Rude awakening

 

 

I open my eyes to a pure white room.  Am I dead?  Am I in heaven?

 

Jeez, I have never had a hangover this bad.  My head is killing me.  My brain is pulsating and pushing against my skull.  I try to move my hand, but it wouldn’t budge.  My mind is still hazy; I think that I must have just slept on it funny.  When I try to stand up, I find I cannot move anything.  Confusion quickly descends into fear.

 

Where am I?  What happened to me?

 

Then I finally look down at my body.  The shock almost make me pass out.  Where my veins should be in my wrist in replaced with wires.  My fingers are cold metal cylinders.  My torso is a quilt of flesh, metal and wires.  Where my legs should be are factory parts.  My heart pounds, sounding wrong.  I try to slow my quick gasping breath and try to remember what happened yesterday.

 

 

 

“Sam, Sam! Pay attention.  You have another drink.”

 

Finally, a customer, I think to myself as pore milk into the pitcher to steam and start up the espresso machine.  I get so bored just standing here.  I have been working at this Starbucks for a year and found that I prefer a rush than a ghost town.  What makes it worse today is that Tim is the manager today.

 

A huge woman in high heels and bright pink pan-suit waddles up to the register. 

 

“Sam, you are cueing that drink in the wrong order according to Starbucks’ play book.  Syrup then shot.”

 

F**k him.   At least tonight will make up for this boring day.  It is my birthday today; I am looking forward to getting s**t faced with my boyfriend. 

 

 

 

Suddenly, I hear people talking at a distance. 

 

“I am surprised she survived the procedure.  She is by far not our healthiest specimen.  I think our survival rate has improved.”  said a man with a raspy voice.

 

“Well it is hard not to improve from a 1% success rate.”  said another man with a younger voice.

 

“Thanks, smart a*s.  She is heavily sedated now.  All the basic advancements on her body have been made.  The rest will be made once we transport her to our new base of operations.  I want you to get her prepped for transport.”

 

“You got it boss.”

 

Oh God. Oh God.  They are coming for me.  I gasp for breath and struggled against the restraints.  My vision is still blurry.  I try to scream, but nothing would come out.  The white doors swish open, and a young man with long black hair in a ponytail and designer moving flame tattoos along his arms, holding a large and frightening needle.

 

“Sorry, this is going to hurt alot.”

 

Suddenly, I am being burned alive from the inside.   My body jerks around like I was having a seizure. 

 

The white room turns black.

 

 

 

“Hurry, Harry, get me out of here before Tim finds a reason to be pissed at me and forces me to wipe down the espresso machine again or something.”

 

“He is cranky again I gather.”

 

“Yeah, I think he is having problems with his girlfriend again.  Where will be going out tonight?”

 

“Well, my darling, we have many poison dispensaries to choose from.  I figured we hit some places along Harbor Street.  What do you think?”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

I grab him by the arm; we wander the city, glittering in the dark night.

 

 

 “Marcus is it done? Over.”

 

“Yes, command.  Be out shortly.  Over.”

 

Poor girl, I think, looking at Sam’s frozen face.  At least she is lucky enough to be the first to escape this hell hole if things go according to plans.  Quickly, I detach her from the monitoring machines.  I take her legs and struggle to shove her in a body bag.  Once security finds she is detached from the machines, the bots will come.  And, I really don’t want to be here when the bots come.  It takes all my strength to lift her onto the gurney.  God, those implants weigh a ton.  Once the bionic girl is on the gurney, I place my hand on her jaw and ensure that the medication is doing its job.  I cannot read her heart beat, but I know she is still alive.  Enough to trick the sensors into thinking she is dead.

 

I sigh and begin to push the heavy cart.  This hallway seems to never end.  Finally, I see the security kiosk in front of the morgue.  I give a strained smile guard as he scans my pass.

 

“The mortician will be with you shortly” says the guard without a modicum of interest.

 

I push the gurney through the enormous white double doors.  The minutes feel like hours as I wait in silence.  Breath, I think.  Breath.  All may work and sacrifices will be for not if I am caught here.     Finally, a queer man wearing oversized glasses and face covered in scars approaches.  He speaks slowly and melodically.

 

“Got another dud I see.  A shame, she is a pretty one.  At least I get the pleasure of looking under the hood” says with a wicked grin.

