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Darke

I had snuck into another room and was squirming through the vents toward the south side of the building when the alarm went off. The heat had me soaked in sweat, and with a flashing smile I think about how any tracer in the clothes probably would have shorted out by now. There is a vent leading outside a few feet ahead of me. Pressing my ear to the singing hot metal, I try to hear what’s going on below. They are cranking the heat up to try and flush me out, if I’m actually in the vents that is. I am, they just don’t know it. Finally I slither up to the slatted opening, the square’s covered in shade like slivers of metal. Getting a breeze, I smile and thank God for a relief from the heat. I’d already decided that I was going to stay in the vents till the alarms went off.

Trying to get comfortable, I smile at how cleverly I’d escaped. I was only unconscious for several hours, a normal person would probably been out for day or two … But then again when am I ever normal? When I’d woken, I had made sure not to show I was awake and used my other senses to get my bearings. Thankfully, my hands had already been hidden behind the nightstand and I was able to set to work. Working my weird, two layer thing, I was able to change the lamp into a disruptor, briefly disrupting the communications between the camera and the computer watching through it. The two layer thing is where I can sort of separate my brain into two working parts, one I give a job- in this case the disruptor- that half works on the job and does what’s needed and uses any needed memory. The other half is like a computer screen, I watch and listen and observe through this half. The easiest way to describe this is a computer, loading something in the background while you do whatever on the main screen. It’s weird but who says weird doesn’t work?

Suddenly the siren cuts, the silence almost oppressive. I look through the slats, below there’s several large air conditioner fans, and a little further off is a small lake were the sewage goes before getting processed. It’s like three in the morning as far as I can tell, the dark before the dawn. Shadows are moving in from the woods, men, soldiers. The silence is cut as helicopters swoop in, floodlights spraying light out the bottom. Both the soldiers and I shrink back, I mentally note they have night vision goggles and hope I make it to see the dawn. Debating on crawling back to be a hundred percent sure they can’t see me or staying and watching to have an edge, I watch as the few people inside the building clear out. A handful or more men head inside with their goggles and I’d bet the infrared would pick me up in a flash after the sweltering heat. For a moment I contemplate, they’d turned off the heat so the vents wouldn’t hide my presents, and all I need to do is find a place to hide out. Deciding the people outside would be crazy and would have already spotted me if they had their infrared on, I what for a moment to slip past.

They had started looking around outside, flashlights sweeping, and orders barking. It was mass chaos from my perch, but it was going to soon be hysteria. I smile at the thought. It I went down, got an outfit, and then ‘searched’ the roof, I could easily take a copter. The flashlights had taken a steady pattern, and a baby deer had separated from the herd. Using my claws, I twist out the bottom screws, and lift the opening. Hanging from the sill, I silently close it, then drop onto my unsuspecting prey. Landing perfectly on his shoulders, in foot immediately knocks him unconscious. After switching outfits, I slip him between the fan cages, out of sight and out of mind.

The combat suit is comfortable, the fabric smooth yet sturdy, and the padded areas not heavy enough to resist movement. The goggles covered most of my face, and hid my most recognizable feature. Though my eyes are well covered, my mouth isn’t, and there have been many a time that my mouth has gotten me realized through what it’s said and the smiles it creates. Slowly, I eased my way out from behind my ‘drop zone’ and played my part. I walked around the building slowly, looking for a latter … or a gap in security. Coming to the side that faced back to the town I found the latter, but I also found several men already there.

“Hey!” The leader barked at me, I walked over. “What are you doing here without a group? Do ya want to get snatched up and replaced by the target? Be the reason he got away?” I paled my skin and tried not to laugh at the thought of me replacing myself replacing the original man. “Well? I’m waiting.”

“I asked my leader if there was a group searching the roof, he said to go see and if so to help. Our group was over filled, plus he didn’t want me to be on my own twice.” I stand and wait for this man to try and decide my fate. I knew he’d let me, for one: why would the target dress up with the group and help search for himself instead of try and sneak out of the perimeter. Two: if I obviously wasn’t the target, it would be better to keep me than let me have the slightest possibility of being taken. I watched this turn around in his head till he satisfied himself, that or realized they were wasting time.

“Alright, fine. Radio your leader then you triple team with me and Logan. … What’s your name?”

“Roscoe, thank you sir.” I flash a smile, hoping he didn’t recognize it in the chaos. Then I turn and pretend to radio my leader. Turning back, I find every gun in the group pointed at me. Sometimes I really hate myself. Mainly my habits and mannerisms, especially the ones that no matter how many years go by I still can’t shake them, and even more the ones that get me caught. Rolling my shoulders, I pop my neck. Flashing a smile that makes even the bravest of them pull slightly back against their will, I freeze the leader who’s reaching for his earpiece with one simple action. I pull out the pomegranate from my pocket. The rest of the group don’t understand, but leaders are closer to Kit, learn more, know to fear me more. I waggle my finger that’s not holding the fruit, and let out a raspy threat. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Jack,” the leader says, his fingers hovering an inch from his ear, “put the fruit down. That’s an order!”

