Program Erin
Page 42
I pulled up a small flat slab of stone and laid out the remains of one of my burnt up shirts for a pillow, then draped my nice coat over myself for a blanket. Shortly afterwards, sleep claimed me.
When I began to dream, I found myself standing at the edge of the lot for Keegan's fortress. Everything was much quieter, and very still. Even the air seemed a tad stagnant, but still cool.
"Up here!" Fake Arty shouted from a window at the top of the apartment building.
I looked up to note exactly which window it was, then checked my surroundings to put it in relation to everything. Penthouse apartment, got it. I began to walk towards the entrance.
"Whoa! Don't move!" Fake Arty shouted. He disappeared from view and after a few seconds, came out the front entrance.
"OK, first of all, how are you Erin?" He asked politely.
"Can we get on with this?"
"I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked, holding his hand to his ear.
I sighed in slight annoyance. "It's good to see you too..." I mumbled.
"Oh, try not to be so excited," he replied, poking me in the belly a few times.
I swatted him away. "Stop."
"Come on, be more playful."
"I would think you would want to take this seriously."
He crossed his arms and huffed. "OK fine."
There was a pause. I stopped examining my surroundings to check on him. "What?"
"Hug?" He asked, opening his arms up.
"What is with you?"
"Please?"
"...fine, but can we talk after?"
He scooped me up and snuggled against my cheek. I tolerated it for two seconds.
"OK, enough of that," I stated.
"I got you to hug me," Fake Arty sung cheerily.
Though I was annoyed, I worked to hide a smile. "Can we talk about the matter at hand now?"
Once he saw me hiding my smile, he stopped his slow dancing around the lot. "There you are!"
"Yes, here I am. Keegan, please?"
Fake Arty finally stepped out of his playful nature to begin discussing important matters. "OK if you insist...First thing you need to know, there's a lot of people that are good at using their powers here. Part of the reason is to keep people from finding out that I live here. Most of the people that look like they're just loitering around the outside of the building are actually Owls."
"So if I had come in when I first got here?"
"They would have heard you sneak in, among other things."
"How do I get past them?"
"Do you still have your tote line?"
"Yeah..."
"You still have that flashlight in your pack?"
"Yes, why?"
"Pry the magnetic ring off the end and tie it to the end of the tote line. As soon as you wake up, which will likely be at dark considering how your sleeping habits go, throw the magnet up onto the roof."
"I can't throw that far!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, right..." He looked down as if rethinking his plan.
"Look, where are you going with this?"
"Well...basically I just need you to enter in through a third story window. You'll have to attach the line at night so the guys on lookout won't be able to notice it against the night sky."
"But what about the sound, or not being seen? And what were you thinking with the roof?!" I interrogated.
"I was gonna go up there and tie it off," he defended. "And you're going to be seen. I just need you to be on the wall or going into the window when you are seen."
"So this isn't stealth? This is about speed?"
"Yes. Avoid the first two floors, especially the first floor. As soon as you get inside, find the elevator and enter the shaft, but don't get in the elevator."
"This sounds familiar..." I muttered.
"...Really? Oh yeah, with the relocation building! I forgot that was you."
"Yeah, yeah. So avoid first two floors, avoid main traffic areas."
"And whatever you do, don't use your powers. There's a burn in the building."
Images of the sadistic blonde haired guy popped into my head, and I felt a sudden nervousness about this whole operation.
"Don't worry, he's not the one you ran into before."
"How did you?..."
"I was in your dreams when you met him the second time. He's..."
"Not normal," I said, finishing Fake Arty's sentence for him.
"Yeah. Anyway, I'll provide a distraction for you to move about. Don't come out on the last floor that I'm on, come out on the one below and come up using the stairs. You'll run into less trouble that way. And there will likely be one or two people in my room, but my room will probably be unlocked. Be prepared, and no killing."
"You don't make this easy. What about getting out?"
"I've thought about that a lot. First of all, make sure you have everything with you, cause-"
"What? Why? We're not coming back?"
"Which of those questions do you want me to answer first?" He asked with a smug smile.
I pushed him on the shoulder. "I'm trying to be serious here! Answer me!"
"No, we aren't going back. Do you think all those guys will let you come back to the starting point?"
I crossed my arms and shifted out of irritation. I didn't want to reply, largely because he pointed out the obvious that I somehow missed. It upset me.
"What about your cello?" I asked confidently. As much trouble as that thing is to lug around, I knew he would rethink his strategy if I had to bring that with me into a fight.
"Bring it. We're not going back."
"What?!" I screeched. "It's going to get broken!"
"No it won't. You'll take good care of it," he said, patting me on the head.
"You!...What makes you think that?!" I shouted defiantly, swatting his hand away even though it wasn't there anymore.
"You're cute when you get upset."
"I'm...shut up!"
"You'll take care of it because it's from me," he answered. Again, he wore a smug look.
"What? No! I wouldn't!...Don't. Whatever!"
"See?" He added, poking me in the stomach.
I stepped back after I felt myself make a fist, and stomped my foot. "Focus! Before I wake up! How do I get out once I'm in?...And I am not cute!"
