Chapter Eleven - Intermission #6

As much as I dislike Joel and his close minded goals, I have to give him credit for his tenacity. It really seems there's no escaping the man, not even for a god. He is but forty two years old and, at least in body, nothing other than human. Yet the Game has touched his mind, given to him a gift wrapped in the finest threads: madness, and he has taken and devoured it. Money, power, glory, none of these - what Joel seeks is complete and utter domination, complete subservience. If only he understood the Game in its totality though, he wouldn't bother hounding me constantly. If only he knew that it was him who would be dominated he would save what's left of his life, he would leave me well alone.

I should give you an update on my situation. When I left you last I was writing from a cubicle in Jackie's flat. I sit now in one of Darragh's many airships, this one I'm assured is his 'fastest', although I seriously doubt Darragh would waste one of his finest ships to save me. I'm writing this on Darragh's system and saving it to my own disk, for some reason Jackie won't let me use her laptop anymore. On board the airship currently is Jackie, Darragh, Katyiana and myself, we are escaping from Joel's air fleet which is chasing us over the Atlantic Ocean.

This may seem a little unusual (when does it not, I am after all telling a story set in the past from the future to your present), however in this timeframe such technology is really taken for granted. The 'developed world' polices itself, but due to leaps in technology, especially in weaponry, criminals are quickly able to form literal armies to fight one another. Law enforcement struggles to beat criminals back; their jurisdiction only goes so far, as do their resources. In the Middle East and similar areas the world is very different. The area is little more than a battle zone, warlords seem to grow overnight and pillage anything they can find, until beaten back by other warlords and so on. The 'developed countries' attempt to intervene in peacekeeping missions, but ultimately they end up winning areas full of crucial resources and stopping right there. Why do I say all this? Well, I'm simply explaining how Joel manages to create an air fleet without any sort of military attempting to stop him.

Still, I'm quite comfortable here on the run anyway. Katyiana is, as you may have anticipated, caged and currently dormant in the lower cargo hold. With me aboard it'll take more than a lullaby to put her back to sleep if she wakes up, but hopefully Darragh's cage holds up better than his robots. Jackie and Darragh are squabbling about something in the cockpit, knowing Jackie it's probably about Darragh's flying. Reminds me of old times really, haha. Nostalgia, yes I'm quite relaxed right now.

But how did we all get here? Joel had been tracking me prior to my arrival in America, as soon as he was close I told Jackie we had to leave, but it was difficult to know exactly when he would strike. Joel had already crossed the ocean and was hours away from Jackie's flat, his infernal machines put a damper on how easily I can detect him, thus he was already too close to escape from. I decided the only way to beat one crazed megalomaniac was by enlisting the help of another, and so decided to call Darragh, who had succeeded in capturing Katyiana. Darragh made sure to remind me that I had doubted his robotics and had proved me wrong, although for once I wasn't concerned with his unrelenting bragging at all, so long as he had Katyiana temporarily contained. I don't like to label her as if she were a corrosive acid or radioactive material, but until we find the means to 'cure' her, she is nothing more than a rabid animal.

Jackie and myself ran (I wasn't taking any chances with the bus) as quickly as possible through town and headed to the understreets. They're a vast, open industrial 'layer' found in most towns, areas that were cleared in the past for redeveloping but have yet to have been considered profitable by any major organisation. They are not actually streets underneath the cities, they are simply called the 'understreets' because compared to the titanic skyscrapers that dot around the rest of the city, they are very much below everything else.

The dilapidated buildings and torn apart roads were the only objects in the paved desert that stood out, in many ways the undercity is but a glorified construction yard, however it is also a very popular gathering place for the homeless and criminal organisations. The area Jackie and I ventured into was, unfortunately, filled with a large number of both criminals and the homeless, as well as a scattered number of police who were largely being jeered out of wherever they went. Jackie and I were located inside a smashed warehouse that would just about keep the sunlight out, since Darragh would not reach us until daybreak. I have yet to explain the effect of sunlight on Prodigals and myself, haven't I? This will become much clearer as my account progresses, for now simply accept the fact that daylight is dangerous to us, especially with people around.

"He'll find us, that maniac will find us if we have to stop here." Jackie whispered sharply to me, making sure not to raise her voice as we attracted attention to ourselves with our fairly quick entrance. I tried to calm her down, but the situation was as dire as she made it out to be - short of lying what could I have said to calm her? It was Jackie, after all.

