Program Erin

by Alex Fall

  He paused to see my reaction. I made none.

  "I want to get out of the situation I'm in, but I can't by myself. But you can change everything! You are the key."

  "You...were a mind reader?" I whispered.

  "Erin, please don't be angry. I'm sorry I had to deceive you. I'm so sorry!"

  "You. Read. My. Mind?..."

  "Please, Erin."

  He knows everything. He's seen my past. He knows what I've been through. He knows the way I feel about myself, about my crew, about Sharon, about Arty, about...himself. All those times he poked me, tickled me, hugged me, it was all real. All those times he complimented me, corrected me, guided me, LIED to me! The vastness of just how exposed my being had become was overtaking me. Raw rage was growing quickly in the depths of my soul.

  But that means...the dream where I was in lingerie. That was a real person seeing me. He saw me scream like a little girl. And that also means he saw me cry. I don't let anyone see me cry. And not only did he see me cry, he MADE me cry! He's ripped me open and messed with my emotional state, like he forced himself on me. I've never felt so exposed and naked! I've never felt so embarrassed and humiliated! Every secret I've kept so carefully hidden has been forced out and examined from every facet! I've never felt SO angry!

  "Please! Don't be upset, I'm sorry I had to do this. You can do whatever you want to me, just please don't do this!" The fake pleaded. The Fake. The Stalker. The Liar.

  "Get out of my head..." I uttered slowly through clenched teeth.

  "Erin...please. I-"

  "Get. Out."

  He stood in place and fiddled with his hands. "I can't just leave you..."

  My vision began to turn red from the rage building inside of me. Noise started getting blocked, and all I could hear was a whine in my ears from blood rushing to my head. My body began to tighten and tremble. I drew a deep uncontrolled breath in.

  "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. You little *cuss!* You will never know how *cuss* angry I am!

  "GET! OUT!"

  I rolled out of my cot with my pillow locked in my fists. It felt like I was hearing static, and I was breathing heavily. My anger hit the boiling point.

  "*CUSS!*"

  I threw my pillow on the ground and kicked it out of the tent. I grabbed the small fold up stand next to my cot and also flung it outside the tent.

  "What the world?" Someone outside the tent said surprise.

  "God *cuss* *cuss* it! *CUSS!*"

  I grabbed my pack and slung it into the ceiling of the tent. I flipped my cot over and kicked Sharon's blankets. Nothing helped! I wanted to kill something! Shut up Fake Arty, Keegan, whatever you're name is! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! Get out of my head!

  I picked up my shotgun by the barrel and whacked the lamp onto its side.

  "Captain! Captain, what are you doing?" Reggie yelled as he ran towards my tent.

  I kicked my cot again then raised my shotgun to club the only remaining untouched object in the tent, but my muscles froze. I stood over the cello case, ready to bash it into oblivion, but I simply couldn't do it. My own body rebelled against my command. I stood with arms raised over the defenseless case. This object represents the reality of the "Seeker's" existence. Its presence infuriated me, reminded of how thoroughly I had been lied to and used. Why? Why can't I rid myself of it? I'm not asleep anymore, why won't the Fake shut up?!

  I drew another breath in through clenched teeth and hot tears began to fill in my eyes. My throat began to clog. My arms fell to my sides. I was about to cry.

  The tent flap flew open. "Captain! What's happening? What's wrong?" Reggie asked in panic.

  I hid my eyes from his view. Without saying anything, I grabbed the case, shoved Reggie aside, and ran outside the camp. I could feel the tears flowing from my eyes, so I didn't stop for anything or anybody. I left everything behind; my coat, my sleep meds, my weapons, my crew, my Dweller girl, everything.

  Emotions long hidden away resurfaced with mad power. Humiliation, anger, vengeance, depression, sadness, loneliness, loss, desperation all rose and mixed inside me. It stifled my breathing, sapped me of strength, numbed my heart and chest, gave me nausea, and opened a dam of tears. I ran until my legs began to cramp. And then I picked the nearest building and ran until I was on the roof.

