Operation:Runaway Train

He woke up with his head throbbing.

​Groaning, he sat up from the armchair and put his head in his hands. The glare of the lighting in the room made the pain in his head worse. He shut his eyes and massaged his temples. His mouth was extremely dry.

​The room was moving slightly. Was he on a train? He couldn’t remember how he got on that train. With an effort grunt, he got up to make his way toward the closed curtains on the far wall. He opened them.

​The scenic landscape outside rushed past him with speed. He was definitely on a train. The outside was covered in a dark silhouette of dusk. With the little light from the sun going down in the horizon, he saw farmlands go past him. Then, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection on the window surface. His locks of hair fell around his face. He had a mustache and was young, around his early thirties. He recognized his reflection. Staring into his dark and translucent reflection of the window glass, he wondered what had happened for him to have wound up here in this strange room aboard this strange train. And who had put him there? Did he manage to get himself drunk and book a room on this train on an impulse? No, it seemed very unlikely. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, and even at social functions, he was careful. Was he kidnapped? That seemed more likely. If that were the case, where was his captor? Why wasn’t he bound and gagged with somebody watching over him so he wouldn’t escape?

​Closing the curtains, he turned his attention to the layout of the room. It was a decent sized bedroom. The armchair where he had woken from was adjacent to the full sized bed. He was looking for a suitcase. His suitcase. He had to have one if he were travelling, unless he really was kidnapped, then there wouldn’t be one. Looking toward the floor and corners of the room where a bag would usually be, he spotted a small carryon beside the desk table closer to the bedroom door. He recognized it as his. That made him feel relieved that this might not be an abduction.

​He approached it with haste. The pounding in his head changed his priority of finding his wallet and train ticket to finding some aspirin. He had to get rid of this headache before he did anything else. Opening the zipper of the bag, he let the lid fall back and scavenged for some aspirin. Yes, he found it! Opening up the cap, he swallowed two, but he needed water. His mouth was too dry to swallow this pills without it. He saw a bottle on the desk table right next to him. He opened it and downed the water in a few gulps. He felt relief from the water and a reassurance that the pain will soon go away. Now, his next mission was to find a train ticket and his wallet.

​First, he patted down his pants and his jacket. Not feeling for one there, he looked through the already opened bag. Nothing. No wallet. No train ticket.

​He just needed to find out how he had gotten there and where he was headed. It had to be his room, right? Wasn’t this his luggage he just went through? Wasn’t that his water he just drank? Although the bedroom felt familiar, he couldn’t remember details. Yes, he remembered this bedroom. Maybe his memories were coming back to him? Right now they were just a feeling. For all he knew this was some temporary memory loss? But how did he lose his memory? Did he fall and hit his head? That would explain the headache, but he felt no bump or soreness anywhere on his head. No traces of dried blood from a head injury were there. He didn’t take drugs or narcotics so he knew it couldn’t be that unless he was deliberately drugged. But who would’ve done that? And why?

​His memory was only from the past few hours. Or days, he wasn’t sure how much of his memory he had lost. But he knew who he was. He knew his age. He knew his name. His name was Gregory Hue. He was the son of the pharmaceutical tycoon-his father-Mr. David Hue, whom started as a pharmacist and opened his own pharmaceutical company forty years ago. Now, it was the third largest pharmaceutical corporation in the world. And Gregory-along with his five older brothers-would inherit and run it after his father retired.

​There was a knock at the door. Gregory Hue jumped back, startled at the sound. “Who is it?” Gregory called out.

​“Sir, sorry to disturb you,” the male voice said. “I am here to let you know that your brothers and your father are waiting for you in the dining room. Do you need assistance in getting there?”

​“My father and my brothers are all here?” Gregory thought, confused. “That’s odd. We never go anywhere together. Whatever this trip is for, this is must be important…I am sure they will remind me what this is all about even if I can’t remember it myself.”

​“Sir?” The male voice from behind the door reminded Gregory that he was still there waiting for an answer.