After twenty three minutes, part of a criminal 'drag racer' group approached us and asked if we would like to buy narcotics. We politely declined, but the individual was slightly more than insistent that either we buy the narcotics or the gun in his hand would go off straight in our faces. In any other situation I would have gladly taken the bullet and still politely refused to purchase what I can only imagine were the finest narcotics this side of Cuba, but with the huddled masses scattered around us and the overwhelming sense that Joel's army would soon arrive, I thought it best not to push my luck. In as subtle a way as possible I took control of the man's thoughts, or more, told him to do something else in a way he couldn't possibly ignore, and left the man on a vain quest for ice cream. Whilst I felt a criminal dealer asking for ice cream was vaguely amusing, I just hoped he wouldn't later attract attention to us again.

Several hours later came daybreak, although in the relative darkness of the warehouse most were either asleep or talking amongst themselves, with the noisy sound of drag engines and motorbikes racing around outside. Sunlight is no friend to 'my kind', not anymore. The explanation for this will be yours soon enough, for now, as I've said before, merely accept what I tell you. To the blighted masses the rising of the sun spelt a time of relative comfort as most criminal activities thrived only at night; however to Jackie and I it meant only more danger. Joel would attack before the sun went down again.

We were pinned inside the warehouse; to walk outside would be to face the sun. To face the sun would be to lose yourself, to become the monster fairytales make you out to be, to lose everything. It would make no difference to me true, however Jackie would not survive such an excursion - amidst the destruction she would be discovered and Alyssa, for all her weakness, would burn Jackie to cinders in front of me. In that state what could I do to stop her? Too many have burnt at Alyssa’s hand already, the list of casualties, the list of those caught need not expand.

When stuck in such situations one finds they have to make their own entertainment, and thus I decided to start scanning the minds of those around me. Boring things for me, revelations to the individuals I'm sure, but I'm fussy when it comes to thoughts. I don't care what you find ironic, I don't care what predictions you've made, I don't care about world events, I couldn't care less about who you love and how much you love them - they are boring thoughts, as are thoughts of killing, revenge, anger. If this is to be the last thing I write, then at least it will be typical of my writing in general. Arrogant? Haha, I suppose I am, but at least I stick to what I believe. I prefer your thoughts when they look past the humanity, when you go into a trance and sink into another dimension. Trains, bread, desks – life, they are boring; there is too much waiting for you beyond. The nothingness is attractive to me, that endless void that I never seem to reach.

I was glaring at a man who was passionately thinking about a woman next to him. It's instinctual perhaps, but to a third party observer it is rather repetitive. As I stared into his eyes, wondering how life could progress through the ages to make such a tedious beast, he glanced up and caught me. Instant anger.

"Something funny, kid?" He was upon me within a few seconds, grabbing me by the neck and slamming me against a wall. Truth be told, in my eyes he took an age to reach me, it was out of choice not panic that I sat there waiting to see what he'd say. "I said you got something funny you lookin' at there, kid?"

"I heard you the first time," I replied.

Out came the knives, as the man sought to reclaim his dignity through blood. At this point Jackie turned to me and tugged my arm. "You did, did you? Then why don't you answer the freaking question? You looking at me, right? You looking at me, you staring as if you're in goddamned love," he spat on the floor next to me. "Not sure where you are, kid? This isn't no fun camp, there ain't no momma going to step in and save you here, I could stab you up and no one'd flinch, you got half the people here'd start gnawing on your goddamn corpse. You hearing me kid? You understanding?"

"You shouldn't spit," I looked over the man's shoulder and then back into his eyes. "You spread diseases."

One of the ape's colleagues started shouting, "Do it Rob, I think he thinks you're kidding?"

"You think I'm kidding, kid?" The man pressed his knife against my neck. "You think I'm freaking kidding!"

"Yes I do.” I almost burst out laughing, but the most I could do was flash a smile. “Do it then, put me out of my misery - teach me my goddamned lesson." Jackie tugged on my arm again, and I confess I knew what I was doing was a bad idea. The man was nothing, but if we counterattacked Joel would find us in no time - the Game rarely works subtlety if you know where to look. Simply follow the explosions.

