Chapter 5- The Flight
I had been captured.
I had expected it, really. It's not hard to see a person running for their life, especially when everything else there has been burned to the ground.
The Directorate guards had grabbed me. They were stationed by some kind of bomb shelter a short distance from the fence. They took me underground into the shelter. Inside, there was a network of hallways that I realized must run under the entire dead zone. They were dimly-lit with blue lights. I was taken through one long one that ended in a large room lit with the same eerie lights.
I was surprised to find out that they weren't going to hurt me. I was taken to a chair on one side of the room. There was a large control panel-type thing- I wasn't quite sure what it was- in the center. Several people were standing around it. They were having some kind of long-distance conversation with what I guessed was someone from the Directorate headquarters in England.
I waited for several hours. People in uniforms would come and speak to me, ask me questions. They offered to take my mug. I refused.
At this point I had no idea what they were going to do to me. They were acting as if I was a guest of honor, even though they were sort of holding me hostage. And everybody had little blue headpieces. They must have served some purpose; I doubted there was room for decorative wear when there's a war going on. Everybody called me Seven until I told them my name was Z. They seemed to find that strange, to have a letter for a name, but they still stopped. It's no better than being called a number.
Then somebody came in who was acting very excited. He was saying something about a plane that had landed and a guy named Hatchenson.
Some more people entered with a man not in the uniform that the Directorate workers had. He was wearing a black bomber jacket and had a pair of green aviator goggles perched on his head. He was rather short, and had light brown hair. His eyes were of a similar color to his goggles. He walked up to me slowly, looking extremely shocked. I stood up defensively.
"What?" I asked. Then it occurred to me that he might not understand German. I switched to English, which I knew thanks to the tutor my parents hired for me. "Who are you?" I asked. My accent was very thick, but at least I could speak. The pilot was still looking shocked. He was also wearing a blue headpiece, I noticed.
"You-you're Subject Seven!" He exclaimed. His voice was American-accented and fairly squeaky. He walked around me slowly. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Z! Do you know how important you are? I mean, you're like the freaking MESSIAH!" This guy had a screw loose…
"I, er, thank you," I said awkwardly. "Mister Hatchenson?" He gasped.
"You actually know my name? I am so glad it was I that was sent on this mission!" He said, half to himself. "We're taking you to the HQ. There's WAY too much for me to explain- In short, Dr. Gromov has a project and you're a part of it." I was going to the headquarters? Why was I important all of a sudden? And who was Dr. Gromov? Well, I got what I wanted, didn't I? No use complaining.
I was led by Hatchenson to a cavernous round room. I gasped; there was a plane with a camouflage paintjob in the center. The ceiling had large cracks in it in a spiral pattern.
"This is your ride, Seven!" Hatchenson said. I blinked. I had never even seen a plane before. This was all very sudden…
The pilot opened the cockpit doors. "Climb in!" He said excitedly. He tossed me a pair of purple goggles that were similar to his but smaller. "You'll need these." I climbed cautiously into the co-pilot seat. Suddenly, the floor jolted upwards. The ceiling spread apart like the lens of a camera. Once we were at ground level, Hatchenson started the plane. We picked up speed. I felt a bump as the plane lifted off the ground.
"Cool, amiright? Right?" the pilot said giddily. We were rising quickly. This was the strangest thing yet, I thought, clenching the mug tightly.
"So, you're taking me to zee headquarters, Mr. Hatchenson?" I asked.
"Yep! And call me Chris. We'll be there in around two hours."
We got lost.
And somehow managed to fly over enemy territory.
Chris had to do some very imaginativemaneuvering to get us out of the situation. They were shooting at us. They missed, thankfully, but all of the swerving was making me a bit woozy.
"I bet it's your luck, Z," Hatchenson said, laughing nervously as we swerved particularly violently to avoid a missile. "Luckiest man alive, you are. That's why they want ya!" Well, that explains how I survived a ten-story jump.
It eventually took around four hours to get to England. The Directorate City was a beacon of light in a deserted landscape. You could spot it from miles away, which I in fact did. As we got closer, I saw that there was an enormous cube-shaped building in the center of the city. It was sending out large floodlights to penetrate the darkness. This was sort of unnecessary, since the city was extremely light-polluted.
We approached ground until we touched down softly on a track near the cube. After we stopped taxiing, Chris opened the cockpit doors again.
"You can take the goggles off now. They're yours, by the way. My gift." He said happily. I barely heard him. I was too busy taking in the surroundings. I had never been in a non-destroyed city, let alone one with a war HQ. "Man oh man. Gromov's gonna tan my hide for being so late… Oh well. At least you get a midnight entrance.
We walked around the cube to the front doors. It was a wide mouth of a door, glowing orange-yellow from inside.
"Your time to shine, Seven." Hatchenson said. He pushed a button and the door spread wide open.
I walked in and everything erupted into cheering.
A/N: This is unintentionally far longer than the other chapters… what.
Also, I've always thought of Pilot not as the youngest. I think he lost his memory when ANNET crashed. But that is another chapter…