​“Uh-No, thank you,” replied Gregory. “I do not need assistance finding them. But-remind me where it is again? I will make my way there in a few minutes. I just need to get changed.”

“Certainly,” replied the male voice patiently. “You come out this door. Go left down the narrow hallway. The dining car is the next car after the hallway. Very easy to find, sir.”

​“Thank you,” Gregory said.

​There was silence once more. He heard the man’s soft footsteps fade as he went down the hallway.

​Then, Gregory heard a stern voice whisper by his ear and say,

​“He must tell us what happened! He has to know!”

​“Patience…the answers are coming…”

​The whispers startled Gregory Hue. This was not voices coming from outside the room. These voice were in the room with him. Almost as if it were said right next to him.

​Gregory gasped. He looked around the room and said, “Hello? Hello!”

​No answer.

​Gregory searched the room. He looked behind the curtain. He looked under the bed. He even searched the closet and the bathroom. Nobody. He looked for some sort of device those voices could’ve come from. He looked behind the picture frames, the dresser mirror and under the mattress. There wasn’t any. Then what was that? He opened the bedroom door that led to the outside hallway. It was deserted.

“Jesus, I’m going mad,” he thought.

​He needed to get out of this room. All he wanted were some answers and he wasn’t getting it by staying in this room.

​Following the man’s instructions, he walked toward the dining room car. He didn’t see anybody else in the hallways. The only sound he heard was the gentle hum of the tracks under the train as it sped toward a destination unknown to him.

​Somehow, the hallway he went down did seem familiar. The male’s voice behind the door he could’ve sworn he had heard before. Even the male voice whisper he had heard before shouting near his ear… he had heard before. This was not first time he had woken up on this train.

​He had been there before.

​Gregory made his way into the dining room car. It was elegant, clean, and inviting. Tables with smooth tablecloths and wrapped silverware in cloth napkins lined the dining room on both sides. Smaller tables that could seat two persons were in the middle of the dining room, making two walking aisles on either side. In the far back of the dining room, there were three to four larger, round shaped tables for bigger groups. That is where he spotted his father and his older brothers already seated, sipping their cocktails, and deeply engaged in conversation. They didn’t seem to notice him yet.

​Nobody else was in the dining room except for the seven of them and a bartender behind the bar, who was too busy drying a wine glass with a rag to look up and greet him. The bartender wore a stiff, white collared shirt under his burgundy, buttoned up vest. What he wore matched the ambience of the train and the dining room especially. He matched the burgundy colored tablecloths that lay on every table. He was like another object perfectly suitable for the strange, deserted dining room.

​Gregory passed the focused bartender who didn’t look up as he made his way to the table toward the back where his brothers and father sat.

​They all seemed happier than he remembered. It surprised him how engaged they were with each other. How loosely they communicated! There seemed to be no tension. No hanging resentments or contrite feelings that usually hung so heavily in the air when they were all present. Gregory noticed almost immediately how his father had a pleasant smile on his face and his mannerisms in tuned with wherever the conversation was headed. Gregory had never seen his father so engaged in any conversation because he was always the one talking over everyone else. His eldest brother Jason cracked a joke and they all laughed. “How odd!” Gregory thought. “I don’t remember the last time he made any jokes that anybody found funny!”

​Finally, they saw him approach them. His third oldest brother Rick saw him first. “Hey, he’s awake!” He motioned to the empty chair next to him. “Come sit over here, Greg.”

​“He never calls me Greg anymore,” Gregory thought. “He would only call me some insult. Rick hates me. As a matter of fact, we all hate each other. So what the hell is going on?”

​“Finally, son!” His father said, that big smile still plastered across his lips. “I am glad you could make it before they stopped serving dinner.”

​Gregory sat down in the empty chair next to Rick. “What time is it? As a matter of fact, what day is it?”

​Max, his second oldest brother sitting across the table, laughed. “I can see the party last night took a lot out of you. You were drunk!”

