Micah almost laughed. "So you're not just a cyborg, but a werewolf too!"
Her comment seemed to irritate him. He glared at her, his brown eyes flashing daggers. "You think you're so smart, huh? Well, it seems I outsmarted the infamous Micah Morgan. That blanket was covered with a scent that had easily transferred to you, a special scent that can last for days and can only be detected by a special device I have. So don't try anything funny now, because I'll still find you anywhere you go."
Micah was stunned and captivated at the same time. "Nice one," she muttered. "So, are you now going to turn me over to your bosses?"
"Still thinking about it," the cyborg replied curtly.
Micah was intrigued. She was at a loss. What was he planning with her? Suddenly she was filled with dread. For the first time in a long time, cold sweat broke out on her skin and an eerie sensation spread across her body.
They approached a crowded intersection then. The handsome cyborg in his formal security uniform motioned for her to cross the street with him and many others. She took the opportunity to try to slip away from him, slinking fast and getting lost amid the throng of smiling people.
But before she could get far, she felt a piercing pain shoot up her leg, making her stumble to the ground. The last thing she saw was the face of a pretty yet sullen girl, with dark brown eyes, looking down at her. Then, everything went black.
*****
For the second time that day, Micah found herself a captive again. Still in the yellow dress she had been wearing earlier, she woke up feeling dizzy and in pain. Her leg was throbbing, but there was no wound. There was no blood shed and yet she knew she had been shot by that girl. She reached out and rubbed her leg as her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness.
This time, she figured she was locked up in what appeared to be an old-fashioned cabin. The entire room was empty but made of thick logs. The lone window had been boarded up, but she could hear all sorts of animal and nature sounds that made her realize that she was in some forest. She'd lived a good part of her life in forests and mountains as a fugitive, so she knew the sounds by heart.
She tried to get up and go to the wooden door of the small cabin, but that was when she saw her feet had actually been tied to a wooden post that seemed thick and sturdy. She was able to stand and walk within a limited area, though, because the chain used on her was a bit long. It was a bulky metal chain wrapped around her ankles and padlocked.
Suddenly, the door opened. Five men entered, led by the cyborg she now greatly disliked. Behind the men was the girl she'd seen right before she had blacked out. She sauntered forward and stood beside the cyborg. That was when Micah saw the resemblance. This must be the sister, Shelley. She looked quite young, probably just in her teens, and was not wearing the cyborg police uniform. The other men were all in uniform, though.
"I see you're awake," the head cyborg said, with a grin. "I'd like you to meet my cyborg team. And of course, my sister Shelley, who always helps out with my projects and missions as she is training to be a part of our police force soon."
Micah narrowed her eyes at all of them. "Why are you keeping me here?" she asked suspiciously.
"You should be grateful," her cyborg captor shouted at her, then composed himself and said, "If I turned you over now, you'd be dead in no time. Do you know that you're one of the priority fugitives that we are supposed to kill on sight?"
"So?" Micah asked defiantly.
"So, you should be thankful that we're keeping you alive by bringing you here…"
"I don't care," she spit out.
The cyborg laughed and then motioned for everybody to leave the room. He strode toward her and leaned forward with a look of annoyance until their faces were just inches away from each other.
Micah's breath caught in her throat. Her green eyes widened and she couldn't help the rise of her body temperature. This man was surely different from many of the other cyborgs she had encountered, and fought. What bothered her the most was the way he seemed to affect her. But what gave her some satisfaction too was the realization that she seemed to have the same effect on him.
"You're certainly a handful," he whispered, his look of exasperation shifting into one of interest and curiosity. "I want to know more about you and why you're doing this. I want to gather information on your renegade team, which you will give to me willingly."
"Why would I do that?" Micah asked angrily, meeting his intense gaze and then feeling her heartbeat racing wildly. She didn't know if it was some sort of attraction or she just hated his guts. Even her anger was now quick to manifest and she was having difficulty controlling her emotions around this guy.
"I know you don't have any more family left so I cannot use them to threaten you," he began slowly, his face moving even closer. "I know that you probably wouldn't care less for your own life, although you would surely fight to the death. And I also know very well how passionate you are about what you are fighting for."
Micah waited for him to go on. His closeness was sort of distracting her, though, but she struggled to remain focused. Besides, his little speech was making her totally intrigued.
"You're going to give me all the information I want because I just might be able to help you with your own mission," he said, breathing heavily.
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. But more than the weird reaction of her body to this, she was most definitely dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?
He leaned in closer and spoke, his voice almost penetrating her skin. "Make me understand your mission, Micah," he said in a serious tone. When he took on that serious tone, his voice was intoxicating. She wanted him to speak to her more in that tone.
Micah tried to read his face, her eyes sweeping from his intense brown eyes down to the bridge of his nose and to the strong features of his jaws and finally to his tempting mouth, surrounded by stubble. She was intrigued… and lost.
"Release me first," she demanded. "Unlock this chain around my feet."
"No," the cyborg immediately answered. He pulled away, turned and began to walk away, finally making her breathe normally.
