The Cleaner

The Register

When Oakley had first discovered the leather-bound folder containing the endless streams of names, he hadn't quite found the official letter at the front of the stack of pages. The first encounter he had with The Register was nothing but a quick thumb through. This time was different. His hands weren't as steady when he unzipped the folder and slowly turned over the binding cover. He took a deep exhale and took out the letter. The paper was the same thickness as the sheet of briefcase instructions had been. It felt heavy and commanding.

Scrawled in ink at the top of the letter were the words, "If they aren't on the register, they shouldn't be alive." It was almost as if the former Oakley needed affirmation of his task at hand.

The phrase didn't feel any better reading it now to when Oakley heard the Head of the Order say it on the video clip he had watched earlier. That same unease settled upon him. He delved deeper into the letter, the words on the page burning in his mind. Oakley felt perhaps he should write lines of the same phrase too, just so it was etched and always at the forefront of his thoughts. One particular line in the letter leapt out at him.

"Remember their faces. It is imperative you know who can and cannot remain," he gulped down a dry swallow, "I am told you never forget a face."

Oakley thought for sure former Oakley must have known these numbered citizens inside and out by now. Quite how he was going to do the same, he didn't know. He hadn't particularly mastered the photographic memory, but it was important now that he could get close to that. Oakley had long since determined that his chances of success in survival were going to come down to how much he could become the man he killed yesterday. The similarities between them made it somewhat easier. His killer instinct from his former life should also push him through. So why didn't it feel like it was going to be that way?

He let out an exhausted sigh and slid down against the wall. Turning the first page over, he studied. Citizen #1.

What remained of the day had flown by. It was now late, and in a very generalist way, Oakley had just about gone through everyone in the file. The Register didn't contain too much information about each citizen, which came as something of a comfort to him, but it meant if he was to carry out his new role successfully, he would need much more. It still didn't answer his questions about where to begin. He was still firmly in the dark when trying to piece together his next moves.