CHAPTER 2

1 had no idea where he was or where he was going. He couldn't see anything, thanks to a piece of dirty cloth tied over his optics. He couldn't move his arms either, since they were tied behind his back with some kind of wire. The ground below him felt uneven but he couldn't slow down long enough to catch his footing. Someone kept prodding him along at a brisk pace and wouldn't let him slow down. Sometimes he actually did lose his balance and fall but when this happened he was yanked roughly to his feet and forced to walk again.

This had been going on for quite awhile. He woken to find himself blind folded and tied up and had panicked at his suddenly blindness. When he'd yelped in surprise he'd alerted someone who rested something sharp against his neck and hissed a warning. "scream and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Since he was already scared to death he obeyed instantly, not wanting the person to carry out their threat.

"Good, you're a fast learner," the speaker growled. "Keep that up and we'll get along great."

A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Now move, we have a long trek ahead of us."

As he walked he tried to figure out how this had happened and what the reason was for it all. Why would someone break into his sanctuary and then take him prisoner? Who were these people and what did they want? He determined to find out the moment they reached their destination and he was able to take a breather. For now he couldn't do much but focus on keeping his balance.

Plus he was too afraid to ask them.

He was allowed to take a rest a short time later when someone grabbed him by his ponytail and yanked him backward onto a rock or something that served as a kind of seat. He was forced to sit down and when he tried to pull away he was merely yanked back onto it.

"Don't move from this spot," a low voice growled near his right audio unit. "If you do you will regret it."

1 was scared but also angry. Who did these people think they were, ordering him around like this? "Let go of me, you creep," he growled, managing to make his voice stay even It wouldn't help if it trembled.

"Listen to this guy," the speaker mocked. "at the mercy of dangerous criminals and he's busy making demands."

Something hard and heavy slammed into 1's stomach. He grunted and fell off the rock, curling up on the ground in agony. It felt like somebody had hit him with a brick.

Above him he heard laughter. Coming from three different sources.

"That'll teach him to act high and mighty," the first speaker cackled. "He'll learn that the rules are different here and he's no better than the rest of us."

Somebody kicked him, making him cry out. "How does that feel, oh mighty one? What rules do you have now?"

1 felt it was wise not to say anything so he kept his mouth shut. Maybe keeping quiet would keep him alive a little longer. But then he realized if they really wanted to kill him they would have done so at the sanctuary. They needed him for something so they couldn't kill him, but that didn't mean they couldn't hurt him. He never was very fond of pain which was one of the many reasons he never learned to defend himself. He usually replied totally on 8 to keep him safe but 8 wasn't there and he was alone. There was no one there to protect him.

He wished 8 or even 7 was there to help him but he knew that was wishful thinking. Neither of them were there to protect him and he was forced to either shut up or say more things that could get him into worse trouble. It was obvious these guys were looking for reasons to beat up on him.. He chose to stay silent.

Because he chose to stay silent he managed to learn a bit out the people who had taken him by their conversation.

"I don't get why the boss made us go all the way here just to pick up some old relic," the one who'd punched him started complaining.

"It's simple," another voice spoke up, this one sounding distinctly female. "This guy has a specific piece of knowledge we don't which will tell us where something very valuable and important is."

"How is boss so sure this old man knows where this item is?" the first speaker demanded. "For all he knows he could have read it all wrong and it's another guy who has the knowledge."

"No, it's him," the female spoke again. "He's the very first one made so he has to know. That old man had to have told him something. That's how it usually goes. The first creation always gets told the good stuff while the ones after never get told anything but simple little things."

What were they talking about? Special knowledge? An important item? None of their words made any sense. Of course 1 had been the first stitchpunk his creator had assembled and give life, but the man hadn't told him much. 1 had learned things on his own by researching. But he was pretty sure even doing that didn't give him any special knowledge. He knew about as much as anyone else, maybe a little more.

"So does that mean boss knows more than we do?"

"Of course," the female replied. "he's the first of us so he knows everything."

"Yet he doesn't know where this item is," the first speaker pointed out. "he had to have us cross the emptiness just to pick up some squint eyed bob head."

"That squint eyed bob head was the first one given life," the female replied. "and the reason we even exist. If that guy hadn't been successful we wouldn't be here."

"Eh, he doesn't look like much of anything to me. He's not even put together very well. Did you see how his hands look? It's all crude. I'm surprised he's not falling apart."

The female giggled and he sensed someone moving toward him .A foot rolled him onto his back. "Oh, I don't know," the female said. He felt a hand touch his face. "He looks kind of cute for an old man."

"Of course you'd say that, 16, you like older men."

"I always have, 15 dearest." she replied, tracing 1's cheek with her finger. "Oh he feels so rough. I wonder what he's made of?"