Fake Arty stifled a laugh, but continued with the plan. "OK, so after you have your things and you come get me, here's what we're going to do..."
I awoke from my dreams mentally fatigued. I had to commit quite a bit to memory and argue with Fake Arty a lot. And I can't believe he called me cute...
I began to pack my things, pulling everything out and prioritizing them. I no longer will have a pack, since the only thing I can carry on my back now is the cello. I would leave all my burnt clothes and extra clothes. I managed to stuff my nice coat in the extra space of the cello case, then began to equip as much gear as I could. It pained me to leave behind all the ammo, clothes, tools, and water I had amassed. I used a belt to keep my medicine bag on me, wore an extra belt over that one with grenades of varying types on them, wore my Templar unit, fit odd and end things into my pockets in my cargo pants, holstered a pistol, slung the cello onto my back, drank as much water as I could to leave little of it wasted, readied my tote line, and carried my shotgun.
Alright, here it goes.
Part 23
OK...now! I dashed across the concrete plaza beside the building in question. Fake Arty outlined the positions and walking patterns of the people currently out tonight, as best as he could remember and see out of his window. As he predicted, there was a gap on the southwestern side. How he knew that was a topic of future wondering for me. While keeping to the shadows as much as possible, I focused more on staying silent than not being seen. I hopped up onto the pedestal of a weird, metallic modern art structure and climbed as high as I could, picking up with my ears that at least two people heard my actions and were on their way to investigate. Keegan said that the people here have gone awhile w
ithout any disturbance, so it made them lazy. Normally that wouldn't comfort me much, but something he said changed my mind.
"You're not the only one whose dreams I've visited. I know a lot about everyone in this city, especially those I come in contact with."
It reminded me of how I memorized every detail of my Directorate prison. Medical info, names, timetables, security codes; I ended up using that knowledge to help myself escape. In my mind, only the material of the cell I was in and the massive security walls outside ever stopped me from simply walking out. What keeps Keegan here?
True to his word, those that heard me did not approach with haste. I had time to sling the tote line to the third story, freeze it against the wall for an anchor point and ascend the building. The windows were large, flip flopped triangles of glass, put together into bands that spiraled up the building. I stepped onto the thin band of maroon that divided the spiraling bands of windows, and figured out a point to break into. It wasn't until after I broke and entered one of the triangles that the Greaters on ground floor rushed to find the perpetrator.
Alright, I'm in. Now what?
I heard voices coming from elsewhere on floor three, but the room I found myself in was dark, and smelled heavily of rice and body odor. In the darkness, I spotted a weight set and a bed with magazines spilling out from underneath it, but most everything else was just a vague, dark shape. These windows are very tinted.
And the tote line is stuck....I'll have to leave it. Again, it pained me to leave my gear. I traversed the room quietly and unlocked the door silently. Peeking out, I didn't spot anyone, but I heard people shuffling around. It was surprisingly calm considering that I just broke in. I expected more...resistance.
Suddenly, music began to play. Rock music. It was playing through the buildings PA system. And it was loud!
"Ugh! He's doing it again!" I heard someone shout in the room next to me.
"Again?!" Someone echoed the first voice. They all seemed to be trying to yell over the music.
"Someone go up there and tell Keegan to turn his *cuss* music off! I hate it when he does this!" A third voice said.
I listened no more. Instead, I moved quickly through the halls with boosted confidence, working fast to find elevators. This was his distraction, though it hurt my head a little. This...was brilliant.
"Hey mind reader,
You know what I feel
Before I speak,
It always seems
You gotta one up me..."
I slowed down as the lyrics caught my ear. Is this a joke? Is he still not taking this seriously? I'm going to kill him...
I turned the corner and pulled myself back out of view. Someone was leaving a room and entering the hallway. I set my cello case down and readied myself for combat. The young guy came in view, and I wasted no time clubbing him in the head with my shotgun. He stumbled back holding his head, and before he could shout, I performed an open palm hit like an uppercut, knocking the back of his head into a wall sconce. It knocked him out. I need to move.
Grabbing my cello, I rushed through the halls until I found the elevator shaft. I forced the door open and checked the location of the elevator itself. I had to dodge the thing so as not to get my head clipped. This is convenient. I hopped onto the elevator as it passed down, crouched and stayed as still as I could. My hand hurt quite a bit from use, and my burns were beginning to throb. The elevator stopped at ground floor and picked up a bunch of seemingly annoyed Reds. Then we passed the third floor. The door was still open, and as I passed, a Greater saw me. I waved at her in passing, just for my own amusement. The look of confusion from her was priceless, though it will likely cause me trouble once I make it up top. From there I grabbed hold of the service ladder and began to climb. The songs playing switched to something else while I was climbing, still rock and still intense. The ascent was slow, considering that my right hand did not want to be used, but I eventually made it to the the second to top floor, level nine. I crawled out of the elevator shaft. People scrambled everywhere to locate me, I'm guessing because the woman saw me on the third floor. As soon as I stepped out, I noticed a door marked "Stairs" only several meters down the hall. Also as soon as I stepped out, two Greaters rounded the corner.
