Contents: One (1) Pickle
Jeremiah looked down at the clear plastic pouch the measly pale green treat came in. “No shit.”
Bringing the notoriously difficult plastic package to her teeth, Jeremiah began to gnaw on the “tear here” tag that often overestimated any perforations present. Jeremiah’s struggle took place in a stark white cafeteria filled with other engineers and maintenance workers that found themselves working on this particular orbit station; Bifrost. Bifrost was aptly named, being the largest orbiting station between Earth and the rest of the system, doubly apt for being a mandatory stop for any ships attempting to get a navigation pass onto the blue planet itself. But all of that didn’t mean much to Jeremiah at the moment, her fight with the packet turning sour.
She smacked her lips, the vinegar leaking through the chew marks in the unnecessarily thick plastic. Lines of stress were visible under green eyes that, alongside the blonde bedhead she was sporting in the middle of the day, spoke wonders of her current mental constitution.
“Fuck this...” She muttered, pulling back the orange sleeve of her jumpsuit to reveal her engineer’s device secured around her forearm. Tapping the screen a few times, a multitool came popping out, one she quickly flipped through until she got to a knife edge. She could feel the eyes of a few of the other eaters turning to her as she angrily sawed at the pickle pouch, but at this point she had a score to settle.
“Ha!” She spurted as the pickle was ripped from its package, quickly flinching at the volume of her own voice. The salty cucumber rolled across her plate where a subpar sandwich once sat. Flinching again, a gentle chirp started to sound overhead and while it was a soft tone - it meant lunch was over. Frowning, Jeremiah looked pointedly at the pickle, “Alright but you’re coming with me.”
-0-
“So what we’re going to need you to do is- is that a pickle?” The foreman furrowed his brow. Jeremiah stood innocently across from him, chewing on a hearty bite. In between the two was an open wall port revealing a mess of wires and computer systems. Together they stood in a wide hallway of the residential wing of All Starr Engineering Co.’s Bifrost headquarters; the very same company Jeremiah worked for. Attempting to break eye contact with the balding man, Jeremiah quickly shoved the rest of her lunch into her mouth and swallowed after a few haphazard chews and a rough cough.
“Sorry, you were saying?” Jeremiah said past another hoarse cough. The foreman frowned.
“We are updating some of the hardware - you see these wires?” He gestured to a mess of wires that seemed to crisscross into an enclosed capsule attached to a diagnostic computer.
“Yes.” Jeremiah nodded after a bit of studying.
“I need you to replace them with these,” The foreman nudged his iron tipped boot at a plastic box. “A lot of our software was recently updated and we need the hardware to match -- keep everything running smooth and commands moving quicker than ever before - got it?”
“Grunt work,” Jeremiah flashed a reassuring smile.
“Oh I’m sure,” The foreman didn’t smile back. He seemed to linger a moment before asking, “I’m sorry but what was your name again?”
“Wasn’t it on the recruitment form?”
“It was but -- well if you could humor me?”
“Jeremiah... Jeremiah Strong,” She answered. The foreman seemed to want to ask another question, bushy brow more furrowed than ever. He lingered again before shaking his head.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you... Jeremiah.”
“Likewise... uh?”
“Gary.”
“Nice to meet you, Gary.” Jeremiah looked away from the foreman, a deep awkwardness forming. “Well I best be getting these wires in.”
“Of course, just comm me if you need anything.” Gary stood up straight before turning on a heel, not bothering to look back. Jeremiah shook her head, all too aware of the questions in the man’s mind. Putting them out of her own, she turned to her work and sighed -- it was money, and she needed it.
Crackle! Pops of electricity shot up at Jeremiah as she handled one of the wires, forcing her to whip her hands away. “Fuck!” She made a face, “Bastard didn’t cut the power.” Tucking a slant into her cheek, she quickly hooked her engineer’s tool to one of the diagnostic computer’s ports. A tiny melody chimed indicating a successful link and she got to work tapping on a small screen present on the tool, until finally she found the command for a local shut down. She looked to her left and then to her right, eyes flickering at the small toplights mounted above the residential doors -- all clearly off. Jeremiah awarded herself with a proud nod before shuffling back to work.
