Reset

“Yeah, I don’t know where I was. But I do know I was being ushered somewhere and…” He closed his eyes. “Someone was saying, ‘This way. Go this way. The explosion took out that wing.’” He opened his eyes. “I remember the rumbling. The noise. But everything else…”

“A blur.”

“You got it.”

His memories didn’t help nor did they jar anything in Nora. Instead of being more enlightened as the minutes past, she grew more confused about what exactly was going on.

SIX – Normal

John Heming wondered what was wrong with the others, especially the man named Jason who helped him in the shower. He was calm, too calm. Did he know what happened and was pretending that he didn’t?

Why didn’t they feel frantic? John did. He felt confined and wanted nothing more than to get out, to find his family and get home to them. An urgency to leave, run, and escape, as if he had been a prisoner.

But a part of him knew he wasn’t a prisoner. If he was, where were the guards? There were no cameras in the room that he could see. What was holding him there? Once dressed he fled from the room and looked down the hall. His room was dead center.

It was the longest hallway he had ever seen. Eight feet wide, nearly a hundred feet long if not more. A white hall with overhead lights and at each end of the hall was a door.

The one door had no handle, it was flush and the square above it didn’t even have the word exit on it. The other wasn’t marked either but it had a silver push bar and John ran there.

He shoved on the door and it didn’t budge. He banged and pushed filled with insanity to leave.

“Twelve,” Jason called out. “Stop.”

“I need to get out of here.” John turned from the door. Staring at him were Jason, the woman, and a new guy. “What’s wrong with you people? Don’t you want to leave? You seem content to be here. Can’t you tell they did something to us?”

Jason stepped forward. “We don’t remember anything. I barely remember my life, it’s like a dream. I’m not…” He closed his eyes tightly as if frustrated. “I’m not feeling like I know anything.”

“Well I do,” John said. “I do. My name is John. John Heming. Not Number Twelve. I am forty-six years old, from Chicago Illinois. I am a writer. I have four sons, a wife… who… my God.” He turned toward the door. “Was in the middle filing for divorce when I left. I need…” he pounded. “To get out.”

The woman yelled. “Stop. Please. Pounding on it isn’t getting us out.”

“There’s more here.” John waved his hand around. “More to this place than just this hall. What is behind all these doors? More people? Why are we the only ones awake? You people may be missing memories, but I feel we are missing something. Something we need to do. I feel it.”

“John,” The new guy walked to him. “My name is Malcolm. I’m just as confused as everyone else. If we are gonna get out or get beyond that door, we need to figure out how instead of just banging on it.”

John nodded. “You’re right.”

Jason snapped his finger. “Nora, you were looking at the boxes in storage. Did you see anything that wasn’t food? Like tools?”

“I didn’t notice, but then again, I didn’t really look,” Nora said. “Twelve… I mean… John woke up.”

“Then we look,” Jason said. “Maybe there is something there we can pry it open with. John? Does that work? You and I will look. Malcolm and Nora can keep watch in the hall, and check their rooms for anything.”

Reluctantly, John stepped from the door. “Fine. Let’s look. Because there are two doors that don’t open. Someone wants us in here and that means…” John walked toward Jason. “We in this hall are not the only ones in this building.”

SEVEN – Boxes

Jason took John to the storage room and then after saying he’d return, he went back to his room. Room Nine.

He returned there to change but didn’t look. Now he had to. The name above the encasement chamber.

Jason looked.

Rudolph.

As soon as he looked at it the name registered in his mind. Jason Rudolph.

He repeated it several times until it felt like a sledgehammer nailed him. He had some sort of physical reaction. His body swayed and suddenly, he had a full-fledged memory.

At first it didn’t make sense. He was standing before tens of thousands of people, holding a microphone and speaking.

Jason Rudolph.

Was he a singer?

No.

His eyes widened.

He had a wife. Melissa. He remembered her, he saw her in his mind, her red hair. Her beautiful face. Instantly he felt love for her. It consumed him, overwhelmed him. How could he forget her? And his child. A daughter. A baby. A new baby.

It was all coming back to him and quickly too. Suddenly Jason felt excited, enthused and then he felt like John. Frantic to get out, to get home. He didn’t remember why he was there or even how he got there, but he knew he was supposed to be elsewhere, with his family and home.

Surely, a door in his mind opened. Soon, Jason believed, he’d remember it all. With motivation he ran back to storage.

He could barely breathe, speak, he was excited and scared all at the same time.

“John,” He called out as he ran in.