Rogue Finder

I woke to the wind. It whipped my hair so violently that it stung my cheeks. I spread my arms instinctively and clutched at the metal surface. Judging by the sound and feel of the machine, I was clinging to the top of a train.

I lifted my head slightly, noting the desert land all around me and the storm clouds gathering ahead. I wasn't very confident in my hold on the train as it was, I didn't want to test my luck with rain.

I felt around blindly for something else to grab onto, my heart ramming into my ribs as my hand hit something sharp. I gasped, but chomped down on my lip, refusing to cry out. I wasn't sure how I got up here, afterall, so who was to say I was alone.

I grasped what stabbed me tightly and dragged my body across the roof.

"Don't move," a male voice whispered. "You're about to fall."

My whole body went rigid at the voice that whispered inside my mind. I reluctantly lifted my head to see he was correct. I was about to drag myself off the ledge of the roof, falling off the very end of the train. I sucked in some air as the wind blinded me once more and I had to put my face down. Okay, this was good. If I could climb down, I'd rather be on the metal deck of the train than atop of it.

I lifted my head to peer behind me, and sure enough there was a man lying exactly how I was, clinging to the train for dear life.

"Can you make it to me?" I yelled. He must not have heard me, since he didn't move.

"No need to yell, I can hear the words you think."

I froze, slamming my face back down as the man's head lifted. Why could I hear him in my head? How can he hear the words I think? Telepathy wasn’t possible, was it? I blinked several times, trying to get my bearings. But my mind was blank, besides the hot panic that swept through me at the thought of clinging to the top of a train with a random man reading my thoughts.

“Calm down,” he said gently in my mind.

"Who are you?" I asked, patiently.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

I chewed my lip further, his response not as comforting as I hoped. My stomach plummeted as I realized I couldn't tell him anything. Not who I was, or how we ended up on top of the train instead of in it, and most certainly not where it was headed.

"I don't know," I finally responded. "I don't know anything."

"Obviously."

"How come I couldn't hear your thoughts before." I asked.

"Your thoughts woke me up, the first thing I thought was 'don't move.' Then your thoughts went haywire, so I stayed quiet, hoping you'd give away any sort of hint of how we ended up here."

"Sorry to disappoint," I replied bitterly.

"I'm going to try coming to you," he warned, before I heard the steel squeak against the man's bare hands.

I stiffened when I felt him make contact with my ankle.

"Sorry didn't mean to frighten you," he said.

I rolled my eyes, letting him take my hand, so we could both peak over the edge of the boxcar.

"I can go down first," he volunteered.

"No way, I'm lighter than you, so it'll be easier for you to lower me,” I protested. Now that I was able to get a good look at him. He was just under six foot with a stocky build.

"You sure?"

"Yes." I fought an eye roll, since he could see my face and gave him back my hand. He helped me slide the rest of the way forward. I scooted my body sideways so I could go down feet first.

His grip on me tightened as he took my other hand and I hung suspended, with my feet planted on the boxcar.

"You're very calm," he pointed out as he lowered me slowly.

"You have to drop me," I said, but his grip only tightened even more. I had a sense I knew why. The moment I had thought those words I was flooded with the thick sensation of deja vu.

"It's okay," I reassured, looking into his piercing green eyes. His short black hair whipped in the wind of the train as he released my hands. I landed on my haucheds on the deck of the boxcar.

"Okay, I'll spot you." I held out my arms to him. He gave me a tight lipped, crooked grin. He leapt down with ease, landing a little less gracefully than me, wobbling on his feet, since he didn't bend his knees with the landing.

He straightened, meeting my gaze once more. It was quieter down here.

"Hi," he said aloud, testing his voice. He cleared his throat. “I wish I could tell you my name, but I don't know it."

"Me either," I shrugged, looking past him into the train. "It's empty." I pointed, directing his gaze behind us. He looked back at me, then to the metal deck we stood on.

"This isn't a boxcar train," he said, turning toward the door and sliding it open. "I've never seen a train like this." He led us inside to the empty cabin. It was a fully furnished train with brand new seats, shining tables, and plush carpets. There were huge windows accompanying every duo of seats.

"Maybe you just don't remember trains like this." I shrugged.

"No, we were on top of a boxcar, y'know, like trains that are made just to haul stuff."

"I know what a boxcar train is," I complained, crossing my arms. After a beat of silence I met his gaze, but he was just smiling at me.

"What?" I asked, uncrossing my arms and chewing my lower lip. His grin widened.

"I don't know, you just seem wildly familiar."

I was being far ruder to him than I would be to a person I didn't know. He did seem familiar. Or I at least felt this odd sense of comfort with him. I took a step back from him, to really take in what he was wearing. Shiny black shoes, black pressed dress slacks, and a white button down dress shirt. I looked down at myself and found I was wearing the same thing, but my button up was untucked and seemed too big for me, as if I was wearing a man’s shirt.

“We’re wearing the same thing?” I pointed out, remembering to speak out loud. I could still hear his thoughts speaking under my own, which meant he could still hear mine.

“So, we probably know each other,” he suggested.I huffed and started pacing the aisle. I wanted so badly to remember anything. What I had for breakfast would even suffice. I spotted a door to a bathroom and slipped into the tiny room, glaring at the mirror.

