The men moved down the sidewalk with robotic gestures, letting the flashlights flicker into the alleys and drive the monsters away. Dad pushed me back with one arm so that his body would feel the wrath first if they found us anytime soon. Then, without turning to face me, he gave some rapid hand signals, which were followed by a curt nod asking, "Do you understand?"
In truth, it had been a long time since I had seen the military hand gestures known only to Manticore protégé; the last incident that was in close recollection had to be when I was twelve, and Dad was playing a practice session of Search and Destroy with me. Although, I didn't understand what that meant at the time-I assumed it to be a game of Hide-n-Seek against Mom-Dad used those hand signals with me, but had told me what they meant at the time.
Now, standing in a dark, dusty alley with a pounding heart that racked my entire body, I understood what Dad was telling me without saying a word. "Escape. I'll take them. We'll meet back at the rendezvous point."
I nodded in affirmation to Dad's response as he glanced over his shoulder to see my response, and he gently pushed me away. Hurriedly, I skittered down the tiny passage, blind and lost. My dress was ripped and dirty, while my hair hanged clumsily in my face, greasy and oily from fear sweat soaking through me. I must have looked like the average junkyard whore. How could I have sunk so low?
Behind me, I heard Dad moving around, waiting for the precise moment to pounce, but the sound of his presence was becoming quieter as I moved away. Silently, I prayed that he would remain safe. It wasn't him personally that I was worried about because I knew what he was capable of, it was that I wasn't sure just how much damage those damn tasers could cause. Were they really as bad as Dad said? Or was he just over-exaggerating to get me out of the picture? Either way, I saw it best to leave.
In the darkness and with my klutzy shoes, I tripped over a pile of garbage that had built up in a rancid corner, causing cans inside to clang with unexpected noise. From a location that I was unable to pinpoint, came a cry of "Over there!". Scrambling to stand up, I pushed against the pile of filth, which caused dirty baby diapers and brown leather orange peels to crawl underneath my nails. Again, I tripped over the spilt mess and fell backwards. This time, I couldn't sit and be prissy about my looks or the environment because I saw flashlight beams swooping down the alley, searching for me. In one violent jerk, I ripped the shoes right off my feet and began to run.
I've been afraid before, so it's not like fear was a new emotion to me. But, pure horror was something rare with the knowledge of my abilities. The only person I had ever met from Manticore was Renfro, and now she was dead. Yet, suddenly, others of the same spawn were chasing me down a dark alley in the middle of New York City, with the world a pitch black. My heart pounded in my ears, deafening me, while sweat ran down my back, covering Dad's jacket in a sick odor. All I wanted was to go home. If I had had time to contemplate the fact of how truly terrified I was, I probably would have vomited in a corner. As was, my stomach burned with raw acid, threatening to up-heave out of my throat.
Just as I turned a corner, digging my toes into the grimy dirt, with my breath coming out in raspy hisses, a flashlight appeared, blinding me, so that I was forced to cover my eyes, accompanied by a pair of strong hands on my shoulders that were determined to kill me or at least torture me until death was my only wish.
And I screamed.
Out of nowhere, Dad flew, pushing the Manticore man away from me. He pounced on the man and started reaching for his throat, threatening to kill the soldier. I stood, paralyzed by shock and hysteria, until Dad bellowed, "Run, 'Lanza, run!"
I had just turned around to start running away when there was a buzzing sound that seemed strangely alien to the environment. Reversing directions, I found Dad, frozen, as his limbs splayed frantically. His eyes rolled wildly in his sockets, bugging out of his skull, while he fell to the ground, madly seizing. Tiny threads cut into his flesh, crippling him as he lay in the dirt, burning from agony, and shaking.
Forgetting his order to leave, I rushed towards him, falling on my knees by him. "Dad!" I screamed, fearing that he was dead. "Dad!" But, by the time I had reached him, he had stopped moving and lay, motionless, next to a squalid pile of waste.
