* * *
It was obviously time for my interview.
The door slid open, two men entered and the door closed behind them. Now, I stood as soon as they appeared, knowing that I couldn’t afford to put myself in a position of weakness again. With my back pressed into the wall I waited, and watched them.
The two men hovered by the door. Both looked small and weak, but I knew that meant nothing. They were inhumanly strong, these creatures. I’d learned quickly, but not fast enough to protect myself back at the apartment. Now it was different: I had nothing to lose and everything to gain by fighting back. And, even better, knowing that everyone has a weakness, I was sure that I had guessed theirs.
Waiting for them to come back, I’d had time to think about the commander: what he’d said and how he acted. His unconcealed violence, in front of his men, told me that I was not safe here. I hadn’t been able to fully work out what being a genetic throw-back meant, although I suspected it had to do with my aggressive behaviour.
What I realised was that he sounded most angry when he talked about losing someone. I could only assume that I’d killed, or severely injured, the man that had gone down in the apartment when I hit him across the throat.
A lucky blow, the commander had called it. Ironic that he would use that word given our society’s preference for logic and reason over luck…but I believed he was right, it was lucky – for me – in more ways than he might have guessed.
I had already decided to fight. They were still looking for Cassie and perhaps distracting them by causing trouble here was the best assistance I could give her. It scared me that I might not be concealing my thoughts any longer and didn’t want them inside my head.
What better way to stop them wanting to talk to me, than making them want to hit me?
When I put it in words, it sounded like a terrible idea, but it was the best I had and anyway, I suspected that being thrown around by the commander had been just the beginning…attacking might be my best defence.
My attention flicked back to the two men. They remained close to the door, although one had moved forward a little way into the room. He was closer to me. Just as before, I detected fear. It was in the way they stood, baton-like weapons clutched tightly into shaking hands. It was in the way their eyes followed my casual, minute movements as if I might explode at any second. I wondered again about being a genetic throw-back: perhaps they hadn’t seen anyone like me in a long time, perhaps they weren’t prepared for me.
“How are we gentleman?” I offered a cordial smile with my words, which neither man returned. “I believe it must be time for my interview.”
Ignoring my last remark, the man closest to me took another step forward, his colleague by the door copying him a moment later.
“You are to come with us. There is another room for you to be interviewed in.” The man at the back spoke with stilted words.
“That sounds jolly.” I pushed myself away from the wall.
“Don’t move any further!” The man closest blurted out, his stick rising.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” I told him, fixing my eyes onto his, “I’d just like to talk to you before we go.”
“We are just here–“
He didn’t get chance to finish what he was saying because that was when I leapt. Instead of moving forward to help him, his partner panicked and moved back towards the door, shaking his baton a little higher, but nothing more than that.
Circling the first man, who was now in the middle of the room, a sense of power filled my chest. “Don’t you want to talk to me?” I goaded him. “I thought you wanted to talk to me… to ask me questions.” I felt like a predator, playing with a helpless animal. But I had to remember, he wasn’t weak…scared, yes…but not weak. I would have to be fast to take him down, like I intended.
He watched with wary eyes, his weapon pointed straight out towards my chest – his hands still shaking. The room was quiet for a short moment – fear and indecision hanging in the air as if it had frozen there. That’s when I attacked.
Everything moved at once. His arms and weapon flurried ineffectually in the air as I dived towards him. Two gentle popping sounds accompanied a breeze-like sensation passing by my arm and head, and I guessed that his weapon must have fired some sort of shot. Thankfully it missed.
Spinning to the side I avoided my target’s arm as he brought the weapon around to hit me, and ducking behind him, I escaped the series of shots that his colleague fired from the doorway. Each of the blasts – four, I think – smashed into the guard’s body instead, making him stumble backwards onto me. He showed no other effect than that from being hit, though I was sure it would not have been the case if the shots had hit me.