The knife entered my neck, pushed into my gullet and slid across so as to sever the vein. A small amount of black blood came dripping out, but not nearly as much as the man expected. "Perhaps you should have used a bigger knife."

The man's friends, being slightly unintelligent, believed the injury was not fatal and pulled their guns out to shoot me. The rest of the masses in the warehouse seemed not to care, save for a few scattered individuals who were paralysed by fear. "Guns too? This seems a little unfair."

"They don't fight fair, Samuel." As Jackie spoke she too was shot. "Charming..."

The men were aghast; the man holding the knife had taken a step back as his eyes settled upon the colour of the blood. Absorbed by boredom and vengeful after the man's belligerent lecture, I transformed into my Prodigal form and advanced on the men. Two turned for the warehouse's door, but I had taken the liberty of locking that for them. The rest of the warehouse entered a state of nightmarish tumult.

The man with the knife had fallen backwards, skidding over my blood as he tried to run backwards. I grabbed him by the neck and looked into his eyes once more, revelling in the newfound fear he had for me. His friends opened fire on Jackie, but as I said they were slightly unintelligent and also opened fire on me - killing their friend as I held him aloft. I threw his shaking corpse into them and they screamed, realising what they'd done.

A man who had been high in the clouds - doped up whatever you label the condition as, grabbed an iron bar and swung it against me. I had seen his attack coming and so wrenching the bar from his hand, screwed it into his face and left him gashed on the floor.

"Where is Darragh?" Jackie's spoke in a relaxed, almost tired manner.

I pulled the bar from the man's quivering body and started smashing any random person, I was bored after all. "I don't know. Why don't you call him?"

Jackie grabbed a gun from one of the corpses and started firing on people to the left of me. "Has he changed number? I don't think the one I have works anymore."

Taking a woman's head clean off I replied, "Yes, yes he did. I wonder why he didn't tell you."

"Yeah, I wonder why," Jackie replied sarcastically. "Call him. We don't have time."

I had a man protesting fearfully against a wall, tears streaming down his face. I stuck a claw through his chest and absorbed him before whipping out my phone and dialling the number.

"Joel's here." I said, having been on the phone for two seconds.

"Mmm?" Jackie asked.

"Phone is being jammed. I hope Darragh finds us quickly." I replied.

"Don't count on it." Jackie said back, looking at the few crying, scared or drugged out people left alive in the warehouse. "Let's get rid of these first."

I nodded back to Jackie and sent a blast of heat throughout the warehouse. All bodies, save Jackie and myself, began to simmer and bubble, the injured and non injured alike, almost as if they were suspended in some form of infernal grill. The smell was revolting, especially since hair singed and burnt too - but necessary, for the corpses had to go and... well frankly, no one could be left alive. Call it cruelty, necessity or just old fashioned madness, everyone who saw us for what we were had to die. There are only tinges of sympathy for them now; I hope you, who have obviously done so much for this world that you are allowed to judge my actions, do not think less of me.

“Kid, you know which warehouse you’re stuck in?” Whilst Joel could jam signal transmissions, he had not the means to jam telepathic communication between us. The ‘mind phone’ has signal, credit and power all the time… if you can concentrate. It was a strain for me, but I found I could answer him.

Flicking my eyes to one of the panels on the sealed door I replied, “225. You might want to hurry.”

“Relax kid!” I could hear the sound of airship engines as Darragh stopped speaking, either he was there now or Joel had arrived first. Joel’s first move would be to tear the roof of the warehouse off with his machines, however Joel would also gun down all civilians in the area – I had heard no gunfire, so the engines had to be Darragh’s.

“It’s a really nice day!” Darragh shouted over the engines. “The sun is shining and people are heading towards here! How do you want to do this? You gonna risk stepping outside to get in? I have a dark room set up for you.”

“We’ll get in a container. That piece of junk airship can carry them right, won’t be too heavy?” Jackie started shifting a large metal box into the centre of the warehouse.

“It’ll carry the container. Not sure about the freaks inside, but it’ll carry the container.” Darragh stopped talking for a second and paused.

“What?” I said, moving with Jackie into the container, causing my words to echo.

“You might want to hurry; he’s here. Quick, or you can camp out in that container and let Joel mess with you!” At this Darragh turned back into his ship and left.

