OLD FRIENDS

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The metal wheels of the train screeched as it careened down the subway at tremendous speed. A full squadron of soldiers crowded the compartment, adjusting their mechs. Peppered among them were the reservists, who wore grey jumpsuits and carried pulse rifles.

Within the drab black and grey squadron, there was only one mech with a splash of color. Metallic blue washed across its surface like an ocean breeze, interspersed with components that flashed silver.

"Annie!" little Will yelled, trying to get his sister's attention. He tried to part the sea of soldiers with his tiny hands, but a strong pair of arms held him back.

The soldiers streamed out of the compartment in waves, and Will watched his sister disappear into the crowd. He struggled to break free, but to no avail.

"Honey, stop—" a choked sob came from behind.

The last of the soldiers disappeared into the final compartment, and they started uncoupling the carriage from the rest of the train.

It disconnected with a clang, and Will watched the carriage disappear down the tunnel as a howling, chittering mass descended upon it.

"Open fire!"

Flashes of gunfire lit the tunnel, and Will watched as the mass of living shadow crashed into the carriage and swallowed the compartment whole.

"Annie!"

Will jerked awake, his scream still ringing in his ears. Sweat drenched his forehead as he took in labored breaths, his mind still stuck somewhere deep within the tunnels.

It was the low hum of the ventilation fan, along with the periodic beeps of a heart monitor, that broke him out of his stupor. Will blinked hazily and tried to rub the blur out of his eyes but found his arm held back by an IV line.

"Easy now," said a curt voice, and Will found a sharp-eyed nurse bent over him.

"Wha—?" Will asked groggily. He felt drained, as if he had run for miles. His muscles twitched randomly, a clear sign of post-seizure shakes. "Where am I?"

"Rockmore General Hospital," said the nurse as she checked his arm.

"How did I get here?" Will continued, his speech slurred.

"Perhaps the same way as the other patients," came the curt reply. "Hold this."

The nurse made him press a cotton ball against his bicep and instructed him to apply pressure. While the nurse fussed over him, Will took a quick look around.

He was in a general ward of some kind. Multiple beds were aligned against the walls, each separated by a green curtain. Across the aisle, nurses rushed to treat the wounded, most of whom looked like they were part of the protest.

A cough came from the adjacent ward, and Will glanced at a thin-lipped young man through the gaps in the curtain. He had multiple face tattoos, and the armband tied to his sleeve hinted at his Free-Zone affiliations.

Will frowned. Had he been picked up along with the rest of these injured protesters? What happened to Remy and Becca?

Will turned to the nurse. "Did I come here with someone? I had two friends who accompanied me."

The nurse shook her head. "I wasn’t here when you were checked in."

Will checked his pockets with his one free arm and pulled out his phone. He had five missed calls from Remy and plenty of messages. The push notification showed the latest message:

Watch out. The cops are here.

Will felt a chill. The cops were here? What the hell did that mean?

"Open your arm," the nurse said, breaking Will out of his reverie. She removed the cotton ball and placed a fresh band-aid over his bicep. Will let the nurse work while he checked his messages.

After a quick scan, Will quickly grasped the situation. It was Remy who had dropped him off at the hospital. Becca and the Doctor were doing fine. Remy intended to break Will out of the hospital immediately after he got his medication, but the sudden increase in police presence had him spooked. The cops were suddenly very interested in anyone being admitted to the hospital.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Will frowned, deep in thought, when the phone buzzed again. It was Remy.

Two old friends from Fort Thornfield are here.

Attached to the message was a picture of two men. The older one wore a leather duster, while the other wore a suit and tie. Will felt his breath catch as he spotted the pockmarked face of Detective Morrison.

He nearly cursed out loud. He needed this like a bullet to the head. This was the worst time to play another round of twenty questions with the unpleasant detective. In the state he was in, the sharp detective would be sure to pin something on him, and Will didn’t want to find out what. He’d better make it out of here before the cops found him. Will made to stand up but suddenly felt very woozy.

"What the—" Will slumped back into the bed, his head spinning.

"Don't move about too much," the nurse advised. "You just suffered a low-level seizure and were administered Phenobital. It's a mild sedative."

"Doesn't that one make you... sleepy?" asked Will.

"Yes, so lie down," said the nurse as she examined a vial of blood.

Will stared at the blood vial through hazy lids and then glanced at his freshly bandaged arm. His jumbled mind put two and two together as the nurse slotted the vial into a diagnostic machine, and the monitor flashed a single word—

Analyzing...

