MEMORIAM

by Rachel Broom

  I hardly slept that night. Nightmares haunted me and I woke up several times, screaming. It reached the point where I couldn’t sleep anymore. My hands gripped the sides of the sink as I gagged, trying to get the man’s face out of my head. Relief flooded through me when I heard the loud hum of hunters leaving their rooms in the morning.

  It was my second day of mental training. Trent had told me I would be meeting him in the weaponry today. I had never been to the weaponry before. It was underneath the centicular, past the laundry division in the caverns underground. I took the lift down with a group of laundry workers and got off when the lift opened up to the weaponry.

  It was much colder down here and wet; somewhere in the distance was the faint pit-pat of water and to my right up ahead was a large open space. A rumbling sound echoed off of the cavernous ceilings above.

  Trent was waiting ahead in the large cavern. I crossed the uneven floor and greeted him as I came closer.

  “Congratulations. It’s your last week. Like I said before, the third week is devoted to emotional and mental training. There are psychological issues that many hunters deal with, and as a result we train you in advance so you don’t run into these problems. They’re meant to strengthen your mind as you prepare to hunt. As you’ve already noticed, we’ve done most of our training in the other room. Now we are switching gears. We’ll start with Memoriam. After that we’ll lead into the simulation room and rotate between the two until your training is complete.”

  “What’s Memoriam?”

  “It was a program designed by the Trux twenty years ago, used against the rector, Catedo. It was designed to create new memories out of past recollections and present fears. The purpose was to confuse the patient between reality and dreams, therefore numbing them to the actual present.”

  “How does that work exactly?”

  “You enter a type of dream state, where the program then searches for memories. It latches memories onto present fears that you have and combines the two to create a new memory.”

  “Do the Trux only use it on hunters or on other Pax, as well?”

  Trent met my eyes and I knew then that I had crossed a line. “That’s not for me to say.”

  “Have people lost their real memories amongst the fake ones during Memoriam?”

  Trent’s eyes narrowed. “It’s been rumored that some have.”

  I assumed he wasn’t going to say anything else so that meant I had lost my chance to ask him any further questions, though the answer of what happened to my memories felt close.

  Trent led me through the cavern until we reached a hallway. He stopped next to a small door and opened it, leading me to the middle of the room where a chair sat with cords hanging around it. It was eerily similar to the room where I was branded. I couldn’t help but shiver as I touched the ‘H’ on my wrist that had finally healed. It disgusted me how easily I was marked up, like an alleyway on the outskirts of Stoclo.

  “All right, sit down.”

  My heart was pounding. I took a deep breath and stepped up into the chair, lying down on my back. The cold metal seemed to seep through my jumpsuit like ice. Trent went over the wall to a tablet and tapped a large button, activating metal cuffs that slid across my wrists just like when I was branded. I swallowed as the final one slid across my neck. How dangerous was this procedure?

  Trent pulled the cords hanging from the ceiling over to me and attached them to different parts of my body – my chest, wrists, ankles, and shoulders. My ears were ringing now.

  “Trent?”

  “Yes?”

  “Does it hurt?”

  Trent had a guilty expression on his face. “In your heart more than anything.”

  My throat tightened. I wished I had Sam by my side right then. The ringing in my ears grew louder as the ceiling blurred.

  “Trent?” I tried to turn my head to see where he was but couldn’t. My heart quickened. Shapes blurred and everything went dark for a second. I blinked several times, gaping at the image that I saw.

  There was a huge chandelier above me, a thousand jewels showering over me, each one glinting in the sunlight. The jewels were strung like the inside of a flower, gathered in the middle then fanning out. My fingers skimmed the five jewels that hung lower than the rest. They started to sing. It was a gentle hum, like a faint whisper in the wind that grew louder, singing beautiful notes like water in a brook. It reminded me of the field from my memory: quiet, yet beautiful for its simplicity. The chandelier began to shake. I let go of the jewels and stood back, looking around for the cause of this sudden shake. The chandelier suddenly snapped and fell, each jewel flying through the air, whistling its dying breath, and hit the ground with a deafening crash. I didn’t realize I was bleeding until I looked down and saw my arms covered in blood. I wiped them on my clothes, looking around for something to bandage them in.

  I inhaled sharply and blinked several times. I was staring at a tangle of wires above me.

  “Vi, can you hear me?”

  I closed my eyes. I was in a room...I swear I was.....with a chandelier...and now I was here. Trent must have released me because the shackles holding down my body came off and Trent was unhooking the cords from my body.

  “You look pale.”

  “I’m sure it’s just a side effect.”

  “Do you want to go the healing center?”

  I shook my head. Every time I looked down at my arms I pictured them covered in blood. The chandelier I saw made me think of the Trux and the Pax. I always had this innate hope that it could work between us. It was a peaceful invasion when the other rectors helped the Pax take Rinfero back from the Trux. No military tanks or cops circled above as our presidents shook hands. The sun kissed the Hazmal Mountains as we celebrated this new union of two nations, despite the Trux’s anger at being turned over to the Pax. There were more fireworks at this occasion than when our Pax President was instated, and at the end of the day it was rumored that the two leaders had joined in a drink to celebrate. These were stories told to me and as a child I believed them. I believed anything, as any child would. It is the one weapon children are born with: innocence.

