Day One

Sunday February 1 1998 - 8:58 am

It’s dark. Incredibly dark, not a single patch of light to be seen. I hear a sound, it’s sharp, with an echoing thunk. What is that? It sounds like a dripping tap.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

So constant, perfectly in time, like a drum beating. It sounds far away. I go to sit up and hit my head hard. A bolt of pain shoots through my skull. I groan out in agony, my voice echoes back at me. I lay back down slowly and try to reassess.

I attempt to move around but it’s difficult, I’m boxed in by four flat, cold, walls. I feel around me with my fingertips, they slide over a smooth hard surface. I tap it lightly with my fingernail, I’m greeted by the soft ting of metal. I feel above me and find the same surface, my hand slides on something slick, I touch my face and it stings a little. Blood? Did I cut my head open?

I need light. I search for something that will brighten up my surroundings, but I find nothing. I seem to be draped in something loose, a gown, maybe, or a sheet? The fabric feels soft under my fingers.

With sudden clarity it dawns on me, I’m trapped. I felt hazy before but now I’m completely awake. I have no idea how to escape, I reach above my head and push desperately. I push at all the walls hoping something will come loose, something will collapse beneath my desperate hands. Nothing happens. I’m still trapped. A sudden terror washes over me, I feel hot, uncomfortable, my breath gets stuck in my throat, I start to panic.

I try to calm myself down, everything is going to be fine. I just need to relax and think, I breathe in and out slowly. Surely there’s a perfectly acceptable explanation, surely there’s no reason to panic. It just doesn’t make any sense.

I try to relax but my head feels fuzzy and I feel sick, I close my eyes and reopen them, hoping that I’ll be somewhere else but the darkness is still there, it feels like it’s closing in on me.

This is probably just a nightmare, but everything feels so cold and uncomfortable. I don’t like this, it feels too real.

I hear a new sound, footsteps, my spirits lift, is somebody here to help me? The steps sound hollow, as if they’re navigating through an empty space. Heavy soles against something hard. Another echo to match that incessant dripping, adding to the cacophony of eerie background music.

The footsteps are even, unhurried. They seem purposeful, coming ever closer.

They distract me for a second and then the panic comes rushing back. Why is it so dark in here? What if they’re not here to help?

Once again I reach around me desperately. Wishing there was something I could hold onto, I feel as if I’m on a rollercoaster and I can’t get off. Horror stories begin to fill my mind. Am I going to die? Is this one of those organ harvesting things? Is this human trafficking? Why would someone chose to traffic me?

All of a sudden my blood runs cold. It hits me suddenly, I have no idea who I am. I try so hard to remember but every time I ask the question my head hurts, like my head is filled with concrete. Who am I?

Short memories flash through my mind, like something out of a dream that I can’t quite remember. I see myself in third person, wearing jeans and a T-shirt but I can’t recall my face. I lay on my back, staring into the endless black void. I feel lost, I don’t know who I am, where I am or how I got here.

I try to move in the confined space, getting myself wrapped up in the loose fabric I’m covered by.

I hear a swoosh and a soft thud, a door opening and closing. I hear the even footsteps once again, this time coming closer. They slow and then stop, suddenly muffled words replace them, I can’t make out what’s being said. The voice sounds female, light, airy, friendly. This still doesn’t ease my anxiety. All of a sudden I think of a movie I saw, a scene that reminds me of this, why do I remember that, but not who I am?

Once again the familiar footsteps start up again, they sound as if they’re right outside my tiny metal prison and they stop once more. I try to slow my breathing, to remain as quiet as possible. It feels like there’s no air in here, the panic begins to rise again. I have to get out, I don’t care who’s out there.

I knock on the walls that contain me. It doesn’t matter if the woman is an enemy or a friend. I have more of a chance to get out of this place, whatever it is. I frantically knock on the hard cold metal above, below, next to me. I try yelling out but my throat is raw and no sound comes out.

I hear quick movement, someone inching ever closer, a metallic clang, the awkward raspy breathing of whoever it is on the other side. I feel so tired. I realise I have to muster all my energy so I can attempt to escape. I hear a slow click and feel my weight shift backwards as the platform I lay on moves slowly towards a blinding white light.

