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  “I’m a preacher.”

  John paused in opening the box. “I’m sorry, what?”

  Jason spoke rapidly and with enthusiasm. “I went back to my room. I looked at the gel box I came from. My name. When I saw it I started to remember. I am a preacher. Or a pastor. Not sure. I have a family. I know that. I also know what you meant now. We need to get out of here.”

  “Well, thank God.” John cleared his throat. “No pun intended to you being a preacher or pastor. Funny, one would think it would be embedded in your soul...” He pulled the tape seal from the box. “This is really heavy it’s …” He opened the flaps. “Guns.”

  “Guns, as in like a weapon?”

  John only glanced at him. “Um yeah, Preacher, guns. Bang.”

  “Why would we need guns?”

  John closed the flap slowly. “I read a book once. They locked eight people in this compound to see who would survive. A game of sorts.”

  “You don’t think this is the case, do you?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know. The writer in me is really thinking outside …” He glanced down. “The box. But these weapons. Why do we need them in here?”

  “You’re a writer?” Jason asked.

  “Yeah,” He nodded. “That’s how I paid the bills.” He pushed the box aside and looked around. “So many boxes here. How long did they expect us to stay?”

  “There are forty-eight rooms. I have an empty backpack in my room. Maybe we’re in the wilderness somewhere and all this is to fill our backpacks.”

  Again, John shook his head as he searched. “No, we’re in New York. Or at least that’s the last place I was when I saw Nora.”

  “But how …”

  “Oh. Wait. Stop.” John moved a box. “Bingo.” He pointed to the fire emergency sign on the wall, and the ax in the glass encasement.”

  “We can use that.”

  “And it tells me a lot,” John said and walked back to the gun box. He grabbed a pistol. “Guns, weapons. We aren’t prisoners. We were put in here for a reason. But what?”

  “If this was your book, John, why would we be here? I mean, you’re a writer. How would you write this?”

  “First thing that comes to mind is an experiment of sorts. The fluid caused some memory loss. But you remembering tells me it is short term, so they don’t really want us to forget. Let me think about this.” Shielding his eyes, John turned from the case and then using the handle of the pistol, after a short snapping hit, he broke the glass on the case.

  After handing Jason the pistol, John retrieved the ax.

  Clenched in his grip, John turned. “Let’s go break that door.”

  “Which one.”

  “Not the one with the broken Exit sign, that’s for sure.”

  The two men had taken a few steps across the room, when Nora came barreling in.

  “Guys, we need help. Number One just woke up and is choking.” She flew back out.

  John set down the ax and raced out with Jason.

  Room Number One was only a few doors down and when they arrived, Malcolm had performed a Heimlich maneuver hold on Number One.

  All Jason could see was a dangling arm, lifeless. Malcolm’s back was to him, his feet slipping on the gel like substance all over the floor. Obviously, like with Jason, Number One’s encasement malfunctioned.

  “Come on.” Malcolm urged. His back heaved as he clenched. He was bigger than the man he tried to help. “He may need CPR. Unless he starts breathing.”

  “What if you lay him down?” John suggested. “Do it that way.”

  “Good idea,” When Malcolm turned his body, the object flew from the man’s mouth and landed on the floor.

  It merged with the other fluid there.

  The man silently gasped. His eyes widened and hand reached out. He released noises that were vain attempts at talking.

  “Shower. He needs to go into the shower,” Nora said and placed her face first to the man. “You need to shower to get this guck off. I know you can’t talk. Nod if you understand me.”

  He did.

  “I got him,” Malcolm said, helping him.

  “Careful, don’t fall,” Nora said as she led the way.

  Jason thought, About this point the video comes on and he turned to see it. He didn’t want to miss the message. Maybe it would have more to it.

  He looked. There was no monitor.

  No television.

  Jason, puzzled looked at John. “Why doesn’t he have a monitor?”

  “More than likely, he knows what’s going on. This is a big piece of the puzzle and tells us who is behind this all. He doesn’t need a video message.”

  “Why would you say that?” Jason asked.

  “You didn’t look at him. He’s Number One, all right,” John said. “That’s the president.”

  EIGHT – LIGHTS ON

  John worked the ax against the corner of the door with as much determination as frustration. “This has to open. It has to.” He banged against the silver bar.

  “What do you suppose the other door is?” Jason asked.

  “Jason,” John exhaled. “I’m not an expert. I know as much about all this as you do.”

  “I’m just having you guess.”

  “I don’t know. I’d say exit, but they blocked out the word exit. This we can safely guess is an exit. It’s not locked.” John pushed the bar again. “I think something is against it. But in case it is just jammed.” John wedged the ax in the frame. “I’ll get through this son of a bitch.”

  “You’re different, John.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean. When I woke up. When Nora woke up. We were confused, near shells of human beings. You have it together. You know who you are, where you came from, what you were doing. We’re still piecing it together. A part of me thinks this door and the other will open when the forty three other people wake up.”

  John stopped and stood upright. “That actually makes sense.”

