by Collin Earl
*****
Skinny Richard was like no one Sam had ever met. A personality and person so unique it was borderline exquisite. Ironically enough, this was exactly the same feeling he had cultivated the first time Sam met him so many years ago. Fat Richard had been so different in personality and action he couldn't help but stand out. Skinny Richard was more of the same, but in different ways. Incredibly different ways. Violence, aggression, and the single-minded certainty he displayed burned at her nerves and inflamed her fight or flight response. He intrigued her even while he instilled the fear of god in her. Yet she followed him without hesitation. She did not know why.
This whole escape experience was surreal. If she didn't know any better she could have sworn they were in an especially intense game of Combat Tag. This feeling was only exacerbated when Sam actually saw weapons of similar make and model to the ones used at the combat range. The weapons didn't act the same though; there were no minuscule doses of incapacitating energy or subdued prickling feelings after the light blue balls of semi-solid energy hit. No, these weapons used by these soldiers, these... invaders, were just as their title indicated. These were weapons; equipment designed to kill, and they fulfilled their purpose enthusiastically.
Soldiers continued to appear, only to be cut down by Richard with his archaic weapons. It was miraculous on every plane of reality, imaginary or otherwise, and it seemed every encounter would end the same. A gunshot wound to the head. Sometimes Richard fired once, sometimes as many as four times. Regardless of who stood before him they fell like bricks.
It felt like hours had passed when they finally made it to the large underground building made to house personal transportation modules for those students privileged enough to have a personal vehicle. Richard hopped on a two-person open hatch rocket with the name --
"Dyson?" said Sam, scandalized. "You're going to steal his bike?"
Richard nodded and put on a helmet. He threw a second helmet to Sam. "He owes me for not killing him."
"Kill him? Why would you--" Comprehension dropkicked Sam in the head, closely followed by anger, then rage. She punched at Richard, who dodged her hastily thrown fist.
"You jerk!" she shouted. "That's why Dyson never actually hurt you, isn't it? ISN"T IT? Do you know how worried I was? How I thought--"
Richard was upon her, his hand over her mouth. Again he immobilized her. She thought that he had drugged her again but she didn't feel any sort of poke or injection. How was he doing this?
"We don't have time for this," he whispered in a deathly voice. "This is your last chance, Sam. Do you want to stay with me and live or stay here and die? Your choice. Make it."
She tried to take a deep breath but even that was hard. Richard seemed to feel and understand this. He released her.
"Sorry," she said. "I will be good for now on."
"Good," was all that Richard replied. "Now get on."
Richard and Sam climbed on the bike and sped away from the main building of Academy 676.
*****
I could feel the rumble behind my knees and in my thighs as we roared down the road. The power of the turbo-charged hydrocell engine screamed as he throttled the bike, the whine of the gears pitching higher and higher as the speed increased. Fifty, one hundred, one hundred and fifty kilometers per hour. I didn't know how fast he could go, but I could barely catch my breath as we pushed forward into the darkness. I held him tight, feeling muscle so taut it couldn't be real. My body and mind were like the aftermath of a warzone. I was hot. I was sweaty. I had bruises on my arms and shoulders from the grip of the soldiers. The soldier who had tried...who had tried to...I could not say it. I would not say it. Saying it would make it all the more real. I buried my face in his back.
I did feel comforted. Those soldiers wouldn't be after me, not anymore. They wouldn't be after anyone anymore. I felt tears form at the corner of my eyes, tears that were instantly swept away into the night lost to the wind and road. Lost like me.
My body shivered from the churn of rushing air pouring over my sweaty skin. My shirt was split, whipping up behind my back and exposing my skin to the torrent of the artificial tempest. The violence blocked my senses. I couldn't feel any more. I was numb; at least that's what I tried to tell myself. Actually, I was scared. I was scared of what might be following us up the road.
How many were dead? How many were gone? The faces of my friends, one after another, played over and over in my mind. Cammie. Oh, Cammie. You were so good to me even though I was from Partial Palace. Coda, dirty minded Coda, how will things develop in the future with you and Lacey? Are you in love? Are you ever going to realize Cammie's feelings for you? Are you even alive? Mother, oh my poor lonely mother. For some reason I can't-- I can't remember your face.
The bike coasted, coming to the crest of the highest hill that circled the valley. We slowed unexpectedly to a stop at a place where I could see the valley we had just traversed. The lights of the city and the twinkling of the stars fought to hold my attention. Both of them, the stars in the sky and the lights of the city on the ground, sparkled in their respective element. Beautiful.
More tears formed on my face. I longed to speak. I longed to ask the question and finally found the courage to do so.
"We can't ever go back, can we?"
He didn't say anything. He just turned to look at me, the faint glare of the bike's headlights barely illuminating his face. We sat there staring until he opened his mouth and said a single word.
"No."
He turned the bike and ripped down the backside of the hilltop to the inter-way. Once again, my breath was lost to the wind. We tore our way along the backcountry whipping along the road faster and faster. My worry seemed lost to exhaustion, fear, relief, and then sadness. I didn't know anymore. I didn't care anymore. I let me hands go of his waste feeling them catch the air as it rushed passed. I felt the urge to let go completely. I just wanted to be free from all of this. Without warning, the bike skipped and skidded. I opened my eyes as I screamed and felt myself lifting from the seat as we tumbled over the steep cliffside.
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