Wide-eyed, Will stared at the screen. "Oh crap..."

His blood went cold as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had just finished a battle that had pushed him to the limit. Signature alignment was the least of his worries. There would definitely be markers left in his system that would lead to some very awkward questions, which might even lead to the conclusion that he was sharded.

His eyes darted back to the messages on his phone and the picture of the two cops headed his way. This isn't good. In fact, this was colossally, monumentally bad.

The heart monitor sent a warning as Will’s heart rate spiked. The surprised nurse paused mid-work, alarmed, and looked at Will. "Is something wrong?"

Will shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

"You are going to be okay." The nurse patted his shoulder reassuringly. "We're here. You have nothing to worry about."

Sweat beaded on Will's brow as the nurse returned her attention to the diagnostic machine. The clock was ticking. He had to leave before the cops showed up and somehow stop the nurse from completing the analysis of his blood sample.

His mind worked furiously as he stared at the machine. There had to be some way to disable it. He could try going after its power supply, but the machine was fixed flush to the wall, and its power cable was hidden. Another option was to jostle the machine to stop the scan, but there was no way of doing that with the nurse around.

Will considered the nurse. She was the real problem. If he could find a way to distract her by playing sick, and then... what? Nothing would change. She would just examine him, conclude that he was fine, and continue with the diagnosis.

Will gritted his teeth. He was going in circles. None of these ideas would work. His phone buzzed again, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he found that Remy had messaged him again.

I think they are headed your way.

Attached to the message was a photo of the two cops walking briskly, making their way through the hospital.

"Shit..." Will cursed under his breath. He had only a few more minutes before his whole world came crumbling down. A hacking cough came from the right, and Will glanced at the thin-lipped youth with the face tattoos. On impulse, he signaled to the guy and mimicked his mannerisms. Will slouched his shoulders and brought a glazed look to his eyes.

The young man turned to Will and raised an eyebrow. "Skol?"

Will quickly typed out a message on his phone and tossed it to his ward mate. He caught the phone and read the message:

I've been licking snow all morning and I'm baked as shit. Now this Tower hun is running tests. Distract her for me, slim. Help a blood out.

The young man finished reading the message and considered Will for a bit. After a few seconds, he nodded and tossed the phone back to Will, who breathed a sigh of relief.

The guy proceeded to shake out his shoulders dramatically before clutching his heart and coughing violently. The act was so believable that even Will was surprised.

"What?" the nurse exclaimed. She dropped what she was doing and rushed to the adjacent ward.

As soon as she disappeared behind the curtains, Will sprang to his feet. He switched off the heart monitor and ripped off the electrodes and IV attached to him. After a quick look around, he made his way to the curtains and carefully closed his cubicle off from the general ward.

Now away from prying eyes, Will approached the diagnoser. The machine was still ticking away, analyzing his blood sample, and Will felt around its boxy exterior for the access port. With a bit of fiddling, he connected the machine to his slate and started hacking it.

It took a few seconds for Will to load the program, and he nervously glanced at the adjacent ward. The violent coughing from the other side continued, and he heard the nurse trying to coax his ward mate.

A soft beep came from the slate, and Will gained access to the machine. He quickly dove into the code and found the save file location. He picked a random file and started replacing it with his.

Each file was named with an alphanumeric string, followed by the patient's name, cubicle number, and the date of admission. He renamed the file accordingly and started to assign the proper authentication tokens. He tapped furiously on his slate while keeping a close eye on his neighbor. The coughing was petering out, and there was the sound of shuffling footsteps.

Just as he was about to finish replacing his file, his phone buzzed again. Remy had dropped another message:

They reached the general ward.

A blurry photo of the two cops was attached to the message, and before he could even process what he had read, the ward door slammed open. Will cursed as he went back to work.

Sweat dripped off his forehead as he finished replacing the file. He opened the diagnostic results on the monitor before jumping into bed, but no sooner had his head hit the pillow than he remembered the vial of blood still left in the diagnoser. Cursing, Will rushed back to the machine.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the room, getting closer by the second.

Will grabbed the vial out of the machine and dumped it into the bio-waste basket in the corner. He then quickly jumped back into bed, his heart hammering away in his chest.

The footsteps thudded in tune with his racing heartbeat, and Will waited with bated breath as the heavy-set boots approached his cubicle and finally stopped right outside his curtained ward.

They were here for him.

"Shit!" Will cursed.