“The Pirates are back,” Kay explained, “It’s said they can travel the continent quickly using funnels of sand. I don’t know if I really believe that, though.”
“You mean you don’t know how they work? I thought this was their Outpost; shouldn’t you know this?”
“It is their Outpost, but they’re very secretive. Nobody knows their true motives or how they work, but as long as it benefits us I don’t really care to know.”
I stared at him in shock. “Kay…where’s your sense of adventure? How could you not be intrigued?”
He once again shrugged at me. “I’d rather concentrate on the women in town than worry about a few Pirates’ doings.”
I rolled my eyes and huffed angrily; this was not the Kay I knew and loved. We continued on in silence for a while but my eyes concentrated on the slowly closing gap in the Outpost’s defenses. “Do they always return at the same spot?”
“Generally, yeah. Always the south but the actual location varies a bit. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
We continued on towards the medical tent as the small crew of Pirates drew near. Kay and I had to squeeze ourselves through multiple crowds and by the time we reached the front, the Pirates were already in the Outpost. We froze as they walked past and I stared at them in surprise. They wore long tunics of earthen tones with a splash of colour from a shirt underneath. They all had a blaze of blue tattooed across their face; some in sharp lines, others in triangular shapes; no two tattoos appeared to be the same. There were four of them altogether; three trim looking men and a tall, muscular woman. They paid no attention to us for the most part but as the woman passed me by she glanced at me briefly; her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and she peeled a stray blonde strand of hair from her face as she did so. She turned her attention away almost as quickly as she had looked. It was a subtle glance; I don’t think anyone else noticed it but it was a sight I had never forgotten; the entire group appeared strong and confident and I found myself inspired by their presence. Once they were a sufficient length away Kay continued to lead me towards my new home.
“…and here we are.” He stood in front of the slit of the tent and leaned casually against a metal pole that held it aloft. “I’d be happy to join you if you want a little company.”
My skin crawled at his insinuation. Just how many women did he pull this on, exactly, and why did he think I would fall for it? I rolled my eyes in an exaggerated way, ensuring he saw full well my reaction. “I’m pretty sure I’ll pass.” I said finally.
“Your loss.” He didn’t even say goodbye as he headed back into the heart of the Outpost; likely towards another group of women somewhere.
My stomach knotted up at the idea and my emotions ran all over the place. Ponika, at least, seemed genuinely happy to see me and I embraced him as Kay’s figure disappeared into the town. “I found my dad out here too, Ponika.” I sighed into his mane. “He’s much the same as Kay. I don’t know what exactly happened out here but I think I know how to fix it. Are you up for another adventure, my boy?” I scratched behind his ear as I spoke to him gently and gave him a few pats on his back before withdrawing inside the tent.
I’ve only been sitting here for a few minutes but I’ve already got a plan in mind. I know what I have to do; I’ll go to the Facility myself and get their memories back if it’s the last thing I do.
PART TWO
CHAPTER 1
I can’t believe what I just read. Is this really me? I want to question it but at the same time I can’t; I can feel my memories flooding back and my name is written all over the inside pages of this worn journal. It all sounded like a story at first but with each page turned my head started to burn fiercer and fiercer until what sounded once like fantasy became a reality. This is me; this entire book is me.
I threw the journal down on the bed before me and I looked around my room, hoping to jar forth more memories but everything felt cold and foreign. The room I was in was metallic and icy to the touch. The room was also incredibly small; it was hard to turn around without hitting something. My bed was embedded in a niche in the wall and there was a calendar on the wall above it; the dates and months meant little to me, however, as we rarely used a calendar to tell days and time back home. I recognized the word ‘December’ from all the Christmas books I’ve read but much of the rest was pure gibberish to me. There was a small dresser near my bed with an empty picture frame upon it and photos on the wall of many smiling people I did not recognize. There appeared to be very little personal belongings of mine in here, but this journal…somehow it survived. I had seen it poking out just slightly from underneath my mattress; whatever happened here, it looks like I tried to hide my journal from…something. Thankfully, it worked. I don’t remember how I got here or what happened but I gathered from my journal that I must be at the Facility my father had spoken about. Something must have happened to me and I was going to get to the bottom of it.
I left my room through a door that slid open automatically as I approached and I found myself in a massive area that must have once been a warehouse. There was a small set of stairs at either end of the facility that led to a large, sprawling landing that made up the roof of my bedroom and the many other rooms beside it. Directly ahead of me was another monstrous room, one that I assumed was some kind of foyer. There were doors on the opposite side of it; huge, towering pieces of metal that reached to the very tip of the ceiling.
“That must be the entrance that my father was talking about. No wonder they couldn’t figure it out.”
I wasn’t ready to leave just yet, though. I glanced around me and noticed a few of the bedrooms’ doors were open. Sneaking a peek inside, I noticed the same photographs and knick-knacks that my own room had.
“Hmm…every room seems to be the same.”
I continued on, taking furtive glances inside the rooms as I past them. Nearing the stairs, a man appeared from inside his bedroom, wandering in a zig-zag fashion and grasping at the bandage that was wrapped around his head. I called out to him.