 

“Wants her to be sent to headquarters.  Whole that is.”  I say, trying to hide my disgust.

 

“Fine, fine, fine.  Why must everyone ruin my fun?” the doctor says licking his lips “Ah, I don’t get to play with her.  Such a shame.  Alright, let me scan her to make sure you didn’t f**k up and send me an almost dead.  Did a post mortem autopsy once and the copse began screaming.  Drove me nuts, so I had to bash her skull in.  Upper management was not happy about that one.”

 

The mortician pulls out a handheld device.  The device projects a red light over Sam’s body. 

 

“Dead as a doornail.” mumbles the mortician.

 

Marcus shots a strained smile once again at the mortician who then stumbles over to his desk, scribbles on a form and hands it to Marcus. 

 

“Bye, young man.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

The mortician chuckles and slowly makes his way back into his office.  Marcus feels anger swell in his chest.  Taking a deep breath, he continues with the plan his superiors painstaking conceived. He pushes the gurney toward the transport bay.  He makes small talk with some of the staff that disgusts him the least.  When his a few hundred feet from the transport bay door, a siren blares; red lights flash. 

 

F**k, I have been tipped off.  So much for subtly.  

 

I slam the gurney into the bathroom and lock the door.  Pulling out a syringe concealed in his jacket, I look down at this girl’s still face.  Her face if one of the few unaltered parts of her body.  Piercing holes on her nose and ears are still visible.  Unconscious, she actually looks at peace.  He raises the needle filled with pure adrenaline above her chest and slams it down.  Sam awakes wide eyed and coughing.  Her eyes become wide with terror. 

 

No time to calm her.

 

He grabs her by the paper hospital shirt, pulls her up on her feet and looks her right in the eye. She struggles to stand upright and holds onto the sink.

 

“We have to fight our way out, and I cannot do that with you immobilized.  You do what I say, when I say it.  Understood?”

 

“Yee-Yee…Yes,” Sam stutters.

 

 

 

Marcus speaks into the communicator as I try.  I turn on the tap and splash some water in my face.  I look at my face. 

 

At least my face is still me, even though I am bald.

 

 

Then, I dare to look down at my body.  As I remembered, my body is quilt of flesh and metal.  My stomach turns, and I try to stop myself from throwing up.  She looks over at Marcus’ stern face as he continues to talk into the communicator. 

 

I have to be stronger than this.  I think he is risking his life for mine.  At least, I hope he is.   I can freak the f**k out about the s**t they did to me later.

 

I push off the sink and am surprised to find I can walk upright now.  I notice Marcus smile a little as he talks into the microphone.  Several seconds later when he is finished talking, he turns to her.

 

“Here is the plan.  We don’t have enough fire power to entirely fight our way out.  And we have to get to the garage, and I am sure they know that.  What they don’t know is that we already have forces outside.  I have to provide a distraction.  I need you to hide where I tell you to hide immediately when I tell you.”

 

Feeling I would be unable to hide the fear from my voice, I give him a stern determined node.  He pulls out a bizarre looking gun and holds a round shaped object in his left hand.  He looks into her eyes with his sterling blue eyes and shouts,

 

“Get ready to run down the hall.”

 

He unlocks the door, swings it open, and throws the object.  I get a glimpse of a dozen or so patrols in the narrow hallway before the objects begins to disperse a thick fog.  I sprint down the hall pushing faceless body out of the way.  I easily topple these muscular solders and run faster than I thought was possible.   When I reach the door, Marcus is nowhere to be seen.

 

“F**k!  He left me.”

 

Despite, I bang on the door.  Dents are lefts in the metal, but it will not open.  Suddenly, Marcus appears from the fog, gasping for air. 

 

“Get out of the way,” he pants.

 

He pulls out another object out of his jacket with a seemingly infinite number of pockets.

 

“Next time, wait up for me,” he grunts.

 

He sticks a rectangular object with a lot of lights onto the door and pulls her away.  The door explodes, and he tries to pushes me through. 

 

“Stay behind me,” he shouts after they go through the small entryway of molted metal.  Fog spills out from the door.  The transport bay is enormous.  It looks like it could hole two spaceships easily.  The view of most of the bay blocked by shipping container. 

 

“Lucky for us, the shipping containers create a bit of a maze, so they will have more trouble finding us.  That is, until we want to be found.”

