“What are you doing tomorrow, around five?”
“In the evening?” he asked.
I nodded.
He chuckled. “Meeting you, of course. Where shall it be?”
“Here.”
He smiled. I found it pleasant … truthful … reliable. “You got it.”
“Good.” I smiled in return as he moved back down the bar to another customer.
The ticket stub claimed my attention. Twirling it between my fingers, I focused on the feel of the paper’s fibers. Almost as if I willed it, I started to remember something—or someone. I was sitting at the same bar when someone sat next to me and ordered a drink. Though I don’t remember what I was upset about, he talked to me. I couldn’t recall his features, his voice, or even his words. But somehow, he made me smile. His words reached me when nothing else did. It made my heart yearn for him. The stranger that remained a fragment of my lost memories.
“That’s the game the cost us the championship,” the bartender said, snapping me back to present.
“I don’t really follow the sport.”
He made a face at me. A doubtful face. One that said he knew a whole lot more about me than I knew of myself.
“What?”
“If you were willing to stay after closing, I would be able to talk to you more freely, and not over loud music.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I really have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I removed myself from the counter.
“Five o’clock,” he said pointing at me.
“You got it.” I turned to make my way home, more confused than I was before.
Something else came to me from that memory. Something that made me second-guess myself. The bartender was there, and he didn’t like how the other guy made me smile. I slipped my hands into my jacket, replacing the ticket stub.
I stepped around the doorman just as he stopped me. “Hey, where are you off to?”
I faced him. “Home.”
“See ya, Ghost.” His lips pulled tight over his large, white teeth.
“You bet,” I said. His term ‘Ghost’ echoed through my mind. Somehow, I knew he wasn’t referring to me being back from the dead. Still, I turned, continuing home.
EIGHT
I LIED IN MY bed and tried to let sleep claim me, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Worry of the nightmarish chaos to come weighed on my shoulders to the point my back ached. The horrifying images and sounds, the terrifying feeling they left in the pit of my stomach, the nagging suspicion there was more to them, also kept me from sleep.
The endless streams of questions wouldn’t cease. I needed to know more about the accident. More specifically, why I was the only one found, and if there were other survivors, why they didn’t look for me?
I removed myself from bed and dressed. The lobby on the bottom floor of the condos offered a lounge with a full-service restaurant, bar, and live news reports. I could pick up a digital Newsstand and search the archives. A transporter accident would make quite a mess and wouldn’t go unnoticed. Something would have been mentioned.
By the time I reached the lounge, it was filling with cadets grabbing their coffees, pastries, and recent news updates before leaving for duty at the Academy. Many of them had on the typical, military-style, red uniform, complete with a black stripe down the side of the legs and across the shoulders with silver buckles and buttons. The Academy’s emblem was embroidered on the right shoulder of each jacket. Strangely, the sight made me feel at home.
I approached an unused Newsstand sitting on the charging station and took it to an empty table. I pressed the archive button on the screen and waited while the search page loaded then input ‘transporter accident’, the date, and then clicked search.
No results returned, centered on an entirely blank screen.
Confusion riddled my senses as I stared at it. I tried again, using different key words. All resulted in the same response. I took the Newsstand back to the charging station, still staring at it blankly.
“Is that one glitching?” asked a cadet returning his. He was tall with the same dark eyes that Alexander had, except his hair was a softer brown and combed to the side.
“I guess. I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell ya what, no matter how advanced our technology gets, it will always have some sort of pitfall or glitch. You could try the other ones. You may have better results.”
“Actually, did you hear of a transporter accident just less than a week ago?”
He stared coldly at me with pursed brows, then cleared his throat, and took in a gulp of air. “I don’t know where you heard that. But I can assure you, there hasn’t been a transporter accident for years.” He started to walk away, then turned and said, “You’re not from around here, are you?”
I blinked at him then shook my head.
So the accident was covered up, then, which also meant all information regarding it would be hidden under layers of restricted clearance.
The cadet was right about one thing: Transporters were much safer and less likely to malfunction and crash than normal vehicles and planes. The fact that I was in an accident in one would have been plastered all over the news and caused too much alarm. It would be too showy.
Whoever was responsible for the transporter going down must have done it on purpose.
They had been clever enough to cover their tracks, to not be caught or have attention drawn to it. So, how had I survived? They must have attempted to kill everyone to ensure it was successfully covered up. Did they know I survived? Would they come after me? More importantly, how did Jenna and Alexander know about it? My memories had to be the key.
The cadet said, “If you want, I could show you around when I get off?”
“No, thanks. I’ll find my own way.”
He shrugged. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I’m here before and after duty. Just come by and see me.”
“Thanks.”
I waited just a few minutes longer before returning to my apartment. Instead of crawling in bed, I grabbed a pillow and blanket and tossed them to the couch. With the information I had just gained, I needed to visit the Academy. That meant I needed sleep.
