My au courant companion Manny's good humor and stunning powers of observation aside, our situation looked less than ideal. What with the train wreck still smoldering around us, the moans of the injured and dying floating on the evening breeze, and facing down the most deadly being ever genetically harvested from a test-tube, armed only with my intellect, I was fairly certain grim tidings would soon be upon us.
"You know I'm standing right here, bitch. I can hear you!" The diminutive delinquent shook with apoplectic fury at the perceived slight.
"Brother....it's speaking to me. Make it stop." Brother 7 rolled her eyes with all the arrogance and disdain of a jaded royal.
"Please do try to not take it personally, Manny. She has a shoulder under her enormous chip, and has always been something of a pretentious bitch. Her ire isn't directed at you specifically, just anything that's not....well, her."
"That's really comfortin."
"Why have you come after me. You're well aware of the fact that I want no part in the lunacy that is the Brethren Hunt." Stalling for time, I attempted to angle my body between Manny and my sister. An unscrupulous urchin he may be, but I did not want his blood on my hands.
"You claim to want no part in the game, and yet one by one, our siblings fall at your hands. You're either a liar, or possessed of the worst luck known to man." Seven mirrored my motions, anticipating the imminent arrival of vigorous violence.
"Can I be held accountable if those foolish enough to attack me lose their life in the process? I am after all the pinnacle of our creator's achievements."
"Brother, please. We are both fully cognizant of the fact that you are merely the watered down version of myself, the neutered pup."
"Well....I can see I'm something of a third wheel here. Howz about I just stroll over here and let youse guys have your little sibling rivalry in private, huh?"
Though I certainly approved of his thought process, my sister had her own opinions on the matter and chose that moment to make them known. A solid backhand sent me reeling, while her other arm looped around Manny's throat, holding the stop-gap sidekick immobile.
"Now that I've managed to get a hold of both your attention and your pet, brother mine, please do me the honor of kneeling down like a good little boy so I can finish you off and take the target off of my back?"
"Lady...grrrk....I ain't no pet!" Manny choked out the words, arms flailing uselessly as he tried to fight off her vise-like grip.
"He's absolutely right, you know, he's certainly no pet of mine, despite his animal like manner of speech and grooming. No offense, Manny. I've only met the man this night."
There are certain facts about Brother7 one must be aware of to hope to have any chance at all of surviving an encounter with her. Like all of our line, she suffers from few weaknesses, however foremost among those trifling few vulnerabilities she is plagued with is an inordinate love for hearing herself speak, especially when serving the cause of belittling those inferior to herself. Which is, as far as she is concerned, nearly every man, woman, and child on the planet. Therefore, the best way to prolong this altercation, and our lives, is to play up to her ego, and engage her first on a battlefield of the mind.
"Well he seems to be a quick learner, perhaps we can teach him to play dead?" Her grip tightened around his throat, soft wheezes now the only sound escaping from the grimace plastered across his features.
"Very well, sister. I shall do as you ask, only kindly let the man live, despite his rather abhorrent abuse of the english language, he is as innocent as these simpletons can be in this decadent age. You have me where you want me after all." I kneel down and lace my fingertips behind my head.
With a deceptively gentle gesture, Brother7 throws Manny into a nearby heap of twisted metal and flesh. He landed with nary a whimper, and moved no more.
"That was hardly necessary, sister."
"Perhaps not, but it was quite fun. Your concern for these apes was always your limiting feature. I always thought we could have had quite a lot of fun together, if only you weren't so painfully ill-equipped for the job of ruling the vermin. You and your pathetic morality." Tugging my head back with a fist-full of my hair, her blade touches the skin of my throat, and I feel the sharp bite of the edge as a faint line of blood wells upon the surface of my skin.
It was at precisely this moment that I realized two truths. One, that despite her fearsome manner and reputation, my sister was just as prone to underestimating an opponent as I was. And two, Manny Dietrich was not one to be underestimated. This stunning realization hit me at about the same time a seven hundred pound section of railroad tracks hit my sister in the face.
The origin of my emancipation stood gleaming before my eyes. Manny, armed with what appeared to be a jury rigged suit of various electrical accouterments salvaged from the debris field surrounding us, casually hefted a second section of track, poised to continue his mission of vengeance.
"Hey, 8. You ok, buddy." A surly grin split his face, seaming out of place among the various wounds about his person from his recent brush with death.
"I am indeed, thanks to you. Care to explain the....suit?" My hand went to my own wound, staunching the blood flow and assuring myself that my own life was, for the nonce, safer than it was mere moments before.
