Chapter 3:
Dryad: A nymph inhabiting a forest or tree, especially an oak tree.
You wouldn't know, but it's quite a strange experience to be a tree. I stayed put for quite a while, waiting for all the emergency personnel to vacate the school's premises.
Of course my already very strained patience was further strained by the appearance of the PRT. They really looked like some kind of dystopian robot police officers, with the featureless helmets and armor plating.
They took one look at the doors and cordoned off the whole area. They quickly spread out and seemed to be searching for something, if all the flashlight beams going around was any indication. I made sure to retreat into the tree until just the faintest trace of my face remained on the other side.
I hummed to myself a little ditty as I waited and watched them suddenly go on high alert, yelling stuff about anomalous sounds.
I nearly laughed when Armsmaster finally arrived, on what was simultaneously the fattest motorcycle and the slimmest motorcycle I had ever seen. Let's just say it was very oddly proportioned.
He was in blue armor which shone in the flashlight beams as he swung off his motorcycle. The gravel crunched under his manly mechanical armored boots. He reached up to his head and depressed a small button on the side of his helmet.
Gaah! I gasped as my eyes burned, the light was intense, the whole parking lot lit up as if it was day.
"Spread out, and catalogue everything," Armsmaster commanded the PRT officers, "Give me a rundown on the current evidence."
"Yes, sir!" One of the faceless PRT goons said and promptly explained the situation. I of course listened with rapt attention.
"The cameras didn't pick up anything?" Armsmaster asked, adjusting a few, suddenly there, gauges on his halberd.
"No, sir," The officer replied, "The cameras look like they haven't been recording anything for more than a year, in fact it looks like someone just stuck a red led on the side to make it seem like they were on."
One of the PRT officers facepalmed.
Armsmaster dismissed the officers with an efficient gesture and then efficiently started to walk a circuit around the doors, I giggled quietly to myself in amusement.
Armsmaster's head snapped up, from where he was examining the door, and he quickly scanned the area. His gaze lifted to my tree, and directly into my face, carved from wood as it was.
He stepped closer and I kept absolutely still, I heard him murmur, almost subvocalizing.
"A face?" he lifted his halberd up and I, admiringly in my opinion, kept from flinching.
He snapped a picture, or several series of pictures, I couldn't really tell, and bent down to take a sliver of bark from my tree.
He turned to the nearest officer, "take this tree back to the rig."
"What?" the officer said, nearly boggling. Armsmaster cocked his head for a moment and then continued, "Hmm, maybe that is a little overmuch, just core it, and collect a dusting for samples from this face."
The nearest PRT officer nodded and raised a finger to the side of his helmet, evidently to speak over the radio to somebody.
A coring? Ewwww. Sounded awful and lewd. I wanted no part in that, as soon as Armsmaster turned his back I withdrew into the tree and focused on getting away.
Any thoughts, power? It stayed quiet, unlike its earlier chatter. With a shudder I wondered whether I had been hallucinating the earlier conversation.
Anyways, now was the time to flee, and flee I will.
I twisted a turned and wormed and ached down my roots, flowing like sap until I reached the end of my roots, about 25 ft away which was really nothing in the grand scheme of things since that still meant they were like two suburbans away. Yes, apparently my brain wants to measure things in how many suburbans they are long.
The question was, could I even leave this tree anymore, I twisted and turned some more, forcing my head out of the root and up where it had broken through the school pavement. Armsmaster and the PRT were back examining the tree and I twisted and turned some more, forcing my body out of the root and through the crack in the pavement, all the while hoping that they wouldn't notice. As luck would have it, the share crack of a rifle and then the shorter pops of handgun fire started up, maybe a few blocks over, and pretty much all the PRT officers turned to look that way.
With a massive heave and a titanic cracking sound I pulled myself out of the pavement, I bit back a gasp of pain as the rock scraped my skin, and left my green blood behind, as I darted away.
Whirr, thrip!
A dart hit my calf and I almost stumbled but kept on running quickly losing the PRT in the darkness of the city. Of course I had no illusions that they wouldn't be able to find me shortly, and so I needed to act fast.
Thankfully, or maybe not so much for my sense of dignity, I was nude, and I had flashed all the PRT, including Armsmaster on my way out of the parking lot. I heard shouting and running feet behind me, the PRT finally getting organized and focused on booking it.
Regretfully, this neighborhood really didn't seem to have many places to hide, it was mostly office buildings and small residences. Which aren't really conducive for hiding. Well, I mean…
I looked up and smiled before leaping, I snagged a pipe in my hand that was quite rickety and started to climb up, my fingers grasping and crushing the pipe to keep me from slipping.
In no time at all, I swung my body over the railing of a little porch balcony thing and relaxed, letting out a short exhale of relief.
I heard the slap of boots and peaked my head over the railing, to look below, a PRT officer stood at the mouth of the little alleyway I darted down and walked down it, shining his light around while walking down its length, he, or she, met another officer at the end.
The one that walked down the alley shook his head and they continued on.