by Alex Fall
After checking everything in my pack, I slid the whole thing between my bed and a cabinet. Using the last bit of water in my cup, I swallowed a small handful of pills. With that medicine in my system, I would soon heal sufficiently, plus the medics here would stop their nonsense that they're applying to my body. Some of my special medications were dropping to the halfway point in the bottle. I need to find replacements or a place to create more of them. Running out of medicines specific to me is a bad idea...
Drowsiness began to resurface, so I hid a pistol in the drawer near my head, took a small dose of sedative and nestled down into bed. I'm not sure what Sharon was watching for, but as I drifted back to sleep, I found myself watching the curtains also. Imaginary voices and distant noises tickled at my ears as I tried to sleep. The voices mocked me, reminded me that I'm still a Program. The noises were those of pain and destruction. Occasional screams echoed through the halls, though whether they originated from the crowds of people in the assembly halls or from my own head was uncertain. I felt nervous and endangered, but for no real reason. The nightmares haunted at my mind, ready to tear into me as soon as I fell unconscious. When I finally did fall asleep, it didn't feel like rest.
It felt like escape.
Part 10
Panic.
There was so much panic, I found myself running. The halls were long, confusing, and unknown. There were no windows or exits, there were no people or machines. It was just me running as fast as I could to get out and get away from…
From...
I stopped my flight of escape. What was I running from? The panic that lurked in the shadows suddenly vanished, and everything felt almost foolish. I found myself standing in an empty hallway to some unknown dreamworld building. That's right, it was empty. I was running from nothing. I cussed quietly at the stupidity of the situation.
"Don't cuss."
I grimaced at the sound of Fake Arty's voice, but noted that he wasn't within sight. The first door I could find opened up to an unknown Jenji, sun shining on the empty, bleak, but somehow familiar cityscape, with Fake Arty leaning cross armed on a nearby brick wall. Every night, he appears in my dreams, regardless of where my dreams take me. Lately, the locations of where I find myself in my dreams have been getting slowly but surely more obscure and less familiar. I'm not even sure if this Jenji is one I've been to or if it's made up just for this dream.
"At least it's warm today, right?" Fake Arty said with a smile as a form of greeting. He opened his arms for a hug.
"It’s not warm. It's just more bearable than normal," I responded, completely ignoring his open arms.
"Well what kind of weather do you like?"
Moving out to the streets, I let the warm, pure sun soak into my cheeks as I scanned the nearby building tops. After quite the pause, I said, "Very warm...and breezy."
"Really? Breezy?" He responded cheerily. He was far too happy for this early in the morning, even after I denied his request for an embrace.
"Where THEY kept me, there were no breezes."
"Ah, that makes sense now. So....how are things?"
"None of your business."
"That doesn't even make sense! How can what's going on in your life not be the business of a figment of your own imagination?" Fake Arty replied as he ran over to my side.
"Because I don't have anything to talk about, nor do I want to talk to you." I punctuated my statement by walking off through the city.
"Erin! Why do you shrug me off?"
"I shrug off everyone."
Fake Arty ran to catch up to me. "Don't be closed off." When he caught up, he grabbed my hands and yanked me out of my stride. Still holding my hands, he stepped close so his quiet statement could be heard. "You need people to see how beautiful you are."
How dare you! Instantly, my irritation flared, and I threw his hands off mine and shoved him away roughly. "Stop...touching...me..." I sputtered in low volume.
He kept that stupid grin of his on like my anger was a cartoon. It infuriated me to no end!
"Are you mad cause we held hands?" He suggested.
"I'm angry because you always tell me what not to do and what I need!" I shouted explosively. "You constantly critique me, and then you try to flirt with me like a pervert! And why the *cuss* would you EVER call me beautiful? Are you freaking blind?!"
"Don't cuss," Fake Arty replied almost reflexively.