She started off strong, quickly unmounting a lot of the wires and remounting the new ones. When it came to stripping and splicing some of the loose ends back into their breakers, that’s when she started to slow down a little. Her precise fingers started to shake, the rings under her eyes darkening. Her once lively grin was replaced with an anxious scowl. The tremor in her fingers started to creep down her arms, until she couldn’t help but notice her own breathing, each pull and exhale annoying her. Her arms tensed up and her wire cutter slipped off its mark and tore into her work gloves, leaving a tear and a tiny trickle of blood. “Oh f-fuck off!” She growled, sucking on the fresh cut.
Taking a step back from her work, her eyes bounced around the hallway until they found a metal door that likely closed off some sort of maintenance storage. Quickly -- yet loosely -- she replaced the white panel that covered the wires she was working on and shuffled over to the door. She tapped on the door pad; it didn’t light up. She let out a prolonged groan, remembering she had cut the power in the area. Using the safety latch on the bottom of the door pad, she found the manual override and used her engineer’s tool in place of a proper key. After a clank, she pushed the sliding door aside and took a step in before closing it behind her.
It was too dark to really see anything in the glorified closet she found herself in, but the dense stink of chemicals made it obvious it was definitely an area meant for janitor supplies. Tapping her engineer’s tool, she used the screen to broadcast a dull light. Finding a spot on the ground to sit, she crossed her legs and hunched forward defensively, back to the door. Her finger slipped under the bracelet of the tool and she tugged a tiny plastic packet out from its hiding spot. The top had a resealable seam that was quick to pop open despite her shaking fingers. Gingerly, she tapped the open pouch against her other palm and a tiny white pill with a distinct blue stripe down the middle fell into it. Jeremiah quickly sealed the pouch back up and put it away before popping the pill into her mouth, swallowing it dryly. A nasty yet all too familiar bitter taste mucked on the back of her tongue, causing her to smack it against the roof of her mouth a few times.
Finally the pill made its way down and hit her stomach like a stone. She gripped her knees tight, knowing all too well what came next. A bubble rose in her stomach, back tensing up at the pressure that rose with it. The bubble gurgled and immediately she felt a sickly warm nausea slither up her throat, mouth salivating and acidic. She burped, knowing trying to swallow the sickly feeling wouldn’t do any good. She opened her mouth to gag, but instead she lurched forward, dry heaving. Scrambling to her knees she placed her palms on the cold floor, her back arching as an attack of coughs and retches burned up her lungs. Threatening to pop out of her skull, she crammed her eyes shut and hot tears began to drip.
The room began to spiral as she gagged out every last bit of air her lungs had, her body trying to expel everything while having nothing. Her skin stabbed and stung like if she was on fire, and she started to choke on her barren coughs. She collapsed belly first to the floor, body jerking with each expulsion. Her eyes were starting to color with fear and she felt her life being strangled away in the fit of gags. Jeremiah’s heart pounded and squirmed while horrible thoughts screaming against her ears, the only other sensations being her wet tears and burning body.
Giving into defeat, her body grew limp for a moment - but only for a moment - soon her body began to squirm, jerking to the left and then to the right until she was spasming on the floor in a full seizure. She convulsed violently for what seemed like forever, her conscious fading in and out as she attempted to capture even the littlest bit of air to fill her inflamed lungs, face growing blue. Then, suddenly, it all stopped.
She laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her chest softly rising and falling and her face stained red with tears. The pain was gone, the guilt, anger, and sadness was gone, everything was gone -- she felt nothing. A wide white smile broke across her face, the dark circles nowhere to be seen under her glistening green eyes, dilated with ecstasy. She felt nothing, nothing but bliss. A giggle broke the silence and a gentle tickle rode along her spine. Her muscles pulsed with energy, burning with the desire to move and so she twitched and kicked herself onto her feet, standing tall.
As blood rushed from her head she felt the cool embrace of the drug wash over her body, dousing the flames of earlier with a blanket of pure pleasure. Even the bruises from her seizure now pounded her nerves with delight rather than pain. She wasn’t sure how long she stood in that spot just enjoying the sensations as she rocked from one foot to the other, but she knew she had until that evening before she would need another pill of bliss. A loud groan of frustration snapped her eyes towards the door; someone was out there.
“Are work hours done already?” She whispered under her breath, a stab of guilt hitting her stomach, not knowing how long she spent in the closet. The guilt was quickly overpowered by the bliss, though, and with that sense of bravery, she walked back out into to the hall.
