The Funny Thing About Memory

Light flashed over my bleary eyes, jarring me awake. I winced away from the source, feeling disoriented. There was a strange vibration underneath me, but I was unable to place what it was. My skull throbbed with pain, making it hard to think clearly. Great skies, my head hurt. And my wrists. And my right thigh. Actually, I pretty much hurt all over. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light.

What was that? I was able to make out a spot of brightness, thrust into my face by an unidentifiable shape behind it. After a moment of staring into it, I realized the light was receding.

I squinted, and was able to make out the shape of what I assumed was a burly man, holding what must have been a flashlight. My ears were ringing, and I thought I heard the man say something, though it sounded muffled and far away. I tried to blink the disorientation away, but it was like trying to hear a whisper with an el train roaring past your window.

El train... this thought sparked a memory in the back of my mind. An apartment with a blue door... a dirty window... a green quilt, edged with navy... I tried to retain the image, but it slipped away, like the memory of a dream. I searched my mind, frustrated at the futility of my attempts.

But I forgot all about this line of thought as I felt a rough hand seize the back of my head by my short hair and plunge it into a bucket of water. I gasped as my face hit its frigid surface, and, despite myself, inhaled some of it.

I came up choking and gasping for air, coughing out the water I had swallowed. I licked my lips, now somewhat lucid. There was something warm and salty on them, and I realized I was bleeding.

"Now, let's try again, shall we?" said a man's smooth voice. It send a shiver down my spine, and somehow I knew it hadn't come from the large man I had seen before. I knew this man. But... how?

I tried to say something, anything to try and make sense of the situation, but all I could muster was a dull moan.

A gruff voice mumbled something, but I could only make out a few words.

Still unconscious... than last time... no state to...

A few more mutterings, a sigh of indignation, and I felt the presences in the room around me shift. Behind me, I heard a lock click and something slide, perhaps a door. Light flooded the room for a moment, and I was able to make out a small, rectangular room, lined with cushioned seats on either sides. There were also windows lining the room, but the curtains were drawn. Then, the door slammed, and I was alone.

A distant sound, shrill and dissonant, pierced my ears, harmonizing to the continuing dull rumble of the room beneath me. Pain flared in my skull, my thoughts tumbling in my mind as I tried to make sense of all that had happened since I woke up. I grasped at them desperately in a feeble attempt to regain some stability, but even the most simple things seemed hard to remember. Things like where I was, how I got there... I realized, after a moment of trying to remember details about myself, that I could not remember my name.

But even in my state of disorientation and confusion, the sound I had heard before broke through my thoughts once again.

Shrill. Piercing. Familiar.

I knew that sound.

I was on a train.

***

9 HOURS EARLIER

Light flashed over Mark's bleary eyes, jarring him awake. He winced away from the source, feeling disoriented. There was a familiar vibration underneath him, the roar of the el train outside his window. He groaned, rolling to plant his face in his pillow. After a moment of pause a hand grabbed his shoulder, rolling him over.

Jess stood over him, hands on her hips. So she had turned on the light. But what was she doing in his room?

Ugh. It's only 7 AM...

7 AM.

Great skies, initiation.

Mark leapt from bed, throwing off the ragged green quilt he called bedding. Jess stepped to the side, a frown of annoyance on her face. She crossed her arms, shifting her hips into a stance that said "you better not make me late, you good-for-nothing greenie." He glanced in the mirror and saw he was still wearing his standard-issued black-and-silver uniform from yesterday. He couldn't quite remember having gone to bed... it had been a long night. He noticed his hair was a mess, as usual. Not that brushing it usually did much good, but he figured the effort had to count for something.

Mark ran his fingers through his hair a couple times, trying to smooth out its wavy brown wildness, but the action only served to disturb it more.

"Hurry it up, greenie! I will tear you limb from limb if we are late to the ceremony."

"Good morning to you, too, Jess," Mark grunted, clumsily lacing up his boots. He glanced over to his roommate's rumpled bed, which was empty. He had left without him. Typical.

Finally Mark hopped up, clapping his hands together.

"Alright, I'm ready to g-" he began, Jess grabbing his arm and hauling him through the door before he could finish. "Woah! Ok, ok," he scoffed. "No need to be so pushy."

