And not only that; I've received fanart, too! Trilliah has sent me two awesome pictures of Miles since the last chapter was posted, and I tell ya folks, I can't describe the feeling of seeing a contribution like that pop up in my inbox. It is just incredible! With her permission, I've uploaded them, and you can see them by following the HomePage link in my profile.
As for this chapter, well, I'm a little nervous. It seems too fast paced to me so I'll probably come back to it at some point. But, I've gone over it so many times that I just want to get it out the way and posted. *_* I know it's a bit shorter too, but rest assured, chapter 9 will be a return to form.
Anyway, enough from me, and I hope that you enjoy chapter 8 of Spyder. Please R+R! :-)
Chapter 8: Fumbling the BallFor the fifth time in as many minutes, Thomas Bowen – Tom to his friends – walked over to the large bared window that formed an entire wall of their cell and looked out of it forlornly. They'd been here for almost a week, 'they' being Cream, Pepsi, Skip, Jeremy, and his girlfriend Carol. Before this had started he'd have never expected it, but, increasingly, the sense of fear at being captured was being replaced with that of boredom.
Nothing seemed to be happening. Nothing at all. They had just been split randomly into groups by the swatbots, hauled and dumped into these cells, then left alone for no apparent purpose. A while ago, perhaps a day (that was purely a guess as there was no real way of telling time in here), the seven of them had made a game of guessing why they were here. That hadn't lasted long, as they had all agreed that it was probably for a ransom.
They had also found, not too long ago, that there was a very small hole in both side walls, which led into the room next to them. There were more cells on either side, one of which contained Aunt Bunnie, Sonic Hedgehog, and Princess Acorn, as well as some more kids from the orphanage. They were in a similar state and, by the sound of it; Sonic was going crazy at being confined and therefore unable to run about.
The window that Tom was looking out of was in the true style of a stereotypical prison. Despite being far larger than one would have expected (as it took up most of the wall from ceiling to floor), it still had bars running vertically down to keep them from breaking out. The bars were made from a strange metal- there was a similar window in Sonic's cell, and he hadn't been able to break through. Just beyond was some kind of glass, bullet and blaster proof, it seemed. Banging on it hadn't done a thing.
But, even if they were to get past both the bars and the glass, beyond it was a long drop down to the grey metal floor. And there was no way out above them either, thanks to a similar grey ceiling. It was like the room was designed to allow the captor to observe his or her prisoners... Like a display for a collection of Mobians.
Suddenly, the door slid open with a hydraulic hiss. The noise attracted the attention of everyone in the room, and they were met with the sight of two swatbots; one entered with purposeful strides, whilst the other remained on guard in the doorway.
The first stopped and looked around the room. It's head paused as it looked at each cowering Mobian in turn, as if scanning them for some unknown purpose. When it came to Tom, it appeared to find what it was looking for.
It stepped forward and grabbed the young wolf harshly by the scruff of his neck. He yelped as it lifted him clean from the floor, struggling against it's iron grip. His classmates attacked it with feeble punches, but it paid no notice. What good could unarmed children do against such a war machine?
As the two robots took him to some unknown destination in this strange place, Tom, oddly, could only wish that he were bored again.
----------
"...incredible."
"Yes, the staff and I had a similar reaction when we saw it happen for ourselves. Simply being told about something can never compare to seeing it for yourself, I suppose."
Miles slowly opened his eyes, the voices nearby sounding faint and distant- though whether that was because they were talking quietly as not to wake him, or that he had a pounding headache, he could not tell.
His bones ached. This head hurt. And he found it a little difficult to breathe, as though something was pressing down on his chest. He felt completely out of it, as though he had been pulled back from the brink of death.
With a groan, the fox rather clumsily sat up in the bed, blinking and looking around. He was in the hospital again and he frowned, scanning his muddled up memory to try to figure out why he was here. Amy and Dr. Quack stood conversing at the foot of the bed, and it didn't take them very long to realise that he was watching them.
"Mr. Prower, you had us worried for a while," Quack said with a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes. "If only others were as lucky as you... I'm afraid I can't stay, so I'll leave you with Miss Rose. Other patients to see, you understand..."
The duck left the room talking to himself quietly, clearly under a great deal of strain. Amy watched him leave sadly, whilst Miles blinked and looked at her.
"How are you feeling?" she asked once the doctor had left, smiling and moving up to the side of his bed.
The pressure on his chest, now annoying him slightly, caused him to look down- bandages were wrapped around his torso from just below his arms to his waist.