Keeping the man’s body between me and his partner, I landed swift punches to the soft area in his back over his kidneys. But there was no soft area – just as I suspected – and I realised there was only one way to end this, as I wanted.
My chance came as the struggling man tried to throw me off his back, where I’d fixed myself, holding on tight to the material of his suit. He swung his arm too wide and high to do anything productive, but I was able to slide my arm under his and lock it around the back of his neck.
Still trying to dislodge me and provide his colleague a clear target, he stepped from side-to-side. I pulled back with all my weight, using the only real weapon I had against his strength. It slowed his movements enough that I remained behind him, blocked from view. With a final surge of effort, I grunted a deep breath of air as I pulled myself higher on his back, and drew back my free hand.
“Shoot him now!” He screamed. It was too late for him and he knew it.
Maybe he thought speaking aloud might stop me?
It wouldn’t, but he might have thought it. No. My target was clear – the man’s throat was exposed – and with a final glance at his companion, I pounded my fist into the soft hollow of his neck.
The effect was immediate and conclusive. As my knuckles made contact with the only yielding part of the man, his body crumpled to the floor. I landed heavily on top of him, jarring myself but struggling immediately to untangle my arm from beneath the deflated figure. A second or so later I was on my feet, ready for the next attack. But it didn’t come: the man by the door was frozen in place.
Shock.
I realised this at the same time I grasped that I had been right: the weak spot in the neck was key. I might not know why, but I knew it was. And, the reaction of the other guard told me that this did not happen normally.
Even though the man at the door had not moved, it slid open silently. With a gut-wrenching screech of rage, the commander burst into the room, diving straight for me. Spurred by anger and with speed and strength I couldn’t match he grappled me to the ground and landed a volley of punches to my head and stomach. The best I could do was lift my arms to shield my head; there was no way for me to fight back.
“How did you do it, you freak?!” His blows rained down on me, punctuating his words. “This – isn’t – right!”
Finally, he let me go. I rolled onto my side, thinking to stand up, but I was too disoriented. My arms remained over my face and I felt warm wet trickling across my fingers; it could only have been blood. Breath wheezed from my chest and I wondered whether he might have just broken my ribs. It seemed likely.
The room remained quiet, but I knew both men were still there: shuffling feet, then a thump as something hit a wall. Beneath my arm I opened my eye to see. One was already swelling shut with bruising, so I couldn’t see well, but I saw that I was alone with the commander now. Perhaps the noise I’d heard had been him throwing the other man out.
“How did you do it?” He asked, barely concealing the fury in his voice.
I closed my eyes again. I didn’t want to talk to this creature. I had no idea what was wrong with them, but I couldn’t believe that we were both the same. It was impossible to believe that we were both human.
<
br /> “YOU WILL ANSWER ME!”
The weight of his body was on top of me in an instant, ripping my arms away from my face and forcing me to look at him.
“How are you doing this? How are you blocking us out? It isn’t possible!”
I shook my head, not daring to speak. Not daring to hope that somehow, however impossible it might seem, he couldn’t read my thoughts.
“Answer me!”
His hand slapped into my cheek, stinging but not stirring me to respond.
“There is something wrong with you. You are not like the others – how can that be?”
Leaning away from me, he scrutinised my face as he sneered his question through clenched teeth. Again I stayed silent; it felt like he was talking more to himself than me.
“None are violent now. No one questions our setting or rules – so why do you?”
“I like working things out.” I replied, tasting blood in my mouth.
“And my men,” he asked, his voice growing soft, “how did you work that out?”
I couldn’t help myself – I had to gloat, he’d told me it himself. “I don’t know, a lucky throw, I guess.”
Realisation registered on his face as my words sank in, his features twisting into a mask of fury. Without a word the commander yanked me forwards, rolling me towards him so that I could see his face as he pulled his fist back and swung. This time the pain blossomed bright and red inside my head, the blow finding its mark. When the red faded to black, I slipped gratefully into the darkness.
The Rainbow Maker's Tale Page 43