  Once I was there, away from everything, I collapsed on hands and knees. I brought the case around and leaned upon it with my arms. HIS voice followed me, echoing in my head. Everything we ever talked about would replay in my head, bits and pieces at a time, no matter how hard I tried to purge him from my mind. He knew the whole time exactly what was happening. Why would he do this to me?

  "You're beautiful," the voice echoed.

  Get out of my head!

  I raised my head and screamed in defiance as loud and as long as my lungs would let me. The air carried my vocals far and sustained them for a moment. The camp that seemed so far away now also seemed quieter once I ran out of breath.

  I filled my lungs and screamed again, but this time it wasn't even half as loud. Instead it turned into an ugly, sobbing cry. My emotions took over my body. Tears fell from my eyes and wet the outside of the cello case.

  "Try switching from D and A notes slowly and smoothly," the voice echoed again. All I could now do was beg the air.

  Please get out of my head. Please…

  Part 19

  My breathing had finally stabilized. My eyes finally stopped producing tears. I finally had the strength to stand.

  Clouds had moved in and hurried up the process of dusk, so now it was pretty much dark outside. Doubtless, my eyes were still bloodshot and I probably looked like trash. My body had finally cooled off from the emotional overload and now my mind acknowledged the cold. I didn't want to go back to the camp just yet. I needed to stabilize myself, recompose the mask that HE ripped off of me.

  There's not much to do here though. I rubbed the outside of the case, rolling over the impossible idea in my head. It's not possible...is it? I unlocked the clasps, pulled the cello out, and checked the tuning just as I had remembered. I sat on a vent pipe that was the appropriate height, then strummed one note.

  It sounded pure, perfect.

  I looked around, as if someone might be watching. This is ridiculous.

  I strummed a few more notes, sustaining them in 4/4 time. I put the bow down, stood, and paced. It works. I basically know how to play. A strange embarrassment rose in me. Rubbing the hair from my face, I sat and strummed a few measures of music. The inexplicable embarrassment took me again. I put the bow down, and began to put the cello back in its case. Why does this work? It shouldn't work, I learned from a dream.

  Shut up...

  I shook my head to dismiss the thoughts plaguing me. Distant noises tickled at my ears from the direction of the camp. I noticed an abnormal amount of commotion originating from back there. I packed away the cello and walked back to camp. However, the closer I got, the quicker my pace became. They were loading up and leaving. And they were doing it without me!

  The scene was much different now. All of the tents had been packed and stored. Everything was now boxed up or otherwise put away, and only several vehicles were all that remained of the camp. A few trucks had already left, and three heli-type tactical airships were beginning to lift off. My crew and refugee dweller girl were nowhere in sight, and those in charge of the camp were absent. Only a few nobody's scrambled here and there. I shouldered the cello case and grabbed hold of the nearest grunt packing up.

  "Answers. Now. Where is everyone going and where is my crew?"

  The pale man, though stout and strong, seemed disturbed at my presence. "It's standard procedure to move camp regularly so as to avoid detection. I'm not sure where your crew is though..."

  "Find out," I commanded.

  After some begrudged servitude, the grunt told me that most of my crew had already left with Sharon and some other "Rebels." Only Vick stayed behind, sitting atop a pile of crates
. I approached with my annoyance level at its general setting.

  "You better have a *cuss* good reason the rest of the crew isn't with you."

  He stood, ready to obey orders. "Sorry captain. We split up so we can have people here and at the new location. Lori and Gar got a vehicle to working condition and they should be meeting us just a few meters that way."

  It must have been the skiff that Lori saw the other day. Either way, this doesn't excuse their actions. "So you're saying the crew is there?"

  "Only Gar is, Captain. Everyone else is-"

  "Where the *cuss* is Sharon?"

  Vick discerned that I was in a mood. "She is with Lori, aboard one of the flyers, headed to the new camp location."

  "And no one felt a compelling need to tell their OWN CAPTAIN?" I shouted over the roar of an airship in liftoff.

  "Actually, I did try to tell you captain. You were just..."

  Finish the sentence. I crave to see how badly the words come out of your mouth.