"Like I've been shot," he said. Amy responded with a morbidly amused smile.
"You have. Three times in the chest by swatbot blasters. You should be dead."
That triggered it, and the memories hit him in full strength.
"The kids-?" he blurted, looking at her with sudden panic. She looked away, as if unable to meet his eyes.
"We couldn't find them... But there have been no bodies, so there might not be dead!" she replied, sounding as though she were trying to reassure herself just as much as she was him.
"No, they aren't dead," he said quietly. "They've been captured. Bunnie, Sonic and Sally too. I saw swatbots grab them before I blacked out." He cave her a small smile, "But at least you're okay. I didn't think you'd make it when that door collapsed."
She didn't seem to hear his comment as her shoulders sagged, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from them. She breathed out a sigh of relief.
"A, uh... A lot of people have gone missing since the attack. We've found a lot of bodies, but they don't compare to the number missing... I suppose they were all captured too." She frowned. "I wonder, why didn't they take you?"
She was right, he should be dead. And not just because he had taken three blaster bolts to the chest but because, as far as he was concerned, this was his fault.
'Well done Spyder, you served your purpose well.'
"I guess they thought I was dead," he muttered, doing his best to ignore the words of the Guyde. "Amy, how long have I been out?"
"About week or so. I escaped the palace through another passage and ran into some Freedom Fighters. We found you in the forest, and well, it was quite a sight. Destroyed machines everywhere, and you lying right in the middle of it. I thought you'd died, I was so scared... But you still had a pulse. We brought you back into Knothole and took you to Quack- he did the rest." She smiled sadly at him. "It's amazing... that you lived. But I'm glad you did."
Miles couldn't share that opinion. There had been many times where he wished he was dead- a part of him craved it even, and now it was back stronger than ever.
"Wait," he asked as a thought occurred to him, "we're in Knothole still?"
"Yes, in the hospital."
"But... the attack?"
Miles found it confusing- why would they be back in a town that had recently been attacked and, by the sounds of things, had a good chunk of its population captured or killed in the process?
"The machines," Amy said, "left suddenly. A few minutes before we found you actually, as if they had what they came for and had completed their mission."
"I suppose they were looking for Sonic and Sally... or the kids."
Slowly, he climbed out of the bed and looked around for his jacket. Not seeing it anywhere, he looked to Amy with a questioning expression.
"Uh, your coat was practically destroyed, so... we got rid of it."
Miles' expression darkened. All of his money was in that thing.
"Did you check the pockets?" he asked.
"No, we didn't see any... there was too much blood on it."
The mercenary began to massage the side of his muzzle in annoyance.
"Amy, you do understand that I'm expecting to be very well paid because of all of this, don't you?"
"Yes, I know. And you will be, I promise, we just need you for one more job."
It was cruel, he knew, to be asking about his money so soon. But to be fair, they did owe him, not only for getting Amy, Bunnie and Cream back here safely, but compensation for destroying everything he owned too. And he knew full well that he couldn't move away from here without funds of some kind.
"What is this other job?" Miles asked.
"Rotor and Antoine returned from a mission with two squads of Freedom Fighters just after the machines left. A few of the Mechanists hung around, Walkers know why, and those of us left plus the reinforcements were able to take them all out.
"The dead mechs of course aren't really much help now, but the swatbots that you destroyed are. Rotor thinks he can salvage the memory banks from one of them and find where they are coming from... And there is a good chance that wherever the 'bots are, their captives are too. We're going to lunch a rescue attempt."
A rescue, eh? Well, he was certain then and there that he was going with it. Not only would he be paid for it, but he'd be able to move on with a clear conscience afterwards. Guilt without anger led him to bouts of depression, and he was no good at fighting those off. The results of the last low point he had hit had not been pretty, neither physically nor emotionally.
Still, Amy didn't need to know about any of that.
"I'm in," he said firmly, and she smiled.
----------
In a finely furnished office many miles from Knothole, mayor David Raid leaved forward over his beautifully crafted hardwood desk. He was a man of the world, a man of experience who knew how people acted and thus how to use their individual talents to benefit the whole. This of course was not surprising- he had at one time been a leader of a southern Freedom Fighter force, appointed by Princess Sally Acorn herself. Only his own ambition had prevented him from uniting the Chestnut province under Knothole's rule, as he wanted some responsibility above that of a warrior for himself. So he had become mayor of this city, and not a moment too soon either- how many others would have been able to make the decisions he had?
Especially one important choice. At first he had been completely opposed, but as time progressed he had come round to see his opponent's point of view. And that was why the forty-two year old grey wolf was currently in a meeting with one of his more... loyal allies.
