Chapter one
(three months later)
Friggin' A.
A moan emerged from beneath a heap of tousled stripped sheets, a hand flailing out blindly towards the right of a precariously piled stash of aspirin bottles. Muddled fingers found their mark and ended the shrieking of an elderly alarm clock that looked out over the bed. Anna groaned, not even bothering to open her eyes.
Really. This whole plan to become an alcoholic really sucked. Mostly because of a little thing called hangovers.
Sheets flew, and a disgruntled bleached blond forged a path towards the bathroom. Not bothering to glance in the cracked mirror, she stripped and stumbled into the shower. A small compact body slid down the wall of the stall, coming to rest at the end of a warm spray of water. Risking more pain, she blearily opened her eyes. She hadn't turned on the overhead upon entering the small bathroom, so the only source of light trickled in from the street lamp below her bedroom window. The room was very dark, and felt hollow. She closed her eyes.
She stayed prone until her mind prodded her to take action. She washed her short thick hair briefly, taking no pleasure in the action. Rinsed and relatively clean, she exited and dried herself.
It was 6:35am. And life looked just as it did seven hours ago before she passed out. Come to think of it, life had looked the same for quite a while now.
"Stop it," she hissed, tossing on dark slacks and a worn scarlet dress shirt. She would prefer to keep her mind pleasantly blank, and she tried to do so as she headed out the door. She stepped out onto a dank and damp rail stairway. Glancing down at the street below, a few cars traveled the lonely path of the darkened alleyway that served as a driveway to her home. Well... more an attic than a home, but hell, home was where the heart was.
She snickered, her feet making little noise as she made her way down the metal stairway to the ground some forty feet below. She stopped suddenly, hand gripped the steal banister firmly.
Flashing of color and /pain/ -
Anna blinked rapidly, gritting her teeth. This was not the hangover. This was probably some dammed /brain tumor/ or something, cause these headaches, fast, fiery and agonizing, were happening all the more frequently. But for fuck's sake, having bloody visions of dancing fairies while walking out to her car?
Christ. Time to see a doctor. Why the hell not. She had the money. Shaking her head, she quickly made her way downstairs to the street and clambered into her old ford.
Its bad when one does not remember car rides. Per say, its quite bad when one second you're in your car, starting the engine and the next second, you're parked outside your workplace. Probably not a good thing. One day, she was going to kill someone blanking out like that. It wasn't anything abnormal. She just. faded out when she drove.
Shrugging on a dress coat, she stepped out into the world. The sun had yet to show, mostly hidden from the towering buildings and still cloud-covered sky. Her building wasn't one of the largest, a simple software firm that stayed in it's place by supplying anti-virus protection programs and some simple application things. She did her job. She got paid. End of story there.
The elevator was actually quite fast in seeing to her needs this morning, and she stepped on in relative quiet.
The ride was uneventful. Glancing down, she gripped her briefcase tightly. Fortunately, prior to the point of no return, when things went numb, she'd saved her charts and progress report to a disk that rested snugly in her case. Well, that was encouraging. It was nice to keep her job. Actually the work was. bland. A dull cubicle among a hundred just like it. In a world with a million people, all a like.
She needed to get out more or something. This world was so damn depressing.
The elevator door gave a pacified beep, and she stepped into the wonderful world of office work. She straightened her shirt and made her way to her cubical. It was quiet today. more so than usual. Quirking an eyebrow, Anne glanced around, and noted how everyone remained intensely focused in their work, staring holes in their pcs.
Strange.
Her cubical was stark, like all the others. A small Polaroid of her father was scotch taped to her file cabinets and an empty coffee mug rested beside her monitor. She sat heavily, turned on her pc and tried to looked behind her without really looking. There was nothing. No talking, no motion. It was damn creepy.
Risking unspoken death, she stood while her computer began to boot up. Frowning, she stepped next door, slithering into her friend and college's cubical.
"Hey, Matt. What's going on?" She asked in a hushed voice, hunching low in the tiny square office, though she was short enough to where she really didn't need to.