Is this what dying feels like? I shield my eyes with my hands to block the light, feeling a searing pain as I try to observe my surroundings, my eyes are slow to adjust. I lay there helplessly with no room to move, waiting for the light to completely envelop me. When the platform comes to a rough stop, I throw my body hard to the left with all my might. My legs have no strength, my feet touch the ground but my knees bend and I fall hard to the floor. Looking down, I see a blurry vision of glistening white tiles. I grunt and try to get up again but my body won’t cooperate. My arms are as useless as my legs. I lay sprawled on the cool flat surface, I can smell the faint aroma of bleach. The floor is so much colder than I’d expected. It shocks me, I look over and see a pair of shiny black military boots and try to look up, but I’m stuck.

I feel arms around my waist as somebody helps lift me up, puts my arm around their shoulder. I see a pale face framed by thick red hair, she must be the person I heard. She pulls her headphones down from her ears and leaves them slung around her neck, loud music blasts out. I don’t recognise the song.

“Can you walk?” She asks, her dark blue eyes look concerned as they stare into mine.

I try to respond but nothing comes out, I just nod.

She holds me up as I shuffle awkwardly, getting led to god knows where. My eyes have now adjusted to the light, I can see clearly around me. We’re in a completely white room, the metallic surfaces reflecting the harsh fluorescent light. I look down at my feet, they look twisted, they don’t look as if they’re my own, they look dirty and bruised. The woman takes me to a chair and places me there.

I sit and stare at the wall in front of me, so white, so boring. I can’t move my neck, I’m stuck, endlessly staring straight ahead. The woman walks away and leaves me alone. I consider making another break for it but quickly realise that it isn’t possible. I raise my hands slowly to my face and look at them, they’re covered in cuts, my palms are a bloody mess. What happened to me? Panic rises once more, this time I fail to control it, I begin to hyperventilate and cry. I start fading in and out, my vision blurs, I see stars. I give in and fall into the thick darkness.

I hear a shuffling sound, I feel like I’ve just woken up from an awful night’s sleep. I open my eyes and look at the ceiling. The lights are blinding. I’m laying down again, on something cold and hard. It’s uncomfortable but a relief for my sore joints and my swimming head. It feels like it’s easier to think, to focus.

The woman from before leans directly over me. Her dark red hair hangs down and hits the side of my arm. “How are you feeling?” I look at her crisp white coat, searching for a name but find nothing. The woman inspects me, her brow furrowing. I try to speak, but my voice still eludes me. I try to get up, but my muscles won’t cooperate.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re in pretty bad shape. You should rest.” The young woman pats my shoulder and smiles down at me. “You’ve sustained some pretty bad injuries, nothing that won’t heal up with a bit more time though.” I relax a bit, she seems nice, maybe I’m in a hospital? Maybe everything is going to be fine?

“You should get some sleep, I’ve given you a sedative, it’ll knock you out and help you heal a bit quicker.” She winks at me. “You’ll be better in no time. I’ll come back in a bit and check on you, okay?”

“Hngg.” I grunt in reply. My eyes feel heavy. I close them and drift off.

When I wake up again I’m alone and my head is killing me. The room is dark and for a second I think I’m back in my metal prison. I can still hear that annoying dripping tap. The only light is coming through a gap underneath the door.

I flatten my body against the cool metal I’m laying on, close my eyes and try to think. Things don’t feel right, I need to go home. I try to work out how I wound up here but it’s no use, no matter how hard I concentrate nothing comes to mind, my never ending headache isn’t helping much either.

I try to get up, I lean forward carefully, I’m shaky but I manage to sit upright. I shift my weight and slide my legs over to the left, they dangle off the edge of what looks like an autopsy table. I stare down at my legs, chunks of skin are missing, but they’ve already begun to heal up, the skin is a smooth dark red. It looks like they’ve been burnt.

I take deep breaths, trying to remain calm. I need to find a way out of this place. I look around the room, even without a lot of light I can make most things out. I take a good look around me. It looks like a morgue. White walls, ceiling, floor. The stale smell is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Drawers in one wall for bodies, where I must’ve been. I had so many questions running through my head. Did they think I was dead? I try to get down but as my feet reach the ground I realise I’m still too weak.

Once again I hear those same familiar, even footsteps. This time I can put a face to them, the redhead. When I focus, I hear someone else’s footsteps as well.

