AN: Ok guys, here's chapter 28. There's a bit of gore in this one, not much though. Also Wednesday of next week will be the last chapter (noooooo), just to let you know. Thank you for reading, and reviewing (for those of you who review). Also please enjoy the chapter.
***Miles***
Where the hell have you been?
The last of many bullet wounds were being mended by little clouds of black haze.
Well excuse me your majesty.
Nope, not excused.
I was still strapped to a metal chair in the empty room. There had to be a gaggle of scientists hiding on the other side of the reflective glass window. It was only a matter of time before Eyebrows or one of his friend decided they were going to see how long I could be trapped underwater, or electrocuted, or how many times I could get shot, or how many organs they could start hacking away at before I died. Well, they would probably be more creative, they'd already done all of those.
It seems that we're in a tight spot, doesn't it.
No, really? I was starting to think that it was pretty nice over here. If we asked really nicely I'm sure that they would let us waltz out the front door, for good behavior they might even put us up at a hotel for a couple of nights while I get back up on my feet.
That was a bit overdramatic even for you
Oh bite me, just get us out of here, or tell me how to do it.
That will be somewhat complicated.
I don't like where this is going.
Well…
What.
They seem to have wisened up and started using some… useful safety precautions.
Like goddamn salt.
Exactly
Before I focused too much on some acidic retort a couple of biohazard suited people walked in, being flanked by them was the same doctor who decided that shooting me with a handgun was a good idea. The bastard was a nasty piece of work, if I remembered hearing correctly- and I did- the electrocuting, the drowning, the stabbings, a stay in a walk in freezer, and umpteen other 'fun' tasks were his idea. Just from reflex I had a scowled the size of manhattan painted across my face at the sight of him.
He was still holding that damn tape recorder in his hand "Mr. Upshur, all of the evidence from your last battery of testing has disappeared. Do you feel any discomfort?"
"Piss off" saying that I'm in no mood to be answering this assholes questions is putting it lightly.
He will be the first one we kill while escaping.
Ghost, for once I agree completely.
His caterpillar calibre eyebrows came crashing together in annoyance "The subject appears to be functioning at his full physical capabilities, we will proceed with the Paranormal Litmus Tests."
He went on babbling about what they were about to do to me. Without much thought I blocked them out, it only took until the fifth or so bout of torture for me to realize that I didn't want to know.
As I was saying, before they walked in. They seemed to have learned a few lessons since our last encounter. Although its been some time since anyones used salt to trap me.
About that. What the hell!? Your kryptonite is a table seasoning?
No, it's simply a very effective tool to contain me.
How? And do I need to know about any other surprises?
Don't worry about it, if there's something that you need to know, you'll know.
Oh, I feel so much better now. Thank you.
Very welcome.
It knew what sarcasm was, it just didn't care apparently.
"Everyone into positions"
While I'd tuned out the master and his puppets had been putting together quite a set. Everyone stood in their own little rings of salt, and on the ground sat what looked like a glorified remote control dustpan.
"Disable all of the EMP fields" The good doctor spoke out to some unseen person who was undoubtedly monitoring this all, then addressed his biohazard equipped lackies "whatever you do, do not move, do not attempt to leave the room, and under no circumstances should you address Mr. Upshur."
Well lookie there, I get to be referred to by my actual name, how endearing.
As they all settled into their places there was a change in the air. Probably their turning off of those stupid fields. I feel lighter, less like I'm being crushed by my own rib cage.
"Sir, the fields are disabled" a voice came from one of the biohazard suits in the room.
"Good, proceed with phase one."
Henchmen number one remotely clicked on his toy dust pan and steered it towards the ring of salt situated around my chair. The pan pushed through the circle.
These people are profoundly stupid.
I glanced back up to Eyebrows.
For a second he just looked back, the faces of the other two people were implausible to see. I could only imagine that they were sweating in the silence. The doctor looked level at me.
He doesn't think we're going to do anything
"What, you think I'm going to do a little song and dance?" the sarcastic retort burst its way out before I had too long to consider what I was actually going to do.
The doctor spoke back into his recorder "the subject is immobile, there is no sign of paranormal activity."
Thoroughly miffed I took a second look at the cuffs securing my hands to the chair arms. They were metal, not leather that I could cut through. Breaking them might be plausible, if I wanted to pulverize my wrist in the process. They would heal, sure, but it would take a while. What if…
How are your lock picking skills?
Adequate
That would do.
Without too much concern about being seen a few tendrils of the swarm snaked their way from under my skin. Moving unhampered by any bullshit fields or my own apprehension I had them in the key holes of the handcuffs and turning tumblers in no time. I still had my eyes locked on the doctor when the cuffs clicked open. Without saying a word I stood up from the chair.
The man in the biohazard suit to my left shook like a leaf.
I hadn't even started to make things scary yet.
While I took my sweet time to step over the broken ring the all too fresh memory of the good doctor taking a scalpel to my lower intestine couldn't find its way out of my head. Gray clouds of nanobots shed from my every pour. Upon seeing a faint flinch flash over the doctors face I had to stop myself from picking the low hanging fruit and telling him he looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"The subject has exhibited fine motor control of the swarm,"
The gray haze reached the edge of the salt and just like last time stopped cold at it, only to begin spreading around the ring like river water would a stone.