Matt was a vet in the company, a twenty-seven year old computer programmer and a ULCA grad. More importantly, he was a close friend with a soft sense of human, and honestly, damn good looks. He looked away from his screen, his dark gray eyes softening at her approach.
"Hey there, almost birthday girl," he said quietly, his low voice barely a rumble.
Anna smiled sheepishly, not expecting him to remember.
"Well, It's still a day or two away, but hey. What's going on?" She asked, her green eyes flashing upwards briefly as she rubbed her shoulders.
"Ah." Matt replied, waving a hand outwards. "A bunch of Feds' showed up earlier today. They're talking to the boss in his office. It's kinda. no, /they're/ kinda creepy," he explained, sipping a diet coke and stabbing a single finger at his keyboard. "We dunno what's going on. Whatever it is, it must be big to bring the suit guys in." He chuckled, weeding through his email. "Go back to your pc, let me send you this article on this joke, it's funny." Matt grinned, scratching at his perfectly tripped dark sideburns.
Anne rolled her eyes, but for some reason the movement sparked a headache. She winced, getting back into her chair and entering her passwords to gain access to the network. She closed her eyes, a sudden pang of her headache throbbing painfully before receding again into the recess of her consciousness. She reached for a bottle of aspirin that lay in her desk drawn. She dry swallowed them just as the boss's office door opened.
Many pairs of eyes peered from behind cubical walls and copy machine rooms. Anna opened her eyes and glanced behind her, listening and watching.
Oh, shit. It was Michael.
Michael was another good friend, a writer, a journalist for the firm. Another handsome young man that had graced her with is quiet friendship, she winced in sadness when he was escorted out of the room by two suited men.
Aww, hell. What did he do? He looked like hell, disheveled and his glasses quirked on his slender nose. Anna adverted her gaze as the troop marched passed her, and turned when she thought they were past only to find more coming. A fed, a tall one with dark hair turned as he passed, catching her gaze. Light passed through his glasses as he seemed to move in slow motion. She sat, frozen, as his ice blue eyes held her own. Through her headache, she thought, she could swear -
She jammed her eyes shut, trying to either forget or remember, she didn't know which. Her body leaned forward and her fingers touched her head.
She grunted softly, opening her eyes to find the man standing in her office. Some part of her brain reacted and she stiffened, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. The man was far taller than even her cubicle wall, his stare unnerving and his poster radiating hostility. God, where had she seen him before? Surely she would have remembered.
His lips twitched upwards into what appeared to be a sneer from her sitting position. Her back pressed against her chair as she tried to recoil.
"Have we. met?" He asked in a slow almost inhuman monotone. From her vantage point, she could see his eyes, the irises boring into her head.
She would have tried to answer, in whatever meek voice she could manage, but a blinding white flash of pain flashed before her eyes. A choked squeak escaped her throat.
Matt heard the soft noise, his ear pressed up against the wall. He stood quickly, and after a hesitant breath, shoved the fed aside. His eyes widened at Anna's pained expression, her hand clutching her head.
"Anna!" He hissed, his hands coming up to her shoulders and squeezing. She gasped, eyes flying open. Confused crossed her face, her eyes moving from the blurry man behind a crouching Matt.
"What is it, Anna? What's wrong?" He asked, fingers pressing into her red shirt. Behind him, the fed remained expressionless, but apparently interested in the ordeal. Matt swallowed, trying to keep his poster lax and normal.
He had to get out of there. And get her out of there now. This was about as dangerous a situation as there could be.
Without another word, he scooped her up and tried to calm his racing heart, catching the Agent right in the eyes with his own as he walked past, into the hall. The Agent's gaze pierced Matt's back as they departed. Frowning, Smith followed after his subordinates, and downstairs. The tall Agent exited the elevator just in time to see the virus "Matthew Williams" gently tuck the girl into a car and drive off, but not before glaring as the man cast Smith one last look.
Jones was waiting for him by the sedan, with Michael N. Kinh secured in the back seat.
"Brown is waiting for us, and is setting up for interrogation," Jones informed Smith, both standing beside the car, while Michael glanced up at them from the seat. He swallowed and prayed he would have a quick death. Perhaps Smith picked up on his expression, for the man looked down against the reflection and sneered at the resistant.