But then she realized that she now had to use her intellect rather than letting her pride get in the way. "Fine," she gave in loudly. "After I tell you my mission, you've got to unlock the chain."
He stopped walking. Slowly turned around, a smile playing on his lips. "Deal," he said, leaning against the nearest wall and folding his muscular arms across his chest. "Go on."
"The New Government is planning something really bad. It's going to destroy humanity. I want to put a stop to it."
The cyborg's mouth dropped open. Then, he was bursting out laughing. "You're crazy," he said, shaking his head in amusement.
Micah felt enraged. How dare he laugh at her life mission! "You know nothing," she seethed.
"Enlighten me…" he said, opening his arms wide in a mocking gesture.
She glowered at him. "I told you my mission. Unlock the chain now."
He looked at her incredulously. "You have to make me understand first."
"Look. I promise to explain further, but you have to do two things first- release my feet and take me seriously."
When the cyborg saw that she was dead serious, he stopped laughing, pulled the key from his pocket. He walked toward her and stooped down in front of her, and unlocked the chain. Without any reaction, she shook her feet and flexed them. She did some lunges to shake off the pain and discomfort. Then she stood up straight only to feel a laser gun pointed at her temple. She instantly threw her hands in the air. "I'm not going to run, okay! I can keep promises."
He did not remove the gun. "Just making sure," he said. "Sit on the floor, now."
Micah stood her ground, ignoring him and even stretching her arms and legs. She then leaned back against the wall and faced him.
He remained standing in front of her, but his face carried a serious look of fury. She simply smiled back at him. He crossed his arms and faced her squ
arely. "Fine. Go ahead. Speak."
She found his actions amusing and felt herself being pulled in by his charisma. She pushed the feelings aside and began to tell him of her life passion. "My mission is to expose the New Government. Do you really think feeding people the happy pill will actually improve their lives and make the world a better place to live in? It's just turning humans into robots, for Christ's sake! I know for a fact that you cyborgs don't take those pills but are brainwashed through chips inserted in your brains. Were you even aware of it?"
"Yes," he answered.
Her voice grew louder as she continued. "See? You don't even care because you blindly follow them. Those in power have plans to build a world of robot slaves. When the pills are not taking effect on some people, they kill them without any remorse. They have no heart for these ordinary men and women, or even children. What about rebels like me? They would not hesitate to kill anybody who crosses them or speaks against them."
"I know," he said, nodding in agreement. "I've been getting restless myself because of our rulers' ways. The men you met earlier feel the same."
Micah started at him in surprise. Then she narrowed her eyes, doubting his sincerity. He could very well be making it up or just leading her on to gain her trust. She would never divulge the details she had gathered in her research.
"I know you don't trust me. I wouldn't trust me either if I were you…"
She stared at him, astonished and apprehensive.
"We couldn't do our own research inside, of course…" he continued cautiously, "but we did get some data that might be of interest to you. We can exchange information… or we can choose to work together."
Micah was silent. After about a minute, she simply said, "I'll think about it."
*****
Micah woke up with a start in the middle of the night, sweating and panting. It's just a dream. She tried to console herself, forcing her breathing into normal speed once again. She could still picture her former best friend Elise, and other people she knew, smiling at her creepily, moving in on her as the New Government controlled them. "Kill Micah, kill Micah, kill Micah…" they were chanting in her nightmare.
When she was feeling calm again, she closed her eyes and focused on returning to sleep. She turned and twisted on the wooden floor but could not go back to sleep anymore. It wasn't as if she was not used to lying down on hard surfaces. She'd slept in far worse conditions before. Perhaps it was just everything that had happened that was bothering her. Or maybe it was what awaited her in the future.
"Ugh," she muttered, finally sitting up and rubbing her eyes. As her vision adjusted, she saw a fresh set of clothes that had been left for her. She changed quickly into the gray hiking pants and loose black shirt. She smoothed her blonde chin-length locks with her fingers and went to the door. When she tried to push it open, she was not surprised to find that it was locked.
She didn't want to cause any commotion so she didn't dare try to break the door down. She looked around for something to pick the lock with, but she could not find anything. Next, she attempted to peel off the wooden panels that had been used to board up the window. To her joy and relief, it worked. Her efforts were paying off and she could already smell freedom nearing.
Fresh air blasted from the early dawn atmosphere, giving Micah a chill. She climbed out the window soundlessly and was surprised to discover that there was no one around. She followed the nearest trail to the dense clusters of trees. The moon above her gave enough illumination so she didn't have any problem finding her way and watching out for potential dangers.
All of a sudden, a series of gun shots sounded, piercing the quiet night. It was followed by, what sounded like a female, letting out a bloodcurdling scream, filling Micah with unexpected terror. She shuffled faster along the trail, but the next screams of fright and pain made her pause and reconsider.
The sounds were coming from her left, so she turned to that direction. She could hear whimpering sounds growing louder. She was getting closer.
