The Escape Series Collection E-Book

Sandra J. Jackson

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

All three books in Sandra J. Jackson's 'Escape Series', a series for post-apocalyptic science fiction novels, now in one volume!
Playing in The Rain: When the effects of a hypnosis inducing drug begin to fade, April is introduced to a sister she didn't know she had. The more she learns about her environment, the more she wants to escape. Confused as to their whereabouts, the sound of rain, a sound they haven’t heard in a long time, interrupts their conversation and eventually lulls them to sleep. They are together, but where? Only a small window offers them a view of the world... and a glimmer of hope for freedom.
Catching Butterflies: With some memories returning, April and Beth struggle to find answers to their questions. What happened to their family, and to the rest of the world? An empty building only brings more mystery into their lives and soon, April and Beth discover that there are others as well. For April, finding her family is priority one; for Beth, it's sticking to the trails. But why are they being hunted?
Dancing In The Wind: April has returned to the place where her nightmare began. Trapped in the building, she not only has to deal with the upcoming winter, but also the indistinguishable whispers in her head hold her captive. For April, remembering is reliving the events in her life every day - good and bad. When she discovers the source of the voice in her head, she turns to her parents for a solution. But someone else also knows about the secrets trapped in April’s head, and they have a plan of their own. But who will get to them first?

Leseprobe

THE ESCAPE SERIES COLLECTION

THE COMPLETE SERIES

SANDRA J. JACKSON

Copyright (C) 2022 Sandra J. Jackson

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

CONTENTS

Playing In The Rain

Catching Butterflies

Dancing in the Wind

About the Author

PLAYING IN THE RAIN

THE ESCAPE SERIES BOOK 1

For my siblings

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to my family for putting up with my long hours and disappearance to my office. Especially to my husband who made meals without complaint when I couldn't tear myself away.

Thanks to Myron Stenzel who gave me the suggestion of Cecil when I was looking for the name for my evil character.

Thank you to Sandra Kenny-Veech for being a great first-time beta reader and for taking my new bio pics (Another Perspective Photography).

Thank you to Next Chapter; I look forward to this new publishing journey.

PROLOGUE

I tilted my head back to look at the cloud-filled sky. Large, grey puffs danced and swirled overhead.

A drop of water landed on my nose. I brought my head forward and wiped up the bead with my finger before it had a chance to spill down my face.

I stared at the liquid; a smile pulled at the corners of my lips, stretching them until my eyes crinkled. Another droplet landed on the top of my head, cool and wet. It trickled down the part in my hair, leaving behind a trail of tingling skin. I reached up with my other hand and scratched it away.

Laughing voices caught my attention and for a moment pulled me away from the dripping sky.

The sound of a whisper filled my ears and interrupted my dream. My eyelids fluttered open. The streetlight outside lit my room and shadows danced across my ceiling. My heart skipped as they moved closer.

I turned my head and opened my mouth. Before any sound could escape a hand clamped it shut and my eyes filled with darkness. I struggled against the weight on my arms as my legs tried to kick free from under the blankets. A harsh ripping sound halted my efforts. For a second my mouth was freed; I called out, but my cries were muffled by a large piece of tape. My arm jerked as a sharp point pierced the skin of my shoulder.

My muscles eased and relaxed and my movements slowed. The pressure on my arms abated. I willed them to move and strike out at the nearest object, but they lay still at my sides. The skin on my cheeks and lips stretched upward as the tape used to seal my mouth came free.

I yelled, but the sound I heard came from inside my own head, my voice had been silenced. The blindfold was tugged away; the dim light returned.

Black shadows loomed in front of me, devoid of form or shape – blurred, dark blobs moved in the night. My eyelids slammed shut.

“Move them out!” A voice bellowed. And then there was nothing.

ONE

STERILE

I woke to the bright and unpleasant buzz of the overhead lights. The sterile, white room glowed with such intensity it was almost blinding.

It happened every morning, first the click, then the hum. My eyelids flew open as though a power button inside my head was flicked to the 'on' position. My arm rose to cover my face and shield me from the bright lights. It had been that way for as long as I remembered which seemed both a long time and only a few days.

I rolled over onto my right side, and my eyes darted between three sliding doors on the wall parallel to my bed. The first, located directly across from my resting head, was the entry. The door I passed through twice a day, once when I left the room and then again when I came back.

My gaze skimmed a little further to the left. In the middle of the wall was the much smaller opening of the dumbwaiter. I favoured that door as each whoosh signaled a meal or snack.

I tucked my chin a little and looked over toward the third opening at the far end of the wall. My focus drifted toward the white surveillance camera with its ever-watchful red eye. For the moment, it pointed directly at my bed, silent and still. Yet, once I rose it would awaken and begin its daily routine of stalking me around my room. I resisted the urge to wave and returned my attention to the laundry chute. It wasn't as big as the entry but certainly larger than the dumbwaiter. Large enough, in fact, I believed it could hold two small or even average sized people. Who would try? The thought made my skin prickle.

All three doors remained closed and silent, but soon the daily procedures would begin. The sound of sliding doors would replace the irritating hum of the overhead lights.

I flung back my pale sheet, my eyes skimmed over my green nightgown, and I sat up. The whirring of the camera drowned out the buzzing lights, and it caught my attention. It was only in those first few minutes of the day that the sounds of the room were grating. Soon the noises would disappear into the background. Only recalled at night when they finally quieted.

A thought suddenly came to mind and erased my irritation. I was getting a surprise today.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rested my feet on the white tile floor. Soothing warmth radiated through my body and tempted me to lie down on the hard surface.