  “All this is preparatory. The supplies, the clothing, I just wish I knew when the others were waking.”

  “It’s preparatory, but there’s more. It’s behind this door.”

  “I wish President Thomas knew.”

  John laughed.

  “What?” Jason asked. “What’s so funny?”

  “He knows. Don’t let him kid you.”

  “He says he doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t even know he’s the president.”

  John shook his head. “He knows. That’s the preacher in you believing the best. No. Where is he? In his room, while the rest of us are out here trying to figure this place out, trying to figure out what is going on. He’s staying away because he knows.”

  “Why wouldn’t he tell us?”

  “You are full of questions. And son of a bitch, this thing won’t budge.” On his final word, John slammed the ax into the door. When he did two things occurred.

  The door opened.

  Turning around to smile at Jason, John saw it.

  Every door of every room slid open. Lights from the rooms flowed into the hall.

  “I did not cause that, did I?” John asked.

  “No, I think it was a coincidence. It’s time.” Jason glanced at John. “They’re all waking up.”

  On that, John placed down the ax between the door and the frame. That door was finally open and it wasn’t the only one.

  NINE – AWAKENING

  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 have had the time to adjust. You have emerged from what is called a Genesis Unit. This experience hinders long-term memory, may cause cognizant problems, and may delay comprehension. Expect a full return to normalcy in forty-eight hours at which time, another message will play.

  That was it.<
br />
  The full message by the man in the lab coat.

  Forty-three monitors played it all at the same time, but only the monitor in Room Three played the entire message.

  Unfortunately, the occupant of that room didn’t make it. His Genesis Unit never drained and he was nothing more than a gray being, mummified in a thick bluish fluid.

  In fact, most of the remaining forty-three people never woke up.

  Something went wrong.

  Two women and one man were all that emerged.

  Some of the units drained, the occupants were still attached, they never woke, and the respirator was still perched in their lips. Malcolm tried with diligence to revive Number Seven. Her color was good, she wasn’t gray, but she didn’t return.

  It was a quiet synchronized sequence of events. The hum of the lights sounded off and then a hiss as every door unlocked at the same time.

  “Split up,” Jason instructed. “Someone may need help.”

  Nora was nearest to Room One, she knocked on the closed door, and then without waiting for an invitation, she entered. “President Thomas, the others are waking. We may need some help.”

  He was seated in a chair by the foot of his bed, hands folded, he merely glanced up and then back down.

  “Did you hear me?”

  He didn’t reply.

  Giving up, Nora left the room.

  “Something is wrong,” Malcolm said. “They aren’t moving.”

  “This one is,” John yelled from down the hall. “I’m going in.”

  Nora watched then as Malcolm frantically slid open the door to Room Six, it hadn’t opened. “Oh my God.”

  She hurried in after.

  The encasement was void of any fluid. A man was still attached. He didn’t move. His feet darkened from settled blood right before their eyes.

  Malcolm reached to him. “He’s ice cold. What the hell.” And then Malcolm ran back out of the room.

  Nora supposed he was seeing who else needed help.

  She went into Five and the unit was dead. No lights, no blinking. No emptying of the fluid. The woman looked peaceful. Her hair flowed back and formed in the gel.

  It was disheartening and sad. She looked the name Farris and mentally conveyed an “I’m sorry,” to her.

  Figuring, she too needed to see who needed help, Nora left the room. She paused passing Room Seven.

  Malcolm was detaching the woman.

  “Malcolm?” Nora questioned.

  “She’s still warm. She’s not breathing, but she’s still warm.”

  Nora stayed only a moment, she realized Malcolm was going to try to revive her. The lifesaving technique wasn’t even a reaction to Nora. She felt deep inside her she didn’t have a clue on what to do.

  In the situation with Number Eleven, Nora knew there was nothing anyone could do. It was, out of all of them, the most horrific

  The name on the Genesis unit read Coyne. The woman was younger, possibly in her thirties. Her hair pulled back, the respirator had detached from her and was only a few inches from her mouth. Her skin wasn’t mummified, shriveled or gray, she was white, even her hair.

  The fluid did not drain. To Nora, that was a good thing. The Genesis unit was a see through coffin and the woman perfectly preserved. But the young woman’s remains were completely different than anyone else’s.

  The blue gel like fluid at the base of the unit had a swirling purple color. More than likely from settling blood. From between her slightly parted legs emerged an umbilical cord that floated upwards to the full term infant, curled in a fetal position infused in the gel right above her left thigh.

  Throughout the fluid in the Genesis were speckles of red and white.

  Seeing Miss Coyne caused an emotional and physical reaction in Nora. A wave of sadness blasted her, and physically she dropped to the floor.

  Nora wanted to scream. It was a mix of anger and anguish that swept over her. Stomach knotting and tensing, it took Nora all that she had not to vomit. Instead she cried. Unable to move, unable to go on. Nora stared at the poor young woman, and in an added state of confusion, she sobbed.