My anger snapped. I shattered the figment's face but... IT'S SO *CUSS* UNSATISFYING!! The raw anger boiled over within me, leading me to punch and kick nearby wreckage, screaming and shouting curses to the world. I made it a point to make loud noises with whatever I beat or threw, and eventually I wore myself out, ending with a punch to the remains of a cracked wall. I glanced through a window of the wall I just struck, spotting my figment watching me, as dandy as could be. Angrily, I again beat the wall with the goal of breaking it like I wanted to break Fake Arty, ignoring any pain my hands would give me. How dare that pest to show his face!
"Why not burn it?" His voice said.
Knowing that he was watching renewed my fury, so I shouted to the wall once more, then tapped into myself and found the power. Out of anger, I charged it, channeling enough concentrated fire to blow the wall apart, along with melting the ground and the ceiling, plus the wall, ground, and ceiling of the next building over. Stone and metal alike burnt up or smelted. My furious nature quickly simmered away, replaced with regret and pain. My shirt, or what remained of it, fell to the floor and the intense, mind clogging pain seized hold of my abdomen, chest, and part of my left leg. My shouts were replaced with quick, shallow gasps for air. Tears backed up and I choked instead of crying. Even in a dream, it hurt unbelievably bad...
"I'm sorry Erin. I didn't know how else to control you. It was wrong of me to suggest burning."
I fell back to sit on my heels, holding my arms out so they didn't move or touch anything. Tears rolled down my face as I began to gently cry in pain.
"I'm so sorry Erin. I never wanted to hurt you." Fake Arty approached from nowhere and took off his outer long-sleeve, button up shirt. I knew he was going to wrap it around me, but I couldn't get away. To my surprise, when he wrapped his shirt around my almost bare upper body, the pain slowly faded away and I was left with Arty's warmth and embracing arms. A stray patch of burn still hurt on my upper arm but with much less intensity than at first.
Fake Arty stayed next to me, holding me in his arms. Were my burns...gone?
"Your dreams are very vivid. Do you have photographic memory?" He asked gently.
"Maybe...probably so." My answer was unusually non-aggressive. The quick shock of pain reset my annoyance level in a way.
"Hey, I know you don't like affectionate contact, but this is just a dream. Let yourself have something good, even if it's just a dream, ok?" He reasoned. "When's the last time you had something good happen to you?"
Fake Arty's warmth was seeping into me. It felt nice, but being cradled in his arms...part of me wanted to break away just out of defiance. Yet, when WAS the last time I had something good?
"Oh I forgot to mention," he started. "You'll be waking up s-"
My head twitched to the side as I came back to reality. Knowing I was still in this clinical bay was frustrating. It's been three days now, and the my 'caretakers' still haven't moved me to a real room. At least today I felt good enough to safely venture out and explore the area.
As my senses returned and my head was waking up, the spot on my shoulder that throbbed from the burns in my dream somehow followed me into the real world. Also there were scents...and breathing? In the heavy shadows of the the dimly lit room, I figured out that what I was feeling wasn't actually pain, but Sharon's elbow digging into me. She had been sleeping in the bed with me despite the offers of those in charge to let her have her own room. We both knew that offer was a trick...
I'm getting out of this stupid clinic today. My patience for this kindergarten game of doctor had come to its end. With my min
d made up, I slipped out of bed and began to change clothes. The healing process was coming along quite nicely, but my abdominal burn and gunshot wound in my leg still reminded me not to be disturbed. Finally, off with this ridiculous gown and on with some real clothes, but first...protection. I pulled the body armor from my pack that I kept with me for so long and donned it for the first time since retrieving it. The rest of the armor could wait, so I went ahead and slipped on a gray pullover hoodie and black track pants.
My rough three hours and thirty-nine minutes of sleep put me at four fifty in the morning, ideal time for me to start conditioning my body. There was barely anyone in the main halls, and the horrid music was off for now. Soft accent lights would provide light through the halls and tunnels, flickering on as they detected movement. It wasn't long before I entered the fight ring area.