The first whoosh of the day interrupted my thoughts. The door of the dumbwaiter had opened; my breakfast had arrived. Small gurgles deep inside my stomach rolled through my gut. It finally concluded with a loud, inhuman grumble as the smell of bacon wafted through the room.

I rushed toward the small compartment behind my table and pulled out the covered tray. I breathed in the delicious smell. My free hand curled into a tight fist at my side as a distant and unclear memory flashed in front of me. I placed the tray on the table, exhaled, and uncurled my hand. Morning procedures had to be followed.

I hurried toward the fourth door in my room which led to the washroom. It was unlike the others and made no sound when pulled open. It sat centred on the end wall closest to the head of my bed. The only thing that gave the door away was the small, clear glass knob that stuck out from the bleached wall.

The light turned on the instant I pushed open the door. The small bathroom was as clean and white as the rest of my room. I stepped further in and jumped when the door clicked closed behind me.

I sat down on the toilet seat and emptied my bladder. The sound echoed in the small room, and I couldn't help but wonder if anyone heard. Hurry up! I told myself. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my thighs and held my head in my hands.

The toilet flushed on its own. The water drained with such force that tiny drops sprayed up onto the seat. I didn't bother to wipe it away; the room would clean itself.

The soap dispenser whined and spat out a foamy liquid that was as free of colour and scent as everything else. I moved my hands under the tap and activated the warm water. Tiny bubbles squeezed out between my fingers and covered the backs of my hands. The white froth swirled around before it gurgled down the drain. The distant whisper of some strange tune peeked out from the shadows in my mind. My eyes squeezed shut, and I worked at remembering the lyrics. As a word was about to form, the water turned off signaling the end of my hand washing.

My eyelids fluttered open, and my heart skipped as I caught my reflection in the mirror. I stared at myself for a second. My straight, light brown hair rested on the top of my shoulders, freshly cut from the day before. The light blinked in warning, a reminder my time in the bathroom was over. I would have to examine myself closer the next time.

I pushed the button on the wall and pulled the door open. The alarm buzzed; the five-second countdown had begun. I stepped over the threshold, and the door closed behind me. An audible hissing sound came to my ears as scalding hot steam filled the small room. The hissing stirred a distant voice; it whispered from somewhere deep inside my head. Garbled and incomprehensible words bounced and echoed in my skull. Sick was all I understood.

Intrusive beeping pulled me away from the door and my thoughts as I headed back over to my table. I only had three minutes left to finish my breakfast.

The smell of bacon saturated the air around me the second I removed the lid from my tray. Three pieces of crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and home fries covered the plastic plate. My tongue swept across my lips, and I stared at the colourful arrangement of food in front of me. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to revel in its taste, but that didn't concern me. The meal would repeat itself in so many days.

With breakfast over, I sealed the dishes back inside the dumbwaiter. The whining camera pricked my ears as it followed me across the room.

My plain white dresser sat in the corner, wedged between the end wall and the head of my bed. I pulled open the top drawer and removed a white paper robe wrapped in plastic and placed it on top. I stripped the sheets from my bed, scooped them up in my arms, and retrieved the neatly packaged robe.

I glanced up at the surveillance system as I crossed the room on a diagonal towards it and the laundry chute. The only good thing was I would soon disappear from its view. The camera was unable to see me in the corner when I stood underneath it.

I pressed a button, and the door to the laundry chute slid open. I piled the sheets inside, the plastic package dangled from my teeth, and I pulled my nightgown over my head. My hair stood on end; static electricity crackled. I removed my underwear and tossed all my nightclothes onto the pile. I tore open the plastic package and pulled on the paper robe. Before I closed the door, I threw the packaging in with the laundry.

My feet took me the few steps along the wall and over toward my table where I sat down and waited. I stared at the dimmed red light above the entrance. Within seconds of sitting down, the light glowed, and the door slid open.

He stepped through the entrance covered from top to bottom in white as he pushed his cart into the room in front of him. The only part of him that showed was his brown eyes peeking out from the holes in the hooded mask. Over the mask he wore goggles. I called him he, but I wasn't sure. The baggy suit gave no sign of curves or bumps of any kind.

My paper robe crinkled as I brought my right arm forward and rested it on the table. I bent my left arm and placed it in front of me. He pushed his little cart against the table and stood on the other side. My attention focused on his white-gloved hands as he prepared two injections.

Another syringe, already prepared, sat on the cart. I recalled seeing it before but was unsure of its use. I narrowed my gaze as I stared at the mystery needle. A memory flashed of a gloved hand picking up the syringe, followed by a stinging prick, and then darkness. I shuddered and small bumps rose on my arms. I had received that injection. It was the consequence should you find the strength to resist.

One of his rubber gloved hands held my arm as the other wiped a small gauze pad against my shoulder. The cold dampness caused more bumps to rise. My nose wrinkled at the strong smell. His rubbery fingers compressed the skin on my shoulder. The silver point of the needle pierced my flesh. He pushed down on the plunger. I concentrated on feeling the clear liquid as it entered my body, but it was not possible. When he finished, he pulled it free and placed the gauze pad back on my arm. He repeated the process with the second needle. Once again, I focused on the liquid and much like the first time, I felt nothing. When he pulled the needle out, he dabbed at the small point of red blood that had bubbled to the surface.

“Any idea what my surprise is?” I whispered. My voice sounded foreign to my ears. Why?

He stopped dabbing for a split second as though my speaking had caught him off guard, and then he resumed his work. He placed a small bandage on my shoulder, cleaned up his tray, and hurried from the room. The sliding doors closed behind him.

“I didn't think so,” I whispered to the sterile room.