​“Well,” Gregory shrugged, relieved there was an explanation for his headache and amnesia. “That would explain the headache I had when I woke up and this weird amnesia that I have right now.”

​“You have amnesia?” Rick laughed.

​“Yeah,” Gregory looked at Rick sheepishly. “I can’t seem to remember where my wallet is or my train ticket. I have no idea where we are going.”

​“What if he can’t remember what happened?”

​“Just be patient. He will get there…he always does.”

​Gregory heard those whispering voices again next to his ear.

​His brothers were engaged in some other conversation. “D-did you guys hear that? Those whispering voices?”

​His fifth oldest brother Nick, who was busy eating his steak with his mouth open, looked at Gregory suspiciously. “What voices?”

​The rest of his brothers and his dad fell silent and stared at Gregory.

​Gregory didn’t hear the voices anymore and changed the subject. “Oh, nothing! I think I just need to get something in my stomach. How’s that steak, Nick?”

​Nick looked at him and said with his mouth full, “The steak is great. You should try it! It’s your favorite after all.”

​Gregory looked at him with a smile and thought, “This is how Nick used to be when he was a kid. They are all acting like we did when we were kids. Even dad. Dad seems more like his younger self… even though he’s his age… It is like those bad years we went through with all those fights and disagreements about the company never happened.”

​“But what happened?” Gregory thought. “Why can’t I remember what happened?”

​Gregory looked down at his hands. His blood felt cold as he felt his heart stop for a second. Sheer terror froze him in that moment as he stared at his blood stained fingers. Red blood was running down his hands. He wanted to scream but no sound came out as he looked up and saw the faces of his five brothers and his father covered in blood. Their faces twisted in unnatural expressions of shock and horror. Their heads lifelessly resting on the back of their chairs. Their eyes wide and their mouths frozen in silent screams.

​Gregory managed to scream and jumped out of his chair. He looked down at his hands again. They were clean. There was no blood dripping down his hands. No sign that there was any blood there in the first place. He looked at his brothers and his father’s face. Their expressions were not lifeless and paralyzed in a silent terror. They were all looking at him with worried expressions.

​“Are you alright, son?” David, his father asked, reaching for Gregory. “Should I get the doctor on board?”

​“I’m fine father, I’m…a bit tired. Maybe I should go back to my room and lie down,” Gregory suggested. He felt the thumping of his heart in his chest. What he saw was absolutely insane.

​“Maybe that’s what’s happening,” Gregory thought in dismay. “Maybe I am losing my mind!”

​“I’ll have the waiter send some food and drink to your room,” David told Gregory. “I will swing by your room later to check on you.”

​“It’s not going as planned…”

​“He’s cracking…”

​“…Should stop the process…”

​Gregory heard the voices near his ear again. He felt he was slowly going insane.

​“Father, before I go,” Gregory asked. “Where is this train going?”

​Tyson, his fourth oldest brother answered his question. “You don’t know where we are going because it’s a surprise for your birthday tomorrow. This whole trip has been to celebrate your birthday!” Tyson seemed amused by what he just said.

​“My b-birthday?” Gregory asked, confused.

​“Yeah!” Max scoffed. “It was a big idea dad had to get us all to hang out together like we did when we were kids. Just us seven… We know how much you love surprises, so we thought we would do one for your birthday.”

​Gregory let out a small chuckle. He felt a little relief come over him. His heartbeat slowed down. “Yes, I do love surprises! Good surprises, anyway.”

​Jason, the oldest said, “Oh, it’s a good surprise, Greg! One that is well deserved.”

​“You seem to feel a little better,” Gregory’s dad said. “Do you want to just stay here with us?”

​“No,” Gregory admitted. “I feel a little tired and would love to go to my room. I feel exhausted all of a sudden.”

​Saying goodnight, Gregory got up from his chair and made his way slowly toward the exit where he came from earlier. The bartender that matched the tablecloths was still drying a wine glass with a rag. His eyes never left the task at hand when Gregory walked by him. It was as if Gregory wasn’t even there. He thought that was odd but shrugged it off.

