A voice in the darkMature

the leather ties around my torso. If I can get that set I can get loose and undue the rest. Luckily, those guys were in a hurry and the straps are pretty loose as it is. After about an hour, as the steady hum of the moving truck continued, I finally get the first set untied.

“Hello?” I hear a voice say and I am startled as I untie the last leather strap.

I stay silent at first.

“Who are you?” They ask.

I wait a moment and reply. “I um... I don’t know who I am.”

“Do you know who I am?” He asks.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Me neither. Why am I tied up?”

“I don’t know. I was tied up, too.”

“Will you untie me? It’s quite uncomfortable.”

“Sure.”

I start untying him and he says, “This is strange. I remember how to talk. I know I’m in a truck. I know I have a family. I remember all of these things but I don’t remember my name or anyone else’s.”

“Do you know why we are here?” I ask him.

“I couldn’t tell you. I’m drawing a blank,” he answers.

“Yeah... Yeah, me too,” I finish untying him and he begins to stretch his arms and legs.

“Oh yeah, much better. Thank you, uh...”

“I heard them call me number eighty-six.,” I said.

“Eighty-six? You’re a human being and they called you by a number?” He asks.

“Yeah, it sounds strange to me, too.” I notice a number tattooed on his arm. “Looks like you’ve got a number as well,” I say and I point to it.

“Number sixty-five.  Interesting,” he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Nothing, I have no idea. Everything in my mind is just so strange,” he says.

Just then a few more guys wake up.

“What the fuck?” One muttered at first and then he yelled. “What the fuck!?” And he began to fight the ties that held him in.

“Where am I?”  Another asks.

“Get me out of here!” The last one yells.

“We’re gonna help you, please be calm,”says number sixty-five.

“Who are you?” One asks. It’s too dark to really make out facial features of anyone. I can’t differentiate anyone except by the sound of their voices or numbers on their arms.

“I am not sure who I am. Does anyone remember anything?” I ask.

“No,” all the men say. More begin to wake up.

“What the hell is this shit!?” Pretty soon the truck was full of angry men. They start asking each other a million of the same questions. Some assume we’ve been abducted by aliens.  Other’s assume that this is just a strange dream. Another screamed that he’s giving up alcohol for good.

“Who the hell is driving this piece of shit!?” A guy yells and started banging on the walls.

Then, the truck came to a stop and everyone got silent.

“Aliens!!” One guy screams.

“Shut up!” Says another.

The End

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