After Search

The lights were flashing. Blinking bright like a pulse as it begins to race in fear. My fear. My hands move to hold my head. I am surprised to find them restrained. Banded to whatever table I have found myself on. A heavy sigh escapes, my mind races as I scan the room around me in search of some clue about where I could be. My head shrieks in answer, pain like a sawblade cuts through all thought. Tears stream down my cheeks, pattering the table as I fight the pain.

Fight the pain and think! Sudden flashes fill my mind's eye, my fingernails ripping as I tear the bands off my wrists. An image of reaching to a locked door. I could feel the way the metal handle crumbles in my hands as I crush it. I lift my head, looking down across the bands holding me to the table. My hands are still bound, nails intact. But as I stretch out my fingers I can feel something new in them. A tightness, as if they were rubber bands. Ready to snap.

The sound of footprints approaching breaks my concentration. I can already see the faces of the men coming. Hidden behind masks, but my unease grows. I have no memory of them. My thoughts flash to their masks bloody in my hands. I can feel my heart racing, matching the flicker of the lights above me. My head turned to find anything to help but find nothing near. As I hear them mumbling behind the door my head rises once more.

I watch my hands, as they tear through the straps holding my arms down. The pain hardly registers as two of my nails come off, caught on the hard canvas straps. The blood seems an unreasonable color of red. Dripping softly as my hands break the bonds on my chest and ankles. I can no longer hear the men outside the door, only the fresh blaring alarm. They must have seen me remove the restraints.

Its klaxon call pushes me frantically forward. Mind racing, I search the nearest table for some kind of weapon. There were none save a singular scalpel. It feels comfortable in my hand, but my head screams in agony as I try to place the feeling. As I turn to the door, I remember thinking about how I had seen the handle crumpled like foil under my hands. Opening to the passageway ahead. I reach for the handle feeling the lock still engaged. Squeezing my hand around the grip I see the knob begin to bend into my grip. Pulling with it the mechanism of the lock. The sound of the alarm is louder in the hallway. Letting go of the door as it swings open I let the sound wash over me. I try to think of what must be the way in, but no memory comes. The hall stretches out before me, white tiles gleaming in the bright lights.

Walking forwards a thought occurs, the door at the end of the tunnel was going to open for me. I had only made it halfway down the hall, but I could see the door now, it's surface matched the tile walls. If I hadn't been paying attention, I wouldn't have noticed the dark doorknob to one side. Stopping in the hall, I wonder, how did I know it would open? Surely it was wishful thinking. But the flash of, memory, came again. Walking further, the siren stops, I hear the sound of a struggle beyond. Yelling, dull cracks, and thumping, coming from the other side of the door. The door shakes and opens, a single gloved hand taking mine.

"What the fuck is going on?" I yell. My voice sounds harsh and strange, unfamiliar to my ears. I wipe the fresh tears from my cheeks, turning back to the room from which I came. The only door out is ahead of me, so I continue on. Every attempt to think of how I got here brings only pain. I wonder if anyone is looking for me, but cannot picture a single face. Even my own face is a fuzzy frame of pink, featureless. I have got to get out of here, I tell myself. Everything will make sense and be fine, just so long as I can get out that door safely. I feel the scalpel in my hand, thin and light, but sharp.

The door is an arms-length away when the alarm suddenly stops. The absence of the blaring noise is unsettling. It felt as if it had been going forever, it's silence created a fresh bloom of fear in my stomach. I could now hear through the door, sounds of struggling, and arms fire. Without thinking I turned from the door, covering my head with my arms. The door shook to the sound of a loud bang from the other side, tiles cracking. Lifting up my head I saw the door begin to slowly swing inward towards me.

I tightened my grip on the scalpel as I stepped closer, moving to peer into the darkness behind. I was not surprised to see a black-gloved hand reach for me. Beckoning me closer. My only thought was safety, that hand meant safety. The glove was warm as I took it and walked into the black beyond.

"I have you." The voice whispered softly into my ear, my eyes watered as I finally knew a face. He barked orders away from me now, "Roundup and return to base. We have it." I could not see him in the darkness, but my mind showed me a face in dim lights. A bedroom, as he removed what must be night goggles. His hard-set jaw frowned at me, but his eyes looked on with sadness. I wondered where I knew him from. His grip on my hand loosened, as he pulled up to my elbow. I ran to keep up, tripping on the ground on sights I could not see.

I screamed when the lights flashed on. The light was blinding and white. I could hear the man yelling angrily. "Na seall air ais!" I tried blinking away the brightness, trying to see what was happening around me. I turned towards him, seeing his grasp on my arm loosen as he turned towards something. I thought about the men I had seen coming to me in the room with the table. I was already turning towards them as I remembered seeing their masks in my hands.

