gentle, soothing voice.
“StrikeForce.”
I thought harder. I could remember being in a cell in what I somehow knew was StrikeForce Command. Locked up, dampened, shackled to a chair. I could remember trying to break my shackles.
“How’d I get out?” I asked, unable to remember any more.
“We got you out. It took us longer than I’d hoped, but we got you out. You were undercover with them for a while. You gained their trust. That was the mission,” he added. “See if you can remember.”
I rested my head back and closed my eyes. Memories came to the surface. Fighting alongside a few of the StrikeForce members. Flying in one of their mini-jets. Saving a young girl who started fires.
“I remember,” I said quietly.
“They caught on to us and imprisoned you. I busted you out. But it seems like they fucked with your mind while they had you. Some of your memories were tampered with. We tried to undo whatever conditioning they put you through, but I don’t think we were able to get everything. They did other shit to you, too. Stuff to mess up your powers, because they were always afraid of what you could really do. I can’t undo that, but we came up with an injection that will at least temporarily have you close to where you should be.”
“We?”
“Well, really, I can’t take the credit for that. My associate, Lorne. You don’t remember him?”
“No.” An empty space in my mind, a blank.
“He’s a genius. He was able to rework an injection I’d been working toward with my former partner. But he’s even more amazing. He’s practically a magician in the ways of the mind.”
“Powers?” I asked him, and Connor shook his head.
“Just raw skill and genius. He gave you your memories back. At least, most of them,” he added with a shrug. “We did our best.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly. My mind was still racing. StrikeForce. Undercover. Imprisoned. Used. I remembered meeting this man, the two of us dressed in black, at night. I remembered being attracted to him. Kisses.
I remembered kissing Connor, and my stomach twisted. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, and I wondered at that. He seemed nice. Warm. Caring. The look in his eyes told me he cared for me, knew me.
“Who are you to me?” I asked him finally.
He gave a short nod. “I’m the leader of the team you’re on. Mayhem. We work to empower those like ourselves, those left behind by society in general. We work to expose the ineptitude and crookedness of organizations like StrikeForce, who can’t just leave powered people alone.”
I just watched him.
“We shared a kiss here and there, Jolene, nothing more,” he finally said. “We both wanted more, but we both also knew that it just wasn’t the right time. And then you went undercover with StrikeForce and… ” he trailed off, shrugged. “Time just wasn’t on our side, sweetheart.”
I thought that over for a moment. It felt about right, I guessed. I remembered enjoying his kisses. There was still an underlying sense of weirdness, but maybe we’d started fighting. Maybe I’d wanted our relationship, and it hadn’t worked out. That would explain the sour feeling in my stomach when I thought about us. Maybe I’d loved him once and come to hate him. It felt right.
“Can I get up soon?”
He nodded. “Lorne will be in soon to check on you one more time and give you your injection. You’ll need those a couple times a day. He’s working on making it a once a day thing, but he’s not there yet. After he looks at you, you can get up and get settled into your own room. Have a bath, whatever.”
“Okay.”
He stood there, hands in his pockets, looking down at me, and then he smiled, that dimple appearing again. “It’s good to have you back, sweetheart. We’re gonna make everything right. As it all should have been.” Then he gave a short nod and walked away.
A few minutes later, the pale guy, Dr. Lorne, came in again and showed me the syringe in his hand.
“You
“StrikeForce.”
I thought harder. I could remember being in a cell in what I somehow knew was StrikeForce Command. Locked up, dampened, shackled to a chair. I could remember trying to break my shackles.
“How’d I get out?” I asked, unable to remember any more.
“We got you out. It took us longer than I’d hoped, but we got you out. You were undercover with them for a while. You gained their trust. That was the mission,” he added. “See if you can remember.”
I rested my head back and closed my eyes. Memories came to the surface. Fighting alongside a few of the StrikeForce members. Flying in one of their mini-jets. Saving a young girl who started fires.
“I remember,” I said quietly.
“They caught on to us and imprisoned you. I busted you out. But it seems like they fucked with your mind while they had you. Some of your memories were tampered with. We tried to undo whatever conditioning they put you through, but I don’t think we were able to get everything. They did other shit to you, too. Stuff to mess up your powers, because they were always afraid of what you could really do. I can’t undo that, but we came up with an injection that will at least temporarily have you close to where you should be.”
“We?”
“Well, really, I can’t take the credit for that. My associate, Lorne. You don’t remember him?”
“No.” An empty space in my mind, a blank.
“He’s a genius. He was able to rework an injection I’d been working toward with my former partner. But he’s even more amazing. He’s practically a magician in the ways of the mind.”
“Powers?” I asked him, and Connor shook his head.
“Just raw skill and genius. He gave you your memories back. At least, most of them,” he added with a shrug. “We did our best.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly. My mind was still racing. StrikeForce. Undercover. Imprisoned. Used. I remembered meeting this man, the two of us dressed in black, at night. I remembered being attracted to him. Kisses.
I remembered kissing Connor, and my stomach twisted. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, and I wondered at that. He seemed nice. Warm. Caring. The look in his eyes told me he cared for me, knew me.
“Who are you to me?” I asked him finally.
He gave a short nod. “I’m the leader of the team you’re on. Mayhem. We work to empower those like ourselves, those left behind by society in general. We work to expose the ineptitude and crookedness of organizations like StrikeForce, who can’t just leave powered people alone.”
I just watched him.
“We shared a kiss here and there, Jolene, nothing more,” he finally said. “We both wanted more, but we both also knew that it just wasn’t the right time. And then you went undercover with StrikeForce and… ” he trailed off, shrugged. “Time just wasn’t on our side, sweetheart.”
I thought that over for a moment. It felt about right, I guessed. I remembered enjoying his kisses. There was still an underlying sense of weirdness, but maybe we’d started fighting. Maybe I’d wanted our relationship, and it hadn’t worked out. That would explain the sour feeling in my stomach when I thought about us. Maybe I’d loved him once and come to hate him. It felt right.
“Can I get up soon?”
He nodded. “Lorne will be in soon to check on you one more time and give you your injection. You’ll need those a couple times a day. He’s working on making it a once a day thing, but he’s not there yet. After he looks at you, you can get up and get settled into your own room. Have a bath, whatever.”
“Okay.”
He stood there, hands in his pockets, looking down at me, and then he smiled, that dimple appearing again. “It’s good to have you back, sweetheart. We’re gonna make everything right. As it all should have been.” Then he gave a short nod and walked away.
A few minutes later, the pale guy, Dr. Lorne, came in again and showed me the syringe in his hand.
“You
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