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Chapter 2

A cat-like man bolted towards my companion and launched himself at Yeosang’s entrance. The man tried to pepper Yeosang with kisses. Keyword, tried. He eventually loosened his grip on the flailing man before noticing my presence. A small ‘oh’ appeared on his lips whilst scanning me up and down. His gaze landed on my hand still held by Yeosang before his gaze flicked between us. 

“Sit.” He instructed and I sat down on the cold metal chair. 

Yeosang had let go of my hand and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed across his chest. I drew my eyes away from Yeosang to the poster on the wall illustrating the insides of a human body. The wall was lined with cupboards which probably held equipment or other medical supplies.

A plastic bench laid under the cupboard. The room was well lit and the light blue walls contrasted with the previous rooms I was in. I watched as the other man crouched around a metal cart, muttering to himself. He came back with a green bottle, cotton pads and dressings. He smiled which enhanced his cat-like features. 

“I’m San and I’ll be your doctor for today.” He joked and slowly reached out to inspect my palm. 

I opened my hand to find a sticky mess in my palm. The crimson started to crust with a brownish tinge. San unscrews the cap of the green bottle, unleashing a sharp, bitter smell. He poured the liquid from the bottle onto the cotton pad. 

“It might sting a little.” He warned, my palm already in his grasp. 

My eyebrows furrowed once the cotton bud swiped across the gash. San pushed the cotton pad harder onto the gash and my hand twitched from the stinging sensation. The once white cotton pad was stained red and now discarded into a bin. A dressing was placed on top before it was secured with a bandage. 

“There,” San tied off the bandage in a neat bow, “now you have to pay up. What’s your name?” 

I glanced at Yeosang for help. He pushed himself off the wall and sighed. San raised his eyebrow in a silent question. 

“It’s complicated.” Yeosang said tight-lipped, “we’re going to need another meeting. This time,” he gestured at me, “needs to be there.” 

I shifted a little, intimidated by the suggestion of meeting everyone. Yeosang walked out to inform the captain and I was left alone with le cat man. San had been friendly but cautious. It was obvious he filtered everything he said and gave minimal information despite trying for small talk to fill up the awkwardness in making an acquaintance for the first time. Other than a simple narration on the weather- which was and will always be awful- and how to care for the wound, San soon ran out of things to talk about. I let my feet swing from the chair as my focus fixated on the opposite wall.

“You don’t talk much do you?” San brought out the recurring question. 

Ah shit, here we go again.

I turned to him and nodded, sporting a neutral expression. Without anything else to add, San went to busy himself with the metal cart. With nothing better to do, I approached him and the cart, hovering awkwardly next to him. He must have not heard me so when he turned around, he yelped and jumped back.

Plastic bottles and bandages on top of the cart turned over and fell to the ground. Luckily the bottles were not opened and the bandages were in their sterile pouches. I felt equally shocked as San and scrambled to pick up the fallen material. 

I had seen why San had busied himself with the metal cart - it was a mess to say the least. Different types, shapes and sizes of wound dressings were piled up, bottles were not arranged in order and medication for various purposes were scattered and shared across all three shelves of the medical trolley. A second cart parked behind the first one was just as messy.  Lowkey (highkey) annoyed, I brought the carts close to a bench and began to dump everything from each shelf onto said bench.

The cart itself already had metal dividers and containers. Cart one was sorted with all bottles of antiseptic; ethanol, saline solution and iodine solutions categorised and arranged, on the bottom shelf. The middle shelf was for the wound dressings. The metal dividers provided an arrangement for smallest to biggest size from left to right. On top were for surgical scissors and tweezers as well as cotton pads, gloves and rolls of bandages and medical tape.

The second cart was mainly for medication. Since the second cart had doors and shelves that could roll out, aspirin derived medication was sorted at the top next to lozenges and cold medicine. The second drawer was to accommodate half of the pile of wound dressings that did not fit in the first cart. The third drawer held thin towels and blue cleaning cloths. I closed the second cart’s doors and stood up. 

“Damn, that job is definitely yours.” San commented when he inspected the organised carts. 

What job are they talking about? I mentally question. Nevertheless, I let out a small smile at the compliment and watched him sort the cupboards. The cupboards that were open held menial supplies such as various clasps, hydration tablets, laxatives, bandaids and somehow more dressings. San nodded in approval at his own assortments when he stepped back.

Yeosang returned. His expression stoic. His pointed eyes beckoned me over and I sort of waved bye to San out the door. 

Not once did Yeosang turn back. We halted in the middle of the room we were previously in before. He took a seat and I mirrored his actions. I fiddled nervously, pulling at the bandage wrapped around my palm. The paper slid slowly towards me with the pen. 

“We will start with a simple questioning. If I find that you are lying, it won’t simply be a questioning.” The soft voice dropped octaves lower. 

I nodded stiffly, afraid that any other movement would lead to harsher consequences. 

“Do you know what year it is?” 
I stared dumbly at Yeosang, mind blanking so hard that I froze. 

“Do you know where you are?”

Earth(?) 

“You have to be more specific.”

I could see the scepticism in my “amnesia” but I could not offer anything. 

“Are you going to answer or stay quiet?”

I reach out for the pen and hesitantly put the pen to the paper.

I really don’t know anything

“Do you remember any war before now? Global emergency? Government dissolution?”

I shook my head befuddled by this narrative of this world. There was not a spark of recognition. 

“How was your situation before you arrived here?” 

That question had also been running around in my mind since I got onto the back of the bike. I tried to scan through the lack of memories, grasping onto a sliver of a memory. It was an out of body experience of a spike in heart rate and erratic panting. 

I was running.
There was something strange about the memory. The problem was that the scenery in the memory was a white doorway erected out of nowhere and not of civilisation. It didn’t seem to have existed in reality.

Suddenly, a sharp ringing echoed in my ear, causing me to drop the pen in surprise. The ringing intensified along the sensation of a driving force, resembling a nail, being hammered into the back of my head. The image of the doorway burned the back of my retinas as the memory resurfaced. Hot and cold flashes ran along my spine and the driving nail thundering into my head turned into a buzzing of thousands of angry wasps.

I clutched my hair and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for the pain to fade. My elbow slipped from holding my head upright which swept the papers and pen off the table. I could feel myself tremble.

The pain peaked where I could no longer stay upright in my chair. I let my head drop onto the table, my arms automatically wrapped around to somehow alleviate the ringing. My movements met resistance. Hands pried my arms away and lifted my head.

Tears gathered from my eyes as I looked up weakly at Yeosang. He was slightly shaking me, lips moving but any sound he made was unintelligible. The volume of his voice simultaneously sharpened and muffled. Not before long, the shaking and yelling felt distant and I greeted an impending darkness with open arms.