​Gregory didn’t hear any chatter or laughter behind him coming from his brother’s and his dad’s table. It was dead silent. He felt like they were all watching him leave. Every single one of their eyes bore in the back of his head. Shaking, he didn’t look back. He was almost afraid to meet their gazes. He was afraid he might see them covered in blood again, or the horrible, lifeless expressions across their terror-struck faces. He just kept walking towards the safety of the hallway that would lead him toward his room.

​After he closed his bedroom door, he felt relieved. Tonight, he didn’t recognize his father or his brothers. They were different people tonight. The way they were speaking amongst themselves felt like it wasn’t them at all! They never got along as well as they were tonight. It was as if they had all decided to start again overnight and forget about all the horrible things they ever did to each other.

​Gregory was also to blame. He was just as guilty as the rest of them when the relationship with his brothers and his father took a sour turn.

​It all had to do with the company. He couldn’t remember what happened, but something changed fairly recently. Did it have to do with why they were now all getting along? Were all the fights and disagreements now water under the bridge?

​And was Gregory losing his mind when things seemed to be going so well for his older brothers and his father?​

There was a knock at the door.

​“Who is it?” Gregory asked.

​“Room service, sir,” the familiar male voice he recognized from earlier said. “May I come in?”

​“Oh, yes,” Gregory said. “Come on in. It’s unlocked.”

​The door opened. It was a young man, wearing the same uniform as the unaware bartender. He seemed no younger than eighteen. And very familiar. He was carrying a heavy tray of food. “May I set this on your desk?” The young man asked.

​Gregory nodded and motioned toward the desk. “Yes, be my guest.”

​The young man slid the heavy tray onto the desk, carefully placing it in the middle. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

​“Yes, actually,” Gregory said. “Can you tell me where this train is going?”

​“Well, sir, it is on its way to Nuevoe.”

​“Where is that, exactly?” Gregory asked.

​“It is a sleepy kind of place,” the young man said. “Your father has connections there.”

​“How do you know about my father?” Gregory asked, curious.

​“He owns this train,” the young man explained.

​Gregory nodded and thanked the young man. The young man left the room and closed the door behind him.

​Gregory now understood why they were the only ones on board the train. His father owned it! Now it all made sense! He had to speak with his father. He needed to know why there was such a change in attitude between them all at the dinner table tonight.

​Gregory approached the dinner tray on top of the desk. He took the dinner plate cover off. It was a steak, some mashed potatoes, and asparagus with homemade bread. His favorite. His father probably ordered steak especially for Gregory knowing that it was his favorite. All for his upcoming birthday, it seemed. But Gregory could’ve sworn his birthday just happened. Although, admittedly, he wasn’t the best at keeping track of birthdays, especially his own. And this amnesia and that horrifying vision in the dining room wasn’t helping him at all.

​There was a knock at the door. “Hey, Greg?” It was his father’s voice. “May I come in?”

​The flashback of his father’s lifeless, bloody face at dinnertime flooded back into Gregory’s mind.

​“Yes, d-dad,” Gregory responded. “It’s unlocked.”

​His dad came in and closed the door behind him. He seemed to be just as chipper as he was when Gregory saw him in the dining room. His dad looked as he always had been but seemed a lot more jovial than Gregory remembered. What had changed is what puzzled Gregory. He was glad his dad chose to come and see him. His dad could give him some much needed answers.

​His dad faced him and motioned toward the armchair where Gregory first found himself when he first woke up. “May I sit?”

​Gregory nodded. “Please do.”

​His father slumped down in the armchair and let out a deep sigh. “Did you eat your dinner yet?”

​Gregory shook his head.

​“Well, don’t let me stop you,” his father insinuated for Gregory to sit and eat his food.

​Gregory felt obliged and did as he was told. Gladly, because he suddenly felt the hunger he must’ve been ignoring since he had left the dining room.

