Finally, sea. My escape from the nation where I am a rebel, the enemy of the world. In front of me is a small dock with a guardhouse. I stand behind a thick light post in the late day, sucking out the energy from it. The dock itself has about twenty boats of various types with a repair shop nearby. One of the boats appears to have a cabin that I could sleep in, so it is chosen as the vehicle I will use to escape.

The first obstacle is a tall metal gate. Taking a quick stretch to prepare my legs, I then begin running towards it. At just the right distance, I make a small jump and bend my legs down. Here I boost the energy to my quadriceps, which causes me to leap into the air and over the gate. The ground rushes towards me, and I land on all fours unharmed.

The watchman is taking a break to smoke a cigarette. The guardhouse is a modestly large building, one floor with many windows and possibly several rooms. His room's walls are glass about halfway up, so that he can see. An electrical panel rests behind the front window.

Quickly, I run over to the man's room and duck down. He's no more than three feet from me, yet the watchman doesn't know I'm here. Placing both of my hands on the metal wall, I lift my head just high enough to see him. The guard is leaning on the control panel, putting his weight on one arm while pulling the cigarette out of his mouth with the other.

I utilize this chance to incapacitate him. Surging electricity out of my hands, the energy goes through the metal wall and into the panel. The human body is a conductor of electricity, and when it reaches him, it's more than just a little shock. As my hands, feeling having started returning, burn in the pinpoint areas where the electrons are shooting out, the watchman's arms and back straighten as he gasps in surprise and pain. He shouts for a moment and collapses on the ground. He's not dead, though. The amount of current put into his body wasn't enough to kill.

Now that I am unwatched, I run onto the wooden platforms and jump onto my chosen boat. It is a powerboat with an enclosed room where the wheel is, a cabin on the top deck and, upon inspection, stairs that lead down into the engine room.

The boat is affixed to the dock by a large metal chain. The end of the chain connecting to the boat is magnetically held to a receptacle with two holes next to each other. These are filled by the two prongs of a half-link of chain. I grab onto the half-link and magnetize my hands, using superhuman strength. I yank the chain out and toss it off the boat.

Down the side of the deck, I run to the wheel room and attempt to open it. The door is locked. With my right arm, I make a fist and launch a powerful punch through the window of the door, reach down and carefully unlock the door, trying to avoid shards of glass.

I get the door opened and enter it. The engine is key operated. Using a clever trick I learned years ago, my magnetized hand is put over the key slot and slowly turned. Internal mechanisms inside the slot move as well, and the boat starts up. I put the boat in high gear and race out of the dock into the river. On the spot, I dub the boat Salvation.

Minutes later, the Salvation is nearing the open sea. Then a siren sounds off behind me. Another one begins seconds later, followed by a third. Checking the screen of a rear view camera by the wheel, I see three police boats chasing me.

Two boats accelerate and ride on either side of me. Inside the boat on my left, a man in a blue uniform looks at me, and then reaches in his pocket, a purple stripe around the elbow. I see him pull out some kind of weapon and duck in time for the projectile to pass over my head and burn a hole in the glass on the opposite side of the room. He's using the technology of the aliens.

The two boats rush ahead of me and begin to converge in front of me. To prevent a collision, I bring the Salvation to a halt, lurching forward by the sudden deceleration. Another near miss with a particle weapon's discharge. One of the boats in front of me parks at the left of my hijacked boat, five officers with blue uniforms and a purple stripe all glaring at me. I run out of the room and down the stairs into the engine room, locking the door.

This room is small, just enough space for the engine and a few counters where tools lay. White walls, counters and ceiling connect to a blue floor. The stairs are but a few steps, with a yard-long wall on either side. I hide behind the right one, a hammer and chain within arm's reach.

Outside the room, officers board the boat. I hear a knocking on the door, and one of the officers shouts to me in Japanese. After a minute of silence, he repeats, this time in perfect English.

"Bryan Brown, we know you are in there. On authority of the Kanan Departments of Imprisonment, Research and Security, we demand that you open this door and surrender yourself to us. Do not refuse to comply. We have authority to kill you."

My heart jumps as soon as he says my name. Panic takes over. I grab the chain and energize it with electrons.