"Snivley has fumbled the ball," he said flatly to a black and red hedgehog, who stood silently in the middle of the room. "He encouraged hostilities just like he was supposed to, but in the process went a little too far. He has captured the Knothole royal family. When they break out..." he paused, "and we all know that they will... there is a good chance that they will find out too much. He has put the entire plan in jeopardy, and this is an extremely critical stage. We cannot afford mistakes like this."
Snivley had messed up badly. The small human was intelligent, more so than even Dr. Robotnik he suspected, but like his uncle he was subject to fits of anger and a severe lack of patience. Perhaps he had hoped to gain approval from their lord by capturing the great Sonic the Hedgehog, or perhaps he wanted revenge for the attack on Robotropolis years ago and the injuries he had received from it. Either way, he was putting a great deal of planning at risk, and that was unacceptable.
"Our lord has had enough of him. He is to be terminated."
The Cyborg looked at him blankly but Raid was not to be fooled by it's apparent stupidity. He knew full well that this particular Snyper was probably the most dangerous Cyborg in existence due to it being essentially a walking arsenal. Even with his own modifications, Raid doubted that he'd last more than ten seconds against it.
"Spyder, reference Prower, Miles, status?" it asked abruptly with a hollow metallic voice. One of the things that Raid was most thankful for was that he didn't have the blank mind of the Snyper, and didn't talk in such a computerised manner. Briefly he had thought that he was lucky, but it dawned upon him shortly after that his lord probably intended it this way. How would he have remained in power otherwise?
"Probably dead. Snivley is just like you, he always thought that it ought to be destroyed. If you see it however, it is not to be harmed, understand?"
"Affirmative."
He'd never understood his lord's obsession with that particular Cyborg and the constant reminders that it was to remain unharmed. Miles Prower was a threat to them, so why not just eliminate him when the opportunity was there? But still, orders dictated that he was to be kept alive and the lord knew what he was doing, he hoped.
"You are to go to Snivley's bunker immediately and kill him before he ruins everything. We still have that hover car those Knothole Freedom Fighters brought here, use that for speed and so that you don't stand out to anyone when you pass the Great Forest. If you find that he has robotisized any of the captives, then they are to be destroyed- however; any he has begun to turn any into Cyborgs are to be left intact. He won't have had time to get far into the process because it takes to long to set up, and having mechs appear in the Freedom Fighter ranks will only serve to help us. Upon completion of your mission, you are to return here. Understood?"
"It shall be done," the hedgehog said, disappearing out the door and into the shadows in the hallway a moment later. He knew that a machine that looked so much like a mech must not be seen within the New Quarter of Chestnut else things might get out of control- but then, this one would not. It had a talent for stealth, so it would be fine- it would not upset the fragile balance of tension he had worked so hard to achieve in this city.
Having dealt with that bit of business, Raid found he had a high priority notice waiting for him from his chief of police. Apparently, a vigilante gang of norms had murdered a mech family in the Old Quarter just half an hour ago.
Raid grinned.
----------
Amy only stayed in the hospital room for a short while, leaving not long after Miles' confirmation that he would help. She told Miles that she would be back with some new clothes for him, and she did return, though an hour later than she had expected, her excuse being that she had to check on when a meeting would be held to discuss the finer points of the upcoming mission. As it turned out they were ready to go, the only factor remaining being whether or not the mercenary would help- and now that he was awake, and had agreed, things could proceed. A meeting would be held in the evening.
Miles was not entirely pleased with the clothes she had brought. They were those of a Freedom Fighter trooper, consisting of a black shirt under a thin grey-blue jacket and trousers. The jacket featured silver trim, so complete with a set of boots the thing looked somewhat like a step-down from the blue and gold Royal Guard uniform.
Feeling somewhat uncomfortable in his new clothes, Miles had gone to the cafeteria to get something to appease his empty stomach. Amy had gone with him, for which he was thankful- having someone to take his attention away from his own thoughts was just what he needed right now.
The meeting began shortly after, just as it began to rain outside. Miles found himself being led into a semi-circular shaped room, stepped seats running up the curved wall like a lecture theatre. At the front was a platform, a stage for presentations, whilst behind on the flat wall was a large computer screen. Amy identified the room as the war room- a far cry from the hut he remembered.
"Ah, meester Prower," Antoine greeted with a smile as he was shown to a seat near the front of the room. "I am glad that you will be helping us with zis mission to rescue the Princess."