She merely scowled harder in response, pulling him through the hallway and into the elevator, though Mark thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward slightly. She was excited, too. In her own Jess way.

Ever since they became part of the first-ever biological advancement program, they had been inseparable. They had both sort of been the black sheep of the program-- she being the daughter of one of the developers and considered by most to have "special privileges" (an assumption she resented and tried very hard to prove wrong), and he being one of only two successful human trial from the first round of testing.

Not like he was the only one who survived. It was nothing that dramatic. There was only one subject out of 53 who died, but Mark was pretty sure he had some sort of pre-existing condition. Something like that, anyway.

The original serum, what most people called "the green serum" because of its oddly vibrant color, was largely unsuccessful. But for some reason, the genetic code seemed to fit with Mark's. A one-in-a-hundred chance. He didn't really understand the science of it, something to do with genomes.

The newer serum, the one all the other recruits had been administered, had much more promising results. Though unfortunately lacking in interesting color (it was a simple clear liquid, though some said it was tinted with silver), it was almost always effective in giving the recipient enhanced mental speed, durability, and strength.

The only difference between Mark and those enhanced by the new serum was that he had the ability to heal at an accelerated rate that they lacked. It was this component of the genetic coding that was harder to structure, teaching the body to regenerate and reform quickly and in any situation. This was also the part of the green serum that made it hard for many people to be compatible with it-- the body often rejected this particular restructuring.

And, of course, he was not nearly as strong or fast as many of his new-serum colleagues. Where the developers removed healing ability, they added new aspects of physical advancement that the green serum hadn't had.

When the elevator reached the bottom, Jess practically dragged Mark to her car and shoved him inside.

"Now, remember. You are not to, under any circumstances, perform any greenie antics that will embarrass me. Do not screw today up for us." She paused, her face scrunching up. "I mean, for me. Obviously you can do whatever you want."

"Sure, got it. No being me," he replied, smirking. So she did care.

"Exactly."

***

A train. Why was I on a train?

No. That was the wrong question to be asking.

The real question was, what do I do now?

It was obvious that whoever had brought me here did not have friendly intentions. So the best course of action would be to try and escape.

I was duct taped heavily to the hard chair I was sitting in, so I wasn't just walking out the door. I twisted my sore hands, which were handcuffed behind me. The metal rubbed against my skin, and I hissed in pain. Strangely enough, other than my constantly chaffed hands, the pain in my body seemed to be receding. My headache had been reduced to a dull throb, and the sharp pain in my thigh-- who knows what had caused it-- was nearly gone entirely.

I strained against them, gritting my teeth against the pain. I felt them give slightly, but they didn't snap. Strange. Handcuffs weren't usually a problem for me.

Wait. You normally couldn't just break out of handcuffs. Right? But I had a very strong feeling that I could.

I tried again, jerking harder this time. But they acted as one would expect handcuffs to behave-- unyielding. I sighed, going limp. What had I expected to happen?

Best case scenario, I was in some sort of hostage situation and had hit my head too hard. But my isolation, and what seemed like brutal interrogation, indicated that I was somehow involved with these people. And that man's voice... I was certain I knew who he was.

Unless, of course, it was the worst case scenario. I was delusional, and either locked up in some mental ward somewhere, or else some sort of crazy person who gets themselves tied to a chair on a train, and then promptly forgets how they got there. You know, as one does.

I tried a different tactic by straining against the duct tape, but my attempts were interrupted by the sound of creaking metal behind me, followed by a loud crack. I froze as light flooded the room, a rush of cold air meeting the back of my neck and making my hairs stand on end.

A shadow fell over me as the click of footsteps approached. I tensed up, preparing for whatever my captors planned to do.

I felt their hands seize my handcuffs, and my wrists protested. I winced, and felt a snap.

Wait. Were they breaking my handcuffs? That isn't possible, I already tried.

But I felt the metal twisting under their fingers, and suddenly, I felt the cuffs slide off my wrists and clink to the floor.

I brought my hands out in front of me, rubbing my wrists. I was still unable to see my liberator as they moved to my side and began slicing at the tape, but I could hear them mutter under their breath.

"I cannot believe I am rescuing you, greenie. After this I am so gonna pulverize you." Though I couldn't quite tell at first, the voice sounded female. And... familiar?

