XVEscape

Protea

d All the alcohol in the world couldn't quell my apprehension, and my god, I needed a drink.

"Ow!"

Marcel gasped in pain as I accidentally crushed his hand in my iron grip. With a hasty, half-hearted apology, I released him. I couldn't focus on anything other than my imminent metamorphosis.

The doctor had finished preparing his workstation, which needed little preparation in the first place. I knew he was just wasting time, the bastard. And I had thought Kruger was a master of suspense.

"Are you ready to begin?" The doctor hovered over me, silhouetted ghoulishly against the glaring lights.

I didn't answer him. I waited for a long time.

There was no way out of this, other than forward.

I was trapped… again.

Never had I imagined my life would turn out like this. Paralyzed from the waist down, preparing to be healed with the most elite of Elysian technology, as a fugitive; all the while clenching the hand of a young, handsome, Elysian doctor who actually liked me. Even being here, on Elysium, under the best circumstances left me yearning to be back in a place I was constantly in danger. Back in that moment where I became irrevocably bound to one man, one monster, wherein a bout of bewildering pity and longing, saved him from death, if not forever, then for his nearest future.

Perhaps I should have left him there, left him dead. Surely I would not be in this situation I now found myself in. But then again, where would I really be? I'd be dead, but at the claws of Delacourt.

That was surely a worse fate.

Right?

I had no time to ponder.

With a brisk nod and pursed lips, I prepared my body and mind for the transformation. As I tried to swallow my instincts to run, the doctor wasted no time beginning the process.

A golden light washed over me. I heard the deep hum of a machine coming to life beneath me. I tensed, slamming my eyes shut so tightly they hurt. I didn't want to watch my legs, black and blue and bruised, melt back to my natural golden skin. I didn't want to watch my hair recede to the length I chose moments ago. I didn't want to change and I didn't want to see anymore.

The healing lasted for all of about seven seconds. It took longer for me to respond to the doctor's prompts.

"Hello, miss? Did you hear me?"

I blinked up at the doctor like a lost child.

"I said, are you ready to begin the transformation?"

Nothing has happened yet? I'm still me? "W-what?" I stammered, suddenly unaware of my surroundings.

"Just… Hold out your arm and lets begin," the doctor huffed, thoroughly annoyed. I complied and held out my arm. In a moment, I was a citizen of Elysium. Just like that, I could be healed of any illness, injury, like I was immortal. I stared up at the doctor against the harsh overhead light. He shifted away from my pitiable gaze and commenced the process.

I shut my eyes again and was immediately enveloped by a feeling of warmth. I felt a slight tingling sensation on my legs beneath the specialized hospital sheets. The tingling raced up to my pelvis, lingering there for a moment before spreading to my arms and chest. Finally, I felt the buzzing sensation before my eyes. I kept them shut, but curiosity begged me to look into the light. I swallowed the vehement urge to cry out as a single jolt of electricity ran through my body, waking me up from the momentary slumber I was put into. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the light of the operating room. When I did finally open my eyes, Marcele's amber ones were there to greet me.

"Marcele…?"

"Yes, Protea?"

"How do I look?"

He chuckled softly, a tear streaming down his face. "You look fine." I could not imagine why he was crying. It was me who had to cope with the fact I had changed my entire physical being. I could only imagine how long it would take to remember that when I looked in the mirror, I was still staring back. But still, it was Marcele who cried now.

I reached out to tenderly touch his cheek, to swipe away the tear and tell him with a soft voice how sensitive he was. As soon as I saw my hand, however, I screamed.

It was not so much a scream as a strangled chirp of terror. With new eyes, I scanned the rest of my body, ripping the sheet aside and forgetting dignity. I grasped at the pale flesh of my new body, as if trying to be rid of the alien visage. My hands groped at my face, fingers running feverishly through my new short hair. I uttered the strange squealing noise again, inviting a new look of shock from Marcele and the doctor.

I felt suffocated.

I had to get out.

The nearest door was a glass one with a sleek silver handle and a button pad. Needless to say, I did not waste time trying to open the door. With ludicrous strength, my leg rocketed out through the glass. The entire pane disintegrated beneath my foot, a reverberating ting hanging in the air. I heard a shriek of surprise from the secretary sitting just outside the office. She fumbled with the phone on her desk, chattering madly for assistance in B-wing. I wasted no time leaving the mess behind. I sprinted with inhuman speed down the sterile hallway, all the while forgetting that I was completely paralyzed not an hour ago. Several sharp turns and I was in a stairwell, zipping down the stairs, taking three at a time. Eventually, I was on the bottom floor of the grand white hospital. Sunlight beckoned me forwards through another pair of glass doors, which, fortunately, opened without the help of my foot. Not decreasing my speed, I kept running, even as I heard the wail of sirens somewhere beyond my left ear. Instinctively, I veered away from the sirens into the luscious tropical bush aside the hospital.