I lifted the container from within using my ‘power’, it felt effortless to lift, but the movement was enough to shatter my concentration from time to time. I bashed down the warehouse doors with the container and used my mind’s eye to direct it towards Darragh’s cargo bay. This might sound a little wishy washy in terms of fantasy, but once you become accustomed to power it seems basic and effortless.

A missile sailed past the direction of the container and landed next to the airship, the force of the explosion compelled me to change my direction or head into the fire. Madly I thrust the container into the cargo bay, hitting against the airship’s walls with a power so great I feared I’d literally smash the airship apart. I didn’t however, and the cargo bay’s doors shut. There was nothing afterwards, save the darkness and Jackie’s glowing eyes.

“What’s the problem Darragh? Lift this damn thing off!” Jackie said out loud.

The whoosh of the cargo bay doors opening again distracted me from my thoughts, which were centred fully on why the airship remained stationary. I heard the mechanical clunking of MCMs, then the container being lifted somehow. I tried to stop the container being moved, but the mechanical objects wouldn’t let go. Resisting every step of the way I found my strength diminished – I could only do so much. The container was dragged away, I fell unconscious.

Waking up is difficult, especially when you have no idea where you are, or where you’re supposed to be. A part of you finds the darkness more familiar, safer even, than the sight you see when those eyes open. I suppose this is irrelevant if you can see in the dark. I was somewhere familiar; somewhere I knew I didn’t want to be. The box was completely and utterly sterile, no longer a pitch black metal container but instead a room with white walls, a single electric light and no discernable exit. The inspiring decoration was recognisable to me – I was in Joel’s airship.

With scattered thoughts as to the wellbeing of my friends, I paced up and down the room as I had done many times in the past. Through a fatal error on my part Joel captured me before, as such I felt a less than pleasant familiarity with the setting around me. At first I believed he could be a useful ally, as time went on I thought at least an industrious acquaintance, now, however, he is only an enemy. The Game has twisted him out of shape, all the logic and calculations in his mind end up with one single result.

You might ask yourself why I appear to be so fearful of this scientist, why this human being, a human being the same as those in the warehouse, the same as you, inspires terror in me. Joel may have physical limitations, however he has studied long and hard, using his manipulation of science to almost tap into the Game itself. He has limited domination over Alyssa due to circumstances I will explain, unfortunately this lends him a great deal of power, even if he commands only a slight amount of her force. For one he can nullify certain powers I have – if I fight Joel then I am reduced to physical prowess, and with his machines he can come close to equalling me in that. I can only rarely scan his mind to find his plans, but he has numerous shields and devices to stop me. He is annoying to say the least, and he knows it. He is the cause of many deaths, his deranged experiments have spelt the tortured ends of countless Prodigals and Purists. I care not for those who are unable to defend themselves, but Joel makes defence impossible. He rigs the Game.

But worse than all this, he has no limits. I talked earlier of his personal army, his destruction force – they are the true horror. Perhaps I should explain now… perhaps I should tell you later.

The hidden door opened and waiting for me in the identically blank corridor were four masked soldiers and a mechanical mounted gun. My powers were limited as Joel had machines in the walls, like kryptonite to your Superman. Only these machines had their limits – I could still throw fire at them all for example, could still take the bullets from the gun and survive. In fact I did, because I didn’t really want to be captured again, but throughout it all I knew Joel had let me escape on purpose. Unlike stereotypical villains however, Joel did not laugh or gloat at me, he simply watched me over his CCTV and planned his next move.

I fumbled around slamming whatever enemies came at me, but eventually my injuries became too great and I was forced to stop. It was only then that I realised the walls of the corridor were closing inwards, as if to crush me. I was tired and still being shot at, but somehow I managed to hold the walls and prevent them crushing me. I was stuck though, I could not easily attack the growing numbers of my aggressors without being crushed by the walls, and should they close in on me, my bones would break leaving me incapacitated for a time.

“Subject T1, this should take very little time. You will be released shortly.” Joel spoke without feeling or emotion, I had a feeling he spoke merely to remind himself of his plans for me. “It has become necessary to track your progress; I will now ask you a certain number of questions.”

“And if I refuse to answer?” I replied, still struggling against the walls.

“You will not refuse to answer,” Joel turned to his clipboard and read his first question almost mechanically. “What actions will you take towards the Resurrection? Alyssa has approached you?”

