The Steam War (The Steam War #1)

Chapter 13: A Lost Life

A helicopter was flying over the Atlantic Ocean, bearing a red cross on either side. The constant buzzing from the sound of the blades had kicked into action just over a day ago, and its passenger was already pretty sick of it. While she was conscious, at least. Only pieces of conversations and memories formed in her mind when she was awake. Nobody on board seemed able to help put them together, either.

One man, who she now knew as Secret Agent Ike, was sitting beside her uncomfortable bed in an uncomfortable chair. The paramedic, who was stationed close to her at all times, wore an uncomfortable red cross helmet and an uncomfortable frown. Simply put, the room had an uncomfortable feeling.

Not to mention the gray of it all. The walls and floor carried the same gunmetal gray as the rest of the helicopter. Gray cabinets full of medical supplies lined the walls, each labeled with some mumbo-jumbo from the medical field.

A second agent, who she later found out was Secret Agent Mike, opened the door to enter from the cockpit area. The noise startled her. She tried glancing up at him, but it caused pain.

"Slow down there, girly," Agent Mike said, slowly and cautiously approaching her. "I'm told you might not be able to understand what I'm saying, but if you can, nod yes."

It took a moment for her to muster the strength to nod, a slow movement that she struggled to do without hurting.

"Poor girl never saw the wave," Ike remarked. "It wiped her out in the blink of an eye." In his hand, he held a folder labeled as classified. He'd periodically flipped through the pages, and had even written on a couple of them.

"Yes, we're lucky to have gotten her that quickly," the paramedic voiced. "She appears to suffer from memory loss, and there is a fracture in her skull directly in the center of her forehead. However, the most worrying is some minor internal bleeding."

"I've seen worse," Agent Ike replied. "That said, you're a champ, kid. You're powering through something pretty rough right now."

"What I want to know is why two agents of one of the most covert government organizations are supposed to watch over a girl," Agent Mike huffed. Her foggy brown eyes scanned the room, desperate to piece together something understandable. Every word and every face seemed foreign to her.

"If I could tell you, Mike, I would."

-=[ ]=-

Six months passed. The girl was now sitting on a clinical chair in her doctor's office. She kicked her feet back and forth, waiting for him to finalize some paperwork that she was never going to see, anyway. Everything around here was classified. Beside her, the cast that had been over her head was now split open and discarded. It was a grim reminder that she couldn't remember anything about her life.

Finally, the doctor turned and handed her the closed folder. "Patient 24062," he said, "you're officially dismissed from rehab. Please retrieve your belongings and wait outside for your helicopter to take you to your new home."

He opened a cabinet right in front of her, revealing a mirror attached to the door. It was the only mirror she had peered into for the past six months. She blinked at her reflection and the blonde hair she had never seen before. Her foreign pastel-blue eyes stared in confusion.

"Doc," she asked, "how long has my hair been blonde?"

"You were born with it. You just couldn't tell with that cast on."

"What happened with my eyes?"

The doctor glared back at her. If she were to press any further, he would be caught in his lie. He could probably just tell her, but then he would be in trouble with that agent that brought her and might lose funding from the United States. As if he weren't already always one wrong step away from losing funding.