by Jenna Payne
She got to her feet, rewrapping the white sheet around her body and tying it tightly in a knot. With her cascading black hair, sparkling green eyes, almond shaped face, and succulent pinkish lips that many men desired, she should have been a model or movie star instead of a Renegade Leader.
"Is she a cyborg too?" Micah asked him directly, placing herself in front of him once she looked decent enough.
His eyes did not even flicker downward. He looked into her green eyes with suspicion. "None of your business," he said curtly. "Why don't you just eat!" He motioned to the porridge that now lay in a mess on the tray.
"That's disgusting," Micah said. "Look. Listen to me. If you and I work together, we can climb out of here fast."
He almost laughed in her face. "I'm not stupid enough to fall for that."
"Have it your way." She shrugged with a smug look before walking toward the other side of the room.
He followed her with his eyes and watched in disbelief as she suddenly whipped out a belt- his belt! In a few seconds, she had latched it onto the long metal rod that hung from above and hoisted herself up. Gripping the rod, she kicked the opposite wall with both feet and forced herself up again to the other wall. She did the same and this time was able to raise toward the hole in the ceiling, throwing both of her legs over the gap and disappearing.
Before the furious cyborg could fully react, she had disappeared. He attempted to follow up but was unsuccessful. Micah disappeared and moments later the blanket dropped down through the hole and landed on the cyborg’s head. To his utter shock, she swiftly pulled up the entire pole too, leaving him trapped in the room.
*****
After a few minutes, Micah was confidently walking across a public park with a big, goofy smile on her face. She felt stupid, but had to put on the act to appear like the rest of the giddy, silly-looking folks around her. These "happy" people were everywhere, getting on her nerves and pushing her even more to finish her mission.
She was wearing a short yellow sundress she had stolen from a shop, along with a huge native hat and matching sunglasses. She had already cut her tresses short up to her chin and was now sporting a blonde hairdo. Even her eyes had been covered up with blue contact lenses. And with the different way she carried herself now, she was quite unrecognizable again.
In her disguise, she'd actually strolled into government offices and fished information from employees without causing any suspicion. Slowly, all the pieces were beginning to fall into place. All the research she had done the past year was now painting her the evil picture that the New Government was obviously gearing for.
She had lost all of her family, but she yearned to avenge their senseless, untimely deaths. They had all contributed to the Last American Renegades. And she had not been as fast in saving them. She carried that burden in her heart, and it was what fueled her to continue fighting.
She was back on the streets, passing by a restaurant, when she caught sight of her childhood best friend. Elise was seated inside the upscale Italian cafe, looking fine and dandy and very much happy with her husband and kids. As Micah watched her, something seemed to squeeze her heart tight. She remembered how the two of them had been inseparable when they were little girls. She recalled how Elise had actually been her idol when it came to being brave and standing up for what she believed was right.
Where are you in there, Elise? Micah wondered with sadness. She looked through the window at the beloved friend she had lost because they had chosen different paths when they were teenagers. Elise had become one of those "happy" people. But in the process, just like the others, she'd lost her uniqueness and humanity. She had lost her feisty spirit and her real self. She was now similar to a doll or a robot, just like the others.
It broke her heart to watch her friend looking so happy and at the same time knowing that it wasn't real. She turned around and was surprised to crash into something hard. She soon realized it was the bulky chest of a man with a familiar scent. She caught a whiff of the fragrance and immediately knew who it was. She looked up with a scowl at the cyborg who had caught her earlier.
"Hello, Micah," he greeted her, with a stern look. "I love your new look, but unfortunately, you're still under arrest."
Micah was taken aback. How the hell had he followed her? This guy was apparently not as stupid as she thought. She quickly considered her options at that very moment.
"There's no way out," he told her, sneering. "Other cyborgs are currently hidden, waiting to lunge at you and even kill you. But if you come with me voluntarily, I will make sure you live. At least for a few more days." He chuckled and wrapped one arm around her shoulder. She tried to shrug his arm off, but he made his grip firmer. She glowered but didn't argue anymore.
"How'd you find me?" she asked curiously, as they slowly walked away together.
"Your scent," he replied, without blinking or glancing at her.
Micah almost laughed. "So you're not just a cyborg, but a werewolf too!"
Her comment seemed to irritate him. He glared at her, his brown eyes flashing daggers. "You think you're so smart, huh? Well, it seems I outsmarted the infamous Micah Morgan. That blanket was covered with a scent that had easily transferred to you, a special scent that can last for days and can only be detected by a special device I have. So don't try anything funny now, because I'll still find you anywhere you go."
Micah was stunned and captivated at the same time. "Nice one," she muttered. "So, are you now going to turn me over to your bosses?"
"Still thinking about it," the cyborg replied curtly.
Micah was intrigued. She was at a loss. What was he planning with her? Suddenly she was filled with dread. For the first time in a long time, cold sweat broke out on her skin and an eerie sensation spread across her body.
