Chapter 9

Please Remember

"Miss? Miss? Can you hear me?"

I blinked, struggling as the bright light blinded me. My eyes slowly adjusted, and I saw a kind old face over me.

"Easy, gal," he said, helping me to sit. I looked around. I was on the shoulder of a quiet road somewhere, a large rig pulled off to the side. It was nighttime, but it was starting to lighten on the horizon. Nearly dawn.

"What happened?" I asked, rubbing my head.

"Thought you could tell me," the Trucker said, handing me a bottle. "It's just water," he assured me, as I eyed it suspiciously. "Saw the car on the side of the road there and stopped to have a look. Found you here on the ground."

I glanced past him, seeing the blue truck parked further down the road behind the rig. I reached up and touched my head. It came away red and sticky.

"Yeah, looks like you got a good knock to the head," he said. "Doesn't seem to be bleeding anymore though. A couple of bruises too, but they look a bit older..."

"Thanks," I said. I stood up, wobbled a bit, but steadied myself. "I should be fine to drive to the next town from here."

"You sure?" He looked back at the truck. The front two tires were flat. But that wasn't the strangest part. The truck wasn't familiar at all. I had no idea whose it was.

"Or maybe not..." I said. "Where am I exactly?"

"Out on 99, about an hour north of Sacramento."

"As in California?" I asked, rubbing my head. What was going on?

"Of course. Where else?" he asked, looking puzzled. "How about I drop you at the next town over? We can call someone to get you, or maybe the police...?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. A lift would be great, I can call a friend to pick me up. Just let me grab my stuff out of the truck."

He left me to myself as I wandered to the truck, my head still spinning. I opened the driver's door, and looked around the seats. There was no phone, no wallet - nothing which helped me work out why I was there. I searched the glove compartment. I pulled out some registration

papers. There was a name at the top, with an address. Nero Padilla from Stockton, CA. Stockton was a neighboring town to where I grew up as a child. But I hadn't been there in 15 years. Hell, I hadn't been in this country for 15 years.

I grabbed the papers, and stuffed them into my pocket. I found a few $10 notes in the door, and took them along with some loose change. I closed the doors and locked the truck.

"All ready to go?" the trucker asked as I climbed into the cab next to him.

"Let's go."

I waved the truck off as it pulled back onto the main road. I walked back to the roadhouse behind me, and sat down at a computer in the corner. I opened the internet and searched for the name Nero Padilla, with the address listed on the registration. It came up with a Californian phone number. I scribbled the number down on a piece of paper, and walked over to the pay phone at the back of the diner.

I dialed the number in, and waited while it rang.

"Hello?" a voice with a thick Spanish accent answered.

"Hi, is this Nero?" I asked. "Nero Padilla?

"Speaking?"

"This is going to sound a little strange," I explained, "but I have your truck."

There was a long pause. "Georgia, is that you?"

"Umm, yeah," I said. "You know who I am?"

"Of course I do. Georgia, it's me, Nero," he said, sounding confused now. "I'm dating Gemma, remember?"

"Gemma..." I tried to remember. A women's face from my childhood came to mind. "Gemma Teller?"

"Georgia, are you ok sweetheart?"

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. "I'm not sure. Sorry, all of this is just a little confusing right now. I'm not sure exactly what's going on."

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I'm at a truck stop. Randy's Road House," I read off the sign outside. "It on 99, an hour past Sacramento."

"Ok, hang tight, carnala ," he said. "I'll call Jax and let him know you're safe."

"Jax?" Jax Teller had just finished high school when I last saw him.

"Just stay where you are, hGeorgia," he assured me, sounding worried. "We're coming to get you."

A couple of hours later, I sat in the corner booth in the diner, finishing off the pancakes in front of me. The sun was just to starting to rise over the horizon, and a glowing warmth was filling the diner. I heard the rumble of bike engines and I looked up. Two motorbikes pulled up outside the diner, followed by a tow truck from Teller-Morrow Automotive, with Nero's truck hooked to the back. Two guys climbed out of the tow truck. One was Mexican by the looks, the other had dark black hair and was wearing a cut - he was a Son. The two guys who climbed off their bikes, also Sons, walked over to the van, spoke to the others, and entered the diner. They spotted me in the corner, and walked over to me. The younger of the guys, the bald one, was slightly ahead of the others and reached me first. Before I could say anything, he pulled me towards him and kissed me. I pushed away hard, and slapped him across the cheek.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I asked, completely shocked. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

"Georgia, what's wrong?" he asked, surprised. "It's me, Happy."

"Look, I don't know who you are or what the hell is going on. All I know is I woke up on the side of the road a few hours ago with a split head, next to a car I don't own, in a country I haven't been to in fifteen years. So can someone please tell me why the last this I remember is being at home in Geelong?"

The older of the guys held his hands up. "How about we just sit down and talk? You can ask us anything, and we'll try and fill in the blanks."