There was nobody here, and the light was faint. This is where I'll start training, in the shadows where no one can see but me. I went through a series of advanced stretches and then t'ai chi movements as best as my wounds allowed. Once my stiffness was gone and my body was ready, I turned to the padded corner post of the ring and began to beat it. I used a good amount of force, like I was actually aiming to hurt something, but I wasn't focused on gaining power for my hits. Before and even since I have made it to this city, I haven't neglected my physical conditioning so there is no loss of flexibility or strength that I needed to regain. Instead, I focused on speed and fluidity. First, I simply started with single hits, then I began practicing combos. With speed as the objective, I additionally worked on keeping up the power behind my blows. Speed means nothing if the hits do no damage.
My body went into an automatic routine as I practiced, allowing my mind to wander freely as I sharpened my combative prowess. It reminded me of the endless days of forced training when the Directorates had me. Even though I hated it, what and how much they taught me has enabled me to become a martial master. By keeping up that training even after the Directorates fell, I felt fairly confident that I was among the leading martial artists left on the planet. In fact, now that I think about, there is nothing above me.
I whipped around and open palmed the judges desk behind without even pausing to take a stance. The thick, old desk instantly caved in and broke apart in two halves. See? After all this time, I still have the technique to destroy whatever I want without even needing to pause and think about it. A wave of stinging pain quickly rose and faded through my stomach burn. The irony of the pain following the mental acknowledgement of my greatness annoyed me. I moved forward to grab a chair that wasn't bolted to the ground and hoisted it onto my back. With that, I climbed a set of stairs over and over again, ignoring the discomfort that came with using my leg.
Being lost in thought also meant I lost track of time. I don't know how long I was doing stair climbing before the lights flicked on. I silently set the chair down out of sight and laid down between the rows of seats surrounding the ring. I immediately regret this hiding spot...this floor is disgusting.
Peering between the seat backs, I saw a guard walk through the fight hall. He froze upon seeing the desk. "What the heck they doing in here?" He muttered.
He glanced around the room to see if anything else was out of place. I looked to the ground to hide my eyes, waiting for him to leave before I moved. Once he left the room, I took my own leave.
Silently making my way back to the clinic, I heard a slight scuffle behind me. I hurriedly entered the medical area, but before I got to my makeshift bedroom, a curious sound tickled at my ears. The sound of bare feet running down the hall. Small bare feet, and panting. Sharon...
"Sapphire!" She screeched as she came into view. She was clutching my pack and appeared visibly distressed.
Sharon took cover behind me as a bulky Greater came into view. A buff, large black man in a sleeveless black shirt and bulky slate gray pants rounded the corner and slowed his pace at seeing my blue eyes. "Give me that pack or get out of the way."
I squared myself to face him. "Excuse me?"
"Then get out of the way," he said as he gripped my shoulder to shove me aside. Sharon whimpered and ran into my bedroom. I grabbed the Greater's hand and twisted into a lock.
Applying pressure on a pressure point near the elbow, I leaned in to lock gazes with him. "May I accept this altercation as permission to make you an example for the rest of the gang?"
The crystallizing of water sounded behind me. Though the man grimaced from pain, his obstinate nature shined through when he tried to meet my gaze. "Don't make me kill you before the fight ring does." The chilled touch of ice bumped against the back of my neck. Like I didn't figure out that was coming based on the sounds...
"Wow, you're actually out of bed?" Rod's voice answered. "Marius, let her go."
The big man yanked his hand away and stepped back. At last, my gaze won out and he looked off to the side. Still giving him 'the glare,' I stated, voice dripping with sarcasm, "My god, the infamous Rod graces me with his presence."
"I'll choose to ignore that. Your pet Lesser is getting herself into trouble. Make sure it doesn't happen again..." With that, both him and Marius left the room. I peeked back at the young face that cowered away behind the curtain when she met my eyes. Is she really causing trouble? Why do I have to deal with this? I'm going to need some sedatives...
Entering the curtain myself, I found her sitting on the bed, clutching my backpack. "What happened?"