Jeremiah quickly spotted the source of the groans. A woman a little older than herself was elbow deep into the wall, the cold white panel of metal cast aside as she fooled around with loose wires and a large circuit.
“Can I help you?” Jeremiah beamed a smile perhaps a little too big. The light haired woman turned to Jeremiah with a frustrated look about her face, but also something more, something about that look told Jeremiah that there was more to the story than that. She knew that look from somewhere.
The woman yanked her hands from the hole in the wall, a gold band glistening off her left hand. The piece of jewelry seemed to catch Jeremiah’s attention, her smile nearly falling at the sight. The woman wearing it huffed a sigh and nodded, forcing her lips into a red line. “My door won’t open, it just fizzes, and I tried to… ugh.. I don’t know… my shift is over and I just.”
Jeremiah put on a confident face, trying to hide the fact that this was entirely her fault behind sparkling eyes. “Well, lucky for you, I was sent to actually fix this whole mess... do you mind if I?”
The woman shrugged and gestured to the panel. “All yours.”
Jeremiah squinted as she reached into the hole while the woman watched with folded arms. The engineer immediately noticed that the woman’s tinkering caused more harm than good, but she kept that to herself and moved to finish the wire she was working on earlier -- one of the last in the set. While moving her fingers across the wires was painstaking earlier, now with the help of bliss, it was almost a minigame to her, where the prize was a continuous spark of pleasure.
Still, the silence between Jeremiah and her onlooker was a little awkward and so she looked over to the woman, confident in her ability to work such a menial task without peeking. Jeremiah gave her a friendly smile, eyes flickering back to the wires just for a moment. “I’m Jeremiah by the way, engineer.”
“Hannah, basic,” the woman said in an almost dull fashion before suddenly making a face. Jeremiah could only assume that she was as dubious about her name as Gary was, but decided to look past it.
Jeremiah forced a laugh, which turned into a real one rather quick. The vibrations of the laugh sent electric charges of ecstasy across her limbs and ribs, forcing a small shiver she hoped Hannah wouldn’t notice. Happily humming now, Jeremiah moved onto another wire and back to the conversation. “Don’t sound too excited.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just, I mean it’s called basic, how exciting can that really be,” Hannah gave a cynical grin that hid some frustration.
Jeremiah shrugged as she continued, “Make it as exciting as you want. The way I see it: basics and engineers are replaceable, Hannah's and Jeremiah’s on the other hand… well the world can only take so much, am I right?”
Hannah gave a tiny laugh and unfolded her arms, “I suppose you are right.”
Jeremiah nodded while biting her lip, snaking the link between her engineer’s tool back into the diagnostic computer. After a flash of electricity there was a small whir in the walls. She smiled at her work and started to screw the wall panel back. Looking back at Hannah, Jeremiah could see that the frustration had left the woman's face and a look of contentment seemed to wash over her. Jeremiah smiled, “Well that’s that.”
Hannah smiled back, “Seems to be!”
Hannah didn’t move from her spot, causing Jeremiah to look away from the panel she was screwing in. Hannah closed her eyes and seemed to force her next words, speaking slowly and carefully. “This may seem strange or even forward, but do you have any kids?”
“You’re right that is pretty strange,” Jeremiah bit her tongue for spurting that without thinking. Hannah recoiled and held up her palms.
“Well, no, see... I recently moved to the station and I have a daughter who is- well she has no friends, hell neither do I and I thought-”
“Oh,” Jeremiah looked away, “I understand, sorry though - no kids here.” Hannah looked withdrawn and embarrassed. Jeremiah easily found her smile and quickly added, “But hey if you need a friend, I’m new here too.”
The shame drained from Hannah’s eyes and she smiled back, “Great! Well I don’t know if it’s far for you but my family and I are actually going to have a little game night tonight if you wanted to stop by for a little and get some socializing in.”
“Not far, I’m actually in 218,” Jeremiah nodded with a spark of excitement, unsure if it was the bliss or if her desperation really dug that deep -- she couldn’t remember the last time she could call someone a friend.
“Oh! That’s right down the hall,” Hannah clapped her hands together, “Then how about you come by around seven? We’re having a late dinner but I’ll feed ya!”
Jeremiah did quick math in her head, timing her current dose to her next. “Yeah I can do that -- I’ll see you then!”