I looked around at the men in front of me, and nodded, sitting back at the table in the corner. The older guy who had spoken sat next to me, the Mexican guy sat on the other side, and directly across from me sat the creep who had kissed me. Happy, he had said. The guy with the black hair stood next to the booth protectively.

I put my hands on the table, twirling my fingers around each other. "So I know all of you?"

The guy next to me nodded. "I'm Bobby. I knew you when you were just a little girl."

"I remember you," I said, his face familiar, "But from when I was little. And I'm pretty sure I remember you too. I can't remember your name, though."

"That's Tig," Bobby explained.

"You used to call me Tigger when your were a kid," he said with a smile.

"This is Nero, you spoke to him on the phone," Bobby said, gesturing the the Mexican guy at the table.

"I presumed as much," I said. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the keys. "Sorry about your truck."

"So you don't know anything about how you got out here?" Nero asked. "You don't remember what happened yesterday?"

I shook my head. "Honestly? I feel like I'm in a dream. I know I should remember you all, but I have no idea what's going on. As far as I'm aware, the last time I was in America, I was ten years old. I'm not even sure why I'm here."

Happy reached across the tale for my hands, and I instinctively pulled them back before he could reach them. This guy looked rough, and didn't exactly exude warm and fuzzy.

He panicked and pulled his hands back and folded them in front of himself. "You came here about two weeks ago, worried about Opie," he explained calmly. "Since then, you've been here, with the club."

"The club? As in the Redwood charter?"

He nodded. "You were attacked two days ago by some Nomads. They beat you up pretty bad. Two of them were killed, but the other..."

"The other held you and Nero hostage, along with Lyla," Bobby explained.

"Lyla is Opie's wife," I remembered from our phone calls.

Bobby nodded. "Frankie took some money, made a run to leave town. He took you with him at gunpoint, aftere he shot Lyla in the leg."

"Is she ok?" I asked.

"She'll be fine," Nero assured me. "We wanted to follow you, carnala, but he swore he would kill you if we did."

I sighed and pulled my hair back from my face. "I can't think straight. Can you guys give me a lift back to wherever I've been staying?"

"Of course," Bobby said, standing up. "I'll see if Tara can meet us when we get back."

"Tara?"

"Tara is Jax' old lady," Happy explained. "We watched their two boys, Abel and Thomas the other day? She's a doctor, so she'll be able to tell us ..."

"Whether I'm crazy or not?" I asked. "Whether I'll ever be who you guys know me as?"

"We still know you, G. And you'll remember us, I know you will. I'll show you." Happy's stare was intense, but he seemed to be a very intense man. "Let's get you home so we can figure this out. Bike or truck?"

"I don't think I'd be able to stay up on a bike right now," I admitted, my head still spinning. "The truck is fine."

He nodded, and held the door open for me when we got back to the truck. I climbed into the middle, and Nero climbed into the passenger seat next to me. I was a bit surprised to see Happy not riding back. Tig was now riding his bike, while Happy slid into the driver's seat.

"You're not riding?" I asked, as he started the truck.

He shook his head. "Nah, rather drive back. Tig was itching for a ride anyway."

We headed back along 99, town after town whizzing by as we drove. I stared out the window, lost in my own thoughts. I racked my brain, trying to find any memory that made sense.

I sighed. Nothing I had seen today made any sense at all. In the back of my mind, I felt like these people were important, but how could they be important when I had no idea who they were. I glanced at Happy. His eyes were fixed to the road, and he looked like he had a million things bouncing around in his head.

"One question, Happy," I said resting my head back on the seat.

"Sorry?" Happy turned to me, his eyes leaving the road for a second.

"You look like you have a million questions going through your head. Pick one."

He thought about it for a moment before asking. "Do you remember who you are?"

"Of course I do," I sad, confused. "I'm Georgia Moran."

Happy shook his head. "That's just a name. It doesn't say anything about who you are. Do you know the fierce warrior, the fight you have? Do you know how gentle your heart is, your unwavering loyalty?"

"I don't know about all that," I said, looking at my hands. "I'm not that spectacular."

"Then you don't remember who you are," he said, dropping his hand from the steering wheel. He reached out as if to grab my hand, but quickly put it on his lap. "I know you. I've seen it all and more. I've seen the broken child, the hurt and pain. And I've also seen the fire it has lit inside of you. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure you remember that fire when you forget."

I watched Happy as he looked at the road. Maybe he was intense, maybe he was scary. But in this strange world I had woken up in, full of unknowns, one thing suddenly became clear. I was not alone.

I reached across to Happy's lap, and put my hand on his. He turned his over, and squeezed mine tightly. His eyes never left the road, but I saw the corner of is mouth raise slightly.

I leant back with my head resting on the back of the chair and closed my eyes. It wasn't long before the rocking of the car had put me to sleep.