Jacqueline Druga: Reset

“Shower. He needs to go into the shower,” Nora said and placed her face first to the man. “You need to shower to get this guck off. I know you can’t talk. Nod if you understand me.”

He did.

“I got him,” Malcolm said, helping him.

“Careful, don’t fall,” Nora said as she led the way.

Jason thought, About this point the video comes on and he turned to see it. He didn’t want to miss the message. Maybe it would have more to it.

He looked. There was no monitor.

No television.

Jason, puzzled looked at John. “Why doesn’t he have a monitor?”

“More than likely, he knows what’s going on. This is a big piece of the puzzle and tells us who is behind this all. He doesn’t need a video message.”

“Why would you say that?” Jason asked.

“You didn’t look at him. He’s Number One, all right,” John said. “That’s the president.”

John worked the ax against the corner of the door with as much determination as frustration. “This has to open. It has to.” He banged against the silver bar.

“What do you suppose the other door is?” Jason asked.

“Jason,” John exhaled. “I’m not an expert. I know as much about all this as you do.”

“I’m just having you guess.”

“I don’t know. I’d say exit, but they blocked out the word exit. This we can safely guess is an exit. It’s not locked.” John pushed the bar again. “I think something is against it. But in case it is just jammed.” John wedged the ax in the frame. “I’ll get through this son of a bitch.”

“You’re different, John.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. When I woke up. When Nora woke up. We were confused, near shells of human beings. You have it together. You know who you are, where you came from, what you were doing. We’re still piecing it together. A part of me thinks this door and the other will open when the forty three other people wake up.”

John stopped and stood upright. “That actually makes sense.”

“All this is preparatory. The supplies, the clothing, I just wish I knew when the others were waking.”

“It’s preparatory, but there’s more. It’s behind this door.”

“I wish President Thomas knew.”

John laughed.

“What?” Jason asked. “What’s so funny?”

“He knows. Don’t let him kid you.”

“He says he doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t even know he’s the president.”

John shook his head. “He knows. That’s the preacher in you believing the best. No. Where is he? In his room, while the rest of us are out here trying to figure this place out, trying to figure out what is going on. He’s staying away because he knows.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell us?”

“You are full of questions. And son of a bitch, this thing won’t budge.” On his final word, John slammed the ax into the door. When he did two things occurred.

The door opened.

Turning around to smile at Jason, John saw it.

Every door of every room slid open. Lights from the rooms flowed into the hall.

“I did not cause that, did I?” John asked.

“No, I think it was a coincidence. It’s time.” Jason glanced at John. “They’re all waking up.”

On that, John placed down the ax between the door and the frame. That door was finally open and it wasn’t the only one.

Good morning. By now you have awakened. Please, for your health, as quickly as possible, relieve your bladder and wash any remaining residue from your skin and hair. You will find we have provided you with clothing. At this point, you are wondering what is going on, all those questions will be answered when you have had the time to adjust. You have emerged from what is called a Genesis Unit. This experience hinders long-term memory, may cause cognizant problems, and may delay comprehension. Expect a full return to normalcy in forty-eight hours at which time, another message will play.

That was it.

The full message by the man in the lab coat.

Forty-three monitors played it all at the same time, but only the monitor in Room Three played the entire message.

Unfortunately, the occupant of that room didn’t make it. His Genesis Unit never drained and he was nothing more than a gray being, mummified in a thick bluish fluid.

In fact, most of the remaining forty-three people never woke up.

Something went wrong.

Two women and one man were all that emerged.

Some of the units drained, the occupants were still attached, they never woke, and the respirator was still perched in their lips. Malcolm tried with diligence to revive Number Seven. Her color was good, she wasn’t gray, but she didn’t return.

It was a quiet synchronized sequence of events. The hum of the lights sounded off and then a hiss as every door unlocked at the same time.

“Split up,” Jason instructed. “Someone may need help.”

Nora was nearest to Room One, she knocked on the closed door, and then without waiting for an invitation, she entered. “President Thomas, the others are waking. We may need some help.”

He was seated in a chair by the foot of his bed, hands folded, he merely glanced up and then back down.

“Did you hear me?”

He didn’t reply.

Giving up, Nora left the room.

“Something is wrong,” Malcolm said. “They aren’t moving.”

“This one is,” John yelled from down the hall. “I’m going in.”

Nora watched then as Malcolm frantically slid open the door to Room Six, it hadn’t opened. “Oh my God.”

She hurried in after.

The encasement was void of any fluid. A man was still attached. He didn’t move. His feet darkened from settled blood right before their eyes.

Malcolm reached to him. “He’s ice cold. What the hell.” And then Malcolm ran back out of the room.

Nora supposed he was seeing who else needed help.

She went into Five and the unit was dead. No lights, no blinking. No emptying of the fluid. The woman looked peaceful. Her hair flowed back and formed in the gel.

It was disheartening and sad. She looked the name Farris and mentally conveyed an “I’m sorry,” to her.

Figuring, she too needed to see who needed help, Nora left the room. She paused passing Room Seven.

Malcolm was detaching the woman.

“Malcolm?” Nora questioned.

“She’s still warm. She’s not breathing, but she’s still warm.”

Nora stayed only a moment, she realized Malcolm was going to try to revive her. The lifesaving technique wasn’t even a reaction to Nora. She felt deep inside her she didn’t have a clue on what to do.

In the situation with Number Eleven, Nora knew there was nothing anyone could do. It was, out of all of them, the most horrific

The name on the Genesis unit read Coyne. The woman was younger, possibly in her thirties. Her hair pulled back, the respirator had detached from her and was only a few inches from her mouth. Her skin wasn’t mummified, shriveled or gray, she was white, even her hair.

The fluid did not drain. To Nora, that was a good thing. The Genesis unit was a see through coffin and the woman perfectly preserved. But the young woman’s remains were completely different than anyone else’s.

The blue gel like fluid at the base of the unit had a swirling purple color. More than likely from settling blood. From between her slightly parted legs emerged an umbilical cord that floated upwards to the full term infant, curled in a fetal position infused in the gel right above her left thigh.

Throughout the fluid in the Genesis were speckles of red and white.

Seeing Miss Coyne caused an emotional and physical reaction in Nora. A wave of sadness blasted her, and physically she dropped to the floor.