They approached a crowded intersection then. The handsome cyborg in his formal security uniform motioned for her to cross the street with him and many others. She took the opportunity to try to slip away from him, slinking fast and getting lost amid the throng of smiling people.
But before she could get far, she felt a piercing pain shoot up her leg, making her stumble to the ground. The last thing she saw was the face of a pretty yet sullen girl, with dark brown eyes, looking down at her. Then, everything went black.
*****
For the second time that day, Micah found herself a captive again. Still in the yellow dress she had been wearing earlier, she woke up feeling dizzy and in pain. Her leg was throbbing, but there was no wound. There was no blood shed and yet she knew she had been shot by that girl. She reached out and rubbed her leg as her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness.
This time, she figured she was locked up in what appeared to be an old-fashioned cabin. The entire room was empty but made of thick logs. The lone window had been boarded up, but she could hear all sorts of animal and nature sounds that made her realize that she was in some forest. She'd lived a good part of her life in forests and mountains as a fugitive, so she knew the sounds by heart.
She tried to get up and go to the wooden door of the small cabin, but that was when she saw her feet had actually been tied to a wooden post that seemed thick and sturdy. She was able to stand and walk within a limited area, though, because the chain used on her was a bit long. It was a bulky metal chain wrapped around her ankles and padlocked.
Suddenly, the door opened. Five men entered, led by the cyborg she now greatly disliked. Behind the men was the girl she'd seen right before she had blacked out. She sauntered forward and stood beside the cyborg. That was when Micah saw the resemblance. This must be the sister, Shelley. She looked quite young, probably just in her teens, and was not wearing the cyborg police uniform. The other men were all in uniform, though.
"I see you're awake," the head cyborg said, with a grin. "I'd like you to meet my cyborg team. And of course, my sister Shelley, who always helps out with my projects and missions as she is training to be a part of our police force soon."
Micah narrowed her
eyes at all of them. "Why are you keeping me here?" she asked suspiciously.
"You should be grateful," her cyborg captor shouted at her, then composed himself and said, "If I turned you over now, you'd be dead in no time. Do you know that you're one of the priority fugitives that we are supposed to kill on sight?"
"So?" Micah asked defiantly.
"So, you should be thankful that we're keeping you alive by bringing you here…"
"I don't care," she spit out.
The cyborg laughed and then motioned for everybody to leave the room. He strode toward her and leaned forward with a look of annoyance until their faces were just inches away from each other.
Micah's breath caught in her throat. Her green eyes widened and she couldn't help the rise of her body temperature. This man was surely different from many of the other cyborgs she had encountered, and fought. What bothered her the most was the way he seemed to affect her. But what gave her some satisfaction too was the realization that she seemed to have the same effect on him.
"You're certainly a handful," he whispered, his look of exasperation shifting into one of interest and curiosity. "I want to know more about you and why you're doing this. I want to gather information on your renegade team, which you will give to me willingly."
"Why would I do that?" Micah asked angrily, meeting his intense gaze and then feeling her heartbeat racing wildly. She didn't know if it was some sort of attraction or she just hated his guts. Even her anger was now quick to manifest and she was having difficulty controlling her emotions around this guy.
"I know you don't have any more family left so I cannot use them to threaten you," he began slowly, his face moving even closer. "I know that you probably wouldn't care less for your own life, although you would surely fight to the death. And I also know very well how passionate you are about what you are fighting for."
Micah waited for him to go on. His closeness was sort of distracting her, though, but she struggled to remain focused. Besides, his little speech was making her totally intrigued.
"You're going to give me all the information I want because I just might be able to help you with your own mission," he said, breathing heavily.
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. But more than the weird reaction of her body to this, she was most definitely dumbfounded. What the hell was he talking about?
He leaned in closer and spoke, his voice almost penetrating her skin. "Make me understand your mission, Micah," he said in a serious tone. When he took on that serious tone, his voice was intoxicating. She wanted him to speak to her more in that tone.
Micah tried to read his face, her eyes sweeping from his intense brown eyes down to the bridge of his nose and to the strong features of his jaws and finally to his tempting mouth, surrounded by stubble. She was intrigued… and lost.
"Release me first," she demanded. "Unlock this chain around my feet."
"No," the cyborg immediately answered. He pulled away, turned and began to walk away, finally making her breathe normally.
But then she realized that she now had to use her intellect rather than letting her pride get in the way. "Fine," she gave in loudly. "After I tell you my mission, you've got to unlock the chain."
He stopped walking. Slowly turned around, a smile playing on his lips. "Deal," he said, leaning against the nearest wall and folding his muscular arms across his chest. "Go on."
"The New Government is planning something really bad. It's going to destroy humanity. I want to put a stop to it."
The cyborg's mouth dropped open. Then, he was bursting out laughing. "You're crazy," he said, shaking his head in amusement.
Micah felt enraged. How dare he laugh at her life mission! "You know nothing," she seethed.
"Enlighten me…" he said, opening his arms wide in a mocking gesture.
