by Alex Fall
As Howie drew close, I kept my head turned to the girl. This fight ends now. I winked at her, and her face hardened slightly, probably trying to figure out what I was planning.
My opponent's rough hand grabbed my hair and picked up my head to face him. He pulled his other fist back to slam me right in the face, but I countered in a way he didn't see coming. I met his super strength fist with my super heated fist.
The crowd let out a unanimous gasp of shock, and the room grew much quieter as my fist creamed through Howie's like I was punching jello, spreading wispy flame and charred bits of flesh out away from us. Immediately, he let go of me and backed off, holding his arm and gawking at his mangled hand in pain. Sure, I got a burn on the tops of my fingers that felt like putting my fist on a hot frying pan, but his right hand was now incomplete. What remained of his hand was blackened along the edge that came in contact with my fist. Howie tried to yell, but nothing came out. Instead, he dropped to his knees.
I stood, snorted again, then gripped my cowardly opponents ear. One, two, three, four heavy punches to the head and neck area. He fell on his back, whereupon I dove elbow first onto him again. After several brutal blows, I stood above the incapacitated mass of my opponent, who now only had strength left to simply moan.
"I win," I announced to the hushed crowd.
Without waiting on a cue, I marched over, jumped the ropes, and made a Bee-line for the room I directed Sharon to put my stuff into. The people parted to give me space as I passed through. Not much time...
The room was full of tables, chairs, and bins of assorted objects. Sharon made sure to keep my pack well hidden if even I don't see it right off hand. Good girl. Even still, I could smell the orange oil, so I followed the scent and found my pack stowed away underneath some chairs in the back. Without delay, I yanked my shirt off and began to equip my chest armor and the armor for my right arm. That’s all I had time for. I could hear people shuffling outside the room, but more distinctly, I picked up on the approaching guards. I grabbed a special syringe, packed up my shirt, put on a zip up hoodie, and hid my pack again.
"Sapphire Eyes, step out of the room with your arms behind your head," a ganger shouted from around the corner.
"How do you plan on making me do that?"
A hand came in view holding a flash bang. Wow, that's actually semi intelligent. For the sake of appeasing them, I followed orders and exited the room. I was knocked to my knees and cuffed nearly in an instant. A contingent of armed gang members was outside the hall, ready to escort me away. I was led down the intricate tunnels straight to Rod's fancy slapdash office.
The guards parted and had me lead the way through the curtains. On the other side, I was met by a bang and a bullet to my chest. This is exactly why I wore the armor.
"You little *cuss!*" Rod shouted as I hit the ground. He lowered his pistol, and the guards yanked me to my feet. "No blood. How'd you manage that trick? Using your powers again?" He continued. "What the heck were you thinking?!"
I breathed out the pain of being shot through my nose, then answered. "Where's my charger?"
Rod slammed his gun on the desk and pointed to the guard on my left. "Kill her."
Four guards behind me, one on my right and one on my left, two outside the door, and Rod, all armed. I've got this...
"I dare you to," I growled as I narrowed my eyes at the guard. With quick reflexes, he pulled a handgun and went to fire at my head. With lightning reflexes, I melted through my cuffs and intercepted his gun arm with my left hand, then superheated my right. With one strike, I open palmed through my would-be killer, and redirected the gun to fire into the guard to my right rather than into my head. The clicks of weapons behind me served to heighten my kill mode. I pulled my left arm free and turned on the gangers behind me, doormen and escorts alike. Channeling the power through my arm, I poured flame onto the crowd until it was almost hard to look in that direction on account of being too bright. A bullet ripped through the flames and struck me in my armored shoulder, and I saw a sheet of ice go up around one figure, but it couldn't withstand the might of my inferno. The fire roared as it consumed all that was in front of me, and the length of my arm felt as if someone was peeling my flesh off. Tears welled in my eyes and I gritted my teeth at the subsequent pain, but a new pain shot down me when a bullet stopped on the armor against my back. I ceased using my power to duck and turn, locking eyes with a furious, yet worried Rod. Another bullet struck near my collar bone, stopping on my armor and further angering me. I spun down on one knee to avoid a possible third bullet. I'll have to make this awkward position work.