The overhead light flashed its warning. I groaned. “I know,” I said between clenched teeth as I stood up and shoved my chair back. Its felt-covered feet slid over the floor. I moved toward the washroom; my paper robe rustled with every step. The back of my head burned with the sensation of watching eyes.

I wadded the paper robe into a ball and placed it inside the plastic tube that hung between the sink and the toilet. Within seconds it disappeared, sucked out of sight with a loud pop.

The small shower stall stood in the corner opposite the toilet. The glass door slid open as I stepped toward it. Once inside, warm water gushed out, and I closed my eyes, revelling in the relaxing spray. I only had a minute or two to enjoy it as the soothing warmth would end soon.

I washed my hair with creamy, unscented liquid, squeezed out from the dispenser on the wall. Below that was the dispenser for the body wash. Yet, another colourless and odourless gel that oozed into my hand.

The bathroom light flashed, warning me my shower would be over in seconds. I stepped toward the door and when it opened the water turned off. The mat's rubber bristles tickled my feet as I stepped down on them. Warm air shot out from the wall behind me, from the ceiling, and from the mat on the floor.

I turned a slow circle; rivulets of water ran down my body and evaporated. I combed my fingers through my hair and worked out some of the tangles that had formed while washing. I bent over; the warm air blew my hair around in wild fashion. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and stared at my feet instead. Soon the light would flicker and my time in the blowers would be over.

I pulled open the medicine cabinet. Inside were many plastic wrapped toothbrushes and one-use packets of toothpaste. I selected one of each and closed the door. The toothbrush was like everything else in the room – white and temporary. I ripped it from its cocoon of clear plastic and covered it with every bit of paste from the packet. The bristles massaged over my gums and teeth, removing all traces of food and bacteria. When finished, I held everything up to the tube and watched as it was sucked out of existence.

I stared into the mirror and combed out my hair with my fingers. I leaned close, almost touching it with my nose, and looked into my blue eyes.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

TWO

SURPRISE

Inside the middle drawer of my dresser were several packages containing a white bra and a pair of plain underwear. I chose a set and pulled it out. The plastic wrap crinkled. The camera droned behind me, its mechanical noise louder than usual. Why had I gotten rid of my robe? The thought caused my stomach to knot.

My question was rhetorical; I knew the answer. It's what I'd always done. But for some strange reason, being naked suddenly bothered me. If it weren't for the warning, I would have still been in the washroom trying to think of a way to cover myself. I pulled on my underclothes and breathed easier as my body relaxed.

I yanked the bottom drawer open with too much force. It slid out with ease, but my quick reflexes stopped it before it freed itself from the rails and landed on my feet. I pulled the remaining green dress from inside and pushed the drawer closed.

My dresses were the only things I had that weren't encased in plastic. I ran my hands over the soft fabric and carefully unfolded the dress. It was plain, short-sleeved, and came to below my knees. Three buttons closed it at the front and elastic cinched it in at the waist. Two large pockets adorned the skirt.

The red eye followed my every step toward the laundry chute, but I kept my gaze focused in front of me. When I reached the opening, I pressed the button nearby and the door slid open with a faint, airy sound. My eyes widened.

A white envelope sat on top of the packaged clean linens. I leaned into the compartment to get a better look. I reached out my hand but hesitated for a second; my heart had picked up speed. I concentrated on the lettering. A20100315L was penned with care in black ink on the front. That's me! I smiled at the sudden realization.

I reached out, grabbed the envelope, and stuffed it down the front of my dress. I closed my eyes for a second and slowed my breath. The action calmed my nervous excitement, and I grabbed the packaged linens.

My thoughts raced as I moved back toward my bed and started unpacking the sterile sheets. The envelope rumpled and poked into my chest while I made my bed. Each movement reminded me of its existence.

It took every effort not to reach inside my dress and pull it out. The poking annoyed me, and it was getting difficult to contain my building curiosity. Still, it would have to wait until I began my studies. My body would block the intruding surveillance system behind me, and I could read the note in safety.

My desk sat at the foot of my bed. It was a plain white table with one small drawer for writing tools and a bit of paper. Textbooks and other reading material sat on a shelf mounted above it. It was in this corner of the room, across from the intruding camera, that I studied whatever textbook happened to be on the shelf.

The padded white desk chair rolled with ease as I took my seat. I pulled out my black textbook with its silver lettering from the overhead shelf. The camera whined behind me as I moved. The back of my hand slid across my forehead, smearing away tiny beads of sweat. My stomach muscles ached from tension and made me a little queasy. The sensations were strange. While a part of me feared I'd contracted some illness another part assured me my feelings were normal.

I opened the textbook to where I'd left off. I removed the envelope from inside my dress, held the damp packet in my hands, and stared at my ID. I had no doubt it was mine, though A2 was my usual name.

What is this? I turned it over and laid it flat on the pages of the open book. My fingers eased out the flap tucked inside the envelope. I reached in and pulled out the note. With great stealth, I slid the envelope underneath the textbook. My shaky hands unfolded the piece of paper and rubbed out the creases. Written in black ink was the same neat handwriting.

A2,

It was addressed to me.

I am sorry I did not answer your question. Your voice caught me off guard. I was not expecting it to return so soon.

I reread the first line as I recognized who the author was. What did he mean by my voice returning? I returned to the note.

It is imperative you never speak while facing the video equipment.

Had I? I recalled the moment I'd asked him my question and was sure I'd faced away from the equipment. I squinted. Why? I looked at the letter and kept reading.

I will see you later. If you must speak keep your back turned to the camera. When I speak to you, I will keep my head lowered and continue with my work. DO NOT react to anything I say.