The Agents departed with their hostage.
5:42pm Wood County Hospital
Anna groaned.
Wincing, she opened her eyes to a bright light. And noise.
"Anna?" A soft, low voice asked. She blinked, turning her head to one side. Oh. She was lying down. When the hell had that happened?
"Matt? What's going on?" She asked, leaning forward. She glanced down, thankful to be in her own clothing. She gathered that she was in a doctor's office or something of that nature. Question was, how did she get there? Lord. She was having really messed up memory problems lately.
"Thank god. I was so worried. You've been out for hours, though we don't know why. Doctors did lots of tests, blood tests, physical tests. the results aren't back yet," Matt explained, his eyes glancing warily about the single room. "Look. I have got to get you out of here. Now. There are things. we need to talk about and I think we're running out of time."
She frowned, noting the intensity in her friend's voice. "Alright," She said slowly, leaning forwards. "I'm assuming you're going to tell me what happened as soon as we leave, right?" She asked, shakily swinging her legs over the bedside.
"I promise. But so much. just shit. is going on right now. And it's just not safe here. We need to go, now," the twitchy programmer insisted, grasping her arms and helping the disheveled girl to her feet. Her feet hit the floor ungracefully and she squinted.
"What's wrong with you, Anna?" Matt murmured as he helped her to her feet.
"Real honestly? I have not a clue. I just. thought they were headaches," Anna insisted, following behind the taller man as they escaped the hospital room. The pair tried to look inconspicuous as they stealthily sneaked past the nurses desk.
"Well we don't have time to figure it out now," he said lowly, stepping forward.
"Why are we being so discreet again?" She whispered to his back, glancing around and then finding her reflection in a mirror on the wall. Oh wow. Her hair was sticking up in like ninety directions. That's attractive. She made a disgusted face as they jogged past.
"You'll see," Matt murmured as he took her arm, suddenly burying her face into his chest as they passed dozens of people in the waiting room. She yelped into his ribs but he squeezed her shoulder, trying to silence her protests. Once safely out the sliding doors and onto the street, he released her and she gasped for breath.
"Well," She breathed, "You smell good." Looking around as they hurried down the dark damp street, she was disoriented by the night. Last she's known she was just heading into work.
"Hey. Do you think I'm fired?" Anna asked, thankful for her comfortable dark sneaker-shoes as she scampered behind the jogging Matthew.
"I wouldn't worry about it."
She quirked an eyebrow. It wasn't like him to be unconcerned with her job. Usually the programmer was like a guardian angle, or hawk, either one. He was always helping her out and watching out for her. He was all that had stood between despair and life when her father died.
"Hey, we need to start talking," the programmer suggested, taking her arm as they walked.
"Ok," Anna said, allowing her arm to be snared. The night air was chilly, and he was warm, his soft leather jacket warm against her hand.
"I know you're friends with Michael. Actually, Michael and I are close colleges."
She gave him a funny look. "Um... I know that. I work with you, remember?"
He smiled, his eyes warm. "Moreso than you realize." The sparkle left his eyes and his face grew grim in the faint light. "I. I fear we may never see him again."
"What?!" Anna cried, stopping short and spinning around.
"Sshhhh, I know, I know," Matt soothed, his own expression deadly serious. "And I am in grave danger as well. I need to get out of here, and. I want you to come too."
"What the hell are you talking about!? And why the fuck are you so damn blasé about our friend being /dead/!? And how did he die? What the hell is going on here, Matthew?" Anne gushed, face flushed in a mixture of unpleasant emotions.
They stopped their stumbling run and the taller man pulled her aside, into a darkened ally. Steam rose from manholes around them, chilling in the night air and pocketing them in a bubble that didn't seem to be a part of reality.
"Anna. there is so much I want to tell you. I wish. I wish we could have figured out how to contact you before now, tell you all of this."
"I've been right here, Matt, right next to you every day-"
"No," he breathed, "That's not what I meant. Something's going on with you. something very odd. We've never seen anything like it within the matrix-"
"The what?"
