Tempest of Emotions

Chapter 15: Escape

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'One chain broke, three to go.'  There were small sounds of struggling and scrapping against metal that were muffled by the efforts of the escapee. She only hoped no one noticed her efforts. 'Three more till freedom. Three more.'

She concentrated hard on her chains and tried to push all thoughts of those lying dead and cold away from her mind. This was no time to be distracted. Freedom first, then revenge, then she would mourn for those that fell.

Somehow, the tears would not stop falling. The pain was too strong for her to suppress anymore. She could have saved them from their untimely demises and she failed each one. No, this is not the time to think of them. When she was free and killing the one who hurt them; that would be the time to unleash her anger and sorrow. There was a time for everything. Just three more to go.

She froze immediately when she heard faint footfalls in the hallway. Had they already discovered her? Curse those cameras! She lay still as she silently hoped that they were not coming for her. She swallowed hard as she heard the steps stop heavily before her door. Time seemed to slow down as she heard a distinct noise of metallic keys. Her breathing slowed to a shallow pant. Was it her turn to join the dead? Her beaten body could not take the torture much longer. Her eyes hardened within a moment; her mind had decided and her decision was clear: I am going to go down fighting.

With that thought, she wrenched her arms forcefully and noisily snapped the other chain on her left arm with what remaining strength she had. Ignoring the sharp pains on her freed hands, she quickly turned her attention to her feet. Two more to go.

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"Hmmm, there is something unusual with this specimen." Bromley spoke more to herself than to the other lab assistants in the room. She peered curiously at the blood sample in the microscope. There was something odd about the blood.

"Are you sure you didn't contaminate this?" Bromley turned and gave a stern look as the female assistant who squirmed, slightly uncomfortable with the doctor looking at her.

"Yeah, I-I'm sure." She answered with slight hesitation. Bromley raised her right eyebrow ever so slightly. It was good that the lab tech feared her; it showed her authority and her status over the two. She returned to gaze at the samples, her forehead wrinkling faintly.

"Might I inquire what is so unusual about the samples?" The male technician spoke up. Bromley sighed with impatience and turned away from the samples, yet again. She needed some quiet time to analyze the DNA and blood samples. Still, there was something about them that made her uneasy. She had never seen anything like that, not even in familiars.

"I don't know. There is just something strange about the blood and I haven't even processed them yet. Maybe that will reveal something useful." A hint of doubt and possibly something akin to fear crept into her eyes. Inside she thought, 'What have you done, Sandeman? What have you created?' She turned back to microscope.

"Oh, what should we do with the bodies?" The female asked. After she got no answer, she added timidly, "Of the trangenics?"

Doctor Bromley didn't bother to look at her, "Dissect them if you have the time and make sure to take a sample. Dead tissue could still be useful. And place their bodies back where you found them. The guy down at the morgue gets really cranky if the bodies are messed up. Bill's a bit of a perfectionist." She added with a hint of mirth in her voice. She added, "Now, if you two will leave me, I will conduct some tests. I'll inform you if I need assistance. That will be all." Her voice had reverted to its rigid resonance once more.

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Max clawed wildly at her remaining chain on her left foot. Her raw and bruised wrists flew and strained against the stubborn bind. The key was being fitted into the lock. Her eyes glanced hastily at the door and resumed pulling the chain. Just a little bit more…give me a few more seconds…

There was no more time, Max thought as she heard the door creak open. She rose hastily to her feet and faced the door. She would fight hard before anyone got a chance to kill her. She slightly crouched into a defensive position with her hands free and ready to inflict damage on whoever was entering the room. Too bad her left foot remained fettered and restricted her movement, still she was lethal enough.

"Max," a soft familiar voice whispered into the small crack of the door, "Max, it's me, Zack. Don't attack."

"Zack," she breathed. Her eyes were confused for a moment but hardened instantly. Perhaps he was sent here to kill her as additional amusement for someone. She watched his emerging figure warily as he silently entered and shut the door with a quick glance into the hallway.

He looked at her disheveled image and inched closer with his hands held before him to show he meant no harm to her. "Max, it's me. We have to get out of here, now. Trust me, Maxie."

"Why should I trust you? You killed them both and you probably would have killed me too." Anger and rage mixed in her voice, her hands still held defensively at her sides. How dare White try to trick me once more with her brother? I will fight this time, brother or not.

"Fine, don't trust me. I'm not even sure if I can trust myself now, but we have to get you out of here." He held out his hand to her and when she didn't move, he pleaded, "Come on Maxie, trust me."

She looked at him and gestured at her foot, "Help me with this."

Within moments, the duo stealthily crept along the silent hallways. With Zack leading, Max guarded the rear, frequently glancing behind. Still her mind wandered from the important subject of escaping. Although her mind and eyes processed the information gathered in the dim hallway, she still thought of him. Max gasped when she thought she heard his voice. Alec?

