Survivor11 and Jonas slowly approached the camp where they planned on getting supplies. “You know, I think I need a backpack,” Jonas said, “I’m tired of carrying the bare minimum. Shoulda gone after those two-bit thieves when stole our packs the last time...” Survivor ignored the complaint about the loss of the last pair of backpacks. He didn’t think it was worth chasing down the thieves, when everything in the packs was replaceable. Survivor thought about Jonas’ comment and agreed, “You’re right. We have been needing new ones. See if Soren has some when we get to camp.”
As they drew close, Survivor11 noticed what looked like a body next to a container. Survivor ducked down behind a rock. Though he didn’t know what was happening, Jonas followed Survivor’s lead. “What’s up?” Jonas whispered. “I think I see a body. Proceed with caution.” Survivor knew these movements like the back of his hand. He had concluded a long time ago that he was at least law enforcement before he lost his memory, if not military.
Survivor approached, and discovered that it was indeed a human corpse. He touched it.
Cold.
Survivor signaled for Jonas to circle around the side of the container. Jonas complied and they prepared themselves to engage whoever, or whatever, was in the camp.
Survivor had to admit, Jonas was a good partner. In combat he was quite effective, which was impressive due to him being simply a restaurant owner before the disaster. Also, while Survivor constantly chastised him for being too emotional, he also had negotiating skills far superior to his own. This wasn’t surprising though. Two healthy doses of amnesia, several genetic mutations, and a term in cryosleep would kill anyone’s social skills.
Survivor counted to three and walked around the container. The area that was considered a market place was littered with bodies. In the center was Soren’s body, and sitting on top of him was a mangled man holding a sniper rifle. He looked vaguely familiar to Survivor11, but no names jumped to his mind.
Jonas saw the scene and clutched his gun tighter. He aimed at the man and asked, “Did you do this?” The man looked up from his contemplation. He gazed about the area as if this was the first time he had seen it. “Well... not that one,” he pointed at a random body nearby. The two were extremely put off by this response. Survivor wanted more context, but decided to stifle his curiosity. “Why?” Jonas asked, voice shaking slightly now, “What did these people do to you?!” The man stood up and stretched. The sense of familiarity washed over Survivor again. The man nudged Soren’s head with his foot, “Can you believe this imbecile refused to give ammo to me? I was created to be superior. I am superior. It’s my right to it.”
These ramblings sounded completely insane. The man looked at Survivor and said, “Oh hello! I recognize you. 11? Yeah?” Jonas looked sideways at Survivor. He knew that was the name that he went by, but he didn’t know exactly why this was so important.
Survivor flashed back to the one thing he remembered about escaping from the lab in France.
He exited a pod.
Threw up.
Saw a sign that said, “Survivor Experiment.”
Saw his pod number, “11.”
He began looking for a way to escape.
He ran past 10 other identical pods and then...
Nothing.
Survivor asked, “I’ve never met you before, how do you know my name?” The man laughed, “I don’t know your name. Only your number. 11. What is your name? Do you know?”
“I know the one I use now. Survivor11.”
The man snapped his fingers and hefted his gun onto his shoulder. “Darn. I thought you’d maybe know mine too. I do like the way you put the experiment and pod number to together to make a new name. Mind if I borrow that? I’ll call myself... Survivor9.”
As they drew close, Survivor11 noticed what looked like a body next to a container. Survivor ducked down behind a rock. Though he didn’t know what was happening, Jonas followed Survivor’s lead. “What’s up?” Jonas whispered. “I think I see a body. Proceed with caution.” Survivor knew these movements like the back of his hand. He had concluded a long time ago that he was at least law enforcement before he lost his memory, if not military.
Survivor approached, and discovered that it was indeed a human corpse. He touched it.
Cold.
Survivor signaled for Jonas to circle around the side of the container. Jonas complied and they prepared themselves to engage whoever, or whatever, was in the camp.
Survivor had to admit, Jonas was a good partner. In combat he was quite effective, which was impressive due to him being simply a restaurant owner before the disaster. Also, while Survivor constantly chastised him for being too emotional, he also had negotiating skills far superior to his own. This wasn’t surprising though. Two healthy doses of amnesia, several genetic mutations, and a term in cryosleep would kill anyone’s social skills.
Survivor counted to three and walked around the container. The area that was considered a market place was littered with bodies. In the center was Soren’s body, and sitting on top of him was a mangled man holding a sniper rifle. He looked vaguely familiar to Survivor11, but no names jumped to his mind.
Jonas saw the scene and clutched his gun tighter. He aimed at the man and asked, “Did you do this?” The man looked up from his contemplation. He gazed about the area as if this was the first time he had seen it. “Well... not that one,” he pointed at a random body nearby. The two were extremely put off by this response. Survivor wanted more context, but decided to stifle his curiosity. “Why?” Jonas asked, voice shaking slightly now, “What did these people do to you?!” The man stood up and stretched. The sense of familiarity washed over Survivor again. The man nudged Soren’s head with his foot, “Can you believe this imbecile refused to give ammo to me? I was created to be superior. I am superior. It’s my right to it.”
These ramblings sounded completely insane. The man looked at Survivor and said, “Oh hello! I recognize you. 11? Yeah?” Jonas looked sideways at Survivor. He knew that was the name that he went by, but he didn’t know exactly why this was so important.
Survivor flashed back to the one thing he remembered about escaping from the lab in France.
He exited a pod.
Threw up.
Saw a sign that said, “Survivor Experiment.”
Saw his pod number, “11.”
He began looking for a way to escape.
He ran past 10 other identical pods and then...
Nothing.
Survivor asked, “I’ve never met you before, how do you know my name?” The man laughed, “I don’t know your name. Only your number. 11. What is your name? Do you know?”
“I know the one I use now. Survivor11.”
The man snapped his fingers and hefted his gun onto his shoulder. “Darn. I thought you’d maybe know mine too. I do like the way you put the experiment and pod number to together to make a new name. Mind if I borrow that? I’ll call myself... Survivor9.”