Matt shook his head. "There's no time to explain right now. I just. I need to get out. They'll find me soon. I want you to come with me Anna. please. I've been waiting for a time to tell you how much I like you, your smile, you eyes, everything. I care a lot about you and I know. you have nothing here. Please. I want you to meet some friends of mine before it's too late."
Anna looked up into his eyes, thoroughly shocked. At everything. Before she could say a word, she cried out, knees buckling. Matt stared in horror as she folded in on herself, her knees coming to the pavement.
"Anna!" he asked in alarm.
"I- I don't know!" She choked. God, what was happening? Did the world decide to just go insane or something? She wondered, heat flooding through her body in an unhealthy fashion.
Matt's mind reeled, trying to figure out her illness.
Unfortunate for Matt, his time had just fun out. Instinct forced his head up, and he watched in abject horror as three dark suited men walked through the steam, their steps silent and slow.
The Agents had him.
Cursing, he knew it was futile to run, he would run anyway. A split second before he stood to flee, his soft grey eyes caught Anna's and he sent a silent apology. He stood to run. His feet leapt out before him, stretching out over the wet ground.
He never made it more than five feet away from her before the bullets exploded and his blood sprayed the ground, his body falling lifeless to the wet pavement. He lay there, bleeding and quivering, praying in his final moments that Anna might be able to escape.
He looked in her general direction, his eyesight failing.
Run, Anna. Now.
The two agents, tall and short, made their way in a leisurely pace to his side. The last one, the one from. the office made his way last and smirked.
"Michael was quite useful under the serum. Though we still need questions answered, he assured us you would be useless in this area." His glasses fogged in the steam. "Therefore, you are useless to us."
Anna stood only to watch a final bullet end the life of her friend. She did not scream. Her mind would not allow it. Emotions like this did not pop through the toughened outer layer of her self. But she did react.
The pain in her mind was blinding.
The pain in her heart was searing.
Therefore, she was not thinking clearly and nothing mattered than the immediate dealing with these emotions.
She ran right at the agent from the office.
(three months later)
Friggin' A.
A moan emerged from beneath a heap of tousled stripped sheets, a hand flailing out blindly towards the right of a precariously piled stash of aspirin bottles. Muddled fingers found their mark and ended the shrieking of an elderly alarm clock that looked out over the bed. Anna groaned, not even bothering to open her eyes.
Really. This whole plan to become an alcoholic really sucked. Mostly because of a little thing called hangovers.
Sheets flew, and a disgruntled bleached blond forged a path towards the bathroom. Not bothering to glance in the cracked mirror, she stripped and stumbled into the shower. A small compact body slid down the wall of the stall, coming to rest at the end of a warm spray of water. Risking more pain, she blearily opened her eyes. She hadn't turned on the overhead upon entering the small bathroom, so the only source of light trickled in from the street lamp below her bedroom window. The room was very dark, and felt hollow. She closed her eyes.
She stayed prone until her mind prodded her to take action. She washed her short thick hair briefly, taking no pleasure in the action. Rinsed and relatively clean, she exited and dried herself.
It was 6:35am. And life looked just as it did seven hours ago before she passed out. Come to think of it, life had looked the same for quite a while now.
"Stop it," she hissed, tossing on dark slacks and a worn scarlet dress shirt. She would prefer to keep her mind pleasantly blank, and she tried to do so as she headed out the door. She stepped out onto a dank and damp rail stairway. Glancing down at the street below, a few cars traveled the lonely path of the darkened alleyway that served as a driveway to her home. Well... more an attic than a home, but hell, home was where the heart was.
She snickered, her feet making little noise as she made her way down the metal stairway to the ground some forty feet below. She stopped suddenly, hand gripped the steal banister firmly.
Flashing of color and /pain/ -
Anna blinked rapidly, gritting her teeth. This was not the hangover. This was probably some dammed /brain tumor/ or something, cause these headaches, fast, fiery and agonizing, were happening all the more frequently. But for fuck's sake, having bloody visions of dancing fairies while walking out to her car?