"The previously deterrent of sodium chloride is still serves as effective shielding"
As the swarm meet the edges of the outer ring a few slivers started to climb, one of the biohazard suits started breathing heavily enough to outdo an air compressor. Three small steps across the clouded floor and I was at the threshold of the doctors circle. The clouds reached the ceiling, two of the three fluorescent bulbs popped, dropping the room into just enough shadow to be completely disturbing.
The smug bastard who'd decided that injecting me with a couple dozen poison would be a good way to pass the time stood behind his pathetic little shield with an eat-shit grin just asking to be taught a lesson. Buzzing and a low hum were the noises predominating the room, somewhere below the two the crinkling of plastic from one of the biohazard suits was noticeable, if forgettable.
"The subject is capable of area effects, and is quite adept at causing extreme unease and a powerful sense of danger"
Sense of danger? What a twat.
I took a small look at the ring on the floor. Unceremoniously I scuffed it with the toe of my boot. The little white grains moved from their position
The circle was broken. In a second the doctors eyes flashed wide, real panic forced the arrogant air from his face. He hadn't really thought that I couldn't touch the salt myself, had he?
"Turn on the fie-!"
My fist cracked against his jaw. The fucker went to the ground, landing half in the black swarm, half in his pathetic circle. Ignoring the cloud I kicked him. In the gut, in the head, the face, a stomp to the knees, a snap of his shins. Not laughing now that its your bones being broken, are you?
The swarm dropped from a haze to a simple carpet of metal, they'd gotten their fields back up too late for the doctor; any strength from the Walrider was still there, just not the physical swarm. Grabbing the lapels of his lab coat I slammed the bloodied man into the one way glass that was the wall.
"Wha…..I-" blood dribbled from his broken nose, a tooth dropped from his swollen mouth.
Another thrash against the wall rattled a slobbering cough from his chest and cut out the breathless words. Losing the buzz of my machines left the room in silence, interrupted only by frantic pounding on the steele door that was the only entrance to this room. Over my shoulder the two biohazard suits battled each other for more space to grope at the locked door.
No one was coming to help them, Murkoff didn't have the decency to actually help people, especially not their own soulless employees.
The leaking and mangled doctor made a fine projectile. The three of them went down in a pile of limbs and panic.
A look up from the pile told me that the room was in lock down, the door was bolted shut, the glass was tempered and reinforced. No open air vents, even if they had been, there was no swarm to use. I looked back at the pile of men, one gave a half conscience groan. I've said it before, but fuck this place.
There had to be a way out, there always was.
Patience, the chance will come.
Hmph, the door looked like a pretty nice chance to me. But we blew it.
There will be another one, in the mean time…
What.
In the mean time we have guests.
I looked again at the heep on the floor. The one on the bottom still moved a little and I'm pretty sure that the doctor was still barely alive.
We should give them the same attention they gave us.
I had time to kill. Besides, they deserved the worse and then some.
***Waylon***
"...any day now Micky" Chealsy paced the edge of the dock like a lion would its cage.
'Micky' her bigwig contact that was coming from god-knows-where was supposed to be showing up at some point today. I didn't know when, only that Chealsy said he'd be here and that we were waiting. While Chealsy paced the 'interview' from the other day still loomed over me.
A little life had been breathed into me, not much. But just enough for me to be sure that I actually wanted to post the footage. Sure I could act like it was because I wanted to make Lisa's death worth something, like it would be to see the company that murdered my family burn, but in reality it was simply because that was all I had left to do. It was the one goal left in my pointless life.
"...sorry Lisa" I told myself under my breath "you deserved better."
"Finally!"
Startled by the sudden noise I looked up. Chealsy stood at the edge of the little wooden dock staring at a small boat that was steadily coming closer.
"...hurry up, hurry up, hurry up…" she muttered as a couple of wayward fingers twitched in anticipation.
So, here came Micky, the man to call apparently.
The ship was but twenty yards out, fifteen, ten, five…
"Well if you're not a sight for sore eyes" he had an accent… Australian?Some type of odd British?
"It's about damn time" A bald man in his mid forties dressed in business casual and toting a single duffle bag stepped of the barley drifting ship as Chealsy began to nag.
"I had a hold up" he took a look at me "you must be our associate for this… case."
"I-"
"That's Waylon Park, more importantly lets get this show on the road" she began walking to I-don't-know-where.
Micky sighed in annoyance and gave a world class role of the eyes, muttering mostly to himself "over a decade of working together and still not an ounce of professional courtesy" before following. As I filled in behind them he said, to everyone this time "do you have any idea where we're going?"
"Nope" Chealsy told him without looking over her shoulder
"Then slow down, luckily for you I had the foresight to rent a hotel room, under a fake name of course."
"Great" she told him with the enthusiasm of a castrated dog "show us they way"
Without fanfare or a single comment he did.