The dreams came at him in twisted and disjointed waves, random images flashing in his mind.

He was in a strange-looking room full of screens and machinery. He went to take a step forward only to smack into glass. He reached out his hands to discover he was actually standing in a large tube.

His mind shifted and he was in the woods. Smoke rose from ahead of him. He felt danger as he moved closer.

Someone was crying, not in the woods but... somewhere. It echoed all around him.

He blinked and his mind shifted again, back to the strange room. A tall man with dark hair stood near the middle, his back turned away as he leaned over a consol. Without looking up the man pointed towards a door. "Urgent mission alert. Get your gear..."

A loud bell sounded, and he was standing in a hallway. Someone handed him something. He looked down and found in his hands a small doll. Half of it's head was destroyed.

Another shift and he was in a new room. Beside him was another man, this one much younger than the first. This man - teenager - was looking at some sort of device in his hand. "Come on, work!" he was urging it.

He turned and saw a girl about the same age. She looked at the pair but said nothing, instead rolling her eyes and letting out a scoff. She turned away and was gone in a blur.

The crying returned, now intensified. He shook his head and was back in the woods. Danger.

His mind shifted again and he was back in the tube. The girl from before was now standing outside the glass, pounding on it. She glared at him, one hand on her hip. She was saying something - his name, he realized, yet couldn't make it out over the crying - urging him to wake up. He put his hands on the glass and yelled for her to say it again, but she was gone.

A gun appeared, the barrel pointed right at his face. "Well, hello there," a man's voice snarled. The feeling of danger gripped hold again and with it a rising fear. Anger brewed. He felt himself freeze and saw the gun flash. He screamed and opened his eyes.

His memories flared and died again as he shivered in the cold. With shaking hands he rubbed his face. It was still dark. He had tossed and turned for what felt like forever and finally given up on sleeping, sitting up so he leaned against the sturdiest branch of the brush. Only then did his body relent. Maybe it was the exhaustion finally taking over which had allowed him to sleep sitting up like that. Regardless, what sleep he had gotten hadn't been enough. He felt worse than the day before.

He crawled out from under his sleeping place. Looking out he could see the faintest light of the impending morning bouncing between the trees. It actually looked rather nice. He thought of trying again to sleep yet reconsidered. With the dark clothing he was wearing, now would be the best time to try and make progress. It would provide him some cover.

Early bird gets the worm. He shook his head, allowing himself the faintest of a smile. Of all things for his mind to actually remember, why'd it have to be a cliché?

He pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the pull on his ribs as he moved. His legs and arms ached as well. He wiped his hands on his pants. Unfortunately his head had now joined the party. Gingerly he rubbed the back of his head and found it to be tender to the touch. Near his temple he felt a gash running along the side of his face. He wondered if it came from the fall. His thoughts returned to the two men from the day before. Maybe he really had been shot, but just not seriously?

More questions without answers.

He made his way back to the river. His muscles protested yet they'd loosen up soon enough... he hoped. He bent at the edge and splashed water on his face. The cold water caused him to gasp. Get it over with.

His progress was agonizingly slow. As he waded down the river his thoughts returned to the images from his dream. He wondered if any of it was real. Who were the people he had seen? Did he know them? If so, how? The first man; well he had no particular thoughts one way or another about him. What the man had said was strange though. The two younger people had been wearing clothing similar to his. Did they work together? Maybe they were out here somewhere.

Maybe they were the ones trying to kill him.

No, that couldn't be right. They'd been young like he was. Well, maybe was. He had no clue how old he was, actually. For that matter he didn't even have an idea on what he even looked like. He brushed back the thought before it brought more. No use focusing on that... and yet...

Enough of that. He steered his mind back to the people from his dream, the ones in the uniform. There had been one guy and one girl. It had been two men out to kill him... right? He frowned, trying to focus and recall the voices. They had been so distorted due to the roaring of the waterfall... and one had been rather faint... and more high-pitched than the first... maybe...

His foot slipped into another hole which sent him sprawling. He landed face-first into the water and let out a frustrated string of curses. Great; now he couldn't even trust what little memory he did have. He really was a mess. The water splashed into him mercilessly. Too tired to give much fight he let it while catching his breath.

Come on, you've had training worse than this. Get up! Hang on; training? That felt right. Maybe he was a soldier? Did that make sense? But in his dream he'd been in school. High school, his mind offered. Okay then, but what kid in high school was a soldier? He waited yet again nothing more came. He let out another frustrated groan.

Get! Up! Digging his hands into the bottom of the river he struggled to stand. His right leg nearly buckled, yet still he rose to his feet. One thing was certain; if someone were to come after him, he stood no chance to outrun them. All the more reason to keep going.

He had only taken a few steps before he fell again. Another string of curses escaped his mouth, these louder than the first. Hopeless. His fists smacked against the bottom of the river then recoiled as he hit rock. His breath hitched.

Come on. You're better than this! The voice from the back of his mind yelled to him as he rubbed his now-sore knuckles. But am I really, he challenged back. Again he rose to his feet, the frustration inside him rising as well. Tell me!, he screamed in his head, for what felt like the millionth time searching through his brain for an answer.

"Who am I?" he called out loud. His voice echoed into the surrounding trees.

There came no answer.