“Excuse me, sir; do you know what’s going on here?”
It took him a moment to process my question before shaking his head. “I don’t know much of anything.” I watched him as he paced the same route over and over again, twitching his head and mumbling incoherently to himself.
I could not see this ending well. “Uh…thank you anyway.” I scampered away as the man started counting his fingers in a frantic manner.
I started to head towards the stairs when I saw a young, red-haired man sitting on a bed in one of the rooms nearby. “Hey, excuse me…do you know where we are?” I poked my head inside the room.
“I don’t know.” He sobbed out the words and suddenly gripped his head in his hands. “I don’t know!” he yelled his repeated words and rocked back and forth on his bed. I backed up in surprise and turned my attention to the stairs; I didn’t think anyone here would be of much help.
The stairs were few and clinked loudly as I bounded up them, the sound echoing throughout the hall. I had hoped that there would be more rooms to investigate upstairs but surprisingly there was only one opening, found near the centre of the back wall. The landing was vast and empty otherwise and made of a dark blue grating which exposed some of the rooms below. With no other options I made my way towards the lone room whose sliding, metallic door lay open for the most part; only a slight piece of the door escaped its slit in the wall. The door opened up to a corridor of stairs leading up to yet another open room. I heard movement somewhere up the stairs and a faint voice inside; a soft, almost friendly voice. Could this be the scientist? In any case, I hoped to at least find some answers. With a hand on the cold railing at my side I made my way up the stairs, my feet clinking loudly in the otherwise silent facility. As I got closer to the large room I could see glowing vials stored on shelves along the opposite wall; it illuminated the place in a greenish hue. Reaching the top of the stairs I felt a sudden déjà vu from the bottles on
the wall; they were so very familiar to me. There was a long chair in the middle of the room with a large piece of machinery above it that ended in a needle tip. An attractive man in a white coat was meticulously cleaning the chair, occasionally stopping to brush the blond tufts of hair out of his face. He didn’t see me at first, even though I was sure my footsteps echoed quite loudly. He was transfixed on a spot on the chair, scraping and rubbing it with his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. I kept walking inside, my eyes glossing over the hundreds of vials that were now all around me. I was almost able to reach out and touch the metallic object ahead when the man with sharp features finally glanced up at me.
“Oh, hello there. I wasn’t expecting you to be up so soon; what can I do for you?” I was still gazing at the walls covered in vials with dancing liquids inside. “Ah, my Memory Vials. They can be a bit mesmerizing, can’t they?” He removed the blue latex gloves he was wearing and tossed them down on the chair as he watched me.
I could see him briefly from the corner of my eyes. It was definitely Tsvetan; a little older, of course, but you could hardly tell. This was the man from the video…just what the hell happened to him? And to me, for that matter?
With his cleaning supplies set aside, he started to walk towards me. “You should probably go back to your room though sweetheart; don’t want to risk ruining everything.”
“What did you do to me?” His movement brought me back to reality and I glowered at him.
He widened his eyes and his mouth hung slightly open at my cold response. Then he laughed. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so coherent already. I did nothing, my dear; just go back to your room.” He reached his hand out towards me and I leapt back from his touch.
“I know you erased my memories, Krastanov; tell me how.” I pursed my lips and stared him down, studying his body language.
He stared with a blank expression for a moment before casting his gaze downwards and sighing. “Ah…so it must have failed, then. How much do you remember?”
“Everything.” I spat the words at him. “Tell me how you did this.”
Krastanov nodded and smiled sweetly. “How? Well, you’re the first to ever ask about my process; how exciting!” He giggled and made his way next to the large machine that hung above the metallic chair, pointing towards the needle. “This looks more intimidating than it really is,” he smiled at me with bright, perfect teeth, “it merely needs to be near the brain in order to extract the thoughts; it’s completely painless, although if a client becomes jittery then the extraction can get too close and scorch the skin…poor Walter downstairs got jumpy. But nothing I can’t fix!”
Krastanov then pointed to a slot near the top of the machine. “I put an empty vial here and the machine fills it up. Then I escort the client to a recovery room for a few weeks, as you can get a bit dizzy afterwards and the process is susceptible to early rectification if exposed to familiar sights and sounds.”
“Recovery?” I asked. “A few weeks recovery for a slight dizzy spell? I thought you said it was painless? Just what exactly are we recovering from?” I wasn’t sure I trusted his words; he seemed far too friendly for a mad scientist.
“Well, the process takes time to cement itself. Any familiar item shortly after the procedure can bring all those memories back and make the process moot; I assume that’s what happened with you. I try very hard to make the rooms as generic as possible but I suppose no one is perfect.” Krastanov shrugged and started to fiddle with the height of the chair. “Well, come on over and we can restart the process; I’ll double-check the rooms before I escort you out this time.”
I gasped. “Why would I want to do that?!”
The scientist furrowed his brow. “Well…because you wanted me to?” He frowned. “You asked me to do this when you arrived.”