The couch was firm. It was smaller and warmer than my bed, which helped me not feel so alone. Just as sunrise lightened the sky outside my window, I couldn’t fight sleep any longer. I wasn’t so frightened anymore…
Alarms pierced my ears. Chaos erupted around me. Things fell from the ceiling as wind pulled at me, taking my breath away. I tried to move toward the front of the transporter, looking for someone. Then something slammed against my head, or I was thrown into it. Things weren’t stable enough to keep my footing.
My vision blurred as a throbbing sensation radiated from the point of impact. I viewed the world from underneath murky waters. The transporter was empty of the one I searched for.
Something pulled on me, but I yanked my arm free. Even as my heart raced and broke at the same time.
I was going to die, and the person I was searching for had left me behind. Me! Why would he do that?
I turned around; the rear corner was missing and torn away as if some great creature had taken the chunk with its razor sharp claws. Knowing my chance at survival was slim, I strapped myself into the nearest seat and waited for the sudden end of the plummet. The end that would take my life.
Another sound pierced my ears, silencing the dream of all sound and movement. As if it was paused inside my mind. It was the sound of a doorbell. Mine, to be exact.
The remainder of the dream faded away, replaced by the consciousness of reality. I didn't know what was worse—the nightmare or my life. As the doorbell dinged again, I peeled open my eyes. I groggily made my way from the couch to the door.
A small screen popped up from the keypad, showing Jenna on the other side. My mom’s warning whispered in the back of my mind. Don’t trust Jenna… Somehow, I knew I wasn’t new to dangerous people or situations. Jenna knew more than she lead on,
and I needed answers. Pieces to the puzzle of my mind. I could find some through her. My gut told me as much. But that didn’t mean I needed to disclose my newly found information to her just yet.
I pushed the button on the keypad to open the door. She smiled pleasantly with a box in her arms.
“Good morning,” she said.
I nodded. “What’s in the box?”
“Your personal effects from the hospital,” she said, offering me the box. “I figured you would want them. Help jog those memories of yours.”
I took the box to the counter, slid it on the surface, and faced Jenna. She slowly shifted her gaze from the disarray on my couch to the flower-free apartment. I wasn’t going to offer any excuses, and she didn’t seem inclined to ask.
The black pants, blue dress shirt, and long black coat fit my impression of her better, but I still wasn’t entirely sure, she’d dropped the facade. Even the black flats struck me as something more to her tastes than the boots she wore the last couple of days. Her hair was down and pulled from her face by a thick, plastic, blue headband.
She propped a fist on her hip and her arm on the counter, then said, “Rough night?”
“Something like that. So you really just came to drop off my stuff?”
“Alexander was hoping that you would gain some memories when you saw the items. He also wishes you to reconsider tonight and insists you meet him for dinner.”
“So that’s what this is about. Well, you can tell him I respectfully decline,” I said. “I need to have some time … alone.”
She sighed, crossed her arms, and leaned against the counter in between two chairs. She looked me deep in the eyes and said, “I’m only telling you this as a friend, so please, don’t take this the wrong way, but when Alexander says jump…” She let the rest of the old adage remain unspoken.
Without breaking her intense stare, I said, “I just got home, and I want a few days to myself. If he wants me to go to dinner with him that badly he can come to me and ask—not demand. He may own half the city, but he doesn’t own me.”
She blinked a few times then said, “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Are you going to open the box or let it sit there all day?”
I shrugged and turned to open it carefully. It was my gear, but it wasn’t what I was missing. That feeling remained. I pulled each piece out, inspecting it carefully, making sure I spent ample time on each to appease Jenna. I sighed, dropping the last weapon belt into the box, and took it to my room, setting it on the desk in front of the window.
“So what do you think?” Jenna asked when I returned.
“About what?” I picked up the blanket and pillow from the couch and brought them to my room to remake my bed.
Jenna’s shuffling feet followed me.
“About the memories, feeling anything spark or come back?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I don’t think there’s a magical switch somewhere that’s going to bring back my memories. Though that would be nice.”
“True. I was hopeful you would’ve at least remembered something by now…”
“There’re holes missing where there shouldn’t be. Things I only partially remember. But nothing new.”
“What’s it like?” she asked.
“What is what like?”
“Not having your memories.”
“How do you think it is? I’m walking in a stranger’s shoes. It’s almost like I had skipped the last six years and dreamt the parts I remember.”
I proceeded to the kitchen for some semblance of food. I must not have liked to eat or I ate out a lot because it was empty. All that was left in the cabinets were a couple cans of vegetables and a box of really old looking mac and cheese. I sighed.
Jenna came up beside me. “If you want, I can take you out for lunch.”
My eyes found her gaze and saw only the selfish need of her trying to unlock my private memories. But I was so hungry…
NINE
WE WENT TO AN inner-city garden bistro situated at the top of an old apartment building. The penthouse had gone through a number of conversions before settling on the number one restaurant in town. They had the best food for a little more than the droid-operated McDonald’s.
