Immediately Forgettable

Chapter 18

I could hear the heavy doors latch behind me, the echo running down the length of the hall and announcing my expulsion from the silo. As we approached the doors to the "normal" King Industries, I tried to clam myself by taking stock of the situation, in the hopes of finding a solution.

Dagger was dead. Not only would the image of him getting shot not leave my brain, but he was also our best hope of stopping King and saving billions of lives. Jen was our ace in the hole, but she was compromised and in the same spot as me. We had our phones, but the signals have been blocked, making them good for a few games, but little else.

Maybe a better play would have been to have joined Team King and try to bring down from the inside, but there were only hours left and I seriously doubt King would have given me full access until I had been fully vetted. And there was no point in second-guessing. I needed a new plan, and I needed it now.

We burst through the doors into Normal King Industries, which was now buzzing with activity. And people. Lots of people. And the best thing a captured forgettable person could ever see was a large crowd of people.

I knew what I had to do — and I knew I had to do it alone. As much as I hated to leave Jen, she was, in fact, extremely recognizable...and beautiful, and sweet...but I digress. I wouldn't make it two feet with her. But without her I could get lost in the crowd. Maybe find a working landline or get far enough away from the compound to get a working cell signal.

Of course, if I left Jen now, I would look cowardly in her eyes — not that it would matter, because she would forget I existed within a short time. But I was out of options — being stuck together during the apocalypse does not sound like the best romantic comedy.

I turned to Jen and said quietly but confidently: "I will be back for you."

With that I pulled my arm from one guard and shoved him into the other. I dashed for the crowd, which was only a few feet away. I made my way in deeper and slowed my pace. My guards aggressively pushed their way through the masses, nearly knocking me over in the quest to find me.

I watched them move past me, leaving a trail in their wake. I looked back toward Jen, but her guards had hurried her off to whatever room they would hold her in for the next hour. One more hour.Not much time to waste.

I headed toward the common area, figuring the crowds would be biggest there, and maybe I could find some phone service. King's eyes seemed to follow me as I passed picture after picture of him. Until my own eyes started following me! I heard murmuring up and down the hall as King employees took stock of this strange situation — King had turned every other picture of him into one of me. And no Photoshop glamour from me, but the pasty-faced security photo I took on my arrival.

No matter where I went, I was no less than 20 feet from a giant image of myself. King had negated my power. Fortunately, most people were still obsessed with the lack of cell service and hadn't noticed the change in screens — that is until it was announced over the speakers that I was a fugitive and, just for good measure, I was responsible for the cell disruption!

Now everyone wanted a piece of me.

I found myself in front of the gym — the one for regular employees that was no doubt not quite as nice as the one for King Elites — but it offered me a quick doorway to escape from a hallway full of me and people who would finally recognize me.

There were pictures of King and me on the walls here, too, but there were less people in this section, and it offered me a place to hide out while I figured out my next move. I made my way to the men's locker room, which was mostly empty except by a few guys who were preoccupied with their showering and beauty rituals than the photos on the walls.

I slipped into an empty locker — I had been shoved into many, but this was the first time I went willingly. I left the door slightly ajar so I could get out when I wanted to, and also so I could monitor the room and make a break when needed.

I had accidentally picked a good place to hide. From my vantage point, I could see around the corner from where the lockers were to a long counter of sinks and mirrors. There were no images of me or King there, perhaps due to modesty and no one wanting King staring at them while they were heading for the showers.

There was one guy at the sinks. He was average height and build, short blonde hair, with thin-rimmed glasses and covered only in a towel that was wrapped around his waist. He appeared to be giving himself a pep talk about how great he was going to be today. Kind of endearing, but less so considering I needed him to wrap it up and get into the shower so I could make a move.

After he fist-bumped himself in the mirror (really), he nodded somewhat confidently at himself, placed his glasses on the sink, and headed for the showers.

Once he was gone, I eased out of the locker, making sure no one else was around. No one was. One bit of good news for a day that had quickly turned to crap. I rushed to the sink and tried on Blondie's glasses — it worked for Superman, and he was much more memorable than me.

Glasses would be enough to do the trick — it wouldn't take much — but this guy must be blind as a bat without them. The prescription was so strong that I got a headache the second I tried them on. No way could I function with them on. I took them off and surveyed what else he had left on the counter. Toothbrush, comb, hair dryer, toothpaste, and an electric razor.

The razor had a trimmer attachment that he had also left on the counter. I looked at my own mousey brown hair in the mirror and imagined it gone. That would certainly do it — even standing in front of a six-foot image of myself, no one would recognize me. But I always felt I would look ridiculous bald, and, in doing this, it all but guaranteed that Jen would not remember me.

I was fine right now — my picture was everywhere! The constant reminder to Jen was the only bright spot of that. But the clock was running out, and it was a billion lives versus the vague, unlikely chance of romance for me. I am ashamed to say it really should have been an easier decision, but I finally fired up the razor.

My hair fell quickly along with a tear or two. It took a few passes, but I did a passable job. I didn't go all the way to skin, but left a dome of light brown fuzz around my head. Got all the patches I could find, then took off my polo and shook it free of follicles, and placed it back on, looking in the mirror at a face I barely recognized myself.

Hmmm. This must be how everybody else feels looking at me.

I heard the water turn off in the shower, so there was no time to linger. I headed back out into the hallway to test out my new look. I didn't stand directly in front of one of my visages — why push it — but I was able to walk the hallways unnoticed.

That's one thing down. Now how do I stop the apocalypse?

I figured my best bet was to get word out to the CIA. I had no doubt that they had the resources to stop King cold. The compound was vast and blocked, so I had to put some distance between it and me — and do it quickly.

If only I had access to a racecar.