“Great!” Hannah tapped the door pad and with a whoosh the door opened, “Can’t wait!” She added before stepping through. The door slid closed and left Jeremiah in the hall alone. The engineer tucked a slant into her cheek but it quickly turned into a smile. She shook her head and started on her way back to her own residence.
“What a strange encounter,” She giggled to herself; things were finally looking up.
-0-
“Go fish? Are you sure? I swear you said something about a queen earlier,” Jeremiah teased. She drew a playing card from the deck that sat in the middle of Hannah’s table, used plates stacked off to the side along with empty cups. Hannah was lucky enough to have a family housing suite, one that was meticulously decorated with mismatched mementos that Hannah’s husband, Phil, had collected over the years. He joined Jeremiah and Hannah in the game, alongside his and Hannah’s little daughter, Kendra.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Kendra giggled as she jutted a finger into Jeremiah’s side. “Do you have any quuuuueeeens?”
Jeremiah jumped, her voice light and playful. “Aha! So you do have queens!”
Kendra screwed her face up. “Nu-uh! I just got it.” She whined.
Jeremiah cocked her head. “Are you sure you just got it?”
“Kendra baby, are you trying to fool Miss. Strong?” Hannah asked with maternal precedence.
Kendra folded her arms. “But she was winning!”
Jeremiah looked at her measly pile of captured cards and then at Kendra’s mound. “I don’t think I am.” She laughed and Kendra looked up at her with pleading eyes.
“Really?”
“Yeah! Look at all your cards!” Jeremiah motioned at the stack. Kendra, who was a little confused on how the game worked, let out a simple “oh.” before growing a massive grin.
“I’m winning!” She announced aggressively, slowly turning the statement into a chant. Phil looked past his rocks glass and laughed.
“Don’t encourage her, Jeremiah, she has enough ego as it is!”
“Best to shore up confidence when you’re young,” Jeremiah smiled at Kendra, the young spirit reminding her of someone else. A seed of sorrow bent Jeremiah’s grin crooked, and she was forced to look away. She caught Phil’s eyes instead, glassy and bloodshot. Jeremiah knew that look.
“Okay I have to ask,” Phil suddenly put his glass down, “Jeremiah? The name, I mean.”
“Phil!” Hannah reprimanded but was waved off.
“It’s an innocent question.”
Jeremiah’s brow fell into a scowl - one she quickly covered up with a polite grin, “Parents wanted a son, I suppose.”
Phil took a long sip at his drink, a pondering look on his face as if he was calculating if that was a satisfying enough answer, though Jeremiah already knew it wasn’t. Hannah quickly intervened with a question of her own, “Did anyone want a snack? Phil?” She looked over at her husband who was nursing his drink right under his nose.
“I’m okay,” He said before standing up, which was a struggle due to a metal brace that secured his left leg. “Did anyone want something to drink?” He asked idly as he shuffled towards a locked cabinet.
“Oh I’m okay,” Jeremiah declined, “I don’t drink.”
“Religious?” Phil asked.
“Phil!” Hannah hissed.
“No, just -” Jeremiah could feel a frustration of her own swelling in her stomach, fingers twitching, “No, just personal preference.”
“Suit yours-” Phil turned back to the table with a refilled glass. He stopped and cocked his head, “Jeremiah are you alright? You have rings around your eyes.”
A stone fell in Jeremiah’s stomach, realizing more time must have passed than expected. She squirmed uneasily. “l-long day I suppose, I should go get some rest.” She stood up out of her chair a little faster than she should have, and sure enough her head was hit with a sudden dizziness.
“So suddenly?” Hannah asked, a sense of disappointment in her voice.
Kendra pouted and tugged on Jeremiah’s pants. “You can’t go, we aren’t done playing yet.”
Jeremiah frowned sadly. “I’m sorry, next time.” Kendra’s pout got bigger and Jeremiah felt the stone in her stomach fester. She started to make her way to the door. Phil perked a brow at the sluggish way she was moving.
“Do you need any coffee or anything?”
“N-no,” Jeremiah stuttered as a wash of cold enveloped her, causing her voice to shiver. “Just rest, big day tomorrow you know. Take it easy guys!”
Before anyone could object further, Jeremiah had slipped through the door and was quickly walking down the hall. Aches and pains began to pulse in her muscles as she walked, rather than the joyful vibrations of the bliss - and a deep hollow screamed in her chest. She felt cold, further oppressed by the feelings that were barricaded away squirming their way back to the fore of her mind. She shivered and sped up her pace.