"Eh, bunch a lost cellphones and train electronics decided they didn't like the way your sister was treatin me. Can I keep 'em?"
At that moment, the sound of rubble shifting behind me heralded the imminent return of 7. Manny heard it as well and strode forward, shuffling me aside as he hefted his makeshift weapon in scrap iron hands.
"I think perhaps you'd better."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At that precise moment, mere miles away from the confrontation and conflagration, the jeep ferrying Professor Rudolph Rander and his two companions through the desert night was just cresting the top of the hill.
"Professor, look!" hissed grad student Melissa Majors under her breath. Miles Chamberlain, the most recent addition to their fugitive faction lay dozing fitfully in the back seat. Not wishing to awaken him, she pointed to the dull orange glow emanating off across the desert to their right. "What do you think it is?"
"Judging from the smoke, I'd have to say fire, Melissa. Probably best if we continue on our way. The last thing we need is the attention of the authorities who are bound to be on their way."
"But professor, what if someone's hurt, that looks like some sort of accident, I think we crossed some train tracks earlier. What if there's been a wreck?" Concern spread across her youthful features, and the professor felt doubt begin to creep in around the edges of his resolve.
"Well, perhaps you're right. At the very least, we need to get off the main road. We have no idea where the emergency crews will be coming from."
Rander pulled off the road and drove through the dusty scrub bushes alongside the road towards a nearby outcropping of rock.
"We can wait here while the best suited among the three of us reconnoiters the area to ascertain what, if any help is needed."
Turning to regard their passenger, the professor and Melissa are both stunned to realize the back seat is empty. At the sound of a knock on Melissa's window, they both turn to regard Miles. With his t-shirt serving as a makeshift mask, he gives them a thumbs up, time blurs around him for an instant, and then there is nothing but swiftly rising dust in his wake.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talkin to machines ain't all it's cracked up to be. Cell phones f'r instance, they're naturally chatty little bastards anyway, so when you're wearin a suit made out of, like 50% repurposed cell-tech, the noise for a guy like me is frikkin awful. Picture tryin to carry on 25 conversations all at the same time, in like, 15 languages about 22 different topics. At least the bits made out of train was quiet.
This has gotta sound crazy to the average guy, and believe me I understand if you think I'm a fuckin whacko. But trust me it's real.
Anywho....back to the story at hand I guess. I was layin in a pile a wreckage and dead bodies on account o' this crazy bitch that wrecked a train and killed almost everyone on it, just to get a chance to wack my new buddy, who happens to be her brother.
"Hey, you ok, dude?"
My eyes blur and my heads swims as I try and find the guy talkin to me after I just got tossed through a fuckin train. I don't see nobody, so I start looking at the ground. That's when I see it, an older model Nokia brick, glowing away. The air sizzles with the sound of it's voice in my head, static electricity pricklin up and down my skin.
"Yeah....peachy."
"You need some help, dude. We've been talkin, the cellphones, laptops and such....we just want to say don't worry....we got yer back."
I feel the pull of wires across my skin as the lost electronics rip themselves apart, poppin free of plastic shells, and growing around me like metal and LCD plants. I stand up on my own power, but feel my legs supported by torn strips of metal, cables fastening around me to hold on. As I watch Brother7 get ready to butcher her own brother, outta the corner of my eye, I see a massive section of computer hardware, the ones that used to be the brain o' this train, dragging itself across the dust and debris towards me. I flex muscles o' solid steal and circuit boards, grab a big freakin piece of track, and nail that skanky bitch wit one hell of a fastball.
"Hey, 8. You ok, buddy." I feel a trickle o'blood run down my chin when I smile at the big lug. Yeah, I may not be no genius, but I got some friends in the least likely places now apparently.
"I am indeed, thanks to you. Care to explain the....suit?" Brother8 grabs his neck, I can see he almost lost his head while I was out cold.
"Eh, bunch a lost cellphones and train electronics decided they didn't like the way your sister was treatin me. Can I keep 'em?"
I look up when I hear the sound of Brother7 diggin her way outta the pile a crap she landed in. I push 8 outta the way and get ready for another shot at 7.
"I think perhaps you'd better."
I take a couple'a steps forward and raise a 7 foot section of twisted steel in my hands. That's when I hear a boom.
7 hears it too, and looks past me. Then...blammo. I'm hit from behind by somethin. Hard. I'm flying through the air and I land right at 7's feet.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waking up in the backseat of a jeep in the middle of the desert, at night, on the run from the cops, and an unknown cabal of mysterious assassins would be quite the disorienting experience for the average mind. Fortunately for Miles Chamberlain, his newfound ability to slow down time gave him the added benefit of being able to process difficult to deal with subject matter at a relatively hastened rate of speed.
