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  Jason said he was going to walk the hallway and see if anyone else happened to be around.

  He had lost just as many memories. In fact he didn’t even know his last name. Nora knew hers, at least she thought she did.

  Jason didn’t know if he was married, had children. Unlike Nora, he didn’t remember being lowered into that fluid.

  He did, however say he remembered a phone call. That was his last memory. A phone call. What that call entailed … he was lost.

  Did Nora receive a call and not remember? Clearly Jason was lowered into fluid. Maybe together, the bits and pieces they did know would fit together like a puzzle.

  She could hear him trying the doors, knocking on them. Her focus was deciding on what to eat. She was still weak, her legs didn’t want to move much.

  Nora checked out the boxes. There were so many, lined up, stacked high. From what she could see, some were marked.

  She grabbed a box, marked protein, and opened it. It was filled with four inch, airtight sealed silver packs. She grabbed one.

  “Someone’s up,” Jason called into the storage room. “The light went on.”

  The protein pack slipped from her hand and Nora stood. She lost her balance as she turned to face Jason who stood in the doorway.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Nora moved to him. “Did you look inside?”

  “I did. I didn’t see anyone or that fluid.”

  “So they’re waking up now.” She walked with Jason.

  “Maybe their video will work. This way.” He pointed. “Number Twelve.”

  She quickly followed him. “Do you think the door is still locked?”

  “I don’t know. I just want to get there before he comes to.”

  “And falls out of the contraption. Like I did.”

  “Me, too,” Jason said and stopped to the door. “I just splashed out with the ooze. Woke up choking. Of course, you did, too.”

  They stopped before Door Twelve.

  Jason looked at her then peeked in through the window. “It’s a man.” He reached for the door and it slid open.

  They rushed inside.

  Clearly, to Nora, things were happening different with the man.

  Small red dots of lights blinked on the top of the box contraption. The naked man was suspended by a ring clamp that wrapped around his waist. There was a respirator tube in his mouth and his eyes were closed as the fluid slowly lowered.

  “Is he dead?” Jason asked.

  “I don’t …” Nora shook her head and stopped. Her eyes lifted. “Heming.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Heming. The name under the red lights. Heming. Do you think that’s his name or the name of the machine?”

  Jason shrugged, “Do you remember having a breathing tube?”

  “No. Then again, I didn’t grasp anything until I was face first on the floor in a puddle.”

  “Choking,” Jason said. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  Nora stood a few feet from the encasement, her eyes shifting from that to the monitor on the wall. The gel like fluid drained completely from the man and the red lights turned blue. A hissing noise was released and the encasement filled with a steam. So much so the man could not be seen.

  The lights turned green, the vapor disappeared and then it did, the man’s eyes were open. The tube ejected from his mouth and the clamp released him.

  He became aware.

  That was evident.

  In a panic, he swiped his hands frantically up and down his arms, shifted left to right and as the door began to open, he grew impatient, shoving it and slipping through.

  He didn’t fall face first to the floor in a puddle of goo. However, with rubbery legs, he lunged forward, nearly losing his balance. He was a man in his forties, maybe older. It was hard to tell. His hair was thin and gray, balding on top. He seemed oblivious to the fact he was naked his awakening was more mentally traumatic. At least it seemed that way to Nora. Physically he seemed fine.

  His temper flared and angrily he blasted, “What did you people do to me? Where am I?”

  “Sir …” Jason spoke softly.

  He grabbed for Jason, yanking and holding on to his shirt. “What did you do? Oh my God. My wife. My family.”

  “We did nothing.” Jason fought the man’s grip. “We are in the same boat as you.”

  “Boat? We’re on a boat?” he asked.

  “No.” Jason shook his head. “Figure of speech. I ...”

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” He took a single steps and the monitor came on catching his attention as well as Jason and Nora’s.

  The image wasn’t quite as bad as Nora recalled, he same man in a lab coat, speaking to the camera. “Good morning. By now you have awakened. Please, for your health, as quickly as possible, relieve your bladder and wash any remaining residue from your skin and hair. You will find we have provided you with clothing. At this point, you are wondering what is going on, All those questions will be answered when you …”

  It was the same message Nora received with only a few more words.

  “When?” the man asked, his body began to shiver and his voice trembled. “When will it be answered?” He stared hard at Jason.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know. My message cut off right after he said to shower.”

  “Well, she knows,” the man pointed at Nora.

  “I don’t.” Nora answered helpless.

  “Really?” He asked with sarcasm, his voice increasingly trembling as much as his body. “I find that hard to believe. You were there. I know that face.” He reached out. “You were the last person I remember seeing.”

  Then the man collapsed to the floor.

  FIVE – Malcolm

  “Do you think this is why they said to wash?” Nora asked Jason in a near state of panic, staring above Number Twelve as he lay naked and motionless on the floor.

  “More than likely,” Jason reached for the man. “He’s breathing.” He then hoisted him to his feet, bracing the man’s back to his chest as he dragged Twelve toward the bathroom. “Get the water. Turn it on.”

  “He’s out. How are you going …?”

  “I’ll hold him up. Go on hurry.”

  She did as requested, reaching into the shower stall, turning on the water and testing it.

  Jason was struggling, Nora could see that, but he held tight to the man as he stepped into the shower. He placed his back flush on the wall as a means of support. “Aim the water on him, please.”