The woman huffed, finally pulling my bonds of in a large strip. As she moved in front of me I caught a glimpse of her face. She was scowling, but in her eyes there was genuine worry. Was that for me? It seemed like she knew who I was. Who was she to me? A friend, a sister?

Oh, skies, did I have girlfriend?

Nah. I didn't have time for a relationship. Not with all my classes, and initiation coming up...

This casual though sent a jolt through me as I suddenly realized I had recovered some important detail about myself. Classes... I a college student, perhaps? But what was initiation?

The woman moved around the chair to face me, hands on her hips.

"Well? Come on, don't just sit there!" she exclaimed. "Time's running out, and we have to stop this train before-"

"I'm sorry," I interrupted, slowly standing up. "But... could you tell me who you are?"

The woman gaped at me.

"Oh, I cannot believe you. You think now is the time to make jokes? You sold us all out, and now my best friend is paying the price. You are going to help me get him back, or die trying. Either that, or I can re-cuff you and leave you to whoever finds you first. Your choice."

"Um... well, I choose freedom, but you're going to have to fill me in on some stuff. Like... do you know who I am?"

"Who you- wait, what?" she fumbled. "Oh, don't tell me you... I mean, I know I hit you with that stapler pretty hard but I didn't think-"

She grimaced, tapping some sort of band on her wrist. "This will only take a second. Scan for injuries." She held it up to me, and I stood stiffly while it hummed softly.

The band emitted a blue light, blinking.

"Multiple injuries sustained," came a robotic voice, making me jump. "Partially healed cut on right thigh. Abrasion and bruising on wrists. Subject has received severe blunt force trauma to the head that is the cause of a severe concussion and amnesia. Assessment: admit to a hospital imme-"

The voice cut off as the woman slapped the wristband, groaning.

"Fine, I'll break it down for you. But later, we have to go now." She grabbed my arm roughly, pulling me out the door into an empty train car. We continued walking through several cars like this until we reached a car that had several seats filled. She pulled me in to one, ducking her head down low.

"We don't have much time, so try not to ask many questions, okay?"

"Okay..." I replied, my heart pounding. I was finally getting some answers, but now I was worried I wouldn't like what I heard.

The woman took a deep breath in.

"Ok, here goes: I'm Jess. Your name is Jason Rould, and you're a dirty traitor. Unfortunately, you're also the only person who can help me save Mark, so I'm stuck with you until I can go back to trying to kill you."

***

1 HOURS EARLIER

Jason Rould was not stupid.

He knew how the government hid their failures with eloquent, shallow apologies. He knew that in order to work your way into their ranks you had to be powerful. And he knew precisely how to exact his revenge on the government program that cost him everything.

It was the program's fault that his brother had not overcome his illness. The serum they had administered to so many people had only worked on two- himself, and his roommate, Mark. Well, Mark wasn't his roommate back then, but when they were both accepted into the training program for genetically enhanced individuals they had been put together by default. The two greenies that weren't total failures. Mark was okay, but he was blissfully and annoyingly ignorant of the program's corruption. At times, he was too good. Plus, he was the only other person with the green serum's genetic complex, and he wasn't about to sell himself to the program's foreign rivals.

At first, he had been thrilled. The first successful test, and his genetic structure was the one that clicked. Not only did this mean the acquisition of incredible skills, but it also meant that his twin brother had a chance at receiving the regenerative properties of the coding if he also received the injection.

He was sick with a new and rare infection, one that broke down the body's cells and caused it to deteriorate from the inside out. It was extremely painful and thus far incurable.

But the serum was supposed to change all that. It should have, would have if the developers hadn't decided to make the serum compatible with more people. If they hadn't altered the coding last minute, removing the healing capabilities, then Jonathan might still be alive.

The serum bonded successfully, but without the component Jon so desperately needed. Jason had begged them to administer the old serum, but the developers claimed that a second dose would have disastrous consequences, ones they couldn't risk.

Couldn't risk the publicity, Jason thought. Well, after today, they'll have all the publicity they can get.

He clicked the lock of his dorm room softly, the turned to survey his unconscious roommate lying on his bed. It had been surprisingly easy to knock him out after he crashed on his bed following initiation. It really hadn't been much, just some crusty old generals making speeches about the next generation of soldiers and presenting certificates to everyone who had completed the grueling training that the program had entailed. It was really just a glorified graduation.

