Regret

110 AE
Crimson Palace
Former PRD Territory
ζ-17

Regret

 

                “Why did you have to do that?” shouts Marcia, stomping over to me, “He never did anything to you!”  She shoves me but I just stay there, paralyzed by my own actions.  Tears start to well up in her eyes.  “Why?” she mutters, “I’ve already lost so much, why did you have to take him too?” 

                I still can’t move.  Maybe my epiphany was wrong.  Maybe I am a weapon.  Maybe everything I touch is meant to die, even if I don’t intend for it to.

                “Answer me!” she shrieks, tears rolling down her face.  She begins to punch me.  The blows don’t hurt, but they reach my soul.  It’s worse than her piercing gaze.  Her gaze wanted to see my soul.  Her punches want to kill it.  Maybe it deserves to die.

                I will not let anyone else die today.  I know what’s coming.  My comm link to Polemos was cut.  They think I’m dead. Reiterating my earlier thoughts from my bout with death, I am considered too much of an asset to give to the enemy.  Polemos will ensure that won’t happen.  And they will ensure that won’t with missiles. 

                I snap out of my despair and self-loathing and get to my feet.  I catch Marcia’s next punch.  “We need to go,” I say, “What’s the closest exit?”

                “I’ll never go anywhere with you �" you murderer!” she shrieks trying to wrestle away from my grip. 

                “Do you want to die?” I ask.

                “So what? You’re going to kill me if I don’t come with you?” she barks.

                “No, but if we don’t leave now we’ll both die!” I shout.

                “Then let me die!” she shrieks, “I’d rather die than help my father’s killer!”

                I can’t deal with this.  I grab her and hoist her over my shoulder.  She meets this with protesting and wailing.  “I won’t let you die though,” I say, and begin running.  I make it into the hall and look which way to go.  I turn left.

                “No not that way!” she shouts, “You’ll only go deeper into the Palace that way!”

                I stop in place.  “Are you being serious?” I ask, “Or are you just going to lead me in circles?”

                “Does it seem like I have any other way to foil your kidnapping plot?” she asks.

                “Listen!” I bark, “Polemos thinks I’m dead.  When they think I’m dead, they send bombs to blow my corpse to smithereens.  Maybe I deserve that, but you don’t.  If you don’t help me, then you’re going to end up as smithereens too.”

                My tirade of frustration seems to be striking a key with her.  “You are going the right way,” she says.  She’s not happy with this predicament, but then again, why should she?

                I start running again.  With the time I’ve lost from my sulking and Marcia’s arguing, I’d say we have two minutes.  Tops.  It’s harder to run with someone else along for the ride.  She’s not heavy, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like a pack-mule. 

                “Make a right!” orders Marcia from my shoulder.  I do as instructed.  Sharp turn. “Do you see it?” she asks.

                “The window?” I ask.  There is a window at the end of this hallway approaching fast.

                “Yeah! You said the closest exit!” she yells.  We are getting nearer to the window.

                “What floor are we on?” I ask.

                “Second,” she says, “Why do you ask?”

                “Cause I’m not stopping,” I say.  I jump and tuck my legs up.  The window pane is no match for my momentum.  It shatters and Marcia clings closer to me.  I see the ground, grass approaching, and �" touchdown. 

                I don’t let the landing say I’m done running though.  I need to make it a safe distance before the missile lands too. 

                “What are you doing?” Marcia asks, “We’re outside already.”

                “And do you think that’s safe enough?” I ask.

                “No it’s the plague!” she yells, “You’re running straight into a dead zone!”

                I don’t get time to reply to her.  The sound of a missile zooms overhead, followed by the krecheow! Of the explosion.  The blast wave knocks me over, but that’s about all it does.  I turn around in time to see the fireball dissipate and reveal the smoldering crater that was once the Crimson palace.  It’s sad.  That palace was the last testament to the strength of an entire nation and it was destroyed in a single instance.

                “Now look what you’ve done!” shouts Marcia.  She points to a visible line in where the grass stops growing.  “That’s the line that marks where the dead zone is.  We’re on the dead side of it.  You know why the grass doesn’t grow here?  Because it dies!  And now we will too.”