I seared into Rod's hand with a lash of fire so concentrated into one spot, it came out almost like a beam. It caught Rod off guard, likely because the fire burst forth from the side of my neck, leaving behind another painful scar. He yelled and dropped the gun, and I was on him faster than he could account for. His desk was shoved into him, then both the desk and Rod into the wall. I grabbed his necktie and pulled him into a headbutt, then hooked my good hand around his neck and pulled him onto the furniture with a chokehold. I beat another gun out of his hands, then checked his pockets for hidden goodies, before pulling a knife and holding it to him.
I drew breaths through clenched teeth as the flaming surroundings crackled and popped softly. "Some gang leader you are! You couldn't even hit me that good! And I'm sick of your high and mighty attitude. I asked simply for a charger and to be let out of this place, and I got neither! Do you remember what I said I'd do when you didn't give me EXACTLY what I want?"
Rod stared into my eyes, too proud to admit defeat.
"No? Well I'm about to remind you..."
Trudging through the halls, I wiped some sweat from my brow with a trembling hand. I left Rod's carcass in the burnt remains of his throne room and returned towards the fight hall. I pulled out the special syringe and squirted the liquid inside under my tongue, swallowing it all after it sat there for a few seconds. Soon, the pain will be little more than a slight irritant.
The scene was very different in the fight hall. There were a lot less people, and the ones that remained were hurrying away or recounting the shocking fight results. Sharon stood out of the way near the edge of the seating, holding my pack. But most notable of all, was the group of people entering from exactly opposite of where I was entering. Several heavily armed men and women, all wearing red bracelets, marched in and secured the room. And to my horror, a familiar, youngish blond haired man entered the scene, the Burn that nearly killed me.
"Everyone get out! We're here for her!" He shouted. Nearby people scrambled away, and Sharon looked to me nervously. How did the Benevolents find me here?
"Here for who?" I asked, grabbing the attention of 'the Reds'.
"For you, lovely!" He said while he puckered his face, pointed, and did a silly dance.
This man is juvenile and annoying. He's also heartless. I believe that classifies him as psychotic. Honestly, I was worried...
The others with him spread around the room as I marched toward him, while my kill mode rekindled itself.
"Aw, your burns are so small and cute!" He mocked. He carried no weapons, and didn't dress particularly standout-ish. The Greaters with him, however, were quite the opposite. Let's see, how do I catch this guy? The Benevolent to my close right is the nearest one. If I could get his weapon before-
Click.
A pistol being loaded sounded off. Behind the Burn stood Sharon, wielding a pistol from my pack. She looked very terrified.
"A Lesser?" The Burn said when he peeked behind him. He twitched suddenly and yelled "Boo!"
She didn't mean to, even I could tell that. She was just a terrified little child, but out of fright, Sharon pulled the trigger. The bang of the pistol sounded off.
No...
Please, no...this isn't happening...
"You *cuss* Lesser WRETCH!" The Burn suddenly yelled, holding his bloody shoulder. Sharon squealed and dropped the gun, and it was like slow motio
n for me to watch the ruthless Greater turn and hold a hand out. A spot in space, right next to the girl that I worked so hard to protect and care for, exploded with fire, pouring flame all over her, shoving her back and resounding a deafening boom.
Sharon hit the ground and slid into the wall. When she came to a stop, there was no movement. Her shirt had nearly been blown off, and a horrid wound was underneath.
"Sharon!" I screamed.
There is no mercy left for anyone in this room…
* * *
Sharon...
I slumped down on my knees next to the burnt child. One of the tunnels finished collapsing in the background from the excessive use of my power. Around me there was destruction, death, fire, and ice. Many of the Benevolents that stood up to me died, and most unfortunately, the Burn, though injured, got away with a few others. Somewhere in the fight, I equipped and used my Templar unit, so I vented the heat battery in case it needed to be used again.