I see a shadow through the round glass in the door. As the door begins to open, I hear a click and bright light floods the room. The woman holds the door open for a man to enter. She turns and closes the door behind her. The two of them walk closer. The man wears a similar outfit to her, white lab coat, black pants, minus the boots. He sweeps his hand through his thinning grey hair, a stark contrast to her long, dark red locks.

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“So how’s the patient?” The man looks towards me.

“Fine.” I rasp, relieved I can finally speak again.

“She’s healed up nicely, look at the head wound, it’s like nothing even happened!” The woman looks pleased, smiling at her colleague.

He nods. “I know, it’s incredible how quickly they heal.” The man replies, looking astounded. “It never ceases to amaze me.”

“Who are you?” I croak, my throat’s dry. “Why am I here?” It hurts to speak.

“I’m Maida. This here is Ed, he’s in charge.”

“Hi.” Ed lifts up one hand and smiles.

Maida continues. “You were sent to us after your accident. You were in really bad shape.”

“Why am I here and not a hospital?” I ask my voice barely coming out.

“Well, technically this is part of the hospital.” Ed says. “We’ll explain everything to you in due time. Are you feeling alright, any pain?”

“Fine, I guess. Sore throat, sore head. But it’s bearable now. I don’t understand why I’m here or what happened. I can’t remember who I am.”

“The amnesia? That’s a very common side effect.” Ed looks over at Maida and she nods, her eyes shifting between Ed and me.

“I want to leave. I want to go home.” I say, pushing myself off the metal surface, this time I land on my feet. I have a hard time keeping my balance but I remain upright. I look down at my old friend, the cold tile floor, the sensation of cold isn’t the same as I remember it. It feels like my nerves aren’t really registering the pain of the icy surface on my skin. I recognise that it’s cold, but don’t really feel it, more of a memory of a feeling than a real sensation.

“I feel strange.”

“It takes some getting used to, or so I’m told.” Ed says.

“What does?” I ask. Maida and Ed don’t say anything.

“How about we get you cleaned up, then we’ll sit down and have a chat.” Ed says, he motions at Maida and says something quietly that I can’t make out.

Maida walks out of the room, the door swinging behind her. She comes back shortly after and holds a neatly folded stack of clothes in her arms.

“Here, get dressed, there’s a bathroom down the hall on the left, clean yourself up and we’ll explain everything.” She holds her arms out towards me and smiles.

I take the clothing and shuffle out of the room and down the hall. The lights in the hallway blink at me, as if signally something sinister, the blue hue of the empty space reminds me of a horror movie. I feel like I’m walking to my doom. I find the bathroom and step inside, locking the door behind me. I step in front of the mirror and place the clothing on the edge of the basin. I look into the mirror and stare at my reflection.

Who am I? I look at my dark hair, my pale skin, my bloodshot eyes, hoping that some memory will come flooding back. I don’t recognise myself. I don’t remember anything. I feel nothing. I splash cold water on my face and rub the patches of dirt and blood from my face and neck. My hands look better than before, they appear to have healed completely. I rub at them and as I clean the blood off it’s like they heal as if by magic.

I take off the gown I’m wearing and unfold the clothes I was given. I stare into the mirror at all the cuts and burns that cover my skin. I feel them with my fingers, patches of skin raw and risen up, I feel no pain. My whole body is covered, patches appear to have fully healed but other parts are deeper.

I slowly put on the clothing, a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie. They smell clean, like vanilla. I look at myself again, a sense of relief washes over me, the baggy clothes cover any disfigurement.

I look around and see if there’s a window I can get out of. Nothing. I unlock the door quietly and shuffle slowly down the hallway towards another door, I try to open it, but it’s locked. I do this one by one but don’t find an escape route. Every single door is locked.

Frustrated, I sigh and go back to the room I woke up in.

I walk inside and see Ed and Maida deep in conversation, looking at something on a video camera.

Maida turns around abruptly.

“What are you looking at?” I ask.

“Oh, um.” Maida quickly puts the video camera down. “Nothing, really. Just work stuff.”

“You can show her, she’ll need to find out eventually.” Ed says.