Well, at least someone had been excited about it. Jason glanced back at Mark, flopped on his filthy green blanket, and felt a twinge of guilt.

No, I have to stay focused. Mark will be fine.

Jason plopped down in a desk chair, watching Mark sleep.

I have no idea why he keeps that thing, he thought, regarding Mark's blanket with a sneer. It must have some sentimental value, because that thing should have been burned ages ago.

The distant sound of a train horn disrupted his thoughts, and his head jerked up towards the dirty window. It wasn't his train, though. It wouldn't be coming through for another seven minutes or so.

Best to get prepared, anyhow. He stood up, leaning over by Mark and hauling his unconscious form over his shoulder. Mark was lean and not too terribly tall, so with Jason's added strength he was able to lift him with ease.

He stepped by the window and slid it open, sitting on the edge. Now all he had to do was wait.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Shoot. He hadn't expected Jess to show up so soon.

"Mark?" came her muffled voice. "I know you're in there. Come on, open up, or I'll break down the door," she said cordially. Jason held his breath, and a minute passed.

The train should be five minutes away by now...

"Mark?" Jess called out, worry creeping into her voice. "Okay, here I go. I didn't want to have to do this..."

Splinters of blue wood flew inward as Jess kicked in the door from its center.

"Hey, Mark, what are y-"

She froze as she saw Jason standing with Mark thrown over his shoulder.

Okay. Time to improvise.

"Jess! Oh, thank goodness!"

She eyed him, then looked past him at the open window.

"Jason... why was the door locked? Why didn't you open it?" He saw her hand moving slowly to the side, searching for a weapon. Alright, talking time was over. He dropped Mark behind him, and Jess jerked for the stapler sitting on the desk by the door.

He lunged for her, pulling a syringe from his belt as he did. She threw her arms up to block him, kicking him backwards. He lunged again, lower this time, and grabbed her thigh as he struggled to get a grip on his needle. She hit the back of his head with the stapler, dazing him, but he still managed to stab her with the syringe and inject a heavy tranquilizer. She grabbed his shoulder, continuing to hit him in the face but her arm grew weak and she eventually slumped over.

Jason stood up, swaying. He wiped the blood off his face, trying to clear his head. Foreign scientists and nationalists would be arriving on the hijacked el train in under two minutes to receive and take hostage a rare subject, one that holds the secrets of the green serum's healing formula, and Jason needed to be there to receive his reward.

Except now, Jess had seen him with Mark, and she could certainly put two and two together. Jason would need to leave, now.

He felt the familiar rumble of the train approaching, and he stumbled over to pick Mark up again. Instead of its usual passing roar, the train slowed down as it approached his window, nearly stopping.

It was now or never.

Jason waited until the end car was approaching, then swung his legs out the window and leapt out toward it. His footing was sure, and his jump strong, but he hadn't accounted for Mark's added weight. As he reached for the poles of the back platform of the train, his head slammed against one, and Mark slid off his shoulder and onto the platform. He tumbled backward, but felt a rough hand seize his shoulder and pull him back in.

Then, everything went black.

***

"Um, ok, where are we going again?"

Jess had just finished explaining a number of things I still didn't quite understand, and my mind was reeling. Now, she was briskly walking through car after car with me trailing behind.

"We're heading to the front. All the middle cars are occupied, so that has to be where they are. And they'll be keeping Mark there, too."

"How did they even get him there in the first place, if all the middle cars have people?"

"My guess? He was probably tied up in the back with you until he was conscious enough to walk. Then they can just keep a gun up his spine while they walk up to the more secure car. I bet once they got you up there they were going to unhook the back cars and glide across the border. Once they're out of the country, there's almost no way we can get Mark back."

She turned her head to the side slightly, eying me.

"We're lucky you were passed out as long as you were. Otherwise you might already be across the border."

We walked in silence for a few more cars, which gave me time to think.

"Hey," I began contemplatively.

"Yes?"

"How did you get here in the first place? You said I knocked you out."

She smirked.

"Before I had a car, I rode this line all the time. Add knowledge of the route to knowledge of the city, and you've got yourself someone who can chase down a train in a half hour, no problem."