If I hadn't taken that pain block before the fight, I might not be conscious now. I had innumerable burns across my arms, legs, body, and even my head, besides extra wounds the other antagonists gave me. I recognized that I was in pain, but between the medicine and the shock of watching Sharon get blasted, I didn't feel too much.
Reaching my hands out to try and help the poor girl, I noted that my burned arms were trembling. Why did she do something so stupid? What would posses her to act so out of character? Why...couldn't I protect her?
Tears began to fill in behind my eyes. A sound picked up in my ears, something that didn't fall in the category of fire crackling, the rubble settling, or my own body. I snatched the pistol Sharon dropped and fired it into the doorway up ahead. A shocked ganger stumbled back and fell over. A sick dread of myself began to build. I think just killed someone and I don't even know who they were or if they were here to hurt or help me. I dropped the pistol and looked to Sharon. She was still breathing...
For once, I need to save a life instead of take one. I felt panicky, and still aggressive towards any living thing, but I tried to suppress it, tried to not be me. Peeling what little of her shirt remained away, the damage showed itself. Massive burns spread across the right side of her stomach, chest, and shoulder. I was thankful that Sharon was knocked unconscious, otherwise she would have to deal with the pain. Have to save Sharon. Have to perform surgery.
I picked up the girl and whimpered from my own pain, then stumbled through the underground complex. I had to go around the collapsed tunnels, taking the long way (and only remaining way) to the clinic. I tripped and fell to my knees at least twice. Half of the trip there I don't even recall myself walking, yet I ended up by a row of empty beds. I set the girl down in the nearest one and began searching for anything medical.
It took me a good eight minutes to find what I needed, and even then some of it was improvised. I dropped everything onto the cabinet next to Sharon's bed and grabbed onto the nearest thing so I didn't collapse. My head throbbed, the pain was trying to shred my mental ability. The damaged parts of me kept locking or losing strength. One of my feet felt damaged, but I wasn't sure. Need medicine...
I had to stumble back into the fight hall to grab my pack, take several more pills and shots for myself, and drag it back to the clinic. Another set of minutes passed by. Sharon still wasn't awake. I stabilized myself again and wiped the hair from my face as I assessed her damage. Skin grafts....
This armor is getting in my way now. All the burns I made melted a good part of it, so now the armor was rendered useless. I pulled it off of me, cut off the parts that didn't pull, and plucked the bits that melted into my skin. Now THAT I felt, and it didn't feel good. After taking off my Templar unit, I retrieved medicines and drugs from my own stash then prepped for surgery.
Face mask.
Eyewear.
Antibiotics.
I.V.
Anesthetic.
Bodily repair enhancement injections.
Something to bring down the swelling.
Thin blade I guessed to be some kind of scalpel.
Cutting.
Precision.
Should I be worried about that amount of blood?
Clean the wounds.
Replacement grafts.
Think, think! No! Don't cut there! Can't think straight...
Stitches? Bandages?
ED-3 skin substitute.
Ignore the screams and voices. It's just in my head.
Drugs.
Repair.
Ice...
Pillows, covers. Sleep. No, not yet.
"Erin..."
My body jerked as I reflexed to grab a weapon. I shot Fake Arty straight in the head. His skull burst apart like dry pottery in the manner it usually does, and his body stiffened and fell over, shattering on the ground.
"What if that had been someone else?" He asked from behind me.
I turned and dropped the weapon, holding my hands to my head. I'm still on kill mode! What's wrong with me?!
"Don't get any closer. I need space..." I warned.
"Okay, we can do that...I'm glad you're alive at least."
"Barely..."
A concerned frown crossed his face, but we both sat in silence for a bit. I turned to examine the girl in the bed while nothing was being said.
"When did I fall asleep?" I asked after a moment.
