. He was safe now.

  But now he needed to figure out who he was.

  Noah opened the computer, thankful that he didn’t need to input a password. A browser was already open with several websites loaded. A notification popped up on the screen, saying he had a new message. He clicked the notification and it loaded.

  At 9:12 PM it read: “Hey where are you?” And then a minute later at 9:13 PM it read: “Great your phone is here in your car.” At 9:53 PM it read: “I’ve been waiting for almost an hour. Are you okay?” And then immediately afterwards: “Oh, I forgot your phone is with me.”

  The message was from a girl named Riley. He hovered over the small picture next to her message and a larger image popped up. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and was possibly the hottest girl he had ever seen. She looked like a model. Noah looked at the clock in the corner of his screen. It was 10:03 PM. The last message had been sent ten minutes ago.

  Noah quickly typed a response. “I’m really sorry. I’m actually at home right now.”

  Riley replied almost immediately. “WTF. Are you kidding me?”

  Noah could understand how upset she must be. He began typing back. “Sorry, I” But then he paused, not sure how much he should confide in this person. She had apparently been with him before he had gone missing, and she was still waiting for him now. Were they dating? Was she just a friend? He decided to at least let her know about his amnesia.

  “Sorry, I actually hit my head, and I can’t remember anything. A cop drove me home.”

  She responded immediately. “Is this a joke?”

  “No, I mean obviously I must be home, right? You have my phone.” Without his phone or a computer, he wouldn’t be able to send messages to her.

  “Okay, well I guess I’ll just drive your car home then. Good thing you left your keys with me.”

 

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