"Here! She's-" one guy tried shouting over the music. I cut him short by blasting him with the shotgun. I hit him in a largely non vital area...I think. His friend crashed through a door to avoid the shot. I plucked a smokescreen grenade from my belt and hurled it. The hallway swiftly filled with thick, opaque white smoke. For added emphasis, I tossed a fragmentation grenade that direction as well. Before the boom went off, I ducked into the stairwell and prevented the door from slamming shut. Explosion. That should throw them into confusion for a moment, but my mind scolded me for possibly injuring yet more people. Shaking my head to dismiss the thought, I dashed up the stairs. There was no one above me on the stairs, but there were many people below. My running wouldn't sound out of place here.
At last, I arrived on the top floor. I quickly broke out of the stairs and sprinted down the halls. I had a large sense of familiarity with this floor because of Fake Arty's coaching, but I still watched for Greaters. One came into view, so I tripped him, elbowed him in the nose as he went down, then crashed down on his ankle in a way so as to fracture it once he was on the ground. I felt static build in the air, so I jump-rolled out of the way, leaving behind one of my few remaining smoke bombs. A girl came in view, partially obscured in smoke and coughing everywhere. I twirled her around me, bound her legs by chucking one of the tackwire rounds bola style, and kicked her into the thicker clouds of smoke. Based on how solidly I kicked and how little it affected her, my guess was that she was a tank. Doesn't matter. Keegan's room is just ahead. I approached the door, squinting from the blaring music, but stalled at opening it after hearing two sets of voices inside.
"Where is it? You hid it, didn't you?" The voice nearest to the door shouted.
I kicked the door in and shot the armed man in the legs without hesitation. I glanced to see the source of the other voice, a plainly dressed white guy wearing a "Goo Goo Dolls" shirt and jeans, a wrinkly, open button down plaid shirt over it, and holding a duffel bag slung across his shoulder. His round face had a slight shadow of unkempt whiskers, an angular nose, soft, slightly droopy brown eyes, and messy brown black hair. He opened his arms wide as if expecting a hug.
"Erin!" He said excitedly.
I punched him straight in the face. "That's for all the times I ever wanted to hit you! Now grab your stuff and come on!"
I locked on to the man that I just shot as he stood with an angry expression. Great, another tank. Something slid and hit my foot from Keegan's direction. A taser? I nimbly dodged and redirected a knife strike from the tank into the wall, scooped up the taser, and neutralized the tank. As I did, the music shut off. I checked the room to find Keegan exiting a bedroom and stuffing his music player in his pocket. He was now holding a second duffel bag and his one bloodied nostril, and he nodded toward the door as if to say "Ladies first."
I cleared the corners, tased the tank girl that I bound just moments ago, and blasted another approaching Greater in the legs. Gah! I forgot to not use my right hand for gunshots! It hurts! In that split second, Keegan grabbed my arm and pulled me down the non-smoking end of the halls.
"The elevators are that way!" I said.
He kept leading me away, until we found a second set of elevators. He clicked the button and waited patiently.
"What are you... This will take too long! I thought you said you had a fast way down to the underground!"
"Yeah..." He replied, holding his hand out to the elevator as if to say "This is it."
I grabbed my hair and fiddled with the band that held it back, to calm my feelings of danger. He's going to get us killed! We have to get to the sublevels, what is he doing here at a slow elevator? I can hear someone approaching. I readied my shotgun in my good hand.
A girl came in view, wearing
strange, techy armor and carrying a plasma type gun. Keegan put his hand on my weapon to keep me from firing, then stepped forward and held his other hand up to keep her from firing.
"Déplacer!" She yelled at Keegan.
"Dix-huitième Février, tu te souviens?" Keegan said.
The girl did not fire. She was aimed and ready to fire, but she didn't. Whatever he said seemed to stir in her soul. Slowly her gun lowered, and her face fell to looking at the ground. She mumbled slightly under her breath at about the same time the elevator arrived. We both grabbed our stuff and boarded, watching the girl stand there as we left. After the doors closed, Keegan pushed the button for sublevel one, then pulled a key out of his pocket and inserted it into a spot on the button panel. He turned the key and the panel buzzed, and we descended without stopping.
As we were descending, I rested against the wall and asked, "So what was that all about up there?"
He smiled and shrugged, but said nothing in reply.
"Look, this silent treatment is getting old," I commented.
He looked at me and raised his eyebrows while keeping his smile. He raised and pointed a finger towards the ceiling. I saw nothing.
"What are you pointing at?"
He gently raised his hand further as if poking an imaginary balloon, in unison with the ding of arriving at sublevel one. I looked away and shook my head.
We were now underground, in a docking bay of sorts. Small airships were grounded here and there, but the area was fairly locked down. He led me to a small ship painted silver and yellow, big enough to sit two people in the pilot's cabin and four more in a rear loading room. It had two small, high mount thrusters, and odd gadgets on the outside. Without hesitation, he opened it up and got inside. He sat in the pilot's seat, turned on the power, and entered on the main console a code: FF145. The craft powered up and the thrusters started. Full piloting capabilities were unlocked and he scooted to the passenger seat. Wow, he HAS spent a long time here.