 

I follow Marcus in between containers.  They twist and turn for several minutes until Marcus stops abruptly, almost tripping her up.  He brings a finger to his lips and pulls out the strange gun.  He pops around the corner and a shouts out a laser that silently pierces the skull of a patrol.  Sam is horrified.  She hasn’t even seen a dead body before now, not to speak of a violent killing.  Blood gushes out of the head of the dead man. 

 

“For God’s sake, we do not have time for this.  We have to go. Now.”  Marcus whispers into her ear.

 

He keeps walking, and she follows, more shaken than she has been all day.  She is so turned around this point that she doesn’t even know which direction is the entrance they entered from.  However, Marcus seems sure and determined.  As they swiftly walk, he frequently looks down at his watch.  Like before, Marcus stops suddenly.

 

“We are here.”

“Where would that be?”

“Where I need to make a little noise,” he grins.

 

He pulls out his gun and starts shooting at the ceiling.  At first, only little holes are visible in the ceiling.  Then, these holes steadily expand and meet leaving a gapping opening in the ceiling.  She hears the pounding footsteps of patrols on their way.

 

“Hide in that container now.”

I hesitate, wondering if this man has gone out of his mind.

“I said now! They will either kill you or perform more experiments.  You have to trust me.”

Frowning, I slip into the container he pointed too.  I curl up in a ball and waits.  It is silent for a few minutes that feel like hours.  Shouting and shooting violently break the silence.  Although I am frightened, I cannot stand hiding while Marcus does all the fighting for me.  Then, she hears a blood curling screaming coming from Marcus.  I exit my hiding place and finds him on the ground and bleeding profusely from his shoulder.  Anger overwhelms me and feels like fire in my veins.  Without thinking, I peak over the storage crate acting as their cover, holds her hands out, and shouts “Stop!” I suddenly notice my hands have transformed into dual cannons.  These cannons glow with a bright white light.  Then, a huge laser shoots out of my hands and takes out several patrols.  Without thinking, I continue shooting lazers, somehow hitting every target.  Once all of the attackers were taken out, I gasp for breath.  The cannons collapse and turn back into robotic hands.  Blinded by fear and desperation, I didn’t really see what I was doing.  Now, I look at the destruction I caused in horror.  I destroyed many of the crates and started several small fires.  Scorched bodies and dismembered limbs litter the ground.  I collapse to the ground and vomit. 

 

I then hears a crash from above.  A bright red hover transport descends from the hole that Marcus created earlier.  Unsure how to make my hand cannons reappear, I scramble over to Marcus and grab the laser gun beside him.  Before she could shot, Marcus growls “Don’t.”  I look over at him confused.  I sees the back door to the vehicle being swung open, and ropes are dropped down.  Two shadows slide down the rope.

 

“Who are they?” I ask.

“My people.  They are here to save our asses.” Marcus says with a grimace of pain and relief. 

 

They wait for the approaching shadows; I am still clutching to the gun.  A man and a woman are visible a few hundred feet down one of the many hallways between the crates.  As they get closer, Sam can see more details.  They are both in the same all black uniform and are equipped with the same weapon as Marcus.  The man is burly with a thick and messy black beard; the woman is short and curvy with curly short blond hair. 

 

“Marcus! Marcus!  Are you ok!?” shouts the woman.

“He is shot in the shoulder.” I shout back.

 

When the two finally reach them, they glance at me like a passing curiosity and go over to Marcus.  The woman pulls out gaze from her jacket and bandages his wound.

 

“Alaina, we don’t have time for this.  We have to get out of here before reinforcement arrive.” 

“I cannot have you passing out on the way to the transport.  And, stop squirming.”

“Get the girl to carry me.  They augmented her strength.”

 

The man glanced over to me, appearing to be unhappy about Marcus’ suggestion. 

 

“No, girl doesn’t know her own strength. Tom and I will carry you over.”

 

Silently and swiftly, we walk toward the transport.  Afraid to anger my rescuers, I keep quite even when we reach the transport.  The transport lifts off quieter than I expect.  We hover through the opening Marcus made.  Alaina says to keep us hidden, we must keep all the lights off on the transport.  I try to stay awake but I suddenly feel more tired than I have ever in my life.  I fall asleep on the uncomfortable steel bench.