  Vick paused. No doubt, he could tell I was volatile. "...taking care of more important things."

  "That's *cuss* *cuss* right I was! Take me to Wyatt, now!"

  My pilot cringed a bit, but relaxed when I was done talking. With a slight jog, we hustled towards the edge of the old camp. Old burns stung at the movement, and the cold made me more furious, but more than anything else making me mad was the echoes of HIS voice. Get the *cuss* out of my head! Stop telling me not to cuss! Worthless, lying Fake!

  We turned into the loading dock for a small warehouse. The door was missing, and the noise was much more distant now. Wyatt was leaning against the hover skiff, messing with a handheld electronic, but put it away and stood quickly at the sight of me.

  "Stop dawdling and get this thing started! Now!" My intensity startled Wyatt, but after all, I was in no mood to put up with his idiocy.

  I hopped in the back and my half crew hopped in the front. "What's in the case?" Wyatt asked.

  "Shut up."

  "Geez it was a simple question..."

  "But it came from you. Now get us out of here!"

  Wyatt looked at Vick and raised an eyebrow. Vick just held a hand up and acknowledged him without words. The lift system activated and the vibration of engines increased. With a decent speed, we shot off towards an unknown location.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "Another dead section of city. Not sure how else to describe it other than directions."

  "No coordinates?"

  "We have coordinates" Wyatt replied. "But they're a different system than normal. They don't line up with the system we use at home, so it's a bit unfamiliar, and I still don't know where the Decapolis is from here. If we ever get a clear night, I can use the stars to recalibrate."

  I looked off to the side and noted one of airships breaking formation. I pointed. "Where are they going?"

  Wyatt and Vick glanced at each other, but didn't reply.

  "I said, where are they going?"

  "I'm not sure. Looks like elsewhere," Wyatt answered.

  I narrowed my eyes at the airship as its distance grew from us, wiping some hair from my face that the wind insisted on blowing around. My mind replayed the last couple of days.

  "You DO know," I commented.

  "What?"

  I reached up and grabbed the right engine control, jerking it back and effectively jerking the whole vehicle right. Vick reflexively pulled the vehicle to a stop.

  "Whoa! What the heck was-" he began to say.

  "Stop *cussing* with me! Where is that ship going?" I demanded as I stood over them.

  Again, they looked at each other. "Separate mission," Vick said.

  "What kind of mission?" I sarcastically pried.

  "They're hitting a weapons depot," Wyatt declared, then shifted focus to Vick. "What? She was gonna find out sooner or later. Or kill us, one of the two."

  I glowered at the two of them. "You two have volunteered whether you like it or not. Vick, move to the back. I'm piloting now."

  With a certain ferocious focus, I pursued the lone airship through the city. My crew stayed quiet, alarmed by the sudden element of danger and my less than desirable temperament. I put my hair back to keep it out of my face and gritted my teeth every time HIS voice tried to console or correct me.

  "Try to be a hero," he echoed. *Cuss* you, Keegan! I'll do whatever I want!

  Total darkness fell and I struggled to keep up, cutting close corners and many questionable shortcuts. My other crew members may not have been able to do it, but I watched the skies well and followed. Soon, a lit building came in view, but the airship had disappeared shortly afterwards. I pulled up near the depot and held a neutral position for a moment. My crew didn't have the bravery to break the silence.

  "You need to leave," a voice said. It was close enough that all three of us heard it...or at least, that's how it seemed. Vick and Wyatt scanned the area to determine the source, but I ignored it. I powered down the vehicle and hopped over the edge to the ground. Though I was not armed or armored, I made my way to the building.

  "Leave now," it repeated.

  "Captain?" Vick asked, awaiting orders.

  "It's one of those sense tricksters. Ignore him," I uttered.

  "If he knows we're here, shouldn't we be concerned?" Asked Wyatt.

  "He's on the airship with the Rebels. Remember the day we first met them and they supposedly had a huge crew?"

  Vick and Wyatt muttered in remembrance while I advanced upon the building. I could no longer hear the airship, which meant they had likely powered down also. Either they come down and meet me, or I ruin their plans. I signaled my crew to hold position while I worked on spotting cameras and security systems. It's not good that I left my pack, but I should be able to make do anyhow. What's so important in here anyway?