"Um, yeah," he muttered, looking around at the others who had come to this little event. Most seats were now taken, filled with Mobians of various species, all wearing uniforms similar to what he had been given not too long ago. They all looked serious and sombre, talking amongst themselves in groups of five or six. "So these are the army officials, right?"
There was a pause, broken by Amy's quiet intervention.
"Not quite, Miles... This is the army."
"-wha?!" he hissed, spinning to look away from the Mobains and back at the hedgehog and coyote. "But- but there's barely sixty people here!"
"Unfortunately, zis is all that is left of our glorious army," Antoine said with an odd mixture of shame and pride. Miles stared at him.
"You're going to take on that machine army with... this?!"
The captain of the almost-destroyed elite Royal Guard bristled at his words. "I'll vill have you know that my men are ze eliteist warriors Mobius has ever known!"
"Yes, I don't doubt that," he replied tersely knowing full well how sensitive Antoine could be, "but there's hardly any of them... And a hell of a lot of swatbots and Mechanists."
"Don't worry Tails- uh, Miles, we have that covered," came a new voice. He turned to see the visage of a walrus wearing a baseball cap backwards. It could only be Rotor.
"I hope so," he growled. "With these odds, you don't stand a chance."
"But it won't stay like this for long, I'm pretty sure of that. You'll see. Ant, we should get started."
He moved down to the stage with Antoine in tow, and began to tap some commands into a computer console to the side. The lights in the room darkened a little as those around the stage brightened, and all conversation stopped.
"We know where they are," Rotor began simply, getting straight to the point. A murmur of surprise ran around the room, though Miles found that he didn't share their change to optimistic expressions.
"We were able to salvage one of the swatbots from the attack last week," the walrus continued as an image of one of the machines appeared on the wall screen behind him, "and it appears that their design is almost exactly the same as the ones we fought against Robotnik. It was a simple job to get into it's memory banks and with that done we have access to everything we need to know- location of it's home base, orders... anything."
He turned back to the computer as Antoine took the spotlight.
"We have found zat ze swatbots were sent to capture ze royal family, which zey managed much to our dismay. Zey have taken them to a base, hidden underground north of the Great Forest. We may be out-numbered and out-gunned, we may not have that fuelish hedgehog here, and we may be walking into ze very jaws of death, but of course we are to mount a rescue as soon as possible. Nothing shall stand between us and our victory!"
The captain of the Royal Guard seemed to be inflated with pride at the end of his miniature speech, standing ramrod straight with eyes closed and hands clasped tightly behind his back, as if expecting a cheer of support. When none came he opened an eye, finding all of the soldiers looking around nervously, Amy with her face planted in her hands, and Miles staring at him as if waiting for something.
A moment later, Antoine realised what he had just said. A five-year-old girl would be hard pressed to match the squeal of fright that he let out.
"What about the Mechanists?" Miles asked loudly, catching Rotor's attention. "We're going to have to fight them too, you know."
"Yes Miles," he replied, "but from reports of the attack they are not very skilled warriors. We should have no trouble against them."
Miles knew that this mission was going ahead regardless of the odds against them, so he decided that it was probably best not to point out that it would only take one lucky shot for them to score a kill. The Freedom Fighter troopers would need all the confidence they could get if they were to pull this one off.
The meeting/briefing droned on, and the mercenary began to wonder about things which he felt to be more important for the moment, main question being: should he go at all?
Sure, he felt guilty that this had happened in the first place, and he wanted to amend for his mistake in some way but- Swatbots hadn't been seen for years until just recently, and it was odd that they always turned up near to him. The first time was awfully convenient too- they attacked just as the Freedom Fighters turned up, so to find Knothole all they'd had to do was injure him. Sonic and Sally did the rest.
That explained why Shadow hadn't killed him, at least. But on the other hand, it deeply troubled him. The Guyde seemed to have some control over his actions, and a capacity for reading his thoughts too- who was to say that it hadn't been monitoring him for years? That would explain the attack on the way back to Knothole. He'd intended to avoid the city completely, ruining any chance for them to follow him there.
So, who was to say that it wasn't controlling him now? Influencing his decision to help?
That whole idea frightened him. The Guyde's words had been final, and it and the swatbots definitely wanted him dead. They probably thought he was dead, too. But, if they found that he wasn't... he couldn't face hurting people on his own side again. He didn't want to betray them...
He didn't want to betray Sonic and Aunt Sally.
----------
Two hours later, the meeting was over. As he still didn't know the area well, Amy led Miles back to his room quietly. Her mind was quite active though, all the way wondering at the sombre breaks in his usually harsh expression. Something was on his mind, something important, and she intended to find out exactly what it was.