My dark brown hair hung in a low sloppy bun, and my muddy brown eyes shone with determination. I have never seen this face before. I couldn’t even recognize my own face. The bathroom door slid open behind me, and his face appeared next to mine in the mirror.

Seeing our faces side to side, I felt the ghost of a whisper against my cheek, I could almost hear a mumble of words. I squeezed my eyes shut to hold onto the memory but as soon as I was in darkness the memory fled.

“Dammit.” I kicked the wall, looking down at my black flats.

“Come on, let’s keep looking around,” he suggested. I followed him out of the bathroom and into the next cabin. He had been right before, we had been on top of a boxcar, so why were we inside a passenger train?

We wandered down the train, slipping through train car after train car, until we reached the last one. They were all identical and all void of passengers. The tiny window at the end of the train car showed us the desert, no compartment for the driver.

“This is not a real train,” he muttered, as we turned around to walk the train again. I froze in my tracks, my pulse thudding against my temple as my brain tried to work out that sentence. This is not a real train. I kept walking once I saw that he was still going on without me.

I knew he was right. My memory had been wiped, but not my knowledge of things. This wasn’t a real train. My thoughts were interrupted as I slammed into the man’s back. I grunted and took a few steps back.

“What?” I asked as I noticed the tension in his shoulders. I peered around him and saw another man in a full tuxedo, watching us from the next train car. He had pale skin and wore a fedora.

“I killed him,” my man whispered. I looked from the tuxedo and at my man’s face. Sweat was starting to gather on his forehead, slipping down his jaw.

“You killed him,” I echoed, feeling comfort in those words. Killing is what we do. The man with green eyes met my gaze, I tried to focus on him and not the million thoughts running through both our minds.

“Killing is what we do,” he agreed out loud. I lifted my hand carefully, touching his black hair with my finger tips.

“I was supposed to kill you,” I whispered. His eyes searched mine, but he didn’t argue.

“And why didn’t you?”

“Because you’re not the bad guy.” I brushed past him, to confront the dead man, but he was gone. I gritted my teeth and pressed on, seeing if he left anything behind. My man followed me cautiously.

I kept walking as the rain began pelting off the roof of the train. I didn't hesitate as the train seemed to bump along the track. I was jolted to the side causing the lights to wink out. I straightened myself, but found I was standing in a hallway.

The floors were chrome, the walls white, and the harsh floursents made everything seem too bright. I looked behind me to question my companion, but he was no longer with me. I turned back around, looking down at myself, seeing I was wearing a full fitted pants suit with combat boots. I had a gun strapped to my waist and a knife in my boot. A name badge dangled from my lapel.

My name was Ava Gomez and I was an agent for Rogue Finders. The fluorescents sizzled out and I was back on the train, wearing the waiter’s uniform, the man beside me with his hand on my arm.

“My name is Ava,” I informed him. He scowled at me.

“I’m some sort of agent for a place called Rogue Finders,” I told him. The lights flickered on the train once more as thunder boomed above us so loud it rattled the windows.

“You remembered?” he asked, seeming disappointed that he hadn’t.

“I saw the place I worked at. It was sterile and bright,” I explained.

“How’d you remember?” he asked as the train rattled. He took a step closer to me as the shaking intensified, but the train showed no signs of slowing. The storm raged on, the sky black and the rain pelting the train so hard it was hard to focus.

I shook my head. “I have no idea, but I think it’s too soon for me to be remembering anything.”

“What are you talking about?” He took a step away from me. I shook my head, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t know, I just get the sense that this isn't real. Like you said, this train doesn’t make sense and we’re seeing dead people.”

“So what are you suggesting, Ava?” My name sounded sweet coming off of his lips. I shrugged.

“Well, what does Rogue Finders sound like to you?” I asked, crossing my arms.He didn't answer me right away and I tried to ignore his thoughts.

“It sounds like you hunt down rogue agents. So am I, like, your co-worker?”

“I hope so, or else that would make you a rogue agent that I was supposed to hunt down.” I said as the train jolted once more, knocking us away from one another. The man slumped into a seat, while I smacked into the backrest and fell onto the aisle. I bit my tongue on the way down and tasted copper in my mouth. I grunt as I shifted into a sitting position. It appeared the man had lost consciousness, but his eyes were still open. I froze, listening for his thoughts, but didn’t hear anything. Is he remembering? Was this how I looked when I was walking down the ominous hall?

The lights flickered one more as more thunder rumbled and the man blinked several times.

"My name is Benji. I was your target, but I am not rogue," he informed me, sitting up in the seat. I finally picked myself up off the floor, standing to my full height. I believed him. We were wearing similar clothes and I appeared to be wearing his shirt. He may have started out as my target, but we weren't trapped on this hell train for no reason.

"So who do you think took our memories and put us here?" I asked, he met my gaze. "My agency or yours?"

"More importantly, why can we hear each other's thoughts?" he asked in my head. I narrowed my eyes at him. That was a very good question.

"Because none of this is real," I told Benji quite confidently as someone from behind me slid a knife across my throat.

I woke up to wind whipping my hair into my face.