I did not stop running until I reached the point where the forest of palms and undergrowth met a vast expanse over-looking all of Elysium. I paused only for the mere fact that the view I saw before me was pause-worthy. Gazing out over the sunlit expanse of land and into the stars beyond rendered me speechless. I gazed up at the bright blue sky, and strained my eyes to see past the artificial light, into the inky black and blue depths of space. A single star twinkled in my vision. I realized with a stone in my gut, that I had no idea which way Earth was. If I was to truly escape, I would have to leave here, for good.

But how?!

Having your desperations answered on cue is exhilarating in a terrifying sort of way, and my desperations were answered in the form of a low mechanical hum, mere feet above my head.

I ducked low in the brush close to the base of a large palm tree. The glider came in at what would have been a relatively low speed, if I had not been standing directly beneath it. It zoomed past my head, sending me tumbling across the ground in its vortex. I tried to aim my tumble, and scarcely managed to stay hidden beneath the wide palm fronds. I struck a trunk, feeling a shooting but momentary pain in my shoulder. I quickly righted myself and glanced around for the glider. It had landed somewhere within the vicinity of the hospital I had just come from. I heard shouting male voices and the mechanized responses of Armadyne bots.

Feeling no fear, I jogged low to the ground like a predator tracking prey, towards the hospital and ship. I reached the end of undergrowth and peered with strained eyes at the glider. With a jolt, I went rigid with adrenaline. The ship that had landed was no standard issue craft. It had personality. It had history.

It was the Raven.

My eyes widened to their fullest extent, taking in all the explicit details of Agent Kruger's ship. I felt my heart hammering so hard in my chest, I thought for a moment it could actually break my ribs. I looked on with intent eyes. I briefly wondered if it was a problem that I no longer felt fear of anything, not even Kruger. For now, my lack of terror worked to my advantage. I felt no other need than to flee.

I watched for what felt like hours. I watched three men in sleek metal wires and bulky armour stalk slowly towards the hospital commotion. Their commander stalked further behind, trailing his men like a pack leader before a fight. He walked the same way he always had; with an arrogant defiance that stalled authority and made it question itself, with a look of hostility to match. His men carried machine guns loaded with who knows what. The three of them approached the hospital and started barking at innocent hospital staff, questioning what had happened and why they were needed on such short notice. The poor "security guards" yelped their uncertainty, begging forgiveness for calling the bloody mercenaries on a code red case. The three men were visibly peeved but complied, entering to search the interior of the hospital for the escaped patient that was once Protea.

I took the precious moments of time I knew I had to take the jaunt towards the Raven. Kruger would sense immediately that there was no escapee in the hospital and would soon be tracing the grounds. If I was not a stow-away on that ship soon, I would never see Earth again.

I reached the open hanger door and cautiously peered inside and out, watching ever so closely for passerby that might see me. Fortunately, there was no one in or near the Raven. I crept aboard silently, inhaling a familiar scent of musk and gunpowder and alcohol. Something about it made me glad it wasn't the over-sterile scent of the hospital or the dank scent of the prison. It was a real smell, unlike anything on Elysium. I caught myself silently craving for the familiarity of Earth, to be back with my friends and Spider, playing with his gimp little boy. I remembered he had shaggy dark brown hair like his father, and dark eyes that glittered when something exciting happened. His eyes resembled those of the boy that stood in front of me.

With sudden shock, I jumped in place, startled by the young boy who looked at me with wide, wide eyes. We stared at each other for a long period of time. I was the first to make a move. Slowly, I raised a finger to my lips, pleading silently for him to be quiet and just understand my desperation. He only stared at me with the same wide eyes, unmoving.

I tried appealing to him, by whispering urgently and looking over my shoulder. "Listen, kid," I scuttled around him, out of view, "I need to hide here. I need to get to Earth. I don't know if Kruger is holding you hostage, or delivering you to someplace, I don't care. All I need is for you to be quiet. Don't say a word, okay, little guy?"