They were right behind me. Staring down at me with black eyes too large for their faces. The air around them had stilled as if we were alone in a bubble. They and I. The sounds of the man came to me, muffled and indistinct. He seemed so far away. The men chittered at me, not speaking so much as attempting to lull me to sleep with white noise. I could see the scalpel cutting across their faces before it happened. As if I was following a wishful imagining instead of what felt like a memory.

The blade was swift and had already slashed across them when I felt my body moving to stab into the neck of the tallest. He lurched forward to grab me as I stepped aside. Punching the scalpel into the side of his neck. I grabbed his face, pushing him away as he fell heavily onto the floor. The other one whipped his face towards me as I turned back to him. The cut over his face had not been as bad, a hiss escaped him as he grabbed for me. Hands like claws grasped my arm and hair. I could see his mouth now, through the cut in the mask, knifelike teeth chittering together in anger.

"Wrong hand," I said, stabbing blindly towards his chest. I could feel the blade scraping bone as it ripped through his flesh. He threw me away from him as I tried to shove it further in with my palm. My breath rushed out of me as I landed on the floor. I struggled to breathe again as I saw him fight the scalpel, now slick with blood. His eyes huge and black, bulging in what can only be fear. The sounds around me began to feel closer, I turned to find the man in the goggles reaching down for me. I took his hand and followed him out the door. Listening to the angry chittering behind fade as we ran through the doors to the outside world.

As we ran out through the door I saw the sun was rising before us. The rich glow felt alien but welcoming. The man led me to a row of black SUVs, opening the door. My thoughts tumbled together as I started to enter. "NO! This one isn't safe." I cry, backing out into him. His goggled face nods to me, silent but understanding.

"We take number three then. Safe?" He points towards it as we begin walking towards it. The third one from the end, I know it takes me to the bedroom, to safety. As I nod quickly he begins to run. We close the door as it starts to drive away.

"Morgan, why am I going to a bedroom?" I ask. His grip on my hand tightens, as he turns and shakes his head at me.

"We cannot speak until we are in the base." He turns away from me then, removing some of the heavy looking gear he had been wearing. By the time the SUV begins to slow, he is only wearing a simple dark t-shirt over his black pants and boots. Except for the mask and goggles that still cover his face. He opens the door before we stop, pulling me by my hand out with him. The SUV never stops, it just speeds back into the empty street. Morgan pulls me along behind him, towards a large steel door. I can already see the stairs beyond that we will climb into the base.

My mind traces our path, steps ahead of us as we pass rows of doors. The sounds of whispers and whirring of computers surrounding us, like a beehive. I find myself reaching towards the correct door before him. I can see him stiffen as he reaches around to unlock the door and let me in. We made it. The same bedroom from when I first saw him. Nothing about the room is special. Only a single bed with old but clean looking bedding, a single desk, and chair, a small dresser. No windows, no phone, or plugs anywhere. As I lower myself onto the bed I begin to feel the aches in my body.

The sounds of him taking the mask off make me turn. I watch, again, as he undoes the clasps and sets it down on the desk in front of him. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns back to me, leaning back onto the desk. His eyes give me his sad look as he sighs.

"What can you remember?"

"Nothing, except waking up tied to a bed and all that came after. To now. And ... I don't know, things that are about to happen. Things that will happen." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly unsure of whether I can trust him. "I don't even know how I know your name."

"I am about to tell you, my name is Morgan. That should cause the memory. We have been looking to free you for a long time. YOu are not the first. Do you know your name?"

I open my mouth to reply smartly but only gasp. The pain in my head explodes as I try to think of my own name. I feel his arms on my shoulder, shaking me as I start to scream. "I don't know. I don't know." It is a sob now. I let him move my legs up so that I am lying on the bed. The pain begins to fade as he strokes my hair. I turn towards him as it subsides.

"Aisling. Your name is Aisling."

I close my eyes and let the sound of it wash over me. It feels right but I can feel an empty echo inside me. A missing past life yawning open. I begin to nod in agreement as I sense his face nearer to my own. Opening my eyes, I see him leaning close to me. His eyes bronze in the shadow, his mouth no longer angry but sensual. I could already see the future happening, as he cupped my head with his hand. My pulse quickened despite myself at the visions dancing in my head.

"We never got this. You have been gone too long Aisling. Will it still count as our first if you know what's about to happen?" He asked, slipping a band onto my finger. His eyes meet mine, tears welling in them. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into my lips. He meets my mouth, brushing across like butterfly wings. Then pulling away to come again harder, with need. I could feel his hand stroking my hair, holding up my head. The other hand was running down my hip. I could feel the heat stirring inside me, and I knew.

"Does it matter?"