A woman never runs away/a woman never hides away/in order to survive - Real Me, Ayumi Hamasaki
Mischa grimaced as she put the phone down and stood staring at it for a couple more minutes. The girls she had been tracking for some time now were a very interesting case. Twins never usually were unplugged. If one was even slightly interested in what the Matrix really was, the other was grounded enough to keep them both there. And there was something about twins that kept them in the Matrix.
And the connection that she had felt with Vrai...
Mischa turned her brown eyes to the door as it opened. Ganther, a tall dark Italien man strode into the room, followed by Cupid, a tiny French girl. Gunther smiled at Mischa's stony expression and gave her a quick hug.
"Hey, bella, relax. We'll pick up the twins, get them into a trace program and get them in the Real World before the Agents will even know what's going on."
Mischa knew Gunther was trying his hardest to cheer her up, but try as she might, all the could give him was a tiny half-smile.
"I'm sorry, Gun. I just have a bad feeling about this."
***
"We've got to go."
Cyn is staring at me in disbelief. "You can't expect me to just go off galavanting with you?"
I sigh and walk to my closet, where I grab a white coat and throw it over my shoulders. I'm putting on my Vans, when Cyn comes up behind me and holds the balls of my shoulders, staring deep into my eyes.
"This has to do with those agents last night, doesn't it?" She asks. I nod, "Damnit, I iknew/i there was something weird that was gonna happen."
I nod again, and when I walk out the door, Cyn follows me. She looks uncomfortable. "Do I need to get anything?"
I look at her, and we both know what the answer is. It's no. We won't be coming back here. Not the same, anyway.
It takes us twenty minutes to get to the L.A. river from where we live usually, and we get there in record time, sparing about eight minutes. We're sitting on the bank on the trickle that is supposed to be a river when a black car pulls up and Cyn grabs my hand, the grip strong and tight. I squeeze back in reassurance.
The girl from last night opens the door. We're already on our feet and I get into the car first. Sitting shotgun is a large Italien guy, and there's a tiny woman driving. I'm snapped out of my reverie by the slam of the door. Cyn smiles in my direction apologetically.
"Do you know why you're here?" The Asian woman asks us. Cyn answers before I can, "Those weird agents," Cyn and I both touch our necks involuntarily, "They wanted something from us, but we can't remember what."
The man says something in Italien that I'm guessing is a curse, because the Asian woman swears as well.
"They've given you mem. erasures."
Almost on cue, the tiny woman that is driving steps on the gas and we speed up to 55 m.p.h.
***
"They're on the move," two men stand in Dana's apartment.
One man turns to the other. Both are generic- white, middle-aged, suits, sunglasses, bad haircuts.
"Find them."
***
We get to a small house in the valley. It's brightly coloured, small and the yard is filled with jacaranda and magnolia. Inside, the house is warm and inviting, filled with old photographs, weathered furnitature and a white cat that slides between my legs and purrs.
"We have to move fast, so we'll go through this fast," the Asian woman puts out her hand. Resting on the left palm are two red pills. One the right are to blue pills, "The red will take you away from the world where you're uncomfortable, and spin you down a rabbit hole. The blue will keep you here. You will never see us again."
I reach for the red pills, my hand drawn the them magnetically. Cyn hesitates, and then follows.
We swallow the pills dry, as the Asian woman sits us down and puts some medical crap on us.
"We've got a lock," the Italien man says. He's sitting with some computer equipment, and the little woman is looking over some other equipment. I have an urge to go over to them and look at what they're doing, but my body is stiff. I start shaking, cold sweat breaking across my forhead, beading and dripping past my eyes. At them same time, my head and Cyn's are thrown back, and we scream, our voices echoing together, as if we are one.
Mischa grimaced as she put the phone down and stood staring at it for a couple more minutes. The girls she had been tracking for some time now were a very interesting case. Twins never usually were unplugged. If one was even slightly interested in what the Matrix really was, the other was grounded enough to keep them both there. And there was something about twins that kept them in the Matrix.
And the connection that she had felt with Vrai...
Mischa turned her brown eyes to the door as it opened. Ganther, a tall dark Italien man strode into the room, followed by Cupid, a tiny French girl. Gunther smiled at Mischa's stony expression and gave her a quick hug.
"Hey, bella, relax. We'll pick up the twins, get them into a trace program and get them in the Real World before the Agents will even know what's going on."
Mischa knew Gunther was trying his hardest to cheer her up, but try as she might, all the could give him was a tiny half-smile.
"I'm sorry, Gun. I just have a bad feeling about this."
***
"We've got to go."
Cyn is staring at me in disbelief. "You can't expect me to just go off galavanting with you?"
I sigh and walk to my closet, where I grab a white coat and throw it over my shoulders. I'm putting on my Vans, when Cyn comes up behind me and holds the balls of my shoulders, staring deep into my eyes.
"This has to do with those agents last night, doesn't it?" She asks. I nod, "Damnit, I iknew/i there was something weird that was gonna happen."
I nod again, and when I walk out the door, Cyn follows me. She looks uncomfortable. "Do I need to get anything?"
I look at her, and we both know what the answer is. It's no. We won't be coming back here. Not the same, anyway.
It takes us twenty minutes to get to the L.A. river from where we live usually, and we get there in record time, sparing about eight minutes. We're sitting on the bank on the trickle that is supposed to be a river when a black car pulls up and Cyn grabs my hand, the grip strong and tight. I squeeze back in reassurance.
The girl from last night opens the door. We're already on our feet and I get into the car first. Sitting shotgun is a large Italien guy, and there's a tiny woman driving. I'm snapped out of my reverie by the slam of the door. Cyn smiles in my direction apologetically.
"Do you know why you're here?" The Asian woman asks us. Cyn answers before I can, "Those weird agents," Cyn and I both touch our necks involuntarily, "They wanted something from us, but we can't remember what."
The man says something in Italien that I'm guessing is a curse, because the Asian woman swears as well.
"They've given you mem. erasures."
Almost on cue, the tiny woman that is driving steps on the gas and we speed up to 55 m.p.h.
***
"They're on the move," two men stand in Dana's apartment.
One man turns to the other. Both are generic- white, middle-aged, suits, sunglasses, bad haircuts.
"Find them."
***
We get to a small house in the valley. It's brightly coloured, small and the yard is filled with jacaranda and magnolia. Inside, the house is warm and inviting, filled with old photographs, weathered furnitature and a white cat that slides between my legs and purrs.
"We have to move fast, so we'll go through this fast," the Asian woman puts out her hand. Resting on the left palm are two red pills. One the right are to blue pills, "The red will take you away from the world where you're uncomfortable, and spin you down a rabbit hole. The blue will keep you here. You will never see us again."
I reach for the red pills, my hand drawn the them magnetically. Cyn hesitates, and then follows.
We swallow the pills dry, as the Asian woman sits us down and puts some medical crap on us.
"We've got a lock," the Italien man says. He's sitting with some computer equipment, and the little woman is looking over some other equipment. I have an urge to go over to them and look at what they're doing, but my body is stiff. I start shaking, cold sweat breaking across my forhead, beading and dripping past my eyes. At them same time, my head and Cyn's are thrown back, and we scream, our voices echoing together, as if we are one.