J.

I stared at the letter, lost in the writings penned by its creator. A sudden whooshing from behind entered my ears and startled me. I was no longer alone.

I stuffed the letter into the pages at the back of the book and pretended to study.

“Hello, A2! Busy with your studies?”

His voice was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. I eased around in my chair. He stood behind me a few feet away, his hands on his hips. My lips parted a little, and I nodded. Was it okay if I nodded? My heart thumped. What if I wasn't supposed to acknowledge anyone?

A thin red smile came across his face, and my heart slowed. My head nodding hadn't surprised him. He stepped closer; his clothing made no sound. He didn't wear one of those baggy white suits that swished with movement. His clothing, though as white as the baggy suits, were more fitted. Only his thick, white hair covered his head, and he wore nothing over his eyes. Even his hands were gloveless.

His grey eyes darted around before he finally fixed his gaze on my face again. There was something about him that made me feel like I'd known him for a long time. It was much longer than what my memory suggested. He was someone you didn't forget.

“Do you know who I am?” He tilted his head back a little and from my desk, I could see up his long, pointed nose.

I nodded, though I recognized him, his name and who he was, did not come to mind.

“Good!” He nodded and took another step closer. The surveillance system hummed, and my heart quickened. Beads of sweat trickled down the small of my back. The back of my throat tickled, as my nose caught some strange scent. I resisted the urge to lean forward and sniff, but there was no doubt the strong perfume came from him. It wasn't entirely unpleasant only too much, although there was something familiar about it.

“Let's see how your studies are progressing.” He moved beside me and peered over my shoulder at the textbook on my desk. “Ah, history.”

I nodded again. I was sure my heart had climbed up my throat and was about to pop out of my mouth.

“Let's see.” He pushed me and my chair out of his way, and I bumped into the foot of my bed. He reached over with his long, bony fingers and flipped over to the next page.

I swallowed the thickened spit in my mouth; my eyes fixed on his every move.

“I'm a little bit of a history buff myself. Well… truth be told,” he turned his attention away from the book and looked at me, “I'm pretty much a buff at everything.” He chuckled for a second before a crooked grin took its place. “You and I have a lot in common. Well, I must go. Nice talking at you.” He turned on his heel and headed back toward the door.

For the first time, I noticed someone by the entrance, dressed in full white-blob mode. He stood back from the door, and when it slid open, he followed the white-haired man out the exit.

I exhaled a huge breath, resisting the urge to fan the air with my hand. My shoulders dropped in relief, and my heart crept back into place. I returned to my textbook, grabbed the note and envelope, and stuffed them down the front of my dress.

Why had he come into my room? I flipped the page of my text and pretended to read. Confusing thoughts filled my head. I couldn't concentrate on my work, but I couldn't stop either. I had to keep pretending until study time was over.

I grabbed my yellow highlighter and picked a few sentences. Their importance was of no concern to me. I hadn't read a single word on the page. I flipped another page, mindless in my actions. My eyes stared at the words, but I saw nothing. The urge, to leave my desk grew stronger. The strict regimen held me in place.

Instant relief came in the form of a ringing bell, and all the muscles in my body relaxed as the tension eased. I closed my eyes and exhaled through pursed lips. The unmistakable sound of the dumbwaiter filled my ears, and I turned around. I had never looked so forward to my break.

I hesitated before I reached in and pulled the small tray from the compartment. My thoughts drifted to earlier events, and for a moment, the procedure was forgotten. I placed the tray on the table and pulled the lid free.

The moment the buzzing reached my ears my stomach dropped. I had made a mistake. It was all I had time to think before the flash of blue light.

I picked myself up off the floor; my legs shook under my weight. I managed to climb into my chair, folded my arms on the top of the table, and I rested my head. The smell of singed hair was in my nose. I inhaled and filled my lungs several times before rising on shaky legs and made my way over to the washroom.

The red apple stared up at me from the tray as the bathroom door clicked closed behind me. I had no appetite but couldn't afford to face any more consequences if I didn't eat. My feet dragged me back toward the table.

Was his visit my surprise? I bit into the sweet red orb as I remembered. Some surprise! I bit again, but my teeth sunk in too far, and I ended up with a mouthful of seeds. I spat them out on the plate and wiped the spittle from my chin with the back of my hand. Where am I? I stopped mid-chew. What is this place?

I didn't hear him enter. I stared wide-eyed at his baggy white figure. For a moment, his brown eyes stared back at me as he stood in the entrance. I finally broke contact with his gaze and looked at the chair he held as he walked into the room.

He stood across from where I sat. “Remember, do not respond as I speak to you,” a voice floated from behind the mask. It was soft, yet deep with an unfamiliar accent, and it was most certainly male.

He set the chair down by the table, and we went about our business as though the other weren't in the room. I wiped the juice from my chin and took another bite from my apple.

My ears pricked to the sound of the door; J had left the room. What kind of a surprise is another chair? I stared at the other chair, an exact copy of my own.

The door alerted me again, and J came back in with a bed he rolled across the floor.

“Do not follow me with your eyes,” he warned as he pushed the bed past me. The click of the locks on the wheels rang in my ears. I wanted to turn around to see what he was doing, but I didn't.

J came into view again and left the room. Minutes passed. I finished my apple and placed the remnants on the plate with the seeds I'd spat out earlier. I replaced the lid on the tray and pushed the whole thing into the waiting dumbwaiter.

As soon as I stood up from the table, the door slid open.

“Keep going about your business,” J said.