I didn't actually intend to sound demeaning, but I supposed my urgency made no way for decency. The kid, who could not have been more than ten, suddenly blurted, "Who the fuck you callin' little guy, teef?"

I was taken aback at his sudden ferocity, and without thinking, I clamped a hand over his mouth. He responded by trying to bite at my palm as I dragged him further inside the ship. When he could not bite my hand, he took to licking at it. I yanked my hand away and released him, thoroughly disgusted. "Gah! You little pig! Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Drakey," he replied hotly, sticking his tongue out. "If you want some more of that, come over hea, then!" He made a rude gesture and I lunged for him. He ducked out of my grasp and ran to the other side of the ship.

"Argh! Fuck you, kid! I don't have time for this! Just shut the fuck up and listen to me!"

"Why should I listen to—"

"I need to get out of here. Please understand. Please. Help me."

Drakey took a moment to think about what I was asking of him. I saw his young face, hardened by the streets, soften in sympathy. His straight eyebrows furrowed deeply, and a pout crossed his lips. It looked before as if he was going to continue to stall, but whatever thoughts of bravery that had crossed his mind were dissolved. I looked at him pleadingly, listening at what I thought were the sounds of approaching mercenaries. When I heard the deep, rumbling roar that was Kruger's laugh, I went rigid with panic.

"Please hide me, Drakey! Quickly!"

He nodded briskly at my urgency, and motioned towards a small compartment beneath the seats of the hanger bench. "Over hea! They don't store kak in that thing. You'll fit fine." He quickly opened the container and I crawled in sideways. It occurred to me that I would be hiding beneath the place where I was first held prisoner. How bloody ironic.

Pushing my thoughts of bitterness aside, I slunk further into the darkness of the tiny container. Before he shut the container lid, I whispered a quick, "thank you, Drakey." He looked at me, and I swore I saw a tiny smile cross his lips before he hastily shut the lid and scampered across the ship. I held my breath as I heard the mercenaries thunder loudly onto the Raven. Drakey piped up with a merry greeting, clearly familiar with the rather vile men. I heard Crowe laugh and throw a jab at the boy, to which Drakey quickly and cuttingly retorted. The men settled in, and I overheard their coordinates for earth. They were headed for somewhere in India. The cockpit door shut with a click and the engines started. I listened for Kruger's voice, but did not hear it. Drakey shuffled in front of the container I was in, his voice muffled, but near me, protecting me. He was talking about how he'd like to become a full-fledged mercenary and a soldier of war. I heard a familiar, low grumble in response. Though I could not hear what he was saying, I could sense Kruger was disapproving of Drakey's choice of career.

So he's paternal, now?

How strange. To hear Kruger disapproving of a child's wants was like hearing a snake purr. It simply wasn't natural. Part of me wanted to burst out of the container and mock him for having parental instincts, however vague they were. I thought better, obviously, and stayed quiet.

"Come on, Kruga! You know I could handle it! I just need some more training and—"

"You don't git a chance to train for what you end up seeing, welpie. You already know that."

I could hear Kruger more clearly now. He must have been standing near the container next to Drakey. All of a sudden, I feared for my safety as well as the young boy's. I had no context, but it was all instinct. But aside from the possible and probable danger, I found myself wanting to know what exactly was going through Kruger's mind. Now, again, being so close to him, I felt that same draw I had felt laying with him after he saved me.

"But…" I heard Drakey sigh deeply. There was sadness in his voice, loneliness. I wanted to comfort the boy, given his kindness in helping me get back to Earth. However, the need to be hidden from the wolf pack was greater than my desire to chant 'there, there'.

"I'm taking you back to Saphrihi—"

"No! Don't take me back! I want to stay here! I'm not going back, even if you make me."

My, my, he's toying with fire.

"Drakey…" Kruger sounded exasperated. I could imagine this kid could really wear on your nerves, even if your nerves were made of steel like Kruger's. "You're not cut out for this life…" He took a moment to compose himself. "You're going home."

"Fuck you, Kruga! Fuck you!" The angry boy stormed off to the end of the Raven, kicking something that struck the bench and made a reverberating noise around my head. I jumped slightly, kicking the container myself. I froze, listening to the echo, praying Kruger and his hypersonic hearing didn't pick it up. I didn't breathe, for fear he could hear that too. Nothing happened for a minute. Kruger was silent, and so was Drakey. Only the hum of the Raven's engines persisted.

Moments trickled away like blood from a lacerated vein.

I could not take the tension.

"No! Wait! Kruga, stop!"