Protector of Men Ch 7
There was a loud rapping on the door. What was that? Zandra awoke in a confusion, maybe this was a dream…
"Zandra," Trim called from behind the thick iron door, "It's time to start training."
Training. She got up slowly, and opened the door to see Trim smiling cheerfully. How could he be so cheerful at this hour?
"Can I eat?" The words came out a little slowly.
"Ah, I wouldn't suggest it," he replied factually, "we don't want a mess in the chair if you get sick."
"Oh." Great, thought Zandra, I can already tell how this is going to go...
"Um," he continued, "We're all set up."
Zandra followed him into the control room, where Cover and Kesia were waiting. Kesia motioned for her to sit, and began to strap her into the chair. Zandra was a little apprehensive, but told herself to be prepared.
"I know that it's very early," Cover stated, "But it is necessary. It will start out fairly easy."
"Easy?" she asked hopefully.
"You will not feel accurately. This program can only inflict a certain amount of pain on you." He paused, then added, "It is for your safety. These agents can kill in one hit."
Zandra tried to look nonplussed, but was silently a little shocked. She had only heard a little about the agents, snippets from the crew.
"Do you think you are ready?" Cover asked, walking over to the wall of computers.
You are, you are ready!
"Yes," she replied. Kesia inserted the needle, and suddenly she was in town again.
It looked like another take on the jump program - Zandra noticed the similar buildings, similar sidewalks and streets. People milled about aimlessly, some going into buildings, some driving cars, some hailing cabs, it was just like home. No, she reminded herself again, not like home. Home was a metal ship inside the earth. Home was cold. Home was bare.
She looked around expectantly. Where was the agent? All she could see was people going about their 'business', doing nothing in particular. She began to walk towards a nearby alley, checking behind her every few seconds.
There he was - the agent suddenly burst out of a crowd of people. He looked just like she had imagined, tall, dark haired, with a crisp suit. He didn't look like a program, he looked like a pissed-off CEO. He wore a look of hatred as he stomped over to where she stood. Time was already running short.
It was time to move, time to fight or run. Now that the moment had arrived, Zandra wasn't sure of what to do. She stood motionless, racking her brain trying to remember. What did they tell me, what do I do, she questioned, while looking almost frantically around her. There was nowhere to run, barely even a way to run out of where she was. Nice move, she thought to herself - now that she had walked into the alley, she had basically just trapped herself. The agent stomped closer.
I've got to get away from here, she told herself. She would have to move quickly. Sure enough, soon after she started her retreat, the agent began the chase. Damn, he's fast. She sprinted to the right, and he followed easily. Run faster, she thought to herself, faster! She swerved to the right, hoping that he would be caught by surprise and sprinted harder.
Something caught her foot, and Zandra was instantly sprawled on the ground. Her bony body rippled with pain. Had he gotten her already?
She felt something brush against her leg and her heart froze. How would she get away now? She knew it was him – she could see his tall shadow on the ground in front of her. He grabbed her long blonde hair and pulled her on her feet. I thought this wasn't going to hurt, she thought painfully as she got up. But before she could even think about fleeing, he attacked.
He immediately hit Zandra, one punch knocking her clear across the street and into the brick of a building. She grimaced in pain, bricks crumpling, falling behind and on top of her. She was sure that her back had broken, but it hadn't - at least not yet. The agent began to cross the street. I've got to get up, she told herself as she groaned to her feet. He was getting closer.
She was up; if she was going to get away, she had to do it now. Without another glance at the approaching agent, she broke into a sprint in the opposite direction knowing full well he would follow her. The question was, what exacty would he do? She began to cross a street, with the agent close behind. Maybe he wouldn't follow her if traffic-
A car horn blared. Zandra hadn't seen it coming, but it threatened to hit her if she didn't get out of the way. Move! She immediately went into action and vaulted herself into a leap across the danger. The car passed behind, its tires screeching loudly. She tumbled to the ground again but resumed her sprint almost instantly. Maybe he got hit, she thought hopefully, glancing backwards while resuming her flight. He hadn't. But what she did notice made her breath stop short. It was only a convertible, but there was blood on the windshield. No one moved inside. And the agent was still coming after her. Surely he couldn't kill in the program, right? She pushed herself to run faster - no matter what, she was not going to be caught. Images of blood ran through her mind, seeped through every pore and only incited her to move faster.
But she couldn't just keep running from him. What would she do? It seemed impossible for her to kill him - he was just too fast, too good. This was only a program though – and Zandra's logic wouldn't let her lose. Maybe she could fight it, if she just anticipated enough. Technically, they were on even ground in the programming world.
Back in Purgatory, Cover watched Zandra's headway intently. She was progressing very well - meaning that she was still moving. Yet, even defeating the program would never be enough. Agents in the real matrix would have killed her in seconds. He was documenting her every move, seeing her resolve harden when she saw the 'killed' people. But why had she just stopped running? His eyes narrowed as the situation changed.
Zandra watched in horror as the elderly man only ten feet in front of her morphed into an agent.