In the darkness, I saw the man taking aim at me. "You son of a bitch!" I cried and launched myself at him. Suddenly, my leg began madly twitching, yet I wasn't sure why, followed by my arms. The next thing I knew, more tasers had centered themselves on me and were determined to bring me down.
Fighting against the intense pain, I clawed at the men, struggling to push them away. The tasers were made for normal X5s and the remaining X-series, which I was not. Mom had always said that I was far stronger than any creation of Manticore could ever hope to be; I was supposed to the nuclear warhead in Lydecker's genetically hyped up army that could withstand anything. This was probably why I was able to throw my seizing body upon one of the men and start to pull his hair out.
There was an abrupt flash, followed by a chorus of three grunts and I was on my back, pressed against a wall. Blood dribbled through my hair, pooling around the curvatures of my nose, all of which I ignored. I wanted to both cry and scream that something like this was happening; it didn't seem real.
As I contemplating suicide, soft hands touched my bloody face, and someone, an angel, was whispering, "Alanza, are you all right?"
Syl.
"How did you-What are you doing here?" I asked, wanting neither to stand nor lie there any longer.
"Don't worry 'bout that. We gotta go."
She tried to pull me to my feet, but I refused to leave. "No, I need to help."
"Alanza, you're not going to make it just lying here. Krit and Case got it covered."
"No they-Watch out!" I screamed as I saw one of the men coming up from behind Syl. Just as she twisted around, I flew into the air, literally soaring above his head, then landing on his shoulders, which forced him to the ground. With a vicious smash, I pounded the side of his head in, so that his body immediately went slack.
Whipping around to my right, I grabbed an approaching soldier by the wrists. He kicked me in the shins with steel-toed boots so that I shrieked in pain. Loosening my grip, he fired a taser at me, forcing me to halt right in my tracks.
Just then, another body slammed into me, so that we fell to the ground together. My chest burned, and I tasted both blood and salt in my mouth as the wind became knocked out of me.
The taser, having lost me as its victim, began to search in the darkness. The person who had saved me, did something utterly amazing. Balancing on the palms of their hands, they propelled their legs up into the air, wrapped them around the soldier's neck, which knocked the Manticore man unconscious as he hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Jumping back up in a flash, the person grabbed an approaching man by the shoulders, flipped them over, then clutched the man's head in their hands and slammed their kneecap right into the enemy's nose, causing the soldier to collapse. After the men had fallen, the person snapped the tasers in two pieces with their bare hands.
Then, they came over to me, crouching down and grabbing me by the hands. "Alanza?" they whispered in a fear-pinched voice.
"Case…"
"We need to leave."
In the distance, I saw a figure limping towards us, assisted by another. Illuminated by the harsh streetlights, the two blacken shadows moved unsteadily closer. With Case's help, I rose to my feet.
"Who's there?" I asked, unsure if I really should even be speaking or not.
"It's us," a mangled voice called back, which I recognized as Krit's.
Case quickly moved towards his uncle before the older man fell from pain and exhaustion. As I came closer the trio, Krit nodded in my direction.
"Zack's over there."
"Over where?" I asked.
"Closer to the sidewalk. We'll have to get 'im back to the hotel."
"Without anyone seeing us," Syl added.
"Well then, let's get going. I don't want to wait around here much longer," Case reasoned, and we slowly moved back out under the illumination.
Case and I, being the ones that weren't hurt too badly, managed to lug Dad's seemingly grossly heavy body back to the hotel. I had Dad underneath the arms, while Case clutched the ankles. There was no one at the desk anymore, but a greasy janitor eyed us over with cocaine in his pupils. Smiling the best that I could, despite the situation at the moment, I pretended to laugh. "Some costume party, huh, guys? Glad we won the contest for best costume."
Case caught on and grinned crookedly, showing what an outstanding actor he really was. "Looks like Sam had too much to drink, though," he said, referring to Dad.
"Kris too," Syl added.