I peeked out the corner of my eye and saw two figures enter the room. The first was J's unmistakable white blob. The second was much shorter, and from my glimpse, was dressed in blue. I entered the washroom.

I could not rinse the soap from my hands soon enough. It was hard not to hurry. I wanted to see who had entered my room with J, but the memory of the smell of singed hair kept me from leaving too soon.

Finally, the water shut off. I dried my hands, and I was free to leave. I stepped toward the door and pulled it open.

A girl sat on a bed at the far end of the room. Like me, she had shoulder-length, brown hair, though hers was wavier and darker.

The alarm sounded, and I hurried out from the washroom. The door clicked behind me.

The girl looked to be younger, but not by much. J stood at the head of her bed in the back corner underneath the video equipment.

My lips parted.

“Do not speak,” he reminded.

My pink tongue poked through and I licked them instead. I moved back toward my desk as though I were alone.

“So she's my surprise?” I said with my back to the girl, J, and the prying camera.

“Yes.”

“Hmph! What kind of surprise is that?”

“She is your sister.”

THREE

C.E.C.I.L

It took every ounce of self-control not to push myself away from my desk and whirl around to face them. I would have if I hadn't become lightheaded. I wiped my hand over my forehead; my skin was cold and damp, and my mouth watered. My stomach tensed, and I gripped the edge of my desk. I focused my attention on my fingers as they grew as white as the room around me.

“I don't have a sister,” I whispered through clenched teeth. I exhaled a slow breath.

“I understand your disbelief, but trust me, you do.”

Trust you? I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “Why don't I remember? Why doesn't she say anything?” I released my grip from the desk, and the colour returned to my aching knuckles. I flipped a page of my text. My ears pricked up at the sound of the camera. The thought of picking up my book and launching it at the intrusive piece of equipment crossed my mind. Instead, I flipped another page, not caring it was too soon.

“She is in somewhat of a hypnotic state, a trance, if you will. She has muscle control and fine motor movements. She can follow directions and procedures. She can process information and learn, but she is mute with no memory of any life in the past – she just exists. Much like you did until recently.”

My eyelids fluttered. What is he talking about? “I don't understand.”

J sighed. “I know.”

I jumped a little at the sound of his voice as he stood behind me. I hadn't even heard him approach.

“I am going to introduce you now – merely a formality,” he said. “Remember, they are watching.” He placed his ungloved hand on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch radiated down my arm; the sensation was strange.

“Wait!” I stopped him before he turned me around. “Why are you introducing us?”

“It was Cecil's idea. He does not know you are becoming aware, so he does not think the two of you becoming roommates will be a problem.”

Questions filled my head, and I didn't know which to ask first. In the end, there were so many they overwhelmed me, and I didn't ask a single one. He turned me around, the camera hummed, and I was silenced.

The girl sat on her bed. Her focus was straight ahead on the wall in front of her. J pushed me toward her in my desk chair and placed me in her line of vision – our knees almost touched. I stared at the girl, but she didn't see me, only looked right through me instead.

J moved beside me, his back to the camera. “Remember do not react in any way. They think you are still in a hypno-state.” The sound of the ever-watchful eye came from behind him, but I couldn't see it. J's body had blocked it from my view.

“I think they know,” I said in my best ventriloquist voice. I kept my focus on the girl in front of me.

“W-why do you say that?” J's voice faltered and gave away his shock at my words.

“Because before you came, I had a visitor, and I nodded when he asked me a question.” I studied the girl's features. They did look a little familiar.

“Who?”

The intensity in J's voice made me jump, and my concentration on the girl's face broke. I closed my eyes and pictured the man in my room. His white hair was the first thing that came to mind. “White hair,” I whispered.

J sucked in a large gulp of air. I turned my head and looked at him. His brown eyes had narrowed in a thoughtful way. “It is fine you nodded to him. His voice would be the only one to elicit that sort of response. I overheard once it had something to do with a song. Anyway, he would expect that.”

A song? I questioned for a moment and in the same instant forgot about it. My body relaxed, surprising me. I didn't think I had been holding any tension.

A loud buzz filled the air. I stood up from my chair and pushed it back toward the desk. My body reacted before my brain even registered the reason for the alarm. I cleaned up my desk and put my book away. The note and envelope poked at the skin between my breasts as I moved.

“What do I do with your note?” I said as I feigned straightening and cleaning.

“Put it back in the laundry chute. I will retrieve it.”

Without even thinking, my feet transported me from my desk and back toward my dresser. My body continued following procedures as much as my brain tried to resist. The video camera whined behind me, but it wasn't its eye I sensed on the back of my head. I pulled open the bottom drawer and removed the package of gym clothes. “Who is he? The white-haired man?” My hands tore at the plastic.

“He is Cecil. He runs this centre.”

I stopped for a moment, the vision of the word C.E.C.I.L flashed in front of my eyes. “It's on the wall.” My hands freed the green t-shirt and shorts from their confines.

“It is the name of this place. At least it is now.” The last bit he said more under his breath as though speaking a thought out loud.

Another alarm buzzed, interrupting our conversation. I turned around, and for the first time since entering my room, the girl in blue had climbed off her bed. J guided her toward the desk, and she sat down. The laundry chute door slid open, and J moved toward it.

“You better put your gym clothes on,” he said as he reached inside the chute and pulled out a box.

I turned away from him and unbuttoned my dress. I pulled it over my head and laid it out on my bed. My eyes caught sight of the note and envelope peeking out from my bra. I tugged my t-shirt over my head, reached inside, and smoothed out the papers the best I could. Satisfied they would not be visible, I pulled on my shorts.