“Asked for it?!” I yelled, clenching my fists. “I would never ask for such a thing.”
He tittered. “I guess you don’t remember everything then, huh?” He waved me over as he walked towards the wall on our right. “Not to worry; I have your vial right here.” Krastanov pointed to a green bottle that swirled violently on the second shelf from the floor. “That one; it should have your name on it.”
I was hesitant to follow, afraid to take my eyes off of him. Glancing down quickly, however, I noticed golden letters that spelled my name atop the container of swirling green. I was hit hard with a sudden flashback – my mother! This is what she had! My heart raced when I noticed the empty spot beside my Memory Vial; could that have been Samantha’s? There were multiple bottles around this space and while they were much calmer in their viscosity, it was their names that drew me away from my confusing thoughts. I saw the two that interested me: Kay Thomes and Chester Morgansen. Dr. Krastanov caught me looking at them, although not for the reasons he might have imagined.
“It’s all history,” he said with a proud air, “I keep everyone’s memories here; you never know when they might come in handy. There are quite a few interesting figures stored about.” I bent down and cradled my own vial in my hands, glancing at the others as I tried to plan my next move. “Hold it firmly, my dear, and you’ll see everything I removed.” He put his hands below mine and adjusted the vial to sit more comfortably in my palms. “Now, you won’t be able to get them back in your head this way but you can watch what you once knew. Look…” he motioned to the bottle as the green liquid inside shifted and started to form the figures of the two men that were constantly on my mind. “Think of what I told you; about coming here. Your vial will show it if it is something that actually happened. Listen closely and you’ll know.”
I shut my eyes and forced the men from my thoughts, focusing instead on Dr. Krastanov’s words. When I opened my eyes once again the metallic hallways of the Facility had materialized in the liquid before me. I saw myself in the swirling mist, walking on the grated landing with Tsvetan as we made our way towards the lone doorway. This time it was locked, however, but Dr. Krastanov pushed a small button hidden in the wall beside the door and it opened in seconds, jarring slightly as the door became stuck at the last moment.
“It does that sometimes,” The Tsvetan in the bottle had said to me. “Nothing to worry about though.” That same, toothy grin as we walked upwards in silence. I saw myself hesitate when the large chair came into view, clutching the bottom of my shirt and swallowing hard.
“I didn’t lie, my dear; it doesn’t hurt. Come,” Dr. Krastanov had walked over to the chair and reduced its height for me, watching me with his bright eyes and beckoning me towards him. The vial’s vision of me had looked around the room momentarily before making my way to the scientist but I had stared at the chair before me, tugging at my belt and wringing my hands. Tsvetan had laid a hand upon my back and whispered softly to me; so softly that I could not hear his words through the vial.
“I had said that it would be a simple procedure,” the real Dr. Krastanov answered, “but that you could back out at any time if you weren’t comfortable with it.” I scrutinized his face as he spoke, unsure if he was really telling me the truth.
Turning my attention back to the vial I saw that I was now on the chair, my legs shaking ever so slightly as I continued to ball up my fists and twitch my fingers nervously. Dr. Krastanov positioned the machine above me and then asked, “Now, are you sure? You cannot get these memories back. Are you ready to forget your past and forge a new future?”
My figure in the mist nodded at him from its spot on the chair. “My life would be better if I forget all this heartache.” I murmured the words, the sadness in my voice palpable.
Dr. Krastanov nodded. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart; don’t you worry. Everyone who stumbles upon my lab decides the same thing you do; that forgetting is better.” The scientist booted up the machine and it hummed loudly, vibrating the chair ever so slightly as my body rocked with its movement. “The wasteland has taken much from us…but it won’t take everything.” The image of me in the vial nodded and swallowed hard as Ts
vetan started to lower the machine. I turned my gaze away and I put the vial back, not wanting to see any more.
“You see?” Dr. Krastanov said gently. “I know there are rumours that I force this upon people but I don’t; I provide a service for injured hearts and broken spirits. People do not have to participate if they don’t want to and you asked me to help…so I did.” He placed a comforting arm around my shoulder. “This must be a lot to take in, hmm? I will give you all the time you need; continue to watch your vial if you feel you need to and if you would like to redo the process then just let me know. I’m here to help in any way I can; just let me know what you decide.” He patted me on the shoulder and slowly wandered back to the chair, snapping his gloves on and preparing to clean once again.
I stood in stupefied silence for a while before finally blurting, “What happened to you, Tsvetan?”
He stiffened. “How do you know my name?”
“Multiple ways.” I fingered a few of the vials, their touch surprisingly warm but their liquid remained still inside. “I found a book of yours in the desert, for starters.”
“Of mine?” His eyes widened in surprise. “What kind of book?”
“Biology, I think. There were many pictures of the brain but I don’t know the language.”
“Ah, that must have been my Latin textbook on mental health; I wondered where it went. I was studying it, you see.”
Something just didn’t add up to me. “Studying it? Why would you be studying mental health if you do this from the goodness of your heart? That sort of seems like a weird thing to decide to pick up one day.”
Deserted Page 15