“She has. My plans remain the same as before, I will not aid you.”

“You have already aided me, T1. Relevant scans are being conducted as we speak, and I have no further tests for you. I will be there at the Resurrection, subject T1, in full force if necessary.”

“Do you really think it’ll matter? You can torment me no longer with these aberrations; your path leads nowhere Joel – nowhere with any meaning at least. Your goals, your aim, this insane desire you have… nowhere.”

Joel seemed not to hear the words I said, as he moved the paper on his clipboard and pushed a number of switches hidden in the blank walls. A number of beams shot over me, however I could not discern their purpose. My initial impression was some sort of tracking device, it would seem keeping me in captivity again was not his agenda - although I wasn't such a bad guest last time.

"The other two subjects are in a sealed room further down the corridor, you will be escorted there shortly. You will then depart through duct 7." With this Joel turned to leave, not in a puff of smoke or by melting through the floor, but by walking as any other person.

I called to him as he left, still being crushed by the closing walls. "You think you can hide it Joel, but you've shown me already," he paused and I looked at him, seeing a person not just a concept - a man not a villain. "It's corrupting you, you know it is. What happens if you do absorb him, Joel? Are you ready to be like me?" He walked away. "Why the hell would you want to be?! Where is the attraction to being this, what logic…?”

“You are in no position to offer suggestions, subject T1. You will leave through duct 7.” With this he departed, not even turning back to look at me.

The guards who had been shooting me now guided me down the corridor, having flicked some manner of hidden switch that stopped the walls from grinding me to pieces. Four masked guards surrounded me in a square formation, each moving at the same speed as one another. Guards seemed to be posted all around the corridor, standing in front of seemingly useless walls that one would, permitted they were given time to look, find were actually hidden chambers. Eventually the square stopped. A door to my left whooshed open and the collapsed forms of Jackie and Darragh were brought out.

Without taking even a second to register what was going on, the soldiers dragged us all back the way we came and back through another blank white corridor, this one much narrower than the previous corridors had been. I had no idea what the time was, but I had a deep fear that we were about to be immersed in sunlight. Before the first guard could open the duct door, I grabbed one of the soldiers and threw him into another. The remaining guards, of which there must have been seven or eight, all opened fire at me - but I withstood the bullets and strung each soldier in front of me as a temporary bullet shield until there was but one left, whose neck was easily twisted. His corpse hit the floor with his head facing a clean 145 degree angle to the right. I'd struck a blow that caused the helmet to roll clean off. I didn't want to look down; I knew what face would be staring up at me. Blue eyes, fierce expression - David's face. And under the black visors of those other corpses? Blue eyes. All the same, all cloned monsters extracted by Joel. Underneath the black uniform one would find black skin, Purist skin, only not nearly as strong or as rigid. The skin was a by-product of Joel's experiment, how he lived in this place knowing these things were all around him I knew not. I still don't know. Vessels all carrying David's features, this man torn apart by me. How can I be expected not to care, after all this time? How can I be expected not to fear this scientist if he has the power to turn one of us into... into what I describe! Vessels!

I hefted Jackie and Darragh on my shoulders and charged forward. As I made my way to one of the main hangers I saw sirens beeping, sirens which would escape your attention unless you knew where exactly to look. Guards began rushing out of every corridor, bringing with them a storm of bullets. I managed to evade most of the shots through the winding passages, eventually reaching the industrial chasm that was the hanger.

Two MCMs jumped from the bottom of the hanger to the balcony where I stood, both of which turned to fire on me. It was with great difficulty I sped myself up, the ability to simply increase my movement having been dampened by Joel's devices. Normally it does not take a thought to achieve such a feat, one simply achieves it, but this was a struggle - it was physically exhausting. I managed to throw myself off the balcony to whatever vehicle sat in the hanger, however Darragh began to stir as we plummeted through the air which threw my balance off a little. We landed with a heavy thud, and then suffered further concussion as a missile was fired by another MCM on the other side of the room.

"Kid..." Darragh spoke barely audibly. "Use the Landshark to escape... rocket the hanger walls... don't screw up..." and he fell back unconscious.

