Vicious Memories

Chapter 8

I jerked awake, the words "Good luck and god speed" bouncing around my head.

For a few moments I could only wade through the aftermath of the images and sounds still floating in my head. It had all felt so real. I could still smell the carpet in that room, still hear that woman's droning voice.

But it could also be just another fantasy based on the one remaining memory I did have... and the fear that nearly suffocated me when I thought about what my past life might have been like.

I shook it off, not liking what the dream suggested.

A dagger of pain drove through my right shoulder as I tried to stand. I rolled it a few times, trying to loosen up the joint after sleeping on it. The rope around my wrists dug into my skin. In an awkward half-crouch I worked it up the pillar, sawing it back and forth, until I was able to stand. Stretching hurt every single muscle in my body.

Raised voices made their way through the cabin's covered entry.

"Hey!" I yelled. "What's going on out there?"

Just after my shout faded, a scream speared the morning and made my blood run cold. I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry. Somewhere out there a chorus of dogs barked and howled, and I wondered how I hadn't seen any of them on my way in.

"What's happening?"

A man's head appeared, one I didn't recognize. "Quiet. Stay put."

"Wow," I muttered as he withdrew. "Really helpful. Where the hell am I going to go?"

The gray light coming through the tarp suggested that we were at least an hour past dawn. How I could tell that, I had no clue, but I was beginning to stop questioning these kinds of things.

Time passed slowly, which it seemed to do quite often lately, as something happened in the village beyond the tarp. Events were playing out, but I was trapped here. All sources of information were cut off, and uncertainty became its own form of hell.

I couldn't do anything other than wait, so I waited. Almost fifteen minutes passed until the monotony of listening to garbled voices finally broke.

"I'll kill him."

My feet carried me behind the support pillar of their own accord, and I did a quick survey of the cabin. As before, it was completely empty. I worked furiously at my bonds. After a minute I gave up; there was no way to loosen them enough to slip a wrist through.

I was trapped.

More raised voices reached the cabin and stopped short. A loud smack reached me, like someone hitting the outside of the walls, then more yelling.

"Let me in right now."

Whoever stood outside the tarp gave a soft, but firm, response.

"I don't give a shit what he said. She's gone, and now we're going to kill him."

Other voices joined in. Emotions ranged through several of them, mostly fear and rage.

"She made me a plate of fruit from her own satchel for dinner every night. Every single night. Do you understand? I never even thanked her properly. When I was sick, she was the one who put a damp cloth on my forehead. Let me in."

"I'm going to rip his head off."

"She was one of us! How are you defending him?"

I tried to make sense of the disjointed yelling, but it was impossible. I shuffled from side to side. Whatever was happening, the blame seemed to be falling right at my feet.

I could hear no less than a dozen individual voices, all crying out for vengeance and retribution. Whatever had happened, whoever it had happened to, they were all acting like their own mother or sister had been hurt. The grief was setting in, and it was strong.

As I thought through possibilities, a new voice joined the group, deep and authoritative. I recognized it immediately.

In two seconds all the shouting died out. The sudden silence made goosebumps break out on my arms.

Gabriel ducked around the tarp and walked directly up to me. He looked down his nose and into my eyes, reminding me again of the height difference between us. The look on his face was awful to behold.

"Did you do it?"

The gears of my mind creaked and turned. "I've been in here the whole night. I just woke up to the yelling."

"That's not an answer," Gabriel pressed. "Did you do it?"

"I don't know what 'it' is, but from the sounds of things, no, I didn't."

Silence. I could feel the villagers holding their breath outside the cabin, could imagine them all leaning in to listen at the tarp.

"What happened?" I tried.

Gabriel blinked and a cloud seemed to lift from his features. He looked around, as if unsure how he had gotten here, and took a step back.

"Jessica," he said.

My throat tightened up immediately. Oh no. I took a quick breath, trying to fill my lungs, my eyes growing wide. Gabriel's looming presence was suddenly overwhelming. "Jessica what?"

"She was killed. Last night, close to dawn. We just found her body."

"No. No, I..." I swallowed, managing it this time. "I just saw her last night. We talked. She just told me about her... I mean... I liked her," I finished lamely. It was an understatement. Jessica was the only person I had really liked up to this point.

"And it's just a coincidence that you're here. Now. The night before she died."

"Of course it is," I said. Emotions - surprise, sadness, anger - flashed through me all at once, quick but sharp. "You people, Arun and Cooper, are the ones who brought me here. I've been in this cabin all night."

Gabriel stared, and I briefly wondered if this was what passed for anguish on his face. His lips twitched, tugging down at the corners. His eyes might have been wet, the glare behind them angry beyond comprehension.

"And you know nothing about this? Even if you didn't do it, you know nothing about how it might have happened?"

"I don't know anything at all," I said. "You and I just had this conversation last night. Before yesterday evening, there's nothing. And I certainly—" the memory of the dead woman with the pooling black hair flashed through my mind, making me nauseous, making me angry, "—would never have hurt Jessica. Never. What happened? How did she die?"

Gabriel didn't answer; he just stared. The physical weight to his gaze returned - I could feel it settling on my chest like a hammer, heavy and full of judgement.

Then, without warning, he turned and swept back out of the cabin.

I was alone again, left with only my thoughts and the single intolerable memory of the woman I'd killed. But this time when I closed my eyes her hair didn't pool around her like a lake; this time it was braided neatly into pigtails. And when I flipped the body over, Jessica's face stared back up at me.

I shuddered, angry again, banishing the image from my mind.

I hadn't killed Jessica, but I had done something just as bad to someone else. I needed to understand why, and to do that I had to get my memories back.

And I would. No matter what.

Jessica, I thought sadly, what happened to you?