Christ. Time to see a doctor. Why the hell not. She had the money. Shaking her head, she quickly made her way downstairs to the street and clambered into her old ford.
Its bad when one does not remember car rides. Per say, its quite bad when one second you're in your car, starting the engine and the next second, you're parked outside your workplace. Probably not a good thing. One day, she was going to kill someone blanking out like that. It wasn't anything abnormal. She just. faded out when she drove.
Shrugging on a dress coat, she stepped out into the world. The sun had yet to show, mostly hidden from the towering buildings and still cloud-covered sky. Her building wasn't one of the largest, a simple software firm that stayed in it's place by supplying anti-virus protection programs and some simple application things. She did her job. She got paid. End of story there.
The elevator was actually quite fast in seeing to her needs this morning, and she stepped on in relative quiet.
The ride was uneventful. Glancing down, she gripped her briefcase tightly. Fortunately, prior to the point of no return, when things went numb, she'd saved her charts and progress report to a disk that rested snugly in her case. Well, that was encouraging. It was nice to keep her job. Actually the work was. bland. A dull cubicle among a hundred just like it. In a world with a million people, all a like.
She needed to get out more or something. This world was so damn depressing.
The elevator door gave a pacified beep, and she stepped into the wonderful world of office work. She straightened her shirt and made her way to her cubical. It was quiet today. more so than usual. Quirking an eyebrow, Anne glanced around, and noted how everyone remained intensely focused in their work, staring holes in their pcs.
Strange.
Her cubical was stark, like all the others. A small Polaroid of her father was scotch taped to her file cabinets and an empty coffee mug rested beside her monitor. She sat heavily, turned on her pc and tried to looked behind her without really looking. There was nothing. No talking, no motion. It was damn creepy.
Risking unspoken death, she stood while her computer began to boot up. Frowning, she stepped next door, slithering into her friend and college's cubical.
"Hey, Matt. What's going on?" She asked in a hushed voice, hunching low in the tiny square office, though she was short enough to where she really didn't need to.
Matt was a vet in the company, a twenty-seven year old computer programmer and a ULCA grad. More importantly, he was a close friend with a soft sense of human, and honestly, damn good looks. He looked away from his screen, his dark gray eyes softening at her approach.
"Hey there, almost birthday girl," he said quietly, his low voice barely a rumble.
Anna smiled sheepishly, not expecting him to remember.
"Well, It's still a day or two away, but hey. What's going on?" She asked, her green eyes flashing upwards briefly as she rubbed her shoulders.
"Ah." Matt replied, waving a hand outwards. "A bunch of Feds' showed up earlier today. They're talking to the boss in his office. It's kinda. no, /they're/ kinda creepy," he explained, sipping a diet coke and stabbing a single finger at his keyboard. "We dunno what's going on. Whatever it is, it must be big to bring the suit guys in." He chuckled, weeding through his email. "Go back to your pc, let me send you this article on this joke, it's funny." Matt grinned, scratching at his perfectly tripped dark sideburns.
Anne rolled her eyes, but for some reason the movement sparked a headache. She winced, getting back into her chair and entering her passwords to gain access to the network. She closed her eyes, a sudden pang of her headache throbbing painfully before receding again into the recess of her consciousness. She reached for a bottle of aspirin that lay in her desk drawn. She dry swallowed them just as the boss's office door opened.
Many pairs of eyes peered from behind cubical walls and copy machine rooms. Anna opened her eyes and glanced behind her, listening and watching.
Oh, shit. It was Michael.
Michael was another good friend, a writer, a journalist for the firm. Another handsome young man that had graced her with is quiet friendship, she winced in sadness when he was escorted out of the room by two suited men.
Aww, hell. What did he do? He looked like hell, disheveled and his glasses quirked on his slender nose. Anna adverted her gaze as the troop marched passed her, and turned when she thought they were past only to find more coming. A fed, a tall one with dark hair turned as he passed, catching her gaze. Light passed through his glasses as he seemed to move in slow motion. She sat, frozen, as his ice blue eyes held her own. Through her headache, she thought, she could swear -
She jammed her eyes shut, trying to either forget or remember, she didn't know which. Her body leaned forward and her fingers touched her head.