As soon as the door to her one room apartment whooshed open, she was digging into her engineer’s tool for her daily stash. The door closed behind her as she ripped open the packet, procuring the final dose of the day. She stared at it as it balanced on her shaky palm before slapping it into her mouth.
She felt it hit her stomach and almost instantly she fell to the ground, knees giving out completely. Her throat swelled and before long her mouth was bone dry and gasping. The gasps turned into violent dry heaves and she slammed a fist onto the floor with a crack, trying to swallow the pain of the outburst. Next came the convulsions, violent and quaking -- her body a ragdoll under the will of the drug. Then the attack stopped, and all she felt was a warm wash flow over her body like a tropical ocean. Her mind laughed and her heart jumped back into action, muscles burned and flexed, and a large white smile stretched over her face.
Energy snapped into her limbs and she nodded eagerly to herself, slipping a new pouch of pills under her tool. “I need to go somewhere.”
-0-
That somewhere happened to be the cafeteria, but it was already closed for the evening so instead Jeremiah took the long way home - each step threatening to break into a run. She couldn’t help it, each step felt amazing -- her legs felt as if they could launch her across space itself, and with the effects bliss had on the muscles, maybe she could. She felt great and decided not to even try to hide the goofy smile she felt curling on her face. Only when she spotted Kendra out in the hall did it turn crooked.
“Miss Strong?” Kendra piped up. Jeremiah studied the small figure, who was already dressed in a goofy set of pajamas stitched with cartoon characters.
“Little early for bed, don’t you think?” The woman asked, brow furrowing.
Kendra seemed to shuffle in her space and whined. “Mom made me, she always does when Dad is grumpy.”
Jeremiah stood up straight, “is everything okay?”
Kendra looked up at her, and taking in her suddenly serious expression, she jutted out her bottom lip, wobbling it. She looked just as confused as the engineer, choosing to silently cry rather than answer.
The woman pushed a hand through her hair, and furrowed her brow. Any questions about getting involved were quickly crumpled and dismissed in the back of her mind. A single memory seemed to scream at her, and on an impulse, her heart jumped. Jeremiah knew this was a bad idea, maybe -- her thoughts were too jumbled to really approach it all. Holding her worried expression, she looked down at the whimpering child.
Jeremiah lifted Kendra onto her hip and walked into her room, placing the kid down on a spare chair. She pointed a finger at her. “Stay right here, alright?”
Looking over at the closet door, she swore she saw the gun she knew was there glisten underneath a folded shirt. She shook her head and urgently walked out of the room. Practically running down the hall, Jeremiah leapt in front of Hannah’s door and tapped it open.
The door slid with a whoosh and Jeremiah squinted to see in the dim light, her steroidal vision quickly adjusting. There was a gulp and she looked over to where they played cards. A dark figure sat on the chair alone, swallowing tears and choking on sobs.
“Hannah?” Jeremiah asked, taking a few steps forward. She quickly looked away as Hannah came into focus, her blackened nose bleeding. A dark angry pit plopped into Jeremiah’s stomach and she spoke again, “Hannah…”
“Jeremiah p-please go.” Hannah gurgled.
“And who the fuck is bothering me now!” A baritone roar boomed from the other room, forcing Hannah to wince and shrink into her chair. She brought her knees up to her chest. Jeremiah took a few steps forward. Pain ripped down Jeremiah’s face as a sudden clunk smashed across her forehead. Glass broke as the bottle that was thrown at her shattered on the ground.
Bliss quickly covered up the concussive pain, but the damage was done. Jeremiah blinked her blurry eyes and realized that the bottle had been thrown at herself. Instinct kicked in and a rage swelled as a stumbling figure backgrounded by a dim light came into view, arms waving angrily.
Without much thought, Jeremiah burst by the table, flipping a chair on the way. She wasn’t sure if she was helping at this point, but a thick cloud of anger and drug-fueled irritation choked her reason. She ducked under a thrown fist and rose to slam her forehead down across Phil’s face.
Blood popped from both opponents, but only Jeremiah remained standing. The engineer pulled back and thrusted a foot forward, cleaving a heavy boot into the man’s rib with a faint crack. Phil turned over and started coughing hoarsely.
Jeremiah shook her head and turned to leave but quickly turned back and kicked the man once more but in the back, equally as hard. The man yelped and coughed roughly and Jeremiah kicked him again.