"A while ago. I believe you fell asleep while standing over Sharon...is she going to make it?"
"...I don't know," I said. Why does this bother me so much? My voice cracked when I spoke. Don't cry in front of others.
"Did you hurt her?" He asked.
"No."
"Did you try to protect her?"
"Didn't have time." My voice is cracking again. Now is not the time to be weak, don't cry in front of others.
"But did you try?"
I swallowed hard, noting that my breath was getting shaky. I began to second guess myself. Did I try? I don't remember telling her anything to warn her. Did I try to act before or after she got burned? I don't remember! All I remember was rage. Was I fighting for her or myself? I can feel the pain seeping past the pain block. Why didn't I give her one of those? DID I give her one of those? I can't remember! All I remember is wrath, murder, revenge! All I remember is being a Program!
I struggled to resist choking on my own spit when I began to think about the events more and more. My eyes were dampening, my breathing was shaky, and my stomach was tightening and getting sick. The fear of knowing that the Programming got the better of me yet again was escalating quickly. I let myself sit down on the floor, facing away from the other person in the room.
"Erin?" He asked softly.
"Go away," I whispered.
I was pulled into a warm embrace. The touch of someone else made me tingle, and I didn't like it. I tried shrug him off but Fake Arty's hand touched the side of my face.
In a split second, I relived the scene, sounds, emotions of watching Sharon get attacked by the Burn. I also relived going into the blood rage seconds after.
"Program," Arty said in a low voice.
I felt sick. My own conscience is telling me that I'm a monster now, that I'm nothing more than a Directorate experiment. I turned just enough to see the figment’s face with my eyes (which by now might be turning bloodshot.) Why is he smiling? He just admitted I have no purpose in life!
"Taking care of Sharon?" He said as pointed to the girl. He let his pointer finger drop and tap me over the heart. "Beautiful..."
I stifled a shaky breath as my emotions attacked me again. It came out as a choke. Tears began rolling down my face, and the emotional dam broke. For the first time ever, I cried openly in front of someone else, even in my dreams. He pulled me close and I cried on his shoulder like a child. I wanted the dream to end because I felt so humiliated for losing control of my emotions, but at the same time I felt much better after letting them out.
After my sobs calmed down to sniffles, Fake Arty finally said, "You're going to w
ake up soon."
I lifted my head off of his shoulder and examined his warm face...before headbutting the *cuss* out of him. His face exploded into earthenware fragments, and I broke out of his cradling arms.
"What in the world was that for?" He asked in shock, now standing by a bed across from the one Sharon was in.
"For making me cry!" I replied as I wiped my eyes and stood.
My eyes barely cracked open in the real world, one nearly swollen shut from burns. I must have collapsed from exhaustion, because I was laid out on the floor next to Sharon's bed. The floor was freezing, so I was cold and shivering. The pain block wore off, so I felt every bit of my huge burns, bruises, soreness, aching, cuts, and tightness. My eyes were damp from the emotional overload in my dreams. I was still tired, and I was beginning to crave some sleep meds. Yet, through it all, I still cracked a smile.
I got the last word in my dreams.
Part 14
Dragging myself through the complex, I searched for the food bag I had left in the fight hall. I was moving a little better after some pain and sleep medication, but I was still moving slow.
In the main fight hall, daylight poured in from some holes high above the collapsed tunnels. It's been so long since I've seen sunlight, my eyes had to adjust for a moment. Even in my mending world, the sun was still so pure and joyous like the one in Ilavoan. The smells of outside wafted into the room, reminding me that I wanted to leave the tunnels soon. All was quiet, aside from some birds in the distance, but the sound of nearby rummaging caught my attention.
"Who's here?" I said firmly.
A girl's head popped up between some seats, very close to where I was standing. It was Howie's Dweller girl. She looked extremely frightened at my presence, even to the point of wielding a piece of rebar to defend herself. She raised the bar as if to say, "if you come too close, I will attack you."