She grunted softly, opening her eyes to find the man standing in her office. Some part of her brain reacted and she stiffened, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. The man was far taller than even her cubicle wall, his stare unnerving and his poster radiating hostility. God, where had she seen him before? Surely she would have remembered.
His lips twitched upwards into what appeared to be a sneer from her sitting position. Her back pressed against her chair as she tried to recoil.
"Have we. met?" He asked in a slow almost inhuman monotone. From her vantage point, she could see his eyes, the irises boring into her head.
She would have tried to answer, in whatever meek voice she could manage, but a blinding white flash of pain flashed before her eyes. A choked squeak escaped her throat.
Matt heard the soft noise, his ear pressed up against the wall. He stood quickly, and after a hesitant breath, shoved the fed aside. His eyes widened at Anna's pained expression, her hand clutching her head.
"Anna!" He hissed, his hands coming up to her shoulders and squeezing. She gasped, eyes flying open. Confused crossed her face, her eyes moving from the blurry man behind a crouching Matt.
"What is it, Anna? What's wrong?" He asked, fingers pressing into her red shirt. Behind him, the fed remained expressionless, but apparently interested in the ordeal. Matt swallowed, trying to keep his poster lax and normal.
He had to get out of there. And get her out of there now. This was about as dangerous a situation as there could be.
Without another word, he scooped her up and tried to calm his racing heart, catching the Agent right in the eyes with his own as he walked past, into the hall. The Agent's gaze pierced Matt's back as they departed. Frowning, Smith followed after his subordinates, and downstairs. The tall Agent exited the elevator just in time to see the virus "Matthew Williams" gently tuck the girl into a car and drive off, but not before glaring as the man cast Smith one last look.
Jones was waiting for him by the sedan, with Michael N. Kinh secured in the back seat.
"Brown is waiting for us, and is setting up for interrogation," Jones informed Smith, both standing beside the car, while Michael glanced up at them from the seat. He swallowed and prayed he would have a quick death. Perhaps Smith picked up on his expression, for the man looked down against the reflection and sneered at the resistant.
The Agents departed with their hostage.
5:42pm Wood County Hospital
Anna groaned.
Wincing, she opened her eyes to a bright light. And noise.
"Anna?" A soft, low voice asked. She blinked, turning her head to one side. Oh. She was lying down. When the hell had that happened?
"Matt? What's going on?" She asked, leaning forward. She glanced down, thankful to be in her own clothing. She gathered that she was in a doctor's office or something of that nature. Question was, how did she get there? Lord. She was having really messed up memory problems lately.
"Thank god. I was so worried. You've been out for hours, though we don't know why. Doctors did lots of tests, blood tests, physical tests. the results aren't back yet," Matt explained, his eyes glancing warily about the single room. "Look. I have got to get you out of here. Now. There are things. we need to talk about and I think we're running out of time."
She frowned, noting the intensity in her friend's voice. "Alright," She said slowly, leaning forwards. "I'm assuming you're going to tell me what happened as soon as we leave, right?" She asked, shakily swinging her legs over the bedside.
"I promise. But so much. just shit. is going on right now. And it's just not safe here. We need to go, now," the twitchy programmer insisted, grasping her arms and helping the disheveled girl to her feet. Her feet hit the floor ungracefully and she squinted.
"What's wrong with you, Anna?" Matt murmured as he helped her to her feet.
"Real honestly? I have not a clue. I just. thought they were headaches," Anna insisted, following behind the taller man as they escaped the hospital room. The pair tried to look inconspicuous as they stealthily sneaked past the nurses desk.
"Well we don't have time to figure it out now," he said lowly, stepping forward.
"Why are we being so discreet again?" She whispered to his back, glancing around and then finding her reflection in a mirror on the wall. Oh wow. Her hair was sticking up in like ninety directions. That's attractive. She made a disgusted face as they jogged past.
"You'll see," Matt murmured as he took her arm, suddenly burying her face into his chest as they passed dozens of people in the waiting room. She yelped into his ribs but he squeezed her shoulder, trying to silence her protests. Once safely out the sliding doors and onto the street, he released her and she gasped for breath.