  Ten – Countdown

  John found her. In the old cliché, that it was like a train wreck, Nora couldn’t turn from the science fiction Madonna in Genesis Unit Eleven.

  “Come with me,” John said, holding down his hand to Nora. “Jason and Malcolm are helping the ones that survived. I opened the door at the end of the hall. Let’s go explore.”

  Nora used his hand to stand and took one more look at the woman and child.

  “Makes you wonder how long we were in those things.” John said.

  “Yeah it does.”

  “A lot of thought and science went into this project, whatever it is. It’s sad to see it fail so miserably. And it did. People died. They weren’t supposed to.” At the door, John led Nora to the hall, shut off the light in Room eleven and slid the door closed.

  “How are the ones that made it?” Nora asked, walking with John.

  “Confused. I’m not really sure what they remember and what they don’t, I didn’t talk to them much. Here …” John handed her a small LED flashlight. “I got that from storage. It’s pretty dark on the other side of the door.”

  “How far did you go?”

  “I opened it and thought, I’m not doing this alone. I wasn’t scared, mind you. It’s just not something I want to do alone.” They walked further and arrived at the door. John turned on his light.

  “Do you think we’ll find answers?”

  “I want to say yes. But I don’t believe so. Not all. We are going to have to put it together. Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  John pushed on the bar of the door and it squealed as it opened.

  They stepped into complete blackness. John’s light illuminated what looked like another hall, only shorter. After resting the ax in the doorframe to prop it open he moved forward to the next door with Nora.

  “From what I figure,” John said. “We are part of something. I mean physically part of something else. Someone else may be here or is supposed to be. Those monitors are hard wired. The wires lead somewhere.”

  He placed his hands on the horizontal silver bar. “Let’s hope this isn’t locked.”

  It wasn’t.

  He pushed the door open and again was greeted by a blackness. Only this dark carried a stench of dust and old.

  An immediate tickle hit Nora’s throat and she coughed.

  “You’re not scared, are you?”

  “No.” Nora shook her head. “I don’t feel I know enough to be scared. If that makes sense.”

  She coughed again and noticed how it echoed as they crossed the threshold.

  “A big room?” John said. His voiced bounced off the walls. “Stay still.”

  He moved the beam of his light around, it only spotlighted things. Tables, doors, a metal staircase. The steps led to a second floor with a metal railing and more doors.

  “Looks like a prison,” Nora commented.

  “Oddly it does.” John took a step and aimed his light around. “This is the door, there has to be …” He moved to his left. “Yep.”

  “What is it?” Nora asked.

  “Looks like a circuit box.”

  Nora watched him walk to the wall space a few feet from the door. She aided him in shining her lights. John flipped open a metal cover and after an ‘A ha!’ began flipping switches.

  They clicked and shifted as he did and with each breaker he switched on, lights came on.

  “Oh, wow.” Nora said and turned.

  The room was spacious. It held six, eight seat tables, a counter and refrigerator were against the far wall, along with other kitchen items.

  “We found our dining room,” said John.

  Nora noted the rooms. Five on the bottom, five on the top. Positioned on one side of the dining room. No other exit doors. At least not that she could see. The other side of the room was just a wall.

  “They expected u
s all to survive,” John said. “What do you remember, Nora?”

  “Not much. I remember being put in unit and feeling very panicky. I believe I have a husband and children, but I don’t know if it is a dream or real. It doesn’t feel it.”

  “According to that video, you’ll know in two days. Hopefully.”

  “Hopefully.”

  “I think after everyone gets mentally oriented, we should sit down and start talking about what we remember.”

  “Piece it together,” Nora said.

  “Exactly. Pin down the president.”

  “He says he doesn’t remember.”

  “He’s full of shit. “

  “Jason believes him.”

  “Jason is a preacher.”

  “No.” Nora said.

  “Yes. Sounds odd, doesn’t it?” John asked. “I mean, really, one would think if he dedicated his life to God, even if he didn’t remember his life, spiritually he is vested enough to know he has a connection to the big guy.”

  “That’s true. But it makes sense. Jason is very kind. What about Malcolm?”

  “Don’t know. I do know the president is here. This was a government thing.”

  “What if it was a terrorist thing? A kidnapping. Something new.”

  “It’s possible,” John said. “Whatever happened, we were in the same place. All of us. Or at least you and I.”

  “I’m so sorry I don’t remember. Were we talking?”

  “Laughing,” John said. “I don’t remember, but you said something funny.”

  “Really? Where were we?”

  “New York.”

  “But I’m from …” Nora paused. A slight lightheadedness hit her. “Wait. Wait. I was in New York.”

  “You remember.”

  “Not why. I know I was there. I just can’t recall the reason.”

  “It’ll come. Let’s go check out these rooms.”

  Nora agreed. “Do you think its day or night? There are no windows.”

  “It’s afternoon. Mid afternoon. Close to four by now.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The clock at the bottom of the monitor. I looked for a date and saw the time,” John said. “The message played at 3:22 PM.”