​“How are you feeling?” His father asked as Gregory cut his first piece of steak and put it in his mouth. Gregory nodded his reply. His father continued, “You looked like you had seen a ghost before you left us. I just wanted to make sure you are feeling okay. Are you still up for this trip?”

​Gregory liked his piece of steak. It was delicious. He chewed and swallowed before replying. “I thought I saw something earlier.”

​“What did you see?” His father asked.

​Gregory put another piece of steak in his mouth. “It was nothing, dad. I think I am just overtired.”

​“Well, you have been sleeping a lot, so I don’t think that’s it,” his father said.

​Gregory looked at him, confused, “I have?”

​“Well, I am just saying it is not your lack of sleep that’s the problem,” his father added.

​Gregory swallowed some bread. “Well, then what is it?”

​His father shrugged innocently. “Anger...Frustration maybe?”

​Gregory turned around completely to face his father. “About?”

​His fathered let out a gentle sigh and sat up. “Well, being the youngest, it must be hard for you to accept that you are not the first –or even the first of five-that is set to inherit the most within the company. As a matter of fact, between you, your five older brothers, and my investors, you have been left with merely two percent ownership rights to the company.”

​Gregory felt an old resentment and anger resurface. He let the knife and fork drop noisily on the plate and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin.

​ Gregory didn’t remember it until now, but it wasn’t the first time he had heard this information. Even so, it still set his teeth on edge. He replied angrily, “Then what the hell is this trip for?! To make me feel a little bit less disregarded than I already am? That my own father is leaving me a lot less than his oldest sons and his investors?”

​His father got up and held out his hands as a truce. “Gregory, I didn’t mean to do it this way. I had no choice! Dividing the company up equally just wasn’t an option.”

​Gregory felt his blood boil. His father never told him he would inherit almost nothing. He had to find out for himself. He remembered that now. His father lied to him.

​A flood of memories came back to Gregory. He stood up as if he had forgotten his father was even in the room. He just knew this wasn’t the first time they were having this conversation. Even the steak….the room service…the weird bartender…his memories…they all felt like a déjà vu…had he lived through this before?

​“Father, how come you are telling me this again? You already know that I found out... You already know because…I-I killed you.”

​His father didn’t answer. He stood there and remained motionless as Gregory paced slowly back and forth.

​Gregory was remembering now what had happened the other night. He was remembering it all.

​“We were all called to go and have dinner at your mansion,” Gregory’s voice distant as he recalled the events that happened. “You told us that you had some news to share. I figured you were planning something for me because it was the night of my birthday. I thought for once you might have thought about me before your company and my older brother’s needs…but that wasn’t why you had called us all there that night…you had called us there to tell us that you were retiring and selling a large percentage of your company to your investors! The rest-the smaller percentage of the company-you were dividing amongst your own sons…giving me the smallest percentage.”

​“I told you that I had done everything you wanted me to…far more than my older brothers ever did so that you could see that I was competent…way more competent than any of those other five…and you still left me with the scraps! When I begged you, all you did was dismiss me and told me I would ‘thank you in the long run’!” He looked at his father’s calm face standing in front of him. “You. Laughed. In. My. Face!”

​Gregory looked at his father. “I killed all of you that night. So how are you all still alive?”

​He looked down at his hands. The blood he saw earlier in the dining room all over his hands again. This time he knew it was the blood from his father and his five brothers. “I did it because I was tired of being overlooked,” he whimpered. “I was sad that I had to go above and beyond with everything I did and still get overlooked by you. Those brothers of mine spent their days bullying me, picking on me, and belittling me so they deserved it! I made them feel everything they put me through!”

​He looked at his father with fear, his lips quivering. His father, who stood there motionless, a blank expression on his face. “So, father, please tell me? If I killed you all, how are you still here?”

​Then Gregory heard the low whispers of voices near his ear again.

​“He confessed!”

​“He said he killed them all.”

​“Do we have all we need?”