“Since when do you not eat meat?” Jenna asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know I don’t.”
She smiled. “Sounds like you are starting to remember.”
“Some things feel right and others don’t. That’s all.”
“For example?”
“Not eating meat and just knowing things without knowing how I know them.”
She made a face like she was going to ask more questions when an annoying sound erupted from her coat pocket. She dug out a phone, looked at the screen for a split second, then said, “I’ll be right back.”
She stood from the table, quickly walking away.
Our table was next to the patio that overlooked the city in a three-hundred-sixty degree view. Most of the buildings on one side towered much higher. On the other sides, the view was all sky and tree line. The residential district to the south remained shrouded by tram rails and highways. Transporters dotted the sky, flying in toward the air station and Academy.
A bright glare of light nearly blinded me. I had been mindlessly twisting the braided band on my finger with my thumb, catching the sun’s rays. I never thought much about it. It was a part of me. I felt protective over it, especially after the way Alexander reacted to it.
Curiosity got the better of me.
I slipped the ring from my finger and looked on the inside of the band for an inscription. Finding none, I moved to slip it back on. The sun hit my finger, highlighting a band of skin, making it glitter, like it was dusted with powdered diamonds. It was permanent, like a tattoo. My ring must have been put in place to hide it. But what did it mean? It was important, special, and sacred. That much I knew. I slid the ring over that spot and let my hands rest on my lap.
Waiting for Jenna, a memory of a box hidden in my apartment came to me. Not sure whether my memories would come and go or come and stay, I had no choice but to leave without notice. Luckily, I lived close by.
The first thing I did once I stepped through the door was ensure the bolt was engaged and all privacy screens were on. I started in my room, with the dresser, pulling each drawer out, searching them inside and out, including the cavity. Then under my bed, in between the mattresses, the frame, and the headboard. The only other feasible place I would hide anything of importance was the closet.
Tucked away on the very top shelf in the back corner, a large stuffed bear with brown fur stared at me. His beady black eyes, silently pleading for me to pick him up and hold him, melted a little spot in my heart. I took him and placed him in the chair in front of my desk. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at him, waiting for memories involving him to come. After moments of nothing, I cleaned up my destroyed room. Whatever I was looking for had been hidden better than I expected.
I went back to the closet for anything that would grab me as strongly as the bear did. Sunlight shone on the carpet, illuminating a single strand of thread sticking up at the corner. I bent down and pulled on it. The carpet lifted easily, revealing a small, square-shaped door. I pulled on it, holding my breath. Inside laid a box made from rich, dark wood, with an unusual latch. I knew I had hidden it, but I’d never seen a lock like that before. Well, not that I remembered. I removed the box, replaced the floor panel and carpet, then walked to the desk. I moved the bear to the bed, then took a seat and stared at the box.
Rivers of red followed the black grain. A belt of leather, attached by rough metal rivets, encircled and sealed the box with a small, silver square. There were no key holes, knobs, or buttons. Nothing obvious to open it with. It was too beautiful to break open. My heart raced faster, weightless, fluttering lightly.
If I could only remember how to open it…
The memory came to me in flashes. Pictures, shown frame by fram
e, in my mind. The box was set in front of me by a man that stood behind me. I remembered his warmth pressing against my back as I twirled the box in my hands. Then his hand covered mine, slowly moving my thumb with his, rubbing tiny circles over the small, silver square.
“You have to say the magic words to get it open,” his voice whispered softly in my ear.
I snapped to present, the box in my grasp, and my thumb rubbing the lock. “Mea lux, cor meum. Light of my life, my heart.”
The latch released. I hesitated, then set the box on my desk and resituated myself in the chair. After swallowing the lump in my throat that had caused my mouth to go dry, I licked my lips and lifted the lid.
A silver chain lay inside along with other pieces of jewelry. I picked up the chain, holding it in front of me. The charm on it was two silver wings bound together by four stones. A pink stone in the center with three smaller purple stones underneath. I slipped it on and tucked it under my shirt.
I grasped a bracelet on a stretchy string with a number of light and dark stones set in no particular pattern or order. The lighter stones were pinkish with silver and gold flecks. The darker ones looked like the night sky viewed from the middle of an empty field. One polished stone—perfectly round and smooth—with black ribbons hung by a single loop. It stole my breath away. I slipped it on.
I pulled out another bracelet. This one was full of silver angel wing charms with numerous chains and stone beads. Many were quartz. I thought I was going to struggle with getting it on because of the clasp’s design, but I operated the latch as if it were second nature.
There were more pieces of jewelry, but I left them in the box. If I were to take them all out and wear them, I would feel extremely overwhelmed and have to explain their sudden appearance. A few bracelets and a necklace—that couldn’t be seen—wouldn’t make much of a difference. I could easily say that I found them. Or not even answer. Whose business was it, anyway?
Made to Forget (Nepherium Novella Series) Page 4