Surge - Part 2

James woke up with a start. He sat up quickly, a little too quickly, in fact. He raised a hand to his head, dizzy. James took a look at his surroundings. He was in a hospital bed. In a hospital, then. But then why was there a man in front of him, wearing glasses, with a collar shirt and jeans on? The man, seeing that James was unprepared, put out his hand. “Whoa there, buddy,” he said. “People don’t jump out of bed after being buried in snow in the middle of the Artic.” James stared at him as if he was speaking French. The man stared back, then suddenly grinned. “Sorry.” He held out a hand, this time, in friendliness. “I’m Pat Micas.” James stared at the hand. The man named Pat withdrew it suddenly. “And you must be James.” Pat’s friendly smile turned into a serious frown. “James who?” Silence. Pat peered at James over his round glasses. “Do you know your last name?” James stared at him. Finally he spoke. “I don’t remember anything.”

Phil reached the end of the hall. Matt pointed toward the door on the right. “He’s in there,” Matt told Phil. He grinned. “Good luck.” Phil nodded. He watched Matt go down the hall, then disappear into a room. Phil sighed and opened the door. The room was dim. Inside was Pat Micas, a friendly doctor, and the patient. Pat saw Phil and smiled. “Thanks for coming in, sir.” Phil smiled back. He then turned to the patient, smile disappearing in a flash. “What’s the patient’s name?” he asked. Pat glanced at him, gathering his tools. “His name is James. That much we know.” Pat continued to clean up. Phil stared at him. “What about a last name?” Pat looked at him. “We don’t know his last name,” he said matter-of-factly. Phil rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you ask him?” Pat, obvisously frustrated, opened the door, and turned. “He didn’t know,” Pat replied. Shut the door behind him.