The engineer turned to Hannah and saw that her tear stained face was wide in surprise, and hate. Jeremiah knew that look, and a sick pool of guilt rippled through her body. She shouldn’t have come, she shouldn’t have done any of this. None of this was her place, she should have just called the authorities. Jeremiah slowly backed up, the hate filled eyes following her as she did.
-0-
“Jeremiah Strong,” The man in the white uniform said dubiously. It was well into the night now, though it didn’t take too long for Hannah to contact the authorities, or maybe it was Phil. Whoever it was, Jeremiah didn’t make it back to her room before she was arrested by security and placed in a meeting room that the residential bloc used as a makeshift holding cell. It was just her, a guard by the door, and the man sitting across from her.
The man shook his head, “Why?” He seemed to scoff, “You barely knew these people, and even if you did -- you should have just called security.” He spoke the truth.
“I know,” Jeremiah didn’t bother to look the man in the eye, though a piece of her knew why she would have hesitated to call security even if she had thought of it. Silence reigned, and Jeremiah was sure that reason was coming up soon.
“You’re new here, right?” The man folded his hands on the table.
“My second day,” Jeremiah admitted cautiously.
“Who hired you?”
Jeremiah froze, “Rauld Forenzo.”
“No he didn’t.” The man pursed his lips into a line. “Because I’m Rauld Forenzo, and I’ve never seen you before in my life.”
Jeremiah fell silent, shrinking in her seat. Rauld leaned forward, “I took the liberty of having your living quarters searched.” He paused, as if waiting for a reaction -- but all he got was a stiff stare from Jeremiah. “We found a bag of illegal drugs hidden in a computer compartment as well as an unregistered firearm.” He rolled his jaw, “If that wasn’t bad enough, we also can’t seem to find any substantial information on who exactly you are, Jeremiah Strong, just primary identification documents that are barebones at best. I have no idea how you managed to worm your way into this company, or this station -- or why -- but your stange drug fueled romp ends here.” Rauld stood up. “The police are on their way.”
Going to stand up after him, Jeremiah was tugged back to her seat by the handcuffs that anchored her to the table. Rauld pursed his lips and looked down at Jeremiah, making a disgusted face before leaving the room. Jeremiah craned her neck to look at the guard behind her, the man standing straight - with a stoic look upon his face. Jeremiah flashed a weak smile and held up her anchored hands, “Is this really necessary?”
The man didn’t respond and Jeremiah slunk back into her chair. She ran her tongue along the back of her teeth as she thought, staring at the peg that anchored the handcuffs. Her muscles twitched, still swollen with the drug. The table was originally meant for meetings, not holding prisoners and as such, the metal peg was the only thing metal about the wooden table. Sucking in a deep breath, Jeremiah counted down slowly in her head.
“Two!” She shouted and the guard furrowed a brow.
“What?”
Wood groaned and snapped as Jeremiah tore the peg out of the table with much more strength than should have been physically available to her. Spinning, Jeremiah used the handcuffs and attached peg as a flail, cracking the guard across the temple and (hopefully) knocking him out cold. Jeremiah didn’t bother checking his vitals as she turned him over looking for a key. When she found none, she groaned loudly, snagged his employee card, and burst into the next room.
She spilled into a long corridor and immediately turned in the direction she was marched in from. Her eyes widened, Roald was talking to an older man dressed up as an officer of the law, but Jeremiah knew from experience that he wasn’t police. The grey haired man reciprocated her surprised look as they locked eyes - a cold glare present in the pale blue stare.
“That’s her, that’s her!” He shouted while waving a pointing finger frantically. The security detail nearby spun towards Jeremiah and began to rush her down. Spinning in the opposite direction, Jeremiah booked it down the corridor. Gritting her teeth, swears slipped under her breath, wishing all too much that she had her gun.
Doors and tacky decorations whipped by Jeremiah’s vision as she pumped her legs - the sounds of the security personnel still thumping and shouting behind her. She swung around a corner, juked a shocked and nameless employee, and continued her run. Next she knew, she was ripping a motivational “you can do it” poster off the wall and heading straight for a flight of stairs to the foyer below. Tossing the rectangle piece in front of her, she jumped on it - surfing the makeshift vehicle down the stairs without much thought on how to stop.