“Come on,” I growl playfully, a dark chuckle in my throat. “When do I ever obey an order?” My eye catches a short man in the back pressing a button, sounding the alarm.
A sharp sound pierces the air; I wince, and look around to see the scattered Virused fall to their knees in pain. I’m more powerful, and give a smiling grimace as I see all the leaders were Virused. With a pain filled chuckle, I grip the pomegranate between my teeth and leap up onto the latter, leaping up at least six feet with each thrust, gunfire below unable to adapt quickly enough for my new spots and speed. Worry jabs through me for a split second as I feel the fruit’s horrible tasting juice slither down my throat. But then I have other things to think about.
At the top of the latter I’m met by a girl who looks slightly familiar, and it sends a cold shock of fear through my heart and into my stomach. Her gun is strapped to her thigh, but she doesn’t need it, she’s holding a Taza. A Taza is the same as a Taser but it’s more extreme and would kill a regular human, but it would also knock me unconscious, or if we’re really unlucky- which it has been for me for a while- turn me feral. Determination locks into my gaze furrowing my brow, I won’t let these people suffer for my capture. I close my jaws through the fruit, and swallow. The rest of it falls to the ground, but I only need one bite so I can have control and still work myself into over drive. The girl’s eyes widen, mouth opening slightly in shock.
“Sorry,” my voice sounding ragged from the juice. “But this is for the good of you and everyone else here.”
Holding onto the rail, I swing my legs back and then forward like a cannon ball. I crash through the wall, my hold still strong, and my momentum swinging myself up through the ceiling. My feet barrel up from under the girl’s feet, throwing her over the side. Landing on the roof, I immediately start to run. Stealth is no longer an option, the secret’s out and everyone’s already turning their guns toward me, but it’s too late. Strength course through my veins, and speed whips around me and entices me to go faster, farther, and longer. But I must resist, get control of my drooling want for a thrill, I’ll get it but it will be controlled.
I reach the end of the roof sooner than I thought I would, and throw myself through the bullet filled air. Thankfully only two hit, and they’re actual bullets, one singes my side and the other clips my ribs right next to the first. I’m about to reach the helicopter, when I hear a large whoof and I’m suddenly incased in a netting and land on the copter’s platform. The wire of the netting digs into my skin, drawing blood, but I’m not going down easy, not without a good fight. Claws out, I slash savagely through the wire, animal instincts surging to the surface as I roar for freedom. Finally I’m kneeling with my hands on the floor, the last piece of netting slung across my back. Blood rolls down my cheek as I look up at a man entering from the cockpit. He lifts a long rifle at me, my glare holding a heart stopping intensity. Fear enters his eyes, it didn’t need to though, I could smell it on him. Pulling the last bit of net off my back I stand.
Fumbling he levels the rifle at my chest. I step side-swiftly, further inside, the bullet pinging off the side of the copter and then out into the hysteria below. He tries to reload but I’m already on him, I tie him up in the netting and head for the pilot. My eyes narrow as I find the cockpit empty, the machine hovering with autopilot or by remote control from a control room at their base. Turning back I see the man jump out with a parachute, barely able to use it through the net. Frustrated, I turn back to the controls and try to get control. The Cyclic is stiff and unmovable, and all the other controls are the same. I growl low through gritted teeth and stand.
I stand only to get thrown into the copilot’s seat as the copter awakes and starts throwing me around the cabin. It’s either jump and get caught or die/ get seriously injured. We all know the answer to that easy question. But unfortunately, so did Kit. Suddenly I was thrown into the seat again as we flew off, I gripped my arm rests and wondered if I should jump now that I was clear of the main mob of soldiers. I decided to wait until we were about to crash, get as much space between us as possible without having to do any work. But then Kit made a big mistake, he drove the helicopter straight toward a small lake, one with no streams or rivers going to or from it yet the water seemed to move. That meant one thing for me, escape.
Jumping from the copter I dive down deep, far beneath the impact zone, though the dull sound of an explosion above delivers heat to singe hairs along the back of my neck. Looking up, and working hard to stay below water, I watch the serine events above. Loosing oxygen, I swim against the current, and reaching the outlet of an underground river. Across the pond is the outlet of the pond, providing the way Kit would suspect me to go … or my unconscious body to go. Once inside the tunnel I fight against the raging river and finally claw my way onto a tiny out crop. Shivering beyond control, the one bite of the Pom already used up, and half drowned, I curl up on the tiny ledge, water sprinkling me, and fall unconscious. Fleeting thoughts hoping for freedom.



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MidnightFire said...
Dec. 1, 2012 at 4:51 pm:
This article is followed by Before.
 
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