The lead officer slams on the door, and smashes a hole in the glass. Shards fly into my view. I then hear the door being unlocked and opened. Five officers of an alien government stand mere feet away from me. The first one steps down the first stair. Then the second. Then the third. There is one left.

I prepare to swing the chain at the officer. It's long enough to go around the width of the wall separating us, and could do some real damage.

He steps onto the fourth. Another step and I can see the black boots he wears. In one frightful moment, the chain revolves in the air and smacks into the man. He gasps and shouts as deadly current, more than I planned, burns through his chest and causes his heart to seize up. The man jumps backwards and knocks the others onto the deck.

As he does so, the weapon in his hand, one of the alien particle guns, flies out of his hand and slides on the floor in my reach, less than a yard away. But it is still within sight of the other officers. Yet instinct takes over and during the moment of confusion, I run towards the gun, bend down, and pick it up. Still in the crouched position, I aim at the still-huddled group of men and open fire on them.

My first shot, intuitively aimed at the chest of the officer closest to me, at the door, puts a hole through his heart. Some particles burn through him completely and tear into the shoulder of the man behind him. The other two quickly exit my sight.

Officer three, who was injured in the shoulder, now rests on the deck, gripping his wound in agony. The shot shoulder connects to the arm with his weapon. Futilely, he attempts to aim at me. I focus on his protruding chin and pull the trigger. He only grunts when his brain is blasted.

A deadly silence starts. I suddenly realize how my breathing is heavy, how my hands shake, the particle gun aimed at the door. I look down, at the body of the balding old man at my feet, and the gray one under him. The coolness of my cross necklace gets my attention and my spirit screams at me to stop this madness. But I can't.

Stalemate. Their boat is still alongside mine, right in my view. They could retreat now, but the moment they entered my sight, precision aim would slay them instantly. Seconds pass, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. One of the unseen officers breaks the quiet.

"Keep this up as long as you want, kid," states the man with the accent. "We can wait here as long as we need to."

"Get the hell off of my boat!" I shout in response.

"This isn't your boat."

Instead of replying verbally, I demonstrate my intent by taking aim at the wheel room on the officers' boat. Three shots blast through the window, and after a furious barrage, buttons and knobs that steer the boat are blasted beyond repair.

They respond by jumping in front of the door at the same time and firing at me. By some miracle, I get out of the way just in time to remain unharmed. I take the chain and recharge it. From my hiding spot, I step in front of them and, lifting the chain over my head, throw it at both of them.

Neither one has time to retaliate. They just curl up and collapse. All five of them are dead. I collect the four weapons and peek out the doorway. One boat in front of me, one boat behind me.

I withdraw back to the stairs and investigate the bodies below me. I notice palm-sized bulges in the pocket of officer four. Reaching in, I pull out five grenades, shaped like diamonds and with a smooth purple surface. I resolve to throw one at each remaining boat.

Memory, aim and precision unite in one daring, desperate move. First I move the last two bodies out of my way to have firm footing then, taking a grenade in each hand, I sit down, facing inwards. Recalling the distances between my boat and the other two, I lean back and put the palms of my hands on the tip of either handrail, with the grenades held by my fingers. A deep breath to calm my shaken nerves, then the plan is executed.

I push on the handrails, causing my body to slide onto the deck. I bring my hands down, extended like Jesus crucified and lift them up fast. I am actually throwing the grenades in opposite directions. The left goes to the boat on my right, the right to the boat on my left. My arms cross each other mid-air, then come back down empty-handed.

On both boats, shocked yells alert each other for three seconds. Then the two devices explode, light flashing from both, loud bangs deafening me again. The Salvation shakes and I cover my face from the metal bits that start raining down on me.

Minutes later, I am able to sit up and brush off the shrapnel. I am cut in many places, though where my burns are, almost nothing is felt. I look to the left and to the right. No survivors, just blown up boats on fire, sinking into the lake. They were just distant enough that my boat gets a little tinged, but nothing else. I run into the wheel room and maneuver around the front boat. The water around it is red, fragments of bodies floating in the blood.

I speed off into the open sea.

Weeks pass. No more opponents appear, since such a small boat is never found this far out. I drift most of the time, driving under power only a few hours a day. Solar panels offer some, but not much, power for propulsion.

Foot lasts for about two weeks, but long before then I make use of the fishing net and water filter provided by the boat.