Evanesce

Chapter Three
Alone

I woke several times during the night, once or twice to sounds I had to check on, but must have imagined. I doubt anyone found me, or if they did they left me alone. I didn't think I was in the clear yet. Only an idiot would think that. Still, I was free, and didn't have anything for them to hold against me. I was confident that I had nothing to lose but my freedom or my life. Not that I really wanted to die, but I'd held my life as forfeit once and I guessed I could do it again if I truly had to.

In the morning, I crawled carefully from my hiding place. I was still fairly tired and more than a little hungry, but I knew that I had to get some proper clothes before all else. Wandering around in the clothes I had for too long would draw suspicion. I needed a proper USMF uniform. That required wandering around anyway.

I stood in the alley, trying to decide what to do. I was confident that I'd be able to hide in plain sight if I could look the part. I'd need to be careful, but I knew I could pull it off. I remembered the general areas that I used to frequent, and perhaps could find old friends. I then realized I'd been gone for at least three years, and most of my friends had new assignments or had been killed.

I decided against stealing someone's laundry in favor of a better idea. Instead I started towards the part of the city that overlapped; where both the military and civilian supply warehouses were. I kept in the alleys when I could, and managed to make it to my destination without having to see more than four people, none of which gave me a second glance.

There were few employees at the warehouses, and only a few guards per two storage buildings. The government was near totalitarian and the population over sixty percent military. Most things were issued, even to civilians. Anything that was extra or needed to be replaced had to be paid for. I doubted that what I borrowed would be missed too badly. An accountant would probably be blamed for it, or he'd make up the numbers or something.

I stole two clean uniforms, a pair of boots, and three changes of casual clothes, as well as a ruck to carry them in. I didn't take anything else, I couldn't think of much I needed. And I could always come back and help myself if I thought of something. Not that I felt good about it….

I felt that my situation brightened up considerably by the time I was back in my alley. Okay, so maybe it wasn't really my alley, but it was a place to stay.

I looked around to make sure no one else was around before changing into one of my clean uniforms and putting on my new boots. I stuffed the civvies in the bag and hid that in the hole. I wondered what to do with my hair, which had noticeably grown since my confinement. It used to brush my shoulders, now it fell a few inches below them.

"Feet," the voices said. I looked down at my feet and tried to figure out what they meant by that. All I saw were my boots. I passed it off with the rest of the garbled nonsense that I kept hearing from them.

"Shoes."

Suddenly understanding, I got the old shoes out of the backpack. I unlaced one and used the lace as a sort of hairband. It wasn't the best, but it would keep my hair out of my way. The shoes and the bag went back into hiding and I nervously started on my way.

I went to the commissary, and took the chance of trying to buy food with my MPA number. I was astonished to discover my account had nearly a year's salary on it. There wasn't much of a selection, but I bought what I needed and left as quickly as I could. After that I felt a little guilty for my previous theft.

Back to my alley I went. I knew the food wasn't anything unusual, and it was the same crap the military and half the civilians always got. I guess I couldn't really complain, though. I was eating after all.

"Look up,"

I was halfway through my meal, for lack of a better term, when I noticed the cat. It had white fur and was watching me expectantly with its sapphire eyes. There was a dark green collar around its neck with a small metal tag affixed to it.

"I don't think you'll like this," I told the cat, offering it some of my provisions, "But go for it."

To my surprise, the animal devoured the food voraciously. I shared the rest of what I intended to eat with it. When we were finished, I expected it to go away. It didn't. I ended up with the cat on my lap, and with me petting it for some time. The tag on its collar read 'USMF: Research and Psychology – Ghost.'

I wondered about that, not quite liking it. I toyed with the collar, trying to find a clasp or something, but it didn't seem to have one. I held the cat still and searched for my pocketknife before realizing I didn't have it. It was probably with everything else I'd owned, and God only knew where that stuff was. It kind of made me sad because the knife had sentimental value, as stupid as it sounds. It was a gift from the person I admired most growing up.

"Sorry, cat," I mumbled, "Looks like the collar stays." I let it go and watched as it sauntered off to wherever it was going.

I sat there and mused over what to do for a while. I needed to find my captain. He would be with Dr. Ross, I guessed. So find one and find the other. An idea suddenly occurred to me and I trembled at the thought. Suppose he told me to go back? Suppose he'd put me there in the first place….

It wasn't something I wanted to think about. I wouldn't be going back. He wouldn't have done such a thing anyway.

I found myself wandering the streets of the martial side of the city. I didn't see anything unusual, and I stayed far away from the science section.

I found myself walking up to one of the barracks buildings. The difference between this one and the one I was camped behind was about ten stories. Officers had nicer places than the rest of us. This building was familiar as well.

"Kristina," the whispers supplied. Yeah, she lived here, or used to. Last I knew she still did. I blinked at the large building. Maybe she was still here.

She lived on the top floor, in the seventeenth room. That was about all I knew from the last three months, that and she had got engaged to some scientist. Three months not counting however long I'd been… away.

I walked into the building and found the nearest elevator. There were a few people that joined me inside, but it didn't bother me that much. I was closest to the control panel and even got to push the buttons. Joy. I wasn't interested in the other people, and stared at the buttons. I was playing events over in my mind again, trying to figure things out. I started from that morning, and went backwards from there.

Two people got off at floor three, one at five, and one at six. Which left me and a guy going to the eighth floor. The door opened as the first of the bitter memories from the hanger started. I stared dully out the door as the man left the lift and walked down the hall, and I suddenly felt cold. Not cold as in the northern territories in December, but cold like the lingering terror of a bad dream.

Neil Fleming had just stepped off the elevator. I didn't know what to think, or what to feel. I guess I was glad, in a strange way. Predominant, though, was a strong sense of fear. I'd seen him die.

I remained uncertain as the door closed, and the damn voices weren't helping matters. Ignoring their warnings, I stopped the elevator before it moved and got off on that floor. I followed the hallway until it turned and stared disbelieving.

"Disappointment… regret,"

I didn't understand what they meant. Neil was there, trying to open a door with some difficulty. It was kinda understandable I guess, seeing as he was trying to carry a sizable box at the same time. Maybe the disappointment was because I was actually happy to view the sight.

My first attempt to say something failed miserably as I approached. Although I would have wished to sound a little bolder, my second attempt succeeded.

"Hey, Neil," I called out. He turned his head and blinked at me before replying.

"Yeah?" He managed to get the door open and motioned to the room beyond, almost dropping the box in the process. I couldn't sort anything out to say. He went into the room and I followed.

I looked around, but interest faded as I realized it was just an average soldier's room. A little customized, but with little to show for its size. It was kept pretty organized, despite the fact that there were a lot of boxes and things taking up much of the room. Neil dropped the box he was carrying and I thought I heard something break before he kicked it under the bed.

"What was that?" I asked, still rather overwhelmed.

"Somethin' I'm supposed to have fixed by tomorrow," he answered, as though it was nothing important.

"And should you really be treating it that way?" I sounded reprimanding I guess, but old habits die hard.

"I think I know what's the matter with it," he responded confidently, and turned his attention fully to me, "What can I help you with?"

"Careful," was whispered by the voices, which were starting to aggravate the hell out of me.

I didn't answer him, though, because I suddenly realized how he was looking at me. I'd seen this look of his before and understood it quite well. I don't know if he knew he did it, but it was something he always did when addressing a stranger. He was trying to discern how to talk to me, Neil was always rather cautious around people he didn't know.