Chapter 4: Come and Get Me

Kathryn meets Quell, and discovers the discreet and horrible methods used to get rid of resisters.

--(())--

Kathryn Botts

A young boy lies on the ground in front of me. The other one must have taken off before I arrived. I can't detect his presence anymore. Black hair lies in layers over this one's face, so dark it seems to have sucked all of the color from his pale eyes. Small portions of redness blotch the walls behind him. It's like one of the stories from when I was a kid. Snow White, I think that's what it's called. As red as blood, they say, but in this case it really is blood.

"Hey, are you okay?" I ask with no response. It's questionable if he's conscious. "Can you hear me?" Nothing. His breathing is shallow, as if he is frightened by something. Fever is burning in his forehead. Whatever the other person did to him, it was more rough than I thought.

My attention turns to his necklet that fits a bit too tightly. Signals are coming from it, but I can't place them. A display pops up when I touch it. 

Full Name: Quell J Fontes

Sex: Male

Gender: Male

Age: 15

Birthday: November 28, 1999

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Gray

Tranquil Status: Hound

Medical Status: ERROR - ERROR - ERROR

Program Model: XX-Mortum

Mortum. I've heard of that somewhere. It was what they were using in the lab that day with that woman who died, Janette Kinkster. They scrapped that after the incident. Just to be sure, I check the raw code. Nothing is different. Even the stuff the rogue programmer added. The realization hits me hard. This is murder, both of them.

Commander Charin is trying to connect to my communication system. I answer with a irritated, "What?"

"What do you mean, 'What?' You walked out on your squad and from what we know, you're harboring a fugitive!" he yells.

I become rash in an instant. "These aren't fugitives, they're students! Students that have been brutally murdered by our hands!"

His tone is so calm and carefree it scares me. "Don't tell me you actually care about those animals. We call them the Hounds for a reason. Your peers acted rationally."

"I'm also going to act rationally, right now. Come and get me." I say as I cut off the feed.

I look down onto the pained face of the lone surviving Hound, who seems to be there, but not at the same time. He's in another world now. His dreams are taking him somewhere I cannot ever hope of touching.