"Watch it, Max," Zack commanded harshly when he felt Max bump into him. Honestly, what was she thinking about at a critical time like this? We'll be caught for sure if she doesn't snap out of, he thought irritatingly at her apparently carelessness.

"Sorry," she whispered back. 'I keep thinking about Alec. Why? I guess I have too many memories of being on missions with him. Stop thinking of him, Max. You've got more pressing matters to think about, like getting out and kicking White from here to the North Pole and back again…' She started to smirk on that last thought. She could almost imagine a certain hapless agent in pounds of shiny bright metallic chains being thrown mercilessly through the air. She was so busy plotting her strangely silly revenge that she was surprised she did not notice it at first. The hallways were eerily quiet without the slightest sound except the whispering of the wind. Where were the stomping boots of the guards?

Max scooted closer to Zack who was hunched over and peering cautiously around the next corner. "Zack? Something's wrong." She tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Even in the dim light, she could tell he was thinking the same thing. He nodded and turned back to the corner. He quickly signaled her to retreat with his hands to the last passageway they came through. They found a janitor's closet and slipped in.

Even in the darkness, she could still hear her uneven breathing and feel her palms slick with perspiration. A growing hint of fear rested in the pit of her stomach. Did she knowingly blunder into a diabolical trap set by her own brother? She watched him as he took short glimpses out the door, left slightly ajar. There was no way to be sure of his true allegiance.

As if he read her thoughts, Zack laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "No, this is not a trap. I though I heard something back there." After a few moments of tense silence, he added "So, which way do we go now?"

"I have no idea where we are." She admitted. "We have to rely on your knowledge."

"Okay, I think there's a fire escape a few corridors down, but let's wait here a while before we move out, just to be sure." He accepted her fragile trust and sat down on the floor, still eyeing the door.

Max sifted uncomfortably against the cool wall and waited in the awkward silence. She could not help but stare at her brother, he seemed barely changed on the outside, but inside, she could only wonder. "So, how did you get out anyways?"

"I don't really know," came his clipped answer. After a moment's consideration he continued, "I don't remember much of what happened except that I was ambushed and that they must have drugged me and messed with my mind because nothing after that makes sense. None of my memories of these past months make sense." He shook his head as if to make the jumble of distorted memories fall into the right places and suddenly be able to understand what exactly happened to him. "When I came to, my door was unlocked and there were two piles of clothes on the floor with a piece of paper. There was something scribbled on it."

Seeing him reluctant to continue, Max laid a hand gently on his shoulder. He looked into her face and unable to hold her gaze, he lowered his eyes to stare at the grey floor. "It was your number Max. It was your name."

"It must have been someone who was part of Manticore but the thing I don't get is how did you wake up?" She answered quickly. Her number? Why would anyone write that down? Was it a message and if so, to whom was it directed? There was something more than just familiars and White's minions in this place. Something almost vital she had to find.

Zack rolled up the sleeve of his right arm. Her pupils focused momentarily until she spotted a small puncture wound created by something small and sharp, like a needle. "Whoever left the door open must have injected you with some kind of antidote." She sat back down and waited.

"Probably." He turned back to gaze out the small crack of the door. This was going to be a long wait.

Within the next hour, two figures crouching low to the ground snuck out of the facility through the most unlikely of all places, a fire escape. They had been painstakingly cautious and silent, often retracing their steps to a "safer" location. However it seemed as if there was no need for such precaution; there were no alarms and not obstacles. It was almost too easy. The place seemed deserted; either they were lucky or something else must have been occurring at the same time. Perhaps the person who left Zack's door open created a distraction. It was possible, but it made her uneasy to accept the help of an unknown stranger. Perhaps this was the exact same tactic Manticore used on Zack, but the problem was, what did the familiars want? What could they possibly gain from setting free two trangenics?

Max wanted to shout in joy when she crawled out of yet another small hideout they had been stuck in just to make sure no one followed them or suspected their escape. She breathed the free air and even bent down to reverently caress the wet ground. The sounds of thunder and the sensation of rain on her skin was probably one of the best feelings she had in the past year and she relished them greatly.

But for some reason, in the back of her mind, the notion of freedom finally dawned on her and she knew she had never been so far from true freedom. This was not freedom, maybe a poor substitute to the real thing and sure, it was as much as she could expect to get at the meantime. But real freedom did not involve a group of genetically interbreeding group of fanatics chasing you because of this strange writing that pops out on your skin because your creator decided to write it into your genome.

No, freedom was just that, being free to be anything you wanted.

Zack tugged on her arm urgently and signaled that they should move as fast as possible. Max shook her head no. There was something she needed to do first. She had to go back.

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A/N- So another chapter is done and it was long…needed to get that plot moving again…so, review plz? Thank you so much for the reviews and I'm sorry if you didn't really get the last chapter- it's been edited a bit to clarify things. Basically, poor Max's mind is going a little insane. Oh and if you can, answer this question: Which do you like better: stories in the first person or third? Does it matter?