1 shuddered. He didn't like this female touching him but he couldn't stop her from doing so. It made him uncomfortable.

"Do you think the boss will let me keep him after he's done with him?" 16 asked, petting 1's cheek then playing with his ponytail. "I don't have any toys and he'd make a perfect play thing."

Play thing? 1 didn't want to be any one's play thing, especially not some creepy female who giggled like a fool. He jerked away from her.

"Ooooo you wanna play, honey bun?" the female asked, grabbing him and yanking him back toward her.

"No!" he yelled, scared to death. "Leave me alone!"

"He's got such a gravely voice," 16 giggled. "I wanna take him home and stick him on my bed!"

Her bed? 1 kicked at her. His foot actually made contact with something that shattered. He heard her yelp in pain and let him go.

He tried to get up but a hand grabbed his foot and he was yanked backward. He landed on his stomach. "Oof!"

A weight landed on his back, pinning him to the ground.

"That wasn't very nice, honey," the female said. Her fingers dug painfully into the fabric on his back, making him wince. "Now I'm going to have to punish you."

Her fingers dug deeper into his back. He screamed when she started tearing. "Stop it! STOP!"

"Not until you apologize for being so rude!"

"Enough 16!" 15 yelled at her. "If you tear him up anymore boss is going to tear your up!:"

"But-" 16 tried to protest.

"No buts."

"Fine," she pouted. "You always ruin my fun."

The weight left 1's back but his fabric remained torn. He moaned and rolled onto his side.

"You're going to have to fix what you did," 15 went on. "If the boss sees that you roughed him up like that he'll have a fit."

"Well you punched and kicked him," she protested. "you don't call that roughing him up?"

"But I didn't tear his fabric." he calmly pointed out.

"You know I can't sew."

"Fine then." 15 spoke to someone else. "21, if you'd be so kind."

1 didn't hear 21's reply. A few seconds fingers were touching his back and he felt a needle running through his fabric, repairing the damage. The fact that the person fixing him hadn't spoken made him uneasy. Why hadn't they said anything? He wished they weren't touching him. Their hands were cold.

A short time later the silent seamstress finished with the repairs and moved away. Once this was done 1 was yanked roughly to his feet and forced to walk some more.

0000

7 and 5 moved through the ruined city, doing their best to find any clue that might tell them which way the people had taken 1. So far they hadn't had much luck.

"Where do you think we should start looking?" 5 asked her, looking at the map.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "What if we look on place and he winds up being in another place? In the time it takes us to search the one place he could be getting further away from us somewhere else."

5 put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," he told her. "We'll find him. There aren't many places they can go."

"I know," she replied, getting up. "But that doesn't make anything better. They still are getting away with this and we have no way of stopping them."

"Maybe we'll find something they left behind," 5 suggested. "Like footprints or something."

7 looked around. "But there are no footprints," she stated, sounding frustrated. 'They did a good job covering their tracks. They don't want us following or stopping them. They want to make sure we can't."

"Oh..." 5 wandered off to look for any sign of them, leaving 7 to her thoughts.

She sighed. This was going to be harder than she thought. She climbed over some fallen wood and searched the ground for any signs. Where could they have gone? she asked herself. Why had they taken him? Why were they so determined to keep people from following after? None of this made any sense. What could they possibly hope to accomplish by kidnapping 1?

It made no sense at all. She stood up. "What's so great about 1 anyway?" she asked herself.

"7!" 5's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Come here!"

7 instantly ran over to him. "What is it, 5?"

He turned to her, holding up something. "Look what I found."

7 took a good look at the item. "It looks like a belt buckle."

"I think it's 1's," 5 said. "It might have broken off while they were moving him."

7 didn't respond. She stared down at the buckle. It did indeed look a great deal like one of the belt buckles on 1's body. She closed her fingers around it. Yes. it had to be his. "Where did you find this?" she asked him.

"Over there," 5 said, pointing toward a pile of rocks. "It was lying in the soil over there."

7 ran over to the spot and knelt down. She could make out some scratches in the soil that look like faint footprints. She studied them a moment, taking in the direction they were headed, then stood up. "I think we found the trail."

00000

1 couldn't go on much longer. He stumbled on the uneven ground then fell. "Get up!" 15's voice shouted, kicking him in the side. "hGet up and move, you poor excuse for a stitchpunk!"

"Now who's being abusive?" 16's voice spoke up. "can't you see he's exhausted?"

"Boss said we had to bring him back tonight." 15 informed her. "We can't do that if he doesn't move."

1 lay there panting. Was that guy crazy? He didn't have enough energy to keep walking! But he didn't say a word. If he did he knew they wouldn't care anyway. He's probably be kicked again or worse.

"So what are you going to do? If you want to keep moving maybe you should carry him."