  Trent said we had to train more, but after one round of Memoriam he let me go back to my room. I lay on my bed for hours, staring at the ceiling. I tried to remember what the Head looked like. The only thing I could recall was when he was instated as our president. At that point it was impossible to ignore the Trux’s growing power.

  You used to hear the Trux rebels chanting in the streets at night as you fell asleep, and in the morning when you went to work you’d see the remainder of their rallies; signs and names of Pax officials littered the streets. Once a Pax council member was taken and raped. Those were the nights I stayed up listening to the chanting. I remembered one night when I was coming back from an interview with a Pax council member about my career options and I spotted a group of rebels walking down the main path of the city, shouting vulgar phrases and throwing rocks against peace keepers’ vehicles. One of them had yelled at me so I started running, clutching my bag to my chest. Inside my bag were documents declaring me a Pax, so I knew if they stopped me they’d see inside my papers. I sent a panic message to the nearest peace keeper through my tracker and within minutes one arrived, taking me home safely in his pod.

  I stopped going out at night after that. Stoclo was too dangerous. Rinfero was becoming more and more divided. The Trux seemed so strong compared to us. It was easy for them to get their way and for us to be okay with it.

  I hugged my shoulders and closed my eyes, picturing that chandelier. Maybe we were heading for that - destruction. We fell so easily, like a chandelier crashing to the ground. It made no difference if we were the most powerful rector. We were a fallen state now.

  Part two of emotional/mental training was the simulation room. Trent took me there after my run the next morning. Vince had given me a hug when I departed with Trent.

  “Don’t let it scare you,” he whispered in my ear as h
e hugged me. No one hugged me like that except Sam. It surprised me how much comfort I felt through that hug. I didn’t realize how open my heart was to the idea of love, of how much the Pax as a whole desperately longed for human touch, but instead we got mankind’s creation: metal. The kind that could stop our hearts and end our lives.

  “The simulation room is designed to replicate the world around you. It creates different simulations to help you practice because in the real world things will be very different.”

  We stepped outside the training center entrance and went into the door on the right.

  “Hunters first.” Trent opened the door and I stepped in.

  Inside was a dead forest. Trees shot up all around me. Branches intertwined above me and gnarled roots sprung up under my feet. The sky was a pale mist with a fog that hung low, running across the roots like water. I jumped when Trent snapped a twig.

  “Where are we?”

  “This is the simulation room. It’s designed to change according to the hunter’s memory.”

  “I don’t remember this place.”

  “Interesting choice for someone who can’t remember - an abandoned forest.”

  The wind tickled my chin. I shivered and rubbed my arms.

  “I will be waiting at the other end. Your job is to get through safely.” He held out a hand gun. “This is your weapon.”

  I stared at the gun. In my head I was saying no, but I wasn’t sure if it was coming out. Obviously not, because I reached out and took the gun. It felt as though a sudden weight was added to the right side of my body and I felt lopsided as I held it in my hand.

  Sam flashed in my mind, his hands around my waist. I held a gun in my hands and was aiming at knot in a tree. We were standing in a forest together. The smell of damp earth after a rainstorm filled the air.

  “Point it like this. Position your body - perfect.”

  The moment stopped. What the hell was that? I’d never shot a gun with Sam before. Thinking of the way he’d touched me made me blush.

  Trent was staring at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine. How do I know where it ends?”

  “I don’t know. It’s your creation, not mine.” He trudged back out the door, leaving me alone. I looked back at the large forest, rubbing my head. It was just me and this forest. This kind of solitude made me feel like I was back in my room all over again, hoping for time to pass faster so I did not have to feel the pain of what I’d lost.

  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, my breath coming out in one big puff, hanging in the air like a cloud before disintegrating. It was now or never.

  It was eerie to walk amongst the trees and remind myself that this wasn’t real. Every tree I touched, every branch that quivered when I hit it, or the heavy thud when I walked, seemed real. There was nothing but endless trees and no sign of a path. If there was, it was probably a trap set up by Trent. He taught me never to trust man-made paths. I heard a rustle in the trees that made me cock my gun.

  “Hello? Trent, if that’s you it’s not funny,” I yelled out.

  Was Trent somewhere in here? Was he hiding and expecting me to find him and shoot him with this fake gun? No one appeared so I kept walking. Soon my ears rang from the cold and my eyes were strained from trying to see through the fog. I cupped my hands over my face to warm my lips and nose. There was a slight moan, as if the trees were sighing. I lowered my gun and rested against a tree, listening to the quiet hum of the wind. Then I felt it; someone was watching me.

  I spotted a figure out of the corner of my eye. I snaked my way around the tree and poked my head out. A man with rigid cheekbones and small frame sprang out from a grouping of pines, pointing a gun at me. I screamed and jumped back, my heart racing. Was that man real? If not, what was he?

  It was seeing the man’s eyes that made me sure I could shoot him. They were red. I swallowed and came out from my hiding spot. My finger rested on the trigger. Whatever this creature was, he had to be part of the simulation.