She glowered at him. "I told you my mission. Unlock the chain now."
He looked at her incredulously. "You have to make me understand first."
"Look. I promise to explain further, but you have to do two things first- release my feet and take me seriously."
When the cyborg saw that she was dead serious, he stopped laughing, pulled the key from his pocket. He walked toward her and stooped down in front of her, and unlocked the chain. Without any reaction, she shook her feet and flexed them. She did some lunges to shake off the pain and discomfort. Then she stood up straight only to feel a laser gun pointed at her temple. She instantly threw her hands in the air. "I'm not going to run, okay! I can keep promises."
He did not remove the gun. "Just making sure," he said. "Sit on the floor, now."
Micah stood her ground, ignoring him and even stretching her arms and legs. She then leaned back against the wall and faced him.
He remained standing in front of her, but his face carried a serious look of fury. She simply smiled back at him. He crossed his arms and faced her squarely. "Fine. Go ahead. Speak."
She found his actions amusing and felt herself being pulled in by his charisma. She pushed the feelings aside and began to tell him of her life passion. "My mission is to expose the New Government. Do you really think feeding people the happy pill will actually improve their lives and make the world a better place to live in? It's just turning humans into robots, for Christ's sake! I know for a fact that you cyborgs don't take those pills but are brainwashed through chips inserted in your brains. Were you even aware of it?"
"Yes," he answered.
Her voice grew louder as she continued. "See? You don't even care because you blindly follow them. Those in power have plans to build a world of robot slaves. When the pills are not taking effect on some people, they kill them without any remorse. They have no heart for these ordinary men and women, or even children. What about rebels like me? They would not hesitate to kill anybody who crosses them or speaks against them."
"I know," he said, nodding in agreement. "I've been getting restless myself because of our rulers' ways. The men you met earlier feel the same."
Micah started at him in surprise. Then she narrowed her eyes, doubting his sincerity. He could very well be making it up or just leading her on to gain her trust. She would never divulge the details she had gathered in her research.
"I know you don't trust me. I wouldn't trust me either if I were you…"
She stared at him, astonished and apprehensive.
"We couldn't do our own research inside, of course…" he continued cautiously, "but we did get some data that might be of interest to you. We can exchange information… or we can choose to work together."
Micah was silent. After about a minute, she simply said, "I'll think about it."
*****
Micah woke up with a start in the middle of the night, sweating and panting. It's just a dream. She tried to console herself, forcing her breathing into normal speed once again. She could still picture her former best friend Elise, and other people she knew, smiling at her creepily, moving in on her as the New Government controlled them. "Kill Micah, kill Micah, kill Micah…" they were chanting in her nightmare.
When she was feeling calm again, she closed her eyes and focused on returning to sleep. She turned and twisted on the wooden floor but could not go back to sleep anymore. It wasn't as if she was not used to lying down on hard surfaces. She'd slept in far worse conditions before. Perhaps it was just everything that had happened that was bothering her. Or maybe it was what awaited her in the future.
"Ugh," she muttered, finally sitting up and rubbing her eyes. As her vision adjusted, she saw a fresh set of clothes that had been left for her. She changed quickly into the gray hiking pants and loose black shirt. She smoothed her blonde chin-length locks with her fingers and went to the door. When she tried to push it open, she was not surprised to find that it was locked.
She didn't want to cause any commotion so she didn't dare try to break the door down. She looked around for something to pick the lock with, but she could not find anything. Next, she attempted to peel off the wooden panels
that had been used to board up the window. To her joy and relief, it worked. Her efforts were paying off and she could already smell freedom nearing.
Fresh air blasted from the early dawn atmosphere, giving Micah a chill. She climbed out the window soundlessly and was surprised to discover that there was no one around. She followed the nearest trail to the dense clusters of trees. The moon above her gave enough illumination so she didn't have any problem finding her way and watching out for potential dangers.
All of a sudden, a series of gun shots sounded, piercing the quiet night. It was followed by, what sounded like a female, letting out a bloodcurdling scream, filling Micah with unexpected terror. She shuffled faster along the trail, but the next screams of fright and pain made her pause and reconsider.
The sounds were coming from her left, so she turned to that direction. She could hear whimpering sounds growing louder. She was getting closer.
Under one of the tall trees, she found the cyborg crouched down beside his sister. Shelley's arm was bleeding profusely. "It's going to be okay," he whispered to her, as he took off the top of his uniform and threw it aside. He was wearing an undershirt which he quickly ripped off and wrapped around the open wound tightly.
A few feet behind them lay a lifeless body on top of dried leaves. He was wearing the same cyborg police uniform, one of the men who had been introduced to her. Why is he dead? Her mind was racing.
Her eyes went back to the head cyborg who had captured her. Taking care of his sister, he appeared to be a totally different person. It was his gentle, caring side showing. It made him so much more human than most people living in the new cities. It was genuine compassion, not the effect of some special drug.
Something drew him to her. The scene unfolding in front of her made her want to help instead of run away. So she decided to stay.