False Memory by Dan Krokos Read Free Book Online

me, even if I don’t.
    My arms are folded. I feel weird standing in the middle of the bathroom, so I walk to the stall and lean against it too.
    “You were really just standing here in the dark?”
    “I was stretching. It helps me sleep when I have nightmares.”
    “What kind of nightmares?”
    He walks to the sink and fills a glass with water, totally ignoring me. Two sinks side by side, two mirrors, four toothbrushes. His back is to me. A thick red scar runs horizontal from shoulder to shoulder; it bulges when he lifts his arm to drink. I wonder how he got it, then realize I probably knew, just a few days ago, I knew.
    Nightmares are a sore subject. Check. I try something else.
    “I’m taking this pretty well, don’t you think?” Or I’m faking it well. I still feel like I could crack at any minute, like I’m being held together with brittle glue.
    “Like I said, you’re trained. You adapt. And as much as you’ve forgotten, you still remember our way of life. We’ve been here for years. Just a few days ago we played chess out there, me and you. I won but I think you let me. And you never let anyone win.”
    When he turns around, his eyes are red. It must be the light; he didn’t sound upset at all.
    “We’ve been friends for a long time,” he says.
    “I’m sorry I don’t remember.”
    He shrugs like it doesn’t matter, but it does, and we both know it. “We’ll make new memories.”
    I watch him leave, wishing I had something better to say, something to show him I’m the same girl he remembers, even if I don’t remember her myself.
    He left his cup on the counter, half full. I finish it and go back to sleep.

7
    We wake to knocking on our door. Dr. Tycast comes in with a little pushcart. Two trays on top carry our breakfast—an unlabeled protein bar, egg
whites, and orange juice. And two syringes filled with the flaxen liquid.
    “I thought I’d brief you here, so you can leave as soon as you finish eating,” Dr. Tycast says.
    We sit at the big table, the chessboard between us and the doctor. I was able to sleep, and I feel better. The bed felt and smelled familiar. Even though I don’t recognize the things around me, it feels right, and that’s enough to get by for now.
    Dr. Tycast folds his hands together and leans on the table. “We’re working on a timetable here. It’s not my usual practice to keep things from you, but with Miranda’s recent, ah—”
    “Let’s call it an incident,” Peter says, elbowing me. Heat pricks the back of my neck—how can he joke about it? But then I realize he’s trying to make me comfortable, to make it how it was. Assuming we joked around before.
    Dr. Tycast sees my reaction isn’t negative. “All right, incident. As I was saying...” He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. He still has sleep bags under his eyes. “I know you have secrets. I know Sifu Phil trained you differently, Peter, as leader. He’s not here right now, but if you have a way to track Noah and Olive, I want you to do it. Can you?”
    “Yes,” Peter says, chewing on a bit of protein bar. While Tycast was talking, Peter uncapped both syringes and administered both shots. No alcohol swab, just a quick sting in my arm and it was done. I didn’t complain because I didn’t want to seem like a baby. He slid the other needle into his forearm, pressed the plunger, then set both syringes on the tray and picked up his protein bar again. Total elapsed time—six seconds.
    “Then find them,” Tycast says. “Keep Miranda on a tight leash.”
    “Hey,” I say. He said it casually, but that doesn’t mean I want to think of myself as a liability. Plus, I’m not a dog.
    Dr. Tycast holds up a hand. “Were you yourself, young lady, you would agree with me. You are...unreliable. For the time being, at least. I’m keeping you in play because we need you. Understood?”
    “What about all those guys with guns?” I say. They seem reliable.
    He smiles. “They haven’t