​“…Death sentence…”

​The voices kept chattering in low voices near his ear

​“…He’s finished…”

​“We got him…”

​“…End it…”

​Gregory looked around the room, spinning faster and faster. “Who is saying that?!”

​“…Enough evidence…”

​“…Do we repeat this?”

​“…Run it once more?”

​Gregory grabbed his head on both sides. The headache pounding in his ears.

​“STOP!!!! STOPPPPP!!!!!”

​

​

​The scientist, the doctor, and the nurse gathered around to make a final decision about how to move forward with the confession.

​The scientist and sleep lab artificial memory expert everyone called Dr. Dyer, was certain that they needed no more recorded confessions within the medically induced, simulated dream state coma.

​“Dr. Dyer,” the nurse near the coma patient said, “I think we should run a couple more medically induced, simulated dream state comas for Operation: Runaway Train just to make sure we got enough evidence to convict this man in court.”

​Dr. Dyer looked at the other doctor for his opinion. “How do you think we should proceed from here? Do you agree with Nurse Rodriguez? Should we put patient Gregory Hue through another medically induced, simulated dream state coma to get more out of him?”

​The doctor looked at Dr. Dyer and thoughtfully toward the patient named Gregory Hue. “Well, his fingerprints were all over the scene of the crime. He did do this. Now we have a confession. We should do a couple more medically induced, simulated dream state comas for Operation: Runaway Train so his mental state can be further evaluated so they know how to convict him.”

​“You mean, if he should be convicted under the means of insanity or sentenced to death?” Dr. Dyer asked.

​“Yes, exactly,” the doctor said. “With this medically induced, simulated dream state coma to put him into a dream simulation where he is made to confess is a breakthrough in technology. I would say that governments all over the world are saving money putting the wrong people in jail, sentencing guilty parties with a chance of parole…now it’s simple! For murder cases especially, there are only two choices: death or the mental health ward. It looks as though he will be sentenced to death…but let’s run him through a few more just in case.”

​“He is living his own kind of hell right now. Isn’t he?” Said Nurse Rodriguez. “And he doesn’t even know it.”

​“I just find it ironic that he killed his father and his brothers to now be subjected to the Nuevoe sleep lab, a company that his father endorsed to help lower the tax payers dollars spent on those put in jail for long sentences. It’s like his father got his justice served already.”

​“Sentencing most guilty prisoners to death has saved a lot on tax dollars spent,” Dr. Dyer added. “Putting them into something more useful, like education and infrastructure.”

​“How many dream state comas has he been through so far?” Nurse Rodriguez asked.

​“He’s been through five so far,” the doctor explained. “And the legal limit is twenty.”

​Dr. Dyer saved the previous dream state coma recording from Gregory Hue’s memory bank before Nurse Rodriguez injected him with more of the dream simulation fluid into his I.V. “It will take under an hour to restart the simulated dream state coma once the I.V. kicks in,” Dr. Dyer said to the doctor and the nurse.​

​“Tell me Dr. Dyer,” asked the doctor. “Since you know this case inside and out from your personal connection with the trial lawyer…do you think that it was unfair for Gregory Hue to only receive two percent ownership over his father’s company?”

​Dr. Dyer was thoughtful as she punched in the last few codes into the sleep simulation machine. It was all ready for the next dream state recording. “I think Gregory Hue thought it was unfair. But what he didn’t know was that his father had secretly put all of his millions of dollars from the stocks he sold within the company and signed it over equally to his sons in his last will and testimony. Each one of his sons were receiving two hundred and fifty million dollars each. With that money, Gregory Hue could’ve opened up another company and then some. But he let his emotions override his ability to reason.”

​The doctor looked at Gregory Hue in pity. “And now he will never have the life he thought he deserved.”

​“He didn’t know how much his father loved him. And that’s even more sad,” Nurse Rodriguez added, looking down at Gregory’s face.

​“You’re right, nurse,” said Dr. Dyer. “And now he will never know.”

​