"No way! We carried him out of the church! He's too heavy to carry!"

"Well then I guess we're going to have to wait for him to regain his energy then," 16 stated.

15 sighed. "Fine. But only for 15 minutes."

"That should be long enough."

No, it wasn't long enough! 1 was exhausted! There was no way he could regain his strength in 15 minutes. He took some deep breaths, wishing he was back at home laying in his nice soft bed. What did he ever do to deserve all of this? Sooner than he realized the fifteen minutes were up and he was forced to walk again.

But it seemed 15 had grown impatient. He kept shoving 1, making him walk faster, as if he wanted to make up for lost time. The older stitchpunk was forced to move at the faster pace, though he felt as if he was going to collapse at any moment. Why was the other stitchpunk being so cruel? What had he ever done to him? Once again he wished 8 was there so the stitchpunk could teach this guy some manners.

A half hour later 1 was forced to top when someone grabbed his arm and yanked him backward. He fell against someone who shoved him forward. Two pairs of hands grabbed his arms before he fell and held him up.

"All right," 15 said. "let's bring him in."

A high pitched noise startled him. It sounded like metal scraping againts metal. Was a door opening? When the sound stopped the people grasping his arms moved forward, forcing him to do the same. Suddenly his footsteps went from quiet on the dirt ground to loud as they made contact with a metal floor. He was in some kind of building! Behind him the metal sound started up again and his knew that it was a door closing. The sound had a finality to him and he felt himself beginning to panic.

Where was he? How far from sanctuary was he? What was going to happen to him and would he live to see the end?

He was led down what he figured was a hall and then taken into another part of the building. Somebody opened a door and shoved him roughly inside. He tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor.

"Sleep well, grandpa!" 15's voice cackled before the metalic closing of a door muted out the sound.

1 lay on the cold metal floor for a moment then painstakening pulled himself into a sitting postion. He was still blindfolded and his arms were still tied behind his back. But he didn't need to see to know he was in a room. He felt the wall behind him, his metal fingers brushing against the cold steel.

Once again panic started rising in his chest but he forced it back down. If he lost his head he'd never be able to fiugre out how to get out of there. Wherever there was.

This is ridiculous, he told himself. Who do they think they are, doing this to me? What do they want?

Well he'd find out soon enough. He knew without having to spend too much time thinking about it, that they'd taken him for a reason, as 15 and 16 had discussed on the way there. But what exactly was it they wanted? Nobody had really said anything about it. Just that they thought he knew where something was? What was that something and why did they think he knew?

The stitchpunk had no way of figuring it out by himself. He would have to ask them, when they chose to return for him. Until then... until then he would spend his time trying to figure out how to get out of there...

But he didn't spend any time thinking. Exhaustion took over and he dozed off, his body sliding over until he lay on his side on the floor.

00000

The footprints led 7 and 5 into a part of the emptiness they'd never explored before. 7 noticed that the further they walked the more ruined the buldings appeared. This told her they were getting close to a part of the city where the war had hit worst. She looked away from some corpses, trying not to think about that time. It wouldn't help to dwell on those things. Not when she had more important things to think about.

It was getting light out so that was a plus. She could see the footprints better now. They were still shallow but legable. What she did notice though was that there seemed to be more than a few sets. Of course they all looked practically the same except for a few differences but other than that...

"5," she said.

"Yes?" the one eyes stitchpunk question, coming up behind her. "Did you notice that there seems to be a lot of footprints here?"

5 looked where she pointed. He nodded. "Yes, I did. Is there something odd about that?"

"Maybe," she looked at him. "I know there were four stitchpunks that attacked me and 8 in the sanctuary. I figured those would be the only footprints we'd see unless they made 1 walk." she looked at a certain pair that stood out. "1 always had a different foot design than the rest of us. He's right here."

5 looked at the foot prints then back at her. "So?" he wasn't getting the point.

"That should only make for five pairs of footprints." she pointed. 'There are eight!"

"Eight?"

"Yes, eight." she frowned. "Doesn't that seem odd to you? Why would seven different stitchpunks come together to find one other stitchpunk?"

"Maybe they thought they would have to fight for him?" 5 suggested.

"But seven's still a big number." she looked at the footprints again. "Maybe you're right. Let's keep going. Standing here and discussing footprints aren't going to get us anywhere."

5 nodded and moved forward. She floowed but not before giving the footprints another worried look. One of the sets had moved away from the others and wandered off in a different direction. She followed them with her eyes, an uneasy feeling washing over her. What-

"7, are you coming?" 5 called to her.

"Yes," she said, turning away from the odd set of footprints. "I'm coming!" she rushed to catch up.

I wonder why that one set of footprints moves away from the others? she asked herself. What could it mean? she gripped her spear tighter. If it means what I think it does we'd better be ready for any delays.