“Okay.” Maida says slowly and picks the camera back up and clicks a couple of buttons. “Why don’t we go in the office?” Ed says and they both walk towards the doorway, I follow, the door swinging closed behind me with a dull thud. Ed gets a key from his pocket and unlocks a door across the hallway. We all enter a small room, Ed clicks a switch, the room fills with a dull yellow light. A large steel desk fills almost half of the tiny space.

Maida takes a seat and gestures for me to sit next to her. I sit down on a hard plastic chair. Maida sighs and seems to be mulling over what she should say. “Okay, so when you came here, you were in pretty bad shape, we’ve already told you that.” She takes a long pause. “It was my job to help you get better as quickly as possible. Ed’s an old pro with this stuff, but I’m pretty new at it. He needs someone to continue this whole operation after he retires.” Maida trails off and looks up at Ed. “I’m not doing a great job of explaining this.”

Ed sits down in the chair behind the desk and leans back. “Let’s get straight to the point. As hard as this may be to believe, you’re technically dead.”

“Oh okay, I’ve heard that happens, like a couple of minutes or something? Is that why I wound up here?”

“No, you don’t understand, when you were handed over to us. You were dead, it wasn’t possible for you to have survived the injuries you sustained.”

I laughed awkwardly. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”

“You’re kind of like the walking dead but not quite.” Maida says. “Ed likes to call you the reawakened.”

I begin to laugh and I get up to leave. “You people are insane.”

“I know, I know, it seems crazy. When I first started dealing with this stuff I thought it was nuts too. My father told me all these stories growing up and I didn’t believe him but it was all true.” Ed says.

“Oh okay, so I’m like a zombie?” I say sarcastically.

“No, not really, you’re kind of half stuck in the spirit world.” Maida says, “At first I thought it was crazy too, when I first started working for Ed, I thought he was a weirdo.”

“What?” Ed says but Maida ignores him and continues.

“It pays to be openminded, there’s more going on than we’ll ever know.”

I sit back down in silence and look between them both, they look so serious. “Okay, if this is real, what happened to me?”

“Well, you were in some kind of explosion, from what we can gather from your autopsy. We think it may have been foul play. The trailer you were found in was burned to the ground, a gas cylinder exploded and probably killed you instantly. The police filed a report, you were unrecognisable, came in as a Jane Doe. You were very badly burnt.”

“Oh, okay. You performed an autopsy on me and you think I was murdered? But here I am, I’m fine. I don’t believe any of this.”

“I know you think we’re both insane but you don’t realise the opportunity you’ve been given. All of it will make sense in time.”

Maida grabs the video camera. “Here, I’ll show you.” She moves her chair closer to me, the legs scraping on the floor and puts the camera on the desk so I can view it. She clicks the play button and the video camera makes a clicking and whining noise, a film starts to play on the tiny screen in front of me. It’s blurry but I can make out a body, so burned you’d never be able to tell who it was.

“This is the film we took of you when you first came in.” She then fast forwards for a few seconds. “This is you an hour later.”

I lean closer to the screen, I see the body once more, but this time it’s changed. It’s already begun to heal.

“This is you an hour after that.” Maida clicks the fast forward button again.

Unburned skin begins to cover the body, scarred but better than before. A large head wound is on the left side, large chunks of skin are missing from the body’s arms and legs. She keeps clicking the fast forward and play buttons repeatedly, with each passing hour the body becomes ever more recognisable, it’s the person I was staring back at in the mirror just before.

“This has to be some kind of trick.”

“This is from two hours ago.” The body looks dead, its face has a yellow tinge. I look towards Maida who has now stopped presenting her macabre home video. She turns the camera off and puts it on the desk.

I reach up towards the side of my head and feel an indent that I’m sure wasn’t there before, it doesn’t feel right. For some reason I’m inclined to believe them but surely this couldn’t be happening, things like this don’t happen. People don’t come back from the dead.

“I don’t understand.” I look at Maida and then Ed searching for answers.

“There is a set plan for life, as much as people don’t want to believe it. Sometimes things happen that set the world off on the wrong course and people are given a chance to fix it. You get a second chance.”

“Why would I get a second chance? What could be so important that I’d need to come back and fix it.”

“That’s something you’re going to have to figure out. I’m not completely sure why some people get chosen to come back. They get these chances for many reasons, the wronged get revenge, they get closure, they get to tell the people they love something that would greatly change the future. You’ll need to figure it out before you can truly pass on.”