  I began to scan the building tops for an entrance. A possible one revealed itself to me. Using hand signals, I had my two crewman follow me to the top of the nearest building. Once here, it was easy to grab hold of the rungs attached to a power line tower. The lines haven't had power running through them in quite some time, based on the condition of the transformers and condition of the rubber coating, so I crawled out onto the lines. My crew however was much more reluctant. Whatever, I don't need them. And you...get out of my head! I don't need you either!

  After crawling out enough, I dropped onto the roof of the structure and broke my fall. Now I'm here, out of sight from whoever is inside. I have to move without making noise, I need to assess the situation quickly, I need to give orders to my crew, I need to stop my pain, and I really need to get HIS voice out of my head. I'll show you to tamper with my personality.

  "What in the world are you doing?" Nicolette whispered angrily as she joined me on the roof via her own way of getting up here. With her were four more soldier types, one of which I assumed to be the trickster.

  "My own business."

  "What the *cuss?!* You ruin everything!" She whisper shouted. "They probably already know we're here!"

  "That's not my fault. I got along plenty well without you guys in the way," I calmly retorted. "And if you had told me what you were doing in the first place, we wouldn't be in this conundrum now would we?"

  "Maybe we could have told you if you weren't so busy being an emotional train wreck, running around like you-"

  "As if you would have told me, even if I sat on your lap. Are you jealous of my superior combat prowess? Is that what it is?"

  I detected Nicolette gritting her teeth behind her armor. "You wish you had the experience I had. When I'm done with the mission, I'll deal with you!"

  I chuckled pointedly. "If I had the experience you had, I'd still be frolicking with pretty boys like the ones you brought, instead of burning down shrimps like you."

  Nicolette pulled her helmet off and holstered her gun. One of her fellow fighters stepped in the way first however. "Shut up Bright eyes. We are not involved with-"

  "I wasn't addressing you,"
I interrupted. "You're too far beneath me to look me in the face, much less breath words in my direction."

  The rest of the soldiers began to assume a more aggressive stance. Nicolette shoved her comrade out of the way. "All right motherless *cuss,* let's figure this out, right here."

  I noted Wyatt and Vick crawl up the edge of the building. They were either caught on film or tripped some kind of alarm. That was dumb, but my focus was on this one in front of me. I simply smirked at her. "Henderson Special forty-five, class B. A heavier handgun than most of its size," I stated, indicating that I knew her gun well. "You can't pull that gun fast enough to make it useful."

  Almost as the words were coming out of my mouth, Nicolette pulled her gun and aimed it right in my face. Since it was my intent to get her to pull it, I reacted just as fast. As the gun was coming towards me, I grabbed the chamber casing and pulled down on a certain notch, pulling the casing off and forcing the firing mechanism to a neutral position. Without the housing, the gun could not fire. True, there was a gun in my face, but I reacted fast enough to make it useless. Nicolette glared at me as best as her feeble eyes could. I tossed the housing aside and met her glare.

  "As I was saying..." I declared.

  "Is it me, or does almost everyone we meet have anger issues?" Wyatt passively commented.

  "Reign in your *cuss*, soldier," Nicolette commanded Vick and Wyatt. I heard Vick quietly pleading for me not to retort. I also heard Fake Arty. I'll show both of you.

  "Ah yes, every outshined person's ultimate fallback: name calling. Perhaps you were too busy to notice the Benevolents heading our way?"

  "Actually...she's right about the Benevolents," one of her quieter companions piped up.

  "Oh? Then have fun with them yourself." The doors leading to the roof lit up and bullets ripped out. Everyone took cover and Nicolette held a fist up, preventing any of her crew from assisting. Ice grew to shield everyone behind her, and I could hear the starting crackles of electricity just behind the door leading inside. This girl really gets me boiling. If she had just shut up, we wouldn't be under fire. She wants me to handle the situation? I'll handle the situation magnificently. I'll show her. And I'll show you, Keegan!