“What is C.E.C.I.L?” I thought of the word engraved into the wall as I straightened out my dress on my bed.

“Contagion Eradication Centre for Intelligent Life.”

I stood up straight, abandoning my dress. My confusion cleared. “It's both his name and this place?”

“Hmph. It is. We must leave now.”

My back stiffened. Something in his tone told me there was much more to it than that. “What do I do with her?” I reached out and smoothed another wrinkle from my dress.

“Nothing.” J's voice was flat.

I turned and followed J toward the door. It slid open; we walked out and left the girl behind.

FOUR

B20130623L

The door opened with its usual airy sound. I entered my room and pulled at my t-shirt, glued to me with sweat, and stepped into the washroom. The mirror on the wall captured my attention. I stared at my flushed and sweat soaked face. My hair hung in limp strands, damp and tangled.

I pulled my wet shirt over my head. The smell of perspiration caused my nose to wrinkle. My shorts and underwear clung to my legs as I worked at sliding them down. When I'd finally stepped out of them, I stood back up. My reflection showed the dampened papers sticking out from my bra. I unhooked it and let it all fall to the floor in a heap with the rest of the wet clothing. My shower would be brief as it was almost time for lunch. My stomach rumbled at the thought.

Feeling fresh and dry, I picked up my clothing and the note from the floor and opened the door. The warning bell followed me out of the room.

The sight of her sitting at my desk surprised me. I had almost forgotten about my new roommate. It was difficult trying to keep my focus in front of me as I crossed the room. I wanted to watch the new girl.

I hesitated before depositing my clothes and the note into the laundry chute. My damp clothing had been my only protection, and now I had nothing. I drew in a sharp breath as I stood in the far corner of the room under the ever-watchful eye. Naked - I gasped. How had I ever done this before? The thought came to me again.

I took a deep breath and walked toward my dresser, all the while I told myself to act as though clothed. I hadn't cared before, I thought, as my hands pulled a packaged set of underwear from the drawer. But before, I hadn't quite been myself, though I wasn't sure if I was now. It was like waking up from a dream, in that state where you aren't asleep but aren't awake either. I was stuck somewhere in the middle.

I sighed as I pulled on my dress and sat on my bed. I stared at the dumbwaiter and waited for the door to open. When it came seconds later, I stood and traipsed to my chair. The girl walked to the washroom and entered.

The first tray in the compartment was labeled B20130623L. It was her tray. Do they call her B2? I placed the tray on the table. A moment later the dumbwaiter opened again. I reached in and pulled out a tray labelled with my ID.

The girl, B2 I'd decided, returned to the table and took her seat across from me. I stared at her and her blank eyes for a moment. Did I look like that? Did my eyes look as though they saw nothing? A shiver ran through my body as I wondered about my previous trance-like state. I pulled my lid from my tray and began to eat.

B2 finished her meal before me and placed her empty tray back in the dumbwaiter. Did she even taste her food? I looked down at the few bites still on my plate and devoured them. I was suddenly afraid to arouse suspicious if I didn't behave like B2.

For days I followed B2's lead, acting as she did, but it was getting difficult with each passing moment. I was growing tired of the act, tired of the procedures, and tired of B2. The expression “bored to death” popped into my head like so many other things. I wasn't sure if it was based on truth. If it wasn't, I was close to actually being boredom's first victim.

During the day, flashes of moments from the past flickered in my mind like bits of a hazy dream. Some things I understood, while others were out of reach, and I couldn't grasp their meaning.

J had begun backing off on the memory blocking/hypnotizing drug on B2 on the first day she'd moved in. But, the process was slow. I'd learned it had taken almost three months for the effects to begin reversing on me. I was still a long way from being normal.

Restless sleep filled my nights. Strange dreams invaded the peace I had grown accustomed to. There was nothing that made sense and as the weeks passed even B2's blank gaze began haunting my dreams.

B2 and I sat at the table and waited for J to arrive. She gazed with her usual blank expression as I stared up at the light above the door. As it turned out, it wasn't unusual for me to do so, and so I continued. The light flashed red, and the door slid open with its familiar whoosh. J stepped inside and pushed his cart toward the table.

I stared at the array of syringes on the cart. J kept his head down as he prepared the needles and placed blue stickers on half of them. As usual, I got mine first, the ones without any labels.

“Are you still giving me the memory blocker slash hypnotic stuff?” I said.

J stuck the last unprepared syringe into a bottle and pulled back on the plunger. Clear liquid seeped inside. He stopped it as it reached one of the many lines marking the appropriate dosage. “Yes,” he said as he pulled it free.

“Why?”

“I give you an injection daily, if I stopped altogether, they would notice.” His voice was flat.

“What are the other two?” I kept my focus on the cart. It wasn't clear to me how many injections I received on a daily basis as three syringes had been prepared for me this day. My head tilted back as though I looked at the light above the door.

“You certainly are filled with questions.”

“I'm bored.” I was careful not to shrug as I spoke.

My eyes wandered away from the door to J's face. His head bent over his work, but his eyes looked upward, and our gazes met for a moment.

“This is the alcohol swab,” J said as he rubbed the cold and damp piece of gauze over my shoulder.

I smiled. He'd never explained the process before, and listening to his words interested me. J picked up the first syringe with a small amount of liquid inside.

“This is the memory block hypnosis drug – Cecil designed it. In its full strength, it keeps the patient in a trance with no memories of their past. A small amount must be administered daily to keep the patient in that state. This dosage, however, is much smaller and diluted.” The tip of the needle pierced my skin, and I closed my eyes for a second. “This one prevents menstruation for three months.” He poked me in the arm again with the new syringe.

