Daniel Walker
I stared out my hospital window absentmindedly. The fall sky was an emotionless shade of grey. Below it, New Detroit was as busy as ever, the masses of people and androids walking on the sidewalks looked like swarms of insects from my room. In the horizon, I could make out the looming figure of the Monolith of Old Detroit. The fifty-meter high, twenty-meter wide, circular pillar was created as a memorial to the disaster that leveled Old Detroit.
Twelve years ago a terrorist group managed to get their hands on a prototype non-nuclear earthquake bomb. The bomb reduced Old Detroit and everything around it to rubble and dust, including the millions of people who lived there. The nearby city of Reedton -which was untouched by the bomb- was renamed New Detroit.
A knock at my door drew me out of my daydreams.
I woke up alone in this hospital room a week ago, there was no one waiting for me to wake up again. Only two nurses and a therapy android named 'Sally,' had helped me through a few days of physical therapy. They said that they were shocked that I had healed so quickly. There was still no word of relatives coming, not that I'd remember them anyway. Amnesia tends to have that effect.
Now this woman with light brown hair had entered my room. She looked to be in her early-twenties, she was wearing a light grey business suit. She was looking professional and authoritative, while her partner was looking professional and authoritative in a different way. He was a large intimidating man wearing what appeared to be thick, black, riot armor, and had bandages wrapped around his face, leaving only the left eye exposed.
"Hello, my name's Madison." the woman said with a red lipped smile as she took a seat next to my hospital bed. The man just quietly leaned against a wall.
"Can you tell me your name?" She asked thoughtfully.
I thought for a moment. What was my name? I didn't know. I shook my head, "They told me it was Daniel." I said, panic starting to rise in my voice. "Daniel, Walker. Who are you? You're not relatives are you?"
"Not quite, we work with the Pandora Institution-so did you, you were injured while trying to apprehend a convict." Madison said as she handed me a file.
I began studying the pages intently. It was my profile. It read; "Name: Walker, Daniel. Age: Twenty-three. Eye Color: Green. Height: 6'2" Identity-Code: 835806. Date of birth 9/30/2015..."
"Are you alright?" Madison asked, "You look worried."
"Oh, it's nothing, I just noticed that I turned twenty-four the other day." I explained, "What exactly is the Pandora Institution?"
"Pandora is a detention center for the criminally insane who require special care." Madison replied shaking me from a sad thought.
"I worked in a nuthouse?" I asked, a bit surprised that I had worked at such a place.
The man leaning against the wall uttered what sounded like an unimpressed sigh and shot me a chilling glare. He had a strange, disturbing atmosphere around him. His single bloodshot eye didn't look the least bit normal either, it was dark orange, and the skin around it was pale and cracked.
Madison let out a small cough. The man ripped his eye off of me, looked at Madison, and let out a low grumble.
Madison sighed, a small frown had appeared on her face, "Sorry about that, were going to have to skip any more formalities, we need you to tell us anything you can remember about the breakout."
I didn't know what to say, I really didn't remember anything."I'm sorry, breakout?" I stuttered, "I can't... I don't..."
She let out another sigh and quickly stuck her head out the door and asked the nurse,"Is he good enough to move?"
The nurse replied, slightly startled with a clear, "Yes, if you have signed all the papers."
"All right then," Madison looked back at me and the man in bandages, "We will come back in half an hour, until then get yourself ready to go." She tossed a black jumpsuit and a wristwatch on the edge of the bed. They then left the room as mysteriously as they had entered.
I sat for a while after they left, contemplating what just happened. I eyed the clothes they had left. As I sat up on my bed I felt my stomach grumble,"I guess I'm hungry." I chuckled to myself. I reached for the fatigues, but something outside my window caught my attention.
There was an odd man standing on the crowded New Detroit sidewalk.
He was staring back at me.
...
The man seemed like he was not meant to be there, like he was detached from the rest of the world. It gave me a strange feeling to watch him, similar to the feeling I got from the man in bandages but not quite as intimidating, it just made me feel nervous, yet also curious at the same time.
Almost as strange as this feeling was his appearance; his black hair was long and wiry and he was wearing dark tinted goggles and a red scarf pulled over the ridge of his nose. He also wore a patchy, black trench coat with a hood sewed into it, black gloves, and thick boots.
We held this silent staring contest for about ten seconds before I suddenly felt a sharp pain go through my head, causing me to look away for a moment. When I looked back to the man I was surprised to see that the man had vanished into the crowd of pedestrians. What was that about?
I quickly put on my new clothes and walked towards the cafeteria. In the cafeteria I bought a cheeseburger with some money I found in the pocket. I found it difficult to use the soda kiosk because I couldn't remember what I liked, so I just ended up getting water. So far my amnesia was restricted to just my personal memories, I could remember the names of the presidents and knew what happened to Old Detroit twelve years ago, but I couldn't remember things about myself, no matter how hard I tried.
I checked the wristwatch that Madison had given me, and sighed, still fifteen minutes until she and that man are supposed to pick me up. I started walking around some more until I noticed the way that some people were glaring at me. I guess Pandora was not on the population's good side. I decided to go back to the cafeteria and wait there.
A couple minutes later Madison came to pick me up. The man in bandages was nowhere to be seen.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked with a small smile.
I nodded. I decide not to tell her about the odd man with the scarf. I feel like I should keep him a secret for some reason and it's not as if he was very special in a city filled with weirdos.
We left the hospital and were instantly bombarded by five New Detroit reporters. Most were after Madison, asking her questions like;
"Can you give us any new information about the breakout?" Asked Channel Six.
"Why haven't you told authorities who they should be looking for?" Next News added.
Life Talk Daily shoved a microphone at Madison, "Why has it been so long since you last came into town?"
"Do you blame this incident on your father's incompetence?" New Scoop tried.
"Mister Sleet is in no way incompetent! I was in charge at the time so the blame should rest on me." She snapped, and pushed through the reporters, knocking one into a puddle.
He cursed under his breath and two white public service androids rushed over help him up.
"Do you require assistance, sir?"
"No shit, give me a hand will you!"
I was a little surprised by her sudden outburst but I didn't think much of it. She might just just be under a lot of stress. Madison and I made our way towards an antique black '25 Honda. We dodged a few protesting reporters and androids and hopped inside the old car. She said that she now had clearance to tell me what was really going on, "The Pandora Institution was designed for the capture and study of people with incredibly dangerous powers."
"What do you mean?" I chuckled, nervously, "Like superpowers?"
"Almost," she said, smiling once again, "There are people who have the abilities that can manipulate physical or psychic energy. Fortunately we have a chemical designed specifically to provide effective means of controlling these abilities we call it Silver, unfortunately, it also usually results in mental deterioration." she paused, a distant look appeared on her face. "Patients are totally uncontrollable now, they can't be reasoned with, and they cannot be allowed to wreak havoc in the world. They have no purpose now..."
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine." she said and she continued her story, "Two years ago Pandora was attacked from the inside, a group of workers and a few patients conspired to help all of the prisoners escape. The workers didn't give the prisoners their daily silver injections and sabotaged the control room, releasing all of the patients. Almost all of the prisoners escaped and only two of the workers were...apprehended."
She reached into a trunk in the back seat and handed me a pistol and a badge with my name in white lettering, "Daniel, you were one of the agents assigned to hunt them down."