“I can’t even remember my name, how am I supposed to fix anything.”

“Don’t worry it’ll all come back to you, you notice how quickly you healed?”

He was right, I’d recovered very quickly, I felt stronger than before, faster. Like time had slowed down around me.

“Your mind will be the last thing to go back to normal, it always is. Bit of a more complicated instrument I suppose. The good news is, Maida did some digging and she found out a few things about you, which will hopefully make it a bit easier for you.”

Maida pulls out a folded piece of paper and reads off a list of information she’s gathered. “Your name is Elena Taylor and you live in Ridgemont. I found your photo on a missing persons flyer around town, it looks home made.” She flips the paper over to face me and pushes it closer, I look at it. A photo of me and some other girl smiling at the beach, her face doesn’t look familiar. She’s pretty, a bit taller than me, with a wide smile filled with large teeth. There’s a phone number down the bottom, some basic information about me, hair colour, eye colour. It makes me happy to know someone out there is looking for me. Somebody cares.

“I’ve already tried to call the number but I can’t get through.”

“Are we in Ridgemont?”I ask.

“No, it’s about an hour away. We’re in Garfield. Ridgemont’s a tiny little place, the roads get closed up there during winter. Pretty much just a tourist town really, a few restaurants, probably more motels than residents.”

“It’ll take you a while to get your memory back but coming from such a small town it probably won’t be hard to find things out. The place will help to jog your memory.” Ed says.

“How do I get there?”

“Maida will drive you. She’s going to help you out for as long as you need her.”

Maida looks over, smiles and nods. “I’m at your disposal, whenever you’re ready to go.”

“I’m ready now.” I want to get out of this place.

“You sure?” Maida turns to Ed, looking worried.

“Yeah, we don’t have time to waste, right? Let’s get out of here.” My voice is still rasping but I say it with conviction. I’ll be so happy to get some fresh air, to escape this place. We leave the office, I trail behind Maida, unsure of where to go. She walks with quick short steps. She takes off her coat and hangs it on a hook near the door. Ed walks ahead, opens the door at the end of the hall and holds it open for us both.

“Why do you keep all the doors locked?” I ask.

“Can’t have people finding out about the undead, can we?” He says winking.

I smile at him. I guess not.

“It’s more common than you’d think, what’s happened to you. Over the years I’ve dealt with many people in your position. I get sent bodies all the time for autopsies.” He does finger quotes when he says the last word. “Most morgue workers know about this stuff, it’s not something you can tell everyone about though. They think you’re nuts, and you can’t let too many people know if someone’s coming back, then someone can get in the way of them completing their mission.”

“So I should be careful then?”

“Yes, of course, luckily you’ll heal up very quickly. Much quicker than anyone who might be an enemy. There are drawbacks though, you’ll begin to decay with time. It’s important to correct things as quickly as you can, once you start to decay it will get much harder and without peace, you can’t move on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll never truly die, it’s a sad thing when that happens. Your body will rot and you will remain conscious in that state.”

“What happens if I do complete it?”

“I don’t actually know, I’ve seen the bad outcome, but never the good.” He paused for a couple of seconds. “Just remember you don’t have forever to figure this out. With anything in life, or in this case, death, there’s always a catch.”

“How long do I have?”

“A week or so.”

“I only have a week to figure this out?”

“With Maida’s help I’m sure you will. You’ll know when you’re starting to run out of time. You’ll begin to lose energy, lose feeling, you might have already noticed you don’t feel things in the same way. That’s normal, you won’t really feel pain as intensely as before. Unless you have a memory.”

“I haven’t had any memories yet.”

“Trust me you’ll know when you do, the reawakened always complain about them.”

We walk outside towards a parking lot. I look up at the hospital as I walk away, it’s a daunting building made of dirty concrete. The sky is dark, making the building look soulless and hollow. Maida is making her way towards a small red hatchback. She opens the driver’s side door and gets in, I approach from the other side. I look over at Ed, his wispy grey hair getting whipped around in the wind. He reaches over and touches my shoulder. “Sometimes things don’t end as they’re supposed to, the dead don’t remain dead. You’ve been given a chance to correct things. Don’t waste it.”

As I get in the car he turns to us both. “And girls, don’t forget to have fun!”

I close the door and look out at him. Ed waves and I wave back. What a strange man.