She smiled again, then paused and sighed.

"And yeah, the train does a really big loop, so it's honestly not that hard to catch if you hit the right station."

"I see." I covered up a laugh with a cough.

Finally, we reached a car that had its door shut, the window behind it ominously dark.

"Shall we?" Jess didn't wait for me to respond before kicking in the door.

Huh. She really likes doing that.

The room was actually well-lit inside. Turns out the window had just been covered or something, because inside there were several tough-looking men sitting around looking bored. At our entrance, they leapt to their feet and reached for various weapons.

Moving in a blur, Jess slapped the gun out of the nearest guard's hand and proceeded to knock out several of the men in ten seconds flat. One lunged at me, and I easily sidestepped, surprised at my reflexes. I stomped on his gun, warping the metal. He tried to get to his feet, but I kicked him in his gut and threw him into the next man trying to attack me.

Great skies, this is weird.

Before I knew what had happened, Jess and I had fought our way through an entire train car of mercenaries and were now standing before the door to the control room.

"Not bad, for a guy who doesn't even know his own name," Jess remarked.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's get this over with."

Jess stood to the side of the door and motioned for me to do the same. Then, in one fluid motion, she grabbed the handle and yanked the door open.

We rushed inside the small space, and I spotted Mark immediately. Aside from the fact that I felt I knew him, he was clearly handcuffed to the rail in the wall, and he had duct tape over his mouth.

When he saw me, his eyes widened. Then, he spotted Jess, and a confused expression took over his face. He made an urgent mmm sound, jerking his head toward the conductor's chair.

Jess put a finger to her lips to signal him to be quiet, but she clutched the handgun she had taken off one of the guards a little tighter.

"Jess, Jason. How delightful of you to join us," came a smooth male voice.

It was the same man from before, I knew.

Jess's eyes widened, her mouth moving but no sound coming out. A man rose from the conductor's chair and turned, hands clasped together.

Finally, Jess was able to get a single word out.

"Dad?"

***

The man cocked his head slightly.

"Are you really surprised? Honestly, I'd hoped you would have figured it out by now."

"What?! Why would you take Mark?" she gasped, incredulous.

"I'm taking Jason, too, remember," he replied cordially.

"But-"

"No! No 'but's," he suddenly growled, scowling.

"Years of research dedicated to a serum that will improve the human body, revolutionize medicine, and what do they do? Take it all away and turn it into a weapon," he said darkly. "Now, I'm taking it all away from them. Let's see what happens when the formula becomes available to the highest bidder."

"Dad, this isn't you," Jess whimpered, voice quavering. "The chemicals are beginning to affect your mind, you're not well!"

"I'm perfectly well, Jessica." Jess winced at her full name.

I glanced over to where Mark was chained to the wall. If Jess could just keep her dad distracted, maybe...

"Don't even think about it," Jess's father scolded. "I'm sorry, but now that you're here, I need to keep you here." He reached for a button on the control board and my eyes widened.

"No!" I screamed as he clicked it and disconnected our car from the one behind. I lunged through the door, grabbing the rail on the outside of the back car. The weight of the train was almost enough to tear me apart, but I held it shakily.

Behind me, I heard shouting and a gunshot. I couldn't turn my head to see what was going on, only focus on keeping the train cars together. I gritted my teeth against the pain, squeezing my eyes shut.

Suddenly I felt the weight decrease, and I opened my eyes to see Mark holding the cars together in front of me. But how had he escaped?

I noticed his right wrist bleeding, and the handcuffs still dangling on his right arm.

Was that the gunshot he had heard? If she had gotten close enough, Jess could have shot off the cuff connecting Mark to the pole.

"Get ready to let go!" screamed a voice. I couldn't tell if it was mark or Jess, but I was relieved when they screamed "now!" and a form jumped across as we let go.

I collapsed into the floor of the train car, watching the control car speed away. I did not see Jess's father.

"What did you do?" I asked her.

"What I had to."

And we left it at that.

***

By the time they released us from the hospital, there was talk of a program-wide shutdown. We three were already being investigated, but in the end, no charges stuck.

I never fully recovered my memory, though I knew enough. In some ways, this was better. A clean slate. In other ways, I missed it.

But that's the funny thing about memory.

You never miss it until it's gone.