The nylon blanket crinkled in his ears with every breath and slight movement. Connor stared at the ceiling of his cell, angry at himself for letting this happen in the first place. He should have kept running. Next time he wouldn’t trust anyone — if there was a next time. He assumed it was only a matter of time until he was turned back over to Kemprex. Maybe one of the cops would appear outside his cell, pistol drawn, a dead look in his eyes…
Connor shook the dour thoughts from his head. Instead of focusing on what might be he should be planning his escape.
And have more cops searching for me. Great idea.
Connor coiled the freshly grown tendrils in his arms. He was not going back to that lab alive.
The sound of a door slamming shut and boots on concrete from beyond the cell woke him from the moribund feedback loop playing over and over in his head. Connor looked over to the iron bars of his pre-war cell. Kyle the deputy sheriff stood in the corridor with a tablet in hand, his face directed at its LCD glow.
“Strange file you’ve got, from what I’ve been able to access. Took a few calls but I got some of it cleared. You ran away from the C.D.C?” he asked with mock incredulity.
“I was afraid they were going to conduct all sorts of illegal experiments on me. Turns out I was right,” replied Connor.
“Yeah… Yeah… I’m only a little impressed. Not many people would have the balls to jump from a moving ambulance and then a bridge. Stupid but ballsy,” said Kyle tucking the tablet under his arm. “We’ve got someone on their way now to take you back. Just got a call about a minute ago.”
Connor sat up. “Who? Kemprex?”
“A Homeland Security Anti-Terrorist team,” replied Kyle. “At least I think it was Anti-Terrorism. The Home Sec boys oversee so much these days, it’s hard to keep up. The girl on the phone just said, ‘Homeland Security’. I’m pretty sure you Seeded fall under the terrorist wheelhouse. Some do any way…”
“I’m not a fucking terrorist,” said Connor getting to his feet. “I’ve been held hostage for five fucking years! I’ve been cut open and dissected a million different ways. You’ve got to believe me!” he pleaded as he approached the cell bars.
“Stand back, you freak,” said Kyle, placing a hand on his sidearm. “The girl said you was on ice before you escaped. She said you might be experiencing strange memories.”
“On ice for five years? Does that sound normal?”
“I don’t care…” said Kyle.
Connor felt his temper spike. He was tired of being spoken down to. “I know what happened to me,” he said pointing a finger at the other man. “I will not go back with those monsters.”
Kyle rolled his eyes and turned to leave. “Whatever…”
Connor snapped. He lunged at the deputy, firing the coiled tendrils from his extended wrists. The crimson lengths caught Kyle around the neck and squeezed tight. Connor gripped the tendrils in his hands and pulled, slamming the choking man into the metal bars with enough force to knock him out. With one hand holding him upright, Connor reached for the set of RF keys attached to the deputy’s belt. He retracted his tendrils and let Kyle slump onto the hard floor. Through the small cell window, he heard a large carrier gyro fly close, its high-pitched jets cycling high as it shed its speed and hovered in place.
“This can’t be good.”
The access panel to the locks sat on the opposite wall, far away from where a normal inmate could reach. Connor transferred the keys to a tendril and extended, brushing the bunch of remote keys against the scanner. The pad glowed green and his cell door clicked open. He retracted the tendril, stowing the stolen keys in his pocket. Kyle began to stir as he stepped out of the cell. Connor bent over and fished the deputy’s gun from its holster. Kyle groaned and attempted to stand up. Connor stepped back to a safer distance, pointing the gun.
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“You’ve just bought yourself a world of pain,” croaked Kyle.
“You hear that?” asked Connor in reply.
Kyle winced and cocked his head.
“That jet is here for me. I know it,” said Connor. “They’ve come to take me back.”
“Horsehit,” spat the deputy. “It’s Homeland.”
“Get in the cell,” said Connor, motioning with his gun.
Kyle stood and walked into the open cell, fists clenched and eyes burning with anger.
“Close it,” snapped Connor.
Kyle gripped the sliding door and swung it close, the metal bars clanging as it slammed shut.
Connor looked to the exit. He licked his lips. “Is there a back door out of this place?”
“Fuck you,” replied Kyle.
Connor stabbed the gun in his direction. “Keep quiet.”
The deputy glared back at him. Connor took a shaky step towards the exit, his legs suddenly weak from his rising fears.
Let’s open her up and have a look, he thought to himself as he fished the keys from his pocket.
The door buzzed open. Connor edged out of the cell room, the pistol weighing a tonne in his raised arm. The hall was empty save for promotional posters, wanted criminals fliers, framed pictures of employees receiving awards and a lone potted fern. Voices reached Connor from one of several open doors. He crept forward, his eyes searching for an exit and his ears tuned to the conversation.
“…is a dangerous individual. He needs to be transferred immediately to a safer location where our technicians can give him the treatment he requires,” came a woman’s voice.
“That may be,” replied Sheriff Hudson. “But that doesn’t explain you being here. I haven’t had time to take a piss let alone call this kid in. Just how did you get here so fast?” he said in his agitated, slow drawl.
“We’ve had a team of jockeys searching for a lead on him the moment he escaped his care treatment,” replied the woman. “The second his sealed file was pulled we knew we had a location.”
“Hmm,” murmured the Sheriff, unable to hide his scepticism. “You government watch dogs sure move fast when the time calls…”
“He is a serious risk.”
“So you keep reminding me. I’m going to make a call. You go ahead and take a seat for a second,” said Hudson as he loudly arranged some papers at the counter.
A chill silence filled the space, as both parties measured each other. “I’ll wait outside. That thing gives me the creeps,” said the woman, tilting her head at the android.
Connor heard the front door open and close before the old man chuckled to himself.
“Stuck up, subterranean bitch. Come in here and me tell what…” said the Sheriff to himself. “Hey, Kyle! Come in here!”
Connor took that as his cue to keep moving. An emergency exit sign hung above a door to his right. He sprang forward from his hidden location and wrenched open the portal, abandoning his previous stealth. A short corridor lead to a fire door, its walls lined with boxes of files. Running, Connor pushed at the opening mechanism. The night air hit him with a welcome cold sting.
“What the fuck are you doing now?” called Hudson from the foyer, mistaking Connor for the deputy.
A small parking lot ringed by tall brick walls greeted Connor, two parked County Sheriff’ cars the only vehicles. Connor had never driven a car in real life, as growing up in downtown Boise hadn’t required it. His ‘skills’ gained in idle hours spent in VR car racing were about to get a crash course in the practical. He reached for the nearest car and pressed the bunch of RF keys to the small pad. The lights on the car lit up in response as the locks clunked open. Connor flung open the door and jumped into the driver’s seat, his eyes glancing over the unfamiliar controls in a hurry.
“There,” he said, pressing the ignition button. The engine roared into life.
The backdoor to the police station burst open and Sheriff Hudson appeared, his face a mask of confusion. The two men’s eyes locked over the short distance as Connor put the car into gear. Connor punched the gas and the wheels squealed as the engine growled. He eased off the throttle a tad, letting the tyres find traction. The car sprang forward, almost colliding with the building before he wrestled control back and shot the car onto the quiet street, passing a stunned woman with a radio to her mouth. Connor swerved down the road as he got accustomed to the new vehicle and did away with his desire to floor it like he would in a video game. He hooked the speeding car through a red light and onto the main road leading out of town, a smile working its way onto his face, either from nervousness or the sheer thrill of driving. He didn’t know.
“Holy shit, this is fun.”