The word was familiar. I looked away as if the definition of the word could be found floating in the air. “Oh!” The memory came to mind. That was a good needle to get. How many of those had I received?

“And this one,” J stuck the needle into my shoulder, “is the booster to the vaccine I gave you the other day.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to recall both the shot and the meaning of the word vaccine. “Against what?” I said as it came back to me.

J pressed a piece of gauze on my shoulder for a second and replaced it with a bandage. “You always bleed a little.”

He avoided my question, and so I tried again. “Vaccination against what? Do you get one?” My voice rose a little.

“Nothing you need to be concerned about. And no, not for the last year,” he said as he prepared B2's arm.

B2 sat motionless as J injected her with her three injections.

“I have backed her off her block a little more today.”

I rubbed at the creases in my forehead, “Why are you dressed like that? Are we sick – are you?” The questions blurted from my mouth without thought, and my heart picked up its pace.

J sighed through his mask. “You are not sick. I am not sick. The garb is merely a precaution. Now, I must go.” J finished packing up his cart and left the room. I was sure he had not told me everything.

We sat a few minutes longer; each of us stared off into space. While my brain buzzed with thoughts and memories, B2's gaze was as blank as ever. I was tempted to wave my hand in front of her face. The phrase “The lights are on, but nobody's home” whispered in my head.

Hours later we sat eating our dinner. Seated at the table was the only time my body relaxed as the camera behind me focused on B2. My boredom turned me into a little child, and I made faces at B2 between bites of food. I mimicked her movements. Head down – take a bite of food, head up – chew. Only when I put my head up, I changed my expression. I fluttered my eyelids, stuck out my tongue, and puffed out my cheeks. Not a single face produced a reaction. B2's eyes continued their blank stare.

I sighed, dinner would be over soon, and the long night would begin.

I put my head down and stared at my last bit of food before finally placing it into my mouth. In unison, we tipped our heads up to chew. I opened my mouth wide; my chewed food rested on my tongue.

B2 stared at my open mouth, and I stared back. She blinked. The dark shades behind her eyes lifted, and the light filtered through. B2 had suddenly returned home.

FIVE

APRIL

Children's laughter echoed in my ears. There were giggles and snorts of varied pitches – it was a kaleidoscope of sound. I looked down at my bare feet. Cool blades of lush, green grass stuck up between my little toes, warmed by the sunlight that bathed them. They wiggled, and the sparkles in my purple nail polish reflected the light like shining amethysts. I pulled my hands from the pockets of my shorts and looked at the nails on my fingers. Each nail was painted a different bright colour. I fanned my fingers, and the colours reminded me of a rainbow arcing across the sky.

A pair of smaller hands reached up and grabbed for mine. The same bright coloured nail polish decorated the fingernails of the little girl standing in front of me. Wavy, brown shoulder-length hair framed her round face. Her icy blue eyes beamed at me as giggles shook her body and sputtered out through her pink lips. We spun around in Ring-Around-the-Rosie fashion. The yard whizzed by in a dizzying blur as we twirled faster and faster. I leaned back, tilted my head toward the sky, and closed my eyes.

Suddenly, our bodies sprawled out on the grass, but I couldn't remember how we got there. Had our spinning dizzied us so much we fell down?

We lay on our backs and stared up at the bright, blue sky. Our imaginations created animals and other things from the fluffy white clouds. I reached up and pointed out the shape of a rabbit, taking note my hand looked much larger and older than it had earlier.

I found myself standing once again, and like before, with no recollection on how I ended up in that current position. A bead of sweat trickled down my chest and wound its way down the front of my purple tank top and between my breasts. To my surprise, I was certain I didn't have those small lumps moments ago when I'd been spinning around. My hands cupped each small mound and pressed them lightly toward my chest. They were real. I shook my head in confused disbelief.

I took a step forward; something pricked the underside of my foot. I immediately looked down and searched for the cause. Brown, dried grass poked up between my toes like little needles. I took another step. The sensation of breaking and crunching grass travelled up my body and reached my ears. I was certain there had been an audible crunch. My eyes scanned the ground and searched for any evidence of the lush green grass I'd been standing in not long ago.

The yellow and brown hues of dying and dead grass met my wandering eyes. I squinted. “What's happened?” I whispered. My hand brushed away a damp lock of hair that had fallen in front of my eyes as a bead of sweat dripped from my nose. I watched as it fell to the ground in slow motion. When it hit, the drop broke and splashed on a few blades of yellowed grass. I stared in wonder as the blades bent and moved toward the tiny amount of moisture. I crouched down and lifted the wilted blade with the tip of my finger. The grass would need much more than a drop. I tilted my head up to the cloudless, blue sky. The blazing sun was hot on my face.

“April!” A distant voice called and pulled my attention away from the sky. I rose to my feet and looked around. Who was calling? Who was being called?

“April!” It was her voice, the girl who stood beside me. She looked familiar, older than the girl I'd spun around with, but younger than B2. I stared at her; my lips parted, and my eyes narrowed again.

The girl reached out and touched my arm. My eyes fell on her warm hand. Beads of perspiration glistened in my arm hair. My gaze wandered up her arm and took in her round face. Her icy blue eyes widened as her grip tightened a little on my arm. Her lips parted.

“What's wrong, April?”

My eyelids fluttered open in the dark, and my hand reached down toward my waist and pulled the sheet up to my chest. B2's soft snore from across the room entered my ears. I rolled over, pulled the sheet up to my shoulder, and faced the wall. The surveillance equipment reminded me of its presence. I focused on the tiny leftovers of my dream. Piecing the senseless bits of information together with the hope they'd make sense. Each scene became more defined as I put the pieces in place. I pulled my right hand out from underneath my cheek where it had been tucked and wiggled my fingers in the dark. Had my fingers and toes worn such bright sparkling colours? My toes wiggled under the sheets as though blades of dried grass were stuck between them.