The janitor, being slightly in his own delusional world, stared blankly at us, but didn't bother to call the cops. He merely let us walk on by as Case and I kept the conversation flowing about the different kinds of costumes at the "party". Only an idiot would have fallen for an act as lame as the one we put on.
Once up to our floor, Case and I put Dad back into his own room, while Syl took Krit to their bed. When asked if she needed help, Syl shook her head, telling me that "I might want to get cleaned up".
Case was already back in our shared room, gazing into the bathroom mirror at himself. There was a jagged rip up the edge of his pants where blood stitched the fabric together, while his arms were a puzzle of odd colored bruises and scars. He favored his right arm, while the left one hanged at a bizarre angle. Surprisingly, his face was untouched, but I could tell that the pain was still immense. He looked as though he wasn't sure whether to scream in fury or burst into tears.
"Case?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.
He turned away from the mirror in reluctance and arched an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"For saving me."
"It was the least I could do," he replied, turning back to the mirror. "Besides…" he began, but stopped as Syl hobbled in. She hadn't bothered to clean herself up yet and walked with a severe limp, while her lip bled as if someone had taken it and shoved it through a blender on puree. She could barely breathe, but wouldn't stop trying.
"Alanza?"
"Yes?"
"Zack…wants to see…you…" she rasped, trying to hold herself up.
Walking closer to her, I held her bony shoulders in my hands. "You need to get some rest."
"But Krit-"
"I'll watch Krit," Case replied.
"I-" Syl began.
"Please," I urged, "get a shower, go to bed. Just take care of yourself. Please?"
She nodded reluctantly, and, with my help, made it back to her room, where she went into the bathroom. Not long after the door had closed, I heard the faint sound of running water.
Krit was still lying on the bed, and, for the first time, I noticed how abominable his war wounds were. His face was glistening with both blood and sweat. His torn sweater revealed a crimson scar across his lower abdomen, while his body contorted with pain and anguish. As much I wanted to help him, there was nothing that I could do.
Slowly, I made my way to Dad's room, where I found him, sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard. There was a stream of blood dripping out of his hair from a lost cut, while a dark bruise spread over the lower half of his face. Seeing me, he lifted his head as if it were an iron ball. "'Lanza…" he whispered weakly, reaching for my hand.
I grasped his clammy hand in my hand and knelt down beside him. "Are you ok, Dad?" I asked.
He nodded. "I need to leave though."
"Leave?" I echoed.
"Yes, I have to-" he paused as he winced against the pain. "I need to find out what's happening."
"What do you mean?"
"This wasn't just a coincidence. Manticore people know that we're still around and want us after how many years. They obviously want to finish what they started so many years ago."
"Dad, you're in no shape to fight."
"I can too," he shot back, trying to rise stiffly to his feet as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
"And where do you plan to go?"
"I don't know yet."
"Don't you die on me."
"I won't." He smiled faintly as if he had just come out of a dream that pleased him. "Can I have my jacket back? Please?"
Numbly, I shook out of it and handed it to him. "Good luck," I said softly.
"You take care of yourself 'Lanza."
"I will, Dad."
He paused, taking in all of what had happened and rose to his feet. He began to hobble severely down the hallway, still bloody and bruised, but never faltering in what his mission really was; he would die protecting his family. It was in that moment that I realized I would never see him again. Never. He would be far too busy with Manticore, so family would come second. A single tear fell down my cold cheek, so I left Dad's room, along with the memories, and went to find Case.
He was looking out our massive window as he had done only a day before, but this time was cradling his broken arm like a child. Case would have words of wisdom, for me, I figured, but, approaching him, I saw that he was wiping at his eyes, trying to deny that he had ever been crying.
"Case?" I whispered, resting my hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"This," he sniffed.
"I know, it's bugging me too."
"No," he responded, turning to face me. His eyes were so strangely placid in the stark streetlight, which filtered in from the world below, that I gasped instinctively. "No, this is my fault."
"What?"
"Alanza, don't you understand? This is my fault. I could have stopped it and I didn't. Now, you're all paying for it because of what I brought about."