An arm slammed into her chest as she approached the bottom. The owner of the arm, a police officer, violently dragged her to the ground. The back of her head bounced off the floor and through her blurred vision she could see more officers rushing over. Making a split second decision, Jeremiah brought a knee up sharply. Her blow crashed into the officer’s gut, knocking the air out of him. Kicking the crippled man off of her -- she ripped his gun from its holster. Immediately the other officers pulled theirs. Their run slowed as they trained their sights but Jeremiah was already on the move again.
She pushed through the rotating door that marked the exit to the foyer and was immediately hit with the chillier atmosphere of the outside. Dark city pavement cut through tall buildings decorated with glowing signs -- the tallest of which nearly made it to the ceiling of the energy dome far above. The noise of the city drowned out the thumps of her heart as she scanned her surroundings. Her eyes immediately fell on a man parking his hoverbike. Shaking her head at what she was about to do, she continued her sprint.
Police were shouting behind her as she tackled the man off his bike and kicked a leg around it, slamming the gear back off park and punching the throttle. Her handcuffed hands made it difficult to steer, and so she favored only the throttle handle, gun hovering over it. She geared up and geared up -- the sound of sirens blaring behind her. The lights of the city turned to streaks of sharp reds and pinks on gravel grey. She did her best to weave through traffic, not slowing down for anything. Jeremiah knew she couldn’t keep this up though, and had to come up with a more permanent solution.
Just as she thought that, her eyes recognized a bright green sign coming up -- the docks. Whipping the bike as best she could, she turned off the main roadway and onto the road that led to the docking complex. The turn slowed her down considerably with one hand, and a siren blared next to her. Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she met eyes with a cop on their own bike.
“Stop your vehicle!” The officer shouted.
“Next time, lil busy!” Jeremiah shouted back and tugged her bike onto another dangerously sharp turn. The maneuver sent Jeremiah off road and into the steel skeleton of a building in progress. Desperately wishing she had use of both her hands, Jeremiah squinted with focus as she snaked through the different rooms, the officer hot on her tail.
Taking a chance, Jeremiah wobbled the hoverbike into another turn -- the pulse of the vehicle kicking up a blast of dust as she drifted through what would someday be the frame for a floor to ceiling window and onto the scaffolding ramps outside. Kicking the bike back into action, she shot up the ramps, a deep anxiety rising as the ground grew further away.
Her bike growled at the climb, but upon seeing the roof of the docking complex below, she knew what she had to do. Swallowing her anxiety, Jeremiah kicked her bike into full power and gunned it right for the edge. She slammed her eyes shut as soon as she felt the air cradle around her, nothing secure below. Screaming, her eyes opened to realize she overshot the building and was heading right for the docking platforms where the ships themselves sat. Her scream was whipped behind her by the wind, so all she could hear was the rush of it all.
The back emitter of the bike roared angrily as it crashed into the pavement, the front emission keeping the bike miraculously stable as it continued it’s full powered rush forward. Sparks flew behind Jeremiah, the rear of the bike dragging against the ground while the front pushed it forward. All around her docking employees were shouting and security was flooding in, but Jeremiah’s sole focus was the small freighter straight ahead. Its engines were already blaring, the airlock just starting to close. Jeremiah aimed for her only hope and braced herself.
The metal rim of the bike bucked as it clipped the bottom of the airlock and Jeremiah went flying off of the vehicle. Her body whipped into the chamber, flying past a surprised looking man and right into the wall. She knew that was going to hurt when the drugs wore off, but for now, she rolled back into action, shoulder crackling as she did.
“What the fu-” The man started, but Jeremiah was already tampering with the airlock pad. The exterior door slammed closed. Jeremiah didn’t wait for the interior door to open all the way before slipping into this man’s ship. He reached out after her, but she pointed the gun at him -- his hands flying in the air as she sprinted through the small ship’s corridors and into the cockpit. There she kept her gun trained on the man, pounding sounding outside the ship.
“Guessing you already had clearance.” Jeremiah danced her fingers over the captain’s board, engineer’s tool linked into the console. The man didn’t respond, his eyes locked on her gun. Jeremiah didn’t need his validation and took the chance regardless. A light flickered on the board and Jeremiah punched it - the ship blasting off - emergency lights blaring as it did.
The sharp jerk knocked both Jeremiah and the man over. Her head slammed into the steel wall of the ship, causing her body to tense. The last thing she heard was the smack of her head against the wall and her gun going off. Blackness.