Under one of the tall trees, she found the cyborg crouched down beside his sister. Shelley's arm was bleeding profusely. "It's going to be okay," he whispered to her, as he took off the top of his uniform and threw it aside. He was wearing an undershirt which he quickly ripped off and wrapped around the open wound tightly.
A few feet behind them lay a lifeless body on top of dried leaves. He was wearing the same cyborg police uniform, one of the men who had been introduced to her. Why is he dead? Her mind was racing.
Her eyes went back to the head cyborg who had captured her. Taking care of his sister, he appeared to be a totally different person. It was his gentle, caring side showing. It made him so much more human than most people living in the new cities. It was genuine compassion, not the effect of some special drug.
Something drew him to her. The scene unfolding in front of her made her want to help instead of run away. So she decided to stay.
As she approached them, the cyborg whipped around, laser weapon in hand. Micah immediately put her hands up in the air. When he recognized her, he put down his gun. "What are you doing out here?" he asked gruffly. "Planning to escape? You're free to go now."
"What happened?" Micah asked, as she crouched down beside him. "Is she alright?"
"Shelley's going to be okay," he answered. "Philip's an ass, that traitor. He suddenly turned on us. The government probably paid him off to rat us out. I suspect Vince is in on it too. I have to find him."
"Okay, go," Micah said. "I'll stay with Shelley."
He hesitated before taking off.
Shelley was beginning to recover from the shock of what had occurred. She was still very much in pain, but she reached out and squeezed Micah's hand. Giving a little smile, she whispered, "Thanks. And I'm sorry for shooting you."
"Oh, no worries," Micah said. "It was painful, but at least it was just a temporary sleeping drug and not a real bullet."
"We never had plans of killing you," Shelley said. "Actually, my brother Drake had been searching for you for quite some time because we knew that you had a lot of valuable information that can help us with our own mission."
"Drake," Micah repeated the name, thinking of the good-looking cyborg who affected her so much. "So what's your mission exactly?"
"He'd always suspected that the New Government was using the cyborgs, not for peace and order but to keep people at bay so nobody would find out what they were really up to," Shelley explained, in between her heavy breathing. She paused for a while to rest before continuing. "Yes, we know they're up to no good. We just don't have an idea yet what it is they want to accomplish."
"But why are you training to become part of them?"
"I've always wanted to be a cyborg too, just so I could keep avoiding taking those happy pills," Shelley confided. "All our relatives and friends have become like… dolls… We can't even recognize them anymore apart from their faces and physical features."
"I know what you mean," Micah said, thinking of her good friend Elise. "That's why we've got to expose them while it's still early."
"But we need proof," Shelley countered. "And so many people will never believe us. Besides, as soon as we go out in the open, we're as good as dead already."
Micah had been coming up with a plan for months now. She didn't want to share it just yet so she kept quiet. But she could sense Shelley's honesty and desperation. She knew that this girl was telling the truth and that just maybe, she and Drake could help out in her mission.
*****
Drake could not track Vince down anymore. Even the others had gone, afraid to become fugitives or to be considered rebels. He'd already hidden Philip's body and was positive that he had not been able to communicate anything to their headquarters. Nevertheless, he was certain that some of their bosses were already looking for him.
As Shelley was healing, they decided it was best to lay low in the woods. During this time, Micah got to spend a lot of time with Drake. They talked a lot and eventually found ou
t that they had plenty in common.
"Our parents got into an unfortunate accident a few years back," Drake had told her one afternoon while they were hunting in the forest for their food. "But now I'm not so sure if it was really an accident. My dad was involved with the New Government's secret project- the development of the happy pills."
"Oh," was all Micah could say. She listened as he went on to tell her the story of how the cyborg police had made him stronger and braver as a person. Helping protect people gave him fulfillment and somehow seemed to bury the pain of loss further down.
"Must be tough," Micah remarked. "But from what I know, cyborgs are also injected with drugs. These are supposed to keep you loyal followers, right?"
"They integrated special devices into my body so that I could be stronger and faster. I got the abilities, but the brainwashing drugs they injected seemed to have been impeded by these devices. Later on, I noticed that my colleagues were becoming different than they were before. I was the only one who wasn't following blindly. There were commands I didn't agree with, so they gave me more of the drug. My body wasn't responding accordingly, but I didn't want it to seem obvious. They did tests on me and knew I was different. They kept eyes on me. And so I pretended to eventually change. I copied the others and after a while, they dropped their guard on me. That was when I began to do a bit of research."
Micah nodded thoughtfully, now fully understanding where he was coming from and why he was also determined to find out what was going on. At that moment, she knew she could really trust him and work with him closely. Somehow, that thought filled her with a warm feeling that she had never experienced before.
She found herself sharing more, talking about growing up in a community of rebels and about how she went on to become Renegade Leader of the group. She talked about the great pain of losing so many of her loved ones in various ways, and the immense agony of being a failure because most of her team members had been seized or killed. As she recalled all the bitter memories, pain gripped her heart and she realized she wasn't as hard-hearted as she thought she'd become.
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