                I am a monster.  How can I fail so much?  I can’t even succeed at the goals I want to accomplish.  And the goals I do accomplish, I regret the most.  I don’t deserve to live.  Unfortunately, being here won’t kill me.  I’m cured.  I can’t die from this world.  Marcia will. 

                Wait, I have more of the cure.  She doesn’t have to die.  I could save her, but then I sacrifice my own mission.  They may need what’s in the vial to synthesize more, blood might not be enough. 

                Who am I kidding?  I don’t deserve to be that hero.  I don’t deserve to be that leader.  My services only seem to spread harm and discontent.  No one should be my friend, just out of fear of what I might do to them.  This isn’t my fight.  I don’t deserve to have a fight. 

                I pull the vial out of my pocket.  I walk over to Marcia, who has found a place to sob, collapsed on her knees.  “Hold still,” I instruct her, taking the needle and sticking it in her neck, the same spot Devivo stuck me.  She tenses up.  I push down on the plunger and inject the glowing green goo into her bloodstream. 

                “What was that?” she demands, standing up to face me, wiping the tears from her eyes.  Her gaze is worse.  Those eyes want to tear me apart, limb from limb. 

                I toss the syringe away.  “The cure,” I answer, “You won’t die.  The plague won’t harm you anymore.”  I turn to walk away.  She stops me.

                “You had a cure?” she asks, “Is this some sort of trick?”

                I dare not turn around.  I do not wish to face her nefarious green eyes again.  “I was about to die from the plague,” I explain, “But I received an injection of the same stuff.  I’m still alive if that’s testimony enough for you.”  I continue to walk away but she stops me again.

                “Polemos has a cure for the Plague?” she asks, “Why haven’t they released it to the rest of the world?”

                “I didn’t get that from Polemos,” I say, “It came from Dr. Devivo.  Polemos to my knowledge doesn’t know a cure exists.”

                “You mean the doctor guy I didn’t know about in my basement?” she begins, “I didn’t even know there was someone else in my house until today.”  She pauses for a moment, “Why were you sent here?” she asks.

                “That’s a good question,” I answer, “I wish I knew.”  I continue my march forward, but yet again, I am stopped.

                “Where are you going?” Marcia asks.

                “Away, far away,” I reply, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else, but it seems that’s what I was designed to do.  I didn’t mean to stab your father and I want to make sure that nothing like that happens again.  This planet has many empty places.  I’ll find one and stay there.”

                “So you’re just going to leave me alone?” she asks as I walk away.

                “I don’t deserve your company,” I answer, “I don’t deserve anything.  Death sounds too good even.  I am forced to live forever with my guilt.”

                “But you can’t just leave me out here with nothing,” she pleads, grabbing my arm.  She spins me around to face her.  Those green eyes are no longer malicious.  They are scared.  They beg for help.  They beg for my help.  “Can’t you just help me find people?” she begs, “I don’t know how to survive out here.”

                I can’t turn away.  It’s as if her eyes now have a grip on my soul and won’t let it go.  I can’t ignore her request.  Her eyes won’t let me. 

                “If we’re ever going to find anyone, we better go that way,” I instruct her, “We need to make it to the Shining Desert.  The last major outpost of humanity is there.  Rebirth City.  I will at least get you that far.”  I begin walking in the direction I pointed. 

                “Um… thank you?” Marcia replies.  It is an unsure thank you.  Unsure either because she is unsure if that is the correct thing to say, or she just didn’t expect me to cave into her requests so easily.  “What do I call you?” she asks finally.  Is that what she was so unsure about?

                “At Polemos they call me Zeta-Seventeen,” I answer.

                “That doesn’t fit though,” she protests, “Isn’t there anything else I can call you?”

                “Well there is one other name you could use,” I mention, thinking back to Devivo’s monologue in the underbelly of the palace.

                “And that is?” Marcia asks.

                “Atlas,” I reply.

                “You mean like the map?” she asks.

                “No,” I correct her, “Like the Greek titan.”

                “Well, right now, you’re being my map,” she says, “So Atlas will fit.  Lead the way, Atlas.”