  Nora did. She adjusted the flow to hit the man. “He’s not waking.”

  “Give him a few seconds he will.”

  She stepped back, then noticed the man’s fingers moved and his arm swayed some. She hurriedly grabbed a towel from the shelf and as she did she heard it.

  Another voice.

  “Anyone?” a male yelled. “Hello!”

  It seemed that Jason didn’t hear, if he did, he didn’t acknowledge.

  “Oh, shit,” Nora looked behind her.

  “What is it?”

  “Someone is calling out.”

  “Go. Go. I got this.”

  Nora nodded stepped back at the same time Number Twelve cocked his head. She spun from the bathroom and raced out of Room Twelve.

  No sooner did she step in the hallway, she saw the man down the other end of the hall where the high number rooms were located. A thicker built man, completely nude, staggered, holding on to the wall and walked in the opposite direction. He stopped at a room and knocked on the door.

  “Hello,” he called out. “Someone. Anyone.” He placed his hands flush against the door and lowered his head in defeat.

  Nora moved as quickly as she could toward him. “Hey.”

  He slowly lifted his head and turned, gasping out when he saw her. “Where am I?”

  Nora reached for him, the substance still covered his body. “Did you get the message in your room?”

  “What ... what message? What’s going on?
I …”

  “Listen, you have to wash this stuff off of you. Look at your hands.”

  He lifted one and his fingers trembled.

  “Whatever this is. Whatever covered us has to be washed off. Come, I’ll help you back.” She grabbed hold of his arm and looked around. She spotted the open door of Room twenty. “This way.”

  The man, no older than thirty had to have woken minutes after Number Twelve. With each short distance they moved, the man’s body trembled more and Nora feared he too, like Twelve would collapse.

  But he didn’t. He made it into Room Twenty and into the bathroom with little assistance from her. She asked him if he needed any help and he declined. He sounded confused and lost, then again, Nora knew what he was feeling.

  Her heart raced from the double awakening. There were so many rooms, and really she had only been in that hall, no further. There could be a whole facility around them.

  Taking a breather she stepped from Room Twenty with the full intention of finding Jason and asking him about Number Twelve. He was already in the hallway, soaking wet.

  “Is there another awake?” Jason asked.

  “Yes. What about Twelve? Is he okay?”

  “He’s in the shower. He’s better. I’m gonna grab dry clothes. How is …”

  “Twenty,” She said. “Confused. But fine. Washing.”

  “Just watch him and you may want to grab him a water.”

  It was a good idea and while Twenty showered, Nora went to the supply room for water and crackers. She passed Room Twelve en route and thought about the man in there. He said he knew her, recognized her. In fact, she was the last person he recalled seeing.

  How was that possible? Nora didn’t recall knowing him.

  Another piece of the puzzle.

  She returned to Room Twenty, the shower water was running. She could hear it. She glanced at the dark television monitor and wondered if it played a partial message and the man just missed it. She set down the water on the desk under the television then tapped on the bathroom door.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’ll be out in a moment.”

  Nora glanced to the bed. Like with her, plastic bags were there, sealed clothing inside.

  “There are clothes out here. They left clothes for us.”

  “Whoever ‘they’ may be.”

  She huffed a slight laugh of agreement and looked around the room. It was the same as hers, as Number Twelve. The encasement was the same. It too had a respirator tube. Seeing that again made Nora wonder if her unit had malfunctioned, Jason’s as well. Since they both were choking or rather drowning when they woke up.

  It baffled her, maybe she physically woke up before the process ended. Clearly it was something to render them unconscious, maybe part of the process included a clear breathing awakening .

  As with Number Twelve, the encasement unit had a name on top. This one ‘Lowe’ confirming to her that Number Twelve was Heming.

  “Lowe,” she said out loud.

  His voice startled her. “That’s my last name. My first name is Malcolm.”

  She turned, he wore towel, and quickly to be polite, she turned away. “I’m Nora.”

  “Whoever did this, had their eye on us at least long enough to label our liquid coffins,” he said.

  She listened to the sound of rippling plastic as he opened the bags. “Or they labeled us after.”

  “I take it you woke up in one of these?” he asked.

  “I fell out. Was choking, that fluid was stuck in my throat.”

  “You must have spit your air tube out. Or maybe you were in there too long. You can turn around, I’m dressed.”

  Nora did. He was pulling the shirt over his head. “Why would you say that?” She reached and handed him the water. “Drink.”

  “Say what? About being in there too long? I don’t know.” He shrugged, opened the bottle and took a long drink. “I just likened it to a womb. You know when a baby is overdue, there is a danger that they can start to breathe or try and they inhale the amniotic fluid. I don’t know, something like that.”

  “Do you remember anything, Malcolm? Anything at all?”

  “It’s foggy. Very foggy. Like my life … it’s bits and pieces.”

  Nora closed her eyes. “I know that feeling. A part of me feels it will break through. But the last thing I remember is being lowered into the encasement.”

  He whistled and took another drink. “I don’t remember that. The last thing I remember was the explosion.”

  “An explosion?”

  “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 N
ora 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.

  “I think I have something here,” John said. “All of these boxes are survivor materials. Food, water, rations, medical supplies. This box is heavy, bet me it has tools. It’s not marked. Although for the life of me I can’t figure out why they’d give us tools if they were keeping us prisoner.”