I wasn't going to disagree with Darragh while he was unconscious, it would have sucked all the fun out of the process. When you exist for so long you have to make your own fun, as I've said, and what's more you have to cherish every moment of enjoyment - enjoyment does not come often. True enjoyment I mean, not just sustainment or survival, true enjoyment is, for once, revering undeath, being glad that one can never die. I do not imply here that annoying Darragh is a reason to revere undeath, but one can always derive a certain satisfaction from it.

The Landshark was to all intents and purposes an armoured jeep with a heavier base. Despite its armour, the Landshark would not survive an onslaught of missiles, and the number of MCMs was growing as the sirens continued ringing. Having torn one of the doors off to quickly put my friends in the back, I drove the Landshark towards an MCM and swerved so as to get as close to the enemy as possible. When within range and at a speed that was slightly less than safe, I whipped past one of the MCMs and grabbed hold of its missile arm. The metal was difficult to snatch away in my weakened state; the machine suit was strong enough to slow the Landshark as it veered across the MCM's path. I did eventually snag the contraption off the MCM, which left the soldier with one less arm and largely in shock from the injury. I try not to think about it being David's arm.

The Landshark was in bad shape. During the seconds it had taken me to commandeer the weapon, Joel's army had been firing gatling guns and all manner of other weapons at, what I have already said, was little more than an armoured jeep. Knowing that our vehicle was on the verge of explosion, I whipped up the rocket arm and localised its firepower on one place of the airship's walls, adding as much destructive power as I could muster onto the explosion. My weakened powers were barely enough to splinter the makeshift door.

With limited opposition I drove the Landshark forwards, although the sunlight made me question what I was doing. I had to take the risk and hope I wouldn't be affected before I could skid the vehicle into Darragh's airship, provided the cargo doors were still open. The Landshark had tinted windows and largely kept light out, but the door I'd ripped off allowed the light to beam through. I started losing control instantly, Darragh began to stir as I lost consciousness and the last thing I remember hearing was: "Oh you screwed up, you screwed up big time," before I blacked out completely.

I came to a few hours later, admittedly with slightly more than a headache ringing through my ears. I was huddled in a cage with purple laser edges, to the left of me was Jackie in a separate cage and across the room was Katyiana, both of which were asleep. Darragh sat away from us staring at several computer screens in a swivel chair. As he realised I was awake he swivelled around to see me and stood up.

"You were supposed to find somewhere to hide first, kid. When I said 'don't screw up', I didn't mean 'let's drive out into the sunlight and have a nice time on the freaking beach'. You almost got us killed!" Darragh seemed indignant, although I had known him long enough to tell when he really cared - he didn't really care.

"We're already dead, what does it matter?" I changed the topic accordingly. "Our reaction was bad? Is that why you've stuck us in these cages?"

"Yes, your little sun trip turned you psychos into worse-psychos and I had to stick you in there. Maybe I'd save myself a lot of hassle if I just left you all there and walked off. You were only exposed momentarily though, so it wasn't so hard to lump you both in there - made a lot of noise though, I forgot how you types get when you lose control."

"No worse than you used to be. You're keeping Katyiana here?" I replied, glancing at Katyiana. She was mere inches from me.

"You got any better ideas, kid? You wanna stick her down a hole so she can fly out again, or chain her underwater so she can swim right out and burn you? She's safe enough there. Well-" Darragh was cut off by the airship violently rocking back and forth. "Well, unless this ship bursts into flames and we all die. Hahaha."

"Joel is following?"

"Yep, you expected him not to? Seems he had some unfinished business with us, but he can screw himself over if he thinks I'm going to let him get us again. We're just damn lucky he didn't get in here and bust out Katyiana, you know? She's worse than you. Guess it's also handy he didn't disable the airship, so maybe it's better you didn't wait until night to escape."

Jackie began to stir, and I had no delusions as to what she would say having been caged by Darragh. I asked Darragh to release me and, after a brief joke about me not roaring anymore if he did, I walked out and started writing this on one of his computer systems. At the time of writing this it is night and I am staring at grey mists above the ocean. We are flying to the Coasts again, past England.

The time is right, as the saying goes. That's why Joel's following. I only hope David can forgive me for what I've done, and what I'm about to do. The Resurrection is here, what a ghastly word. This tale ends soon I fear, I will have to speed up the next chapters. I hope Jonathan’s psyche can handle this. If not I suppose I could always find a more durable host.