As if her visible anxiety wasn't obvious enough, her voice was distressed also. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! They told me..."
"Mean to what?"
"Let them have your pack..."
"You what?" My voice suddenly sounded more alert.
Tears began to collect in Sharon's eyes. "They told me...they told me I could have some food if I got something from your backpack. I'm sorry!"
What? What could they want from my pack? "What did you give them? What were they looking for?" I asked, my volume increasing.
Sharon drew a sharp breath from crying. She knew she was in trouble. "I gave it to them and then they gave me some food but I brought it back here and I saw them take your backpack so I tried to-"
"What did you give them?!" I yelled.
Sharon was openly bawling at this point, and to put space between us, she crawled off the opposing side of the bed while still facing me with the backpack between us. Her words came out extremely forced and reluctant. "The needles..."
What?!
I snatched the backpack and dug through it like a madman. I grabbed things and tossed them on the floor or across the makeshift room until I took out almost everything from the pack. Only one thing was missing...
"You gave them my sedatives?!"
Sharon tried to say she was sorry yet again, but it came out a loud, ugly sounding cry. I was so infuriated! Of all the things to give them! Why?!
I threw the nearly empty pack into the curtain with enough force to pop the curtain half way off the rod it was suspended on. Yelling furiously, I repeated the question, "You gave them my SEDATIVES?!"
A sort of panic mixed with my anger. I was already craving some, but now this stupid girl gave away my meds! I grabbed the bed and tossed it up onto its side with a huge crash. Sharon fell to the ground from fright and broke down crying, her loud wails mixing with my enraged yelling.
"DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH MY STUFF!"
"But they-" She tried to say in between her deep breaths and loud wails.
"EVER!"
I didn't even notice my reflex, but Sharon read it perfectly. She raised her arms up to avoid being beaten. That's when I noticed that my fists were clenched and one was even drawn to backhand. My mind overflowed, one half driving itself with logic, the other fueled with raw emotion.
Mustn't...beat...Sharon...
"What is going on in here?" A woman's voice asked in shock.
"GET ME SOME SLEEP MEDS!" I screamed, redirecting my anger.
The nurse shook from my explosive temper, but stut
tered to find a way to explain things. "Well uh, actually...I, well I can't..."
I spun and stepped up to her face. "Sleep meds! NOW!"
A few guards came in and stood further up the hall, within sight. The flustered nurse held her hands up and explained. "I can't. The medics ordered us not to give you any because it impedes your healing due to addiction."
I forced myself to close my mouth and draw a deep breath through my nose. I had so much anger, I felt like I was going to vomit. Without replying, I returned to my area within the curtains. The nurse followed me in.
"I've been told to keep an eye on you in case you try anything as well."
I let out another seething breath from my nose...Nope, too much anger. I whirled and landed a solid strike right on the nurse's right eye. She fell back and held her face, drawing her own breaths from the shock. It was already beginning to turn into a black eye.
"That's for not bringing me sleep meds. Next time I see you and you don't have meds, I'll get your other eye."
Humiliated and scared for her safety, the nurse scrambled to her feet and left the curtains. I slumped down next to the bed and kept up my breathing exercises in order to vent. Sharon's wailing had calmed down to a soft weeping. As my anger subsided, I was left with both a craving for sedatives and a tinge of regret over Sharon. After a moment, I looked up to see a loaf of poundcake on the counter, the food promised to the little girl. I picked it up and moved nearby to Sharon. Sitting on the sideways bed, I offered the food to the terrified girl. Instead of accepting, she clamored out of reach and dashed away through the curtains. Low level annoyance coursed through me.
Searching around, I found the little girl curled in the corner of the clinical hall.
"Sharon?"
She sniffled and curled away out of sight behind a cabinet. I can't believe I have to say this...
"I'm sorry I yelled at you." Pausing a bit to figure out how to continue, I added, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not normal. I need medicine to sleep, and the needles had that medicine so I was a little angry..."