"Well," She breathed, "You smell good." Looking around as they hurried down the dark damp street, she was disoriented by the night. Last she's known she was just heading into work.
"Hey. Do you think I'm fired?" Anna asked, thankful for her comfortable dark sneaker-shoes as she scampered behind the jogging Matthew.
"I wouldn't worry about it."
She quirked an eyebrow. It wasn't like him to be unconcerned with her job. Usually the programmer was like a guardian angle, or hawk, either one. He was always helping her out and watching out for her. He was all that had stood between despair and life when her father died.
"Hey, we need to start talking," the programmer suggested, taking her arm as they walked.
"Ok," Anna said, allowing her arm to be snared. The night air was chilly, and he was warm, his soft leather jacket warm against her hand.
"I know you're friends with Michael. Actually, Michael and I are close colleges."
She gave him a funny look. "Um... I know that. I work with you, remember?"
He smiled, his eyes warm. "Moreso than you realize." The sparkle left his eyes and his face grew grim in the faint light. "I. I fear we may never see him again."
"What?!" Anna cried, stopping short and spinning around.
"Sshhhh, I know, I know," Matt soothed, his own expression deadly serious. "And I am in grave danger as well. I need to get out of here, and. I want you to come too."
"What the hell are you talking about!? And why the fuck are you so damn blasé about our friend being /dead/!? And how did he die? What the hell is going on here, Matthew?" Anne gushed, face flushed in a mixture of unpleasant emotions.
They stopped their stumbling run and the taller man pulled her aside, into a darkened ally. Steam rose from manholes around them, chilling in the night air and pocketing them in a bubble that didn't seem to be a part of reality.
"Anna. there is so much I want to tell you. I wish. I wish we could have figured out how to contact you before now, tell you all of this."
"I've been right here, Matt, right next to you every day-"
"No," he breathed, "That's not what I meant. Something's going on with you. something very odd. We've never seen anything like it within the matrix-"
"The what?"
Matt shook his head. "There's no time to explain right now. I just. I need to get out. They'll find me soon. I want you to come with me Anna. please. I've been waiting for a time to tell you how much I like you, your smile, you eyes, everything. I care a lot about you and I know. you have nothing here. Please. I want you to meet some friends of mine before it's too late."
Anna looked up into his eyes, thoroughly shocked. At everything. Before she could say a word, she cried out, knees buckling. Matt stared in horror as she folded in on herself, her knees coming to the pavement.
"Anna!" he asked in alarm.
"I- I don't know!" She choked. God, what was happening? Did the world decide to just go insane or something? She wondered, heat flooding through her body in an unhealthy fashion.
Matt's mind reeled, trying to figure out her illness.
Unfortunate for Matt, his time had just fun out. Instinct forced his head up, and he watched in abject horror as three dark suited men walked through the steam, their steps silent and slow.
The Agents had him.
Cursing, he knew it was futile to run, he would run anyway. A split second before he stood to flee, his soft grey eyes caught Anna's and he sent a silent apology. He stood to run. His feet leapt out before him, stretching out over the wet ground.
He never made it more than five feet away from her before the bullets exploded and his blood sprayed the ground, his body falling lifeless to the wet pavement. He lay there, bleeding and quivering, praying in his final moments that Anna might be able to escape.
He looked in her general direction, his eyesight failing.
Run, Anna. Now.
The two agents, tall and short, made their way in a leisurely pace to his side. The last one, the one from. the office made his way last and smirked.
"Michael was quite useful under the serum. Though we still need questions answered, he assured us you would be useless in this area." His glasses fogged in the steam. "Therefore, you are useless to us."
Anna stood only to watch a final bullet end the life of her friend. She did not scream. Her mind would not allow it. Emotions like this did not pop through the toughened outer layer of her self. But she did react.
The pain in her mind was blinding.
The pain in her heart was searing.
Therefore, she was not thinking clearly and nothing mattered than the immediate dealing with these emotions.
She ran right at the agent from the office.