  “He’s not real, Vi,” I said to myself. “Just shoot him and he’ll be gone.” I gripped my gun tighter. “Sorry,” I said. The gun fired and the man was gone. I was alone once more.

  I was tired. An hour and a half had to have passed since I had run into the red-eyed man and I was still wandering around trying to find a way out. The end had to be close. Up ahead I spotted an old cabin that looked abandoned. I sighed in relief and broke into a run, leaving my gun in the leaves as I climbed the steps and burst through the door. A warm feeling swelled in my chest as if I were home.

  It was a one-room cabin. In one corner was a pile of blankets and in the other a fireplace with two logs, charcoaled and brittle. I went over and nudged the blankets. To my surprise they moved. Before I knew what was happening an arm poked out, then a leg, and then a head.

  I shouldn’t have dropped my gun back in the forest. The realization of my big mistake hit me as a figure rose from the blankets. It was a woman. She had short dark hair that hid half of her face and she was wearing an old jacket that hung on her like a sack. The woman turned and spotted me. Curiosity perked its head up when I saw her face. She had the same small lips, the big eyes, and the same puzzled look as me.

  I shook my head. “No. This isn’t real.”

  The woman was me. That was my hair. Her red eyes looked into my hazel ones. On the woman’s wrist was a Trux tattoo. Confusion, hate, and sadness exploded inside of me. What was happening?

  “Trent, get me out!” I yelled, looking around. “I know you can hear me! Get me out!”

  “He can’t hear you,” she said. She sounded just like me.

  The blankets fell at the woman’s feet. I backed up against the cabin wall, fear ringing in my ears. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be me. She was evil, just like that red-eyed man.

  She reached forward and grabbed my arm, dragging me over to the fireplace in the corner where I spotted a branding stick. It had the Trux symbol at the end.

  “No.” I tried to pull away. She climbed on top of me and held the stick in one hand, bringing it close to my arm.

  “Stop it!” I screamed. “I’m not one of you!”

  Her red eyes widened. “You have my eyes.”

  “That’s because we’re the same person.”

  The woman’s eyes widened and her body began to twitch. Within seconds she vanished. I was alone in the cabin once more. I pulled my knees to my chest and licked my lips.

  “You’re done. It’s over. ” I recognized Trent’s shoes in front of me and saw him standing over me. The cabin was gone. Instead I was in a small white room, similar to the Memoriam one.

  “What happened to the forest?”

  “The simulation is over...along with the hallucinations. This is what the simulation room looks like when it isn’t being used.”

  “Why did that cabin show up?”

  “Each simulation is personal to the hunter who creates it. I don’t know why your subconscious chose to put you there.”

  I shuddered. The red-eyed version of me, the one with the Trux tattoo, scared me. Was that what my future looked like? It was what I was most afraid of: losing myself to become a killer. I wanted to be better than that.

  “You seem pretty upset. I’d go get an emotional relaxer from the healing center.”

  “I’m not upset,” I snapped at Trent.

  “Trust me, you need one.”

  Trent did not say a word when I walked out of the room. No future training sessions, no nightly run, nothing. Trent said nothing.

  I wondered what Sam would say. We hadn’t talked since the night I had met Mary and accused him of knowing more about me than he let on. I wasn’t sure how Sam was going to react when he saw me again. When I reached the healing center he was in the corner tending to someone. Bronte was putting new sheets on a bed.

  “Violet, what are you doing here?” She asked.

  “My trainer suggested I take an emotional relaxer.”

  “You do look pal
e.”

  “Well I’d like to be a different color, but that’s not the way the world works.”

  Bronte rested her hands on her hips. She must not have recognized my joke. “Take a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  I went over and sat down on the bed she’d just made, keeping an eye on Sam. Would he be mad when he saw me? Bronte went over and rested her hand on Sam’s back, whispering in his ear. My legs swung back and forth, skimming the ground. Next thing I knew Sam was coming my way, his hand grazing my shoulder as he sat down.

  “You look pale,” he said. His hand pressed against my forehead. “Fever. Are you sick, too?”

  “I had a simulation. Trent insisted I get an emotional relaxer.” The expression on Sam’s face was unreadable. Was he still mad at me?

  Sam shook his head. “The things he puts you through…”

  I closed my eyes as Sam bustled around. It was easier to stare at the backs of my eyelids rather than Sam’s unreadable face. There was a sound of metal scraping against floor then warm skin against mine. Sam’s hand was against my forehead, rubbing some kind of ointment on my temples.

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “It’s my job.”

  We were quiet for a second.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  I opened my eyes. “For getting mad at you the other night. It was rude to assume you knew anything.”

  Sam’s eyebrows were strung together as he stared at my forehead.

  “Please tell me I don’t have a stain on my forehead from that ointment you just put on me.”

  Sam’s mouth twitched. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ll have this stain for the rest of your life.”

  I grinned. “Shit.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Hold on, let me get an oral relaxer.” He passed me a thin green square the size of my fingernail. “Let this dissolve in your mouth. It should kick in within minutes.”

  I stuck the pill in my mouth. A hot sensation filled my cheeks and burned my gums. I stuck out my tongue.