The image of the round-faced girl with the brown, wavy hair came to mind. Was she B2? I squeezed my eyes shut to erase the picture of her face. A distant voice whispered deep inside in my head. What did it say?

I focused on the sound, on the word. The whispering voice grew louder as the memory forced its way out from the deepest part of my brain. Come on! I willed. Invisible hands reached inside my head and pulled the voice closer.

My eyes sprang open. Was my name April?

SIX

REAWAKENING

Morning couldn't come soon enough. J couldn't come soon enough.

It was hard moving through the procedures like I was nothing - like I merely existed. I was more than an ID number; I had a real name. A name I remembered or at least thought I had. Only J could help, I hoped.

We sat at the table; my gaze darted from left to right as B2's fixed straight ahead. The clarity I'd seen in B2's eyes had been fleeting. My restless feet wanted to tap on the hard, white floor, but I kept them still. My hands rested flat on the table in front of me. Once I caught the absent tapping of my finger but stopped it the second I noticed. I had no idea if I'd been doing it for long. My concentration was on keeping my feet still and watching for the red light.

A large exhale blew out between my lips when the light finally glowed red. The muscles in my upper body relaxed as the door opened. I focused on the entrance.

“Good morning.” His voice boomed.

I stiffened and held my breath. It was him, the man with the overpowering scent and the white hair. The man I knew but didn't know at the same time – Cecil. J trudged in behind and pushed his cart through the door. He shot me a look. I understood and kept my gaze fixed straight ahead.

“Did you girls have a good sleep?” Cecil said.

I could see B2 nod her head, and so I did the same.

“Good, good,” he said with a lilting voice. His heavy hand rested on my shoulder; the paper robe offered little protection against his cold touch. My skin prickled and tingles coursed up from my feet and out through the top of my head. My heart thumped in my ears.

I focused my attention straight ahead as J stood in his usual spot at the table. I couldn't see what he was doing, but my ears tuned into every sound.

“Excuse me, sir,” J said in a tone I'd never heard before.

The pressure on my shoulder eased. The smell of alcohol stung my nose as the cold swab touched my skin. My shoulder registered the sharp jab of a needle. My heart picked up its pace when a wave of numbness travelled over my body. There was no time for thought as I slipped into unconsciousness.

I gasped as warmth rained down on my head. My eyes closed. Fuzzy memories and thoughts teetered on the verge of clarity. Seconds later, they bombarded me like the spray of water from the shower head.

I stepped from the shower, allowing the blowers to dry me off. How long had I been gone? My stomach tightened as more memories came rushing back.

When I stepped from the bathroom, B2 was already seated at the table, waiting, and I joined her. Thoughts swirled in my head. My last memory was of sitting in my chair waiting for J to come into the room. I had something I had wanted to ask him, but that was one memory I couldn't reach. I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, the red light flashed, and J came into the room alone.

“How long?” I whispered.

“Glad you are back.” J glanced at me for a moment; his eyes crinkled. He returned his attention to his cart and went back to work.

“How long?” I repeated a little louder.

“It has…” he wiped and poked in one quick motion, “only been two days.” My arm jerked a little. It had hurt.

“Two days?” The revelation surprised me.

“It depends on how you look at it; I might even suggest three.”

I didn't think my eyes could open any further. I opened my mouth instead.

“It does not seem to have left any ill effects.” He pressed a small cotton ball over the injection site.

“Did he come every day?”

“No, only that one time. The next day I dropped the dosage back down to what you had been getting. It was a bit of a risk, though.”

“What do you mean?” There was a sudden flutter in my chest.

“Just your body went from having one full dose to about an eighth in a twenty-four-hour period.” He stuck a bandage on my shoulder.

“You risked my life?” My ears burned with anger.

J paid no attention and continued to prepare B2's injection. “I only risked returning your complete memory, but it was a risk I had to take. I need you to be aware sooner than I expected.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why?”

“Things are…” he paused as he stuck a needle into B2's arm. Her blank gaze showed she never registered the prick.

“Are what?” I said. My patience waned.

“Well, I am not exactly sure what. But trust me when I tell you things are feeling a little different.”

“What about B2?” I said as I stared into her empty eyes.

“I am backing her down as quickly as I can. It is far riskier for her to go too fast. You had already been on a much lower dose for quite some time before I had to give you a full one again. Your sister on the other hand…”

J's mention of the word sister sparked memories of brown grass, sparkling nail polish, and a round-faced girl calling a name.

“Is my name April?” The words blurted from my mouth.

J stopped cleaning his cart and stared at me for a moment. Clearly, I had asked the question of all questions.

J didn't answer. Instead, he finished cleaning up. Then he pushed the cart toward the door.

My heart beat faster as the burning returned to my ears. “Is my name April?” I said again. My stomach clenched with my words.

“Yes.” The door slid open, and J disappeared along with his clanging cart.

SEVEN

AUTO-PILOT

Wisps of hair around my face fluttered in the breeze created by the sliding door. I stepped inside the doorframe and looked back at B2. Her body hunched over the desk in the corner as she worked on her studies like a programmed robot.

I followed J down the long, white corridor. The lights hummed and flickered overhead. Cameras with red eyes tracked our progress down the corridor. We passed several doors along the way, none of which gave any sign as to what lay behind them. Thoughts of what, or who, buzzed through my head.