As they entered his room, she walked over to the window to witness the pouring rain and grey sky outside. Not really knowing how to question him as to find what exactly the trouble was, she decided that being bold was going to be the best option.
"Are you alright, Miles?" she asked, not turning but remaining by the window. Had she looked at him, then she would have witnessed the harsh lines of his face soften as he let go of the mask of indifference, the expression that he always seemed to wear.
Miles couldn't keep it up anymore. Not here, not with her.
The rain poured down outside, and Amy felt a gust of wind flow through the room. She shivered in response, and began to rub her arms in an attempt to generate some warmth. As she waited for him to answer, he took moment to organise his jumbled thoughts.
"How do you do it?" Miles eventually asked quietly. She blinked, and turned around to see him looking incredibly tense. Whatever was troubling him was not an easy topic for him to speak openly about, apparently.
"Do what?"
"How can you be so confident?"
It took a while for her to formulate an answer for that one, strange question as it was.
"Because I know that everything will be alright," she said. "We're going to get everyone back, and then sort out why this is happening so that it doesn't happen again."
"Amy..." he muttered, slumping forwards under the weight of some unseen pressure. From this angle he looked so different to her, not a cold-hearted mercenary, but instead simply a confused young man.
"At the meeting, everyone seemed to, to know that there would be a happy ending to all this. They are all so certain that we can beat a few swatbots, find the captives quickly and get them out without a problem.
"But it won't be like that. A lot of people, your allies, are going to die tomorrow. And no one seems to realise it. We don't stand a chance in hell against all those machines and Mechanists."
"But..." she gawped, completely thrown out. True, she hadn't known him all that long, but Miles just didn't talk like this! She had never heard him so certain that they were going to fail. It didn't suit him at all; he was wise (though embittered) to the workings of the world, and so far had always used that to his advantage.
So... she wondered. He wasn't the sort of person to commit himself to something that he knew he couldn't win. If he honestly thought that they were doomed to failure tomorrow, then he would have pulled out of Freedom Fighter employment immediately.
He was covering for something. Both logic and women's' intuition allowed no other answer.
"Miles, tell me, what's wrong?" she asked, walking directly up to him and placing her hands on his shoulders. He refused to look at her, instead concentrating on the floor.
He murmured something.
"What?"
"I think they followed me here," he repeated louder. "I'm... I'm one of them."
"No... No!" she replied quickly. He was desperate for reassurance, which was unsurprising really- Walkers knew, he'd been denied it long enough. "Miles, you aren't one of them! You're your own person, you here me? You are what you want to be, and no one can take that away from you."
Slowly his eyes rose to hers, so she gave him an encouraging smile.
"And even if they did follow you, if they find us tomorrow because you're there, you'll show them what a mistake they made, right?"
"But Amy... I am one of them. I'm a Mech."
"I don't care. You're still you, Miles. That's all that matters to me."
He looked at her sceptically, and she knew he didn't believe her. So, before she could even think what she was doing, she leaned forwards and gave him a kiss on his cheek.
Realisation of what she had done struck her an instant later, and she pulled back sharply to witness him staring at her with surprised, confused eyes.
He made no other outward reaction. He didn't say anything, he didn't move, he didn't even blink- he just stared, as if not really knowing what to do or how to react.
Amy, on the other hand, felt like her face was on fire.
"Um... uh, you should get some sleep," she said. "You only got out of hospital today, so, uh, you're probably tired, right?"
Miles didn't reply. He just continued to watch her.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Miles. Sleep well. And don't worry... You'll feel better in the morning."
Amy left quietly, closing the door behind her as she did so. She leant up against the wall, careful to avoid the marks of battle left from last week.
It wasn't long until her hand came up and gently touched her lips.
----------
Many miles from Knothole, a frightened fourteen-year-old wolf, strapped down onto what could only be described as a mockery of a hospital operating table, shivered with fear.
"Wh... what are you going to do to me?" he asked as his jaw trembled.
It was cold here, so cold.
"I'm going to improve you," replied a nasal voice from a strange creature with a few wisps of wavy hair from atop it's bald head. "It's been a while since I've worked on a canine as young as you, so you'll have to excuse me if I'm a bit rusty. But don't worry, you'll be better in the morning."
Aesthetic pumped into the wolf's body. He only managed a whimper of fear before the cold consumed him and his world went dark.
It would be the last time that Thomas Bowen saw the world through his own eyes.