Thus, upon waking to find that the professor and his student, Melissa were concerned about the possibility of innocents dying in a fire, he decided to put his newfound abilities to the test, and indulge in some long over do heroic activity.
Thinking fast, something he was quite adept at by this point, Miles removed his t-shirt, and with his makeshift mask in place, he alerted the others of his intention to intervene, and sped across the cool desert night, towards the dull orange glow in the distance.
As he approached the scene, Miles could see the tell-tale signs of a train derailment. What stood out the most however was a hulking figure, wearing scavenged metal and wires like some sort of armor, raising a club of twisted steel and lumbering towards an unarmed woman.
Changing course and gritting his teeth with the strain, Miles slowed time to a relative stop as he ran with all of his might towards the behemoth's back. When he was mere feet from the creature, he returned time to it's normal pace, and let the inertia of his sudden stop transfer to the imposing instigator. Apparently, hitting something that big at nearly twice the speed of sound agreed neither with the hulking brute, who was sent flying through the air, nor his wrists, unaccustomed to, and not designed for such brutal treatment.
"This," thought Miles, "sucks!"
Screaming in pain, Miles collapsed just like his broken wrists.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Professor, we have to go after him. What if he needs help?" Melissa looked back and forth, from the glow on the horizon, to the face of her mentor, the one man whose decision making abilities she had come to trust above all others.
"If he needs help, it's a simple matter for him to come let us know."
"He should have been back by now. He can cover that distance in an eyeblink. Something's gone wrong, I can feel it. "
"Melissa....you may be right."
With a roar, the jeep's engine came to life, and turning towards the swiftly dimming amber glow, the professor and his companion raced towards destiny.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would like to say that I am unused to being surrounded by such scenes of chaos and violence, however, this would not be quite true. For as long as I can remember, I have dealt with the reality of beings attempting to exert their will over another's. I have been privy to countless examples of the barbarism inherent in the soul of humanity. First in the program, competing with generations of clones, each vying for their place in the sun, for the right to exist and thrive as their own line of genetically enhanced super-soldiers. Later in life, I struggled against my own brothers and sister, as we each sought independence from the program, and the right to exist without constraint or control. Never however, have I borne witness to such a bizarre altercation as that which plays before me now.
A man possessed of speed only dreamed of by mortals lies screaming to my right, as my friend and comrade Manny now sprawled at the feet of my deadliest enemy, my own sister.
"Imbecile, what possessed you to involve yourself in this?" The man I see before me writhes in agony, his image alternately freezing and blurring before me. His arms are twisted and broken from the force of his impact with my armored companion.
"Didn't want....lady....to get.....hurt."
His words vibrate against my ear, the scattered aftershock of sound giving his voice an odd sort of "pre-echo."
"That, 'lady,' as you called her is the one responsible for the carnage you see before you. I suggest, if you are possessed of power sufficient enough to perform the action I've just witnessed, that you pull yourself together posthaste, and find a way to aid my friend before our bodies join the rest of these corpses."
Hefting my own section of rubble, I move to rejoin the fray, and aid Manny in his struggle.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite what he was certain was an absolutely brilliant pep-talk from the overly wordy giant, the simple fact of his broken arms was too much for his similarly shattered mind to deal with at the moment. Retreating inwards, Miles found himself drifting on a sea of memory, back before the past few weeks on the run with his new friends, back to that morning in the alley with the bum.
The speed of his perception increased, new memories come to the fore, and a new visage replaces that of the grinning, gap-toothed homeless man.
Standing before him now was a glowing bearded figure, battle-scarred and weathered by untold eons of sadness and grief. Reaching out a thick, calloused hand, he steadied the youth in his memory and spoke.
"Words of power carry a weight, a weight which you must bear for now, until I can seed others of your race with the means to harness your own destiny. I am certain you have many questions, young one. Perhaps one day you will have the opportunity to ask them of me yourself. For now, be content in the knowledge that there is nothing particularly special about you. In the worst moments of your future, of which, I'm sure there will be many, comfort yourself with this fact."
"You now hold within you, the spark of something greater than what your mundane consciousness has evolved to comprehend, but the day of your awakening is not long off, and you will be my forerunner, my messenger to those that would try to contain, to restrain your growth. I will not allow this. And in time, you will prevent interference on your own terms."
"For now, allow me to give you the proverbial, leg-up on destiny. Now, you probably need to get up."
You ever going to post again?
ReplyDeleteYour story doesn't suck and I want to read the rest of it.