“But I think we need to tell them the truth,” No sooner had the words left my lips did his demeanor change.
The older guy, who’s name I found was Bullet, his muscles rippled as he tensed up. I glanced at the two-way mirror, almost able to picture the fryer sitting behind her desk, scrolling through her holographic screen.
His eyes narrowed as he rose to his feet. Even standing in the corner he looked monstrous. I clamored to my feet as well, facing the glass. “You hear me? I said I’ll talk!”
In the blink of an eye, his large, gruff hands grabbed my collar, tugging so hard my feet barely touched the ground. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” He growled. “If you tell them anything all those people will die.”
I found myself meeting his glare, glancing back to the mirror again. “But we won’t.”
The veins in his neck and brow pulsated as his face burned bright red. “Nobody want’s that more than me, but if a single word about the Outliers leaves that mouth, you won’t like what I do to you.”
I wrenched my collar from his grasp and wiped his spit off my face. “And you won’t like what happens to you, either, if you ever threaten me again, Bullet.”
I turned back to the mirror, hands clenched. I could tell from Bullet’s stature that he was seconds away from pouncing. “All my life, someone has either lied to me or tried to control me. I am sick of always being second best. I’ll tell you what you want to know, in exchange for military accommodations.”
My voice was strong and, in my opinion, very convincing. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but there was enough twisted in there to not make it an outright lie. Though I looked for a glimpse that he was catching on in Bullets eyes, but the pea-brained buffoon just charged at me.
I braced myself as the three-ton locomotive barreled forward. Waiting until the last second before he would have hit me, I spun around him sticking my leg out. He merely stumbled before twisting back around. I could almost see the trail of smoke spewing from his nostrils.
He rushed forward. This time I stepped into his attack, hooking my foot around his ankle as I ducked underneath his curled fist. It was almost like second nature, countering his sloppy and uncalculated attacks. He was easily at the same level as a rug-rat, maybe even lower-a baby. Much to my satisfaction, his face met the stone floor with a deafening crack. Just as I had expected, the cell door flew open before he could attack a third time. Droids swooped in, separating us to different sides of the room, forming a sort of barricade between us and the Fryer woman, who now stood in the doorway, empty eyes on me.
“You say you want accommodations in exchange for your aid?” She spoke softly, almost like she was calculating the effect every word had. “What accommodations would that be exactly?”
I cleared my throat, watching Bullet struggle against the droids. “Can we speak somewhere else?” I tried to funnel as much disgust into my voice as I could possibly manage. It wasn’t hard as I was watching my so-called Ally foam at the mouth trying to murder me.
“Of course,” The fryer waved her hands, two droids broke ranks to stand at my sides, escorting me into the hallway.
Everything was so much darker, it took my eyes several seconds to adjust. There were no lights in the Hall, except for the faint golden glow through the cell windows. The fryer lead our procession exactly twelve cells down before coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the hallway.
“Fortunately, all cells are full,” She spoke monotonously, as if they weren’t torturing teenagers in those cells. Off to the left, a few doors away, an angry voice shouted over the sound of banging.
I listened to the faint groaning that followed every hollow bang-a young girl. As the noises stopped, the angry man began to speak again. It was coming from a cell that had no door, only a plastic curtain, probably meant to catch blood. I couldn’t make out the words, but my skin crawled when a loud crack echoed through the stone hall followed by a stifled screech.
“oh, don’t mind that,” The fryer spoke up, a smile spreading across her rat-like features as if she enjoyed listening to the screams. “I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you.”
My heart thundered in my chest, clawing up my throat. I swallowed hard. Count to ten, I rehearsed. One…two…three…by eight I could think again. I shoved the jittery chills off, remembering my mission. I couldn’t afford to show fear, they fed off it, molded it. Finding Falcon was the only thing I needed to think about.
“You want information,” I raised my chin, meeting the Fryers cold eyes. “I want out of the rebel army. Ask me anything.”
“Anything?” She repeated.
“Anything,” I confirmed.
“Good,” For the first time since we’d met, she smiled genuinely. “Tell me everything you know about her.”
She pulled up a box on the screen emanating from her wrist, the video was fuzzy, but I could tell it was the same video Vigilance had shown me. She halted it on a flash of Falcons uncovered scowl. My face scrunched, pulling at my swollen bruises.
I cleared my throat. “What do you know already?”
“That’s Classified,” the corners of her mouth tilted up. “Let’s start with a name, shall we?”
I racked my brain, trying to remember the most powerful birds. “Eagle.”
“Eagle? As in the western bird?”
“Exactly like it,” I nodded, feeling strong with my lies. “She’s American.”
“I was under the impression that Outliers didn’t choose their own names,” She rewound the video a bit, playing a snip of Falcon yelling. I nearly flinched as her eastern accent blasted from the fryers watch. “and she doesn’t sound very American to me.”
A cold sweat crept up my neck, but I fought it off. “It’s a fake accent.” I said, accentuating my A’s to mimic Falcon's voice; a task I was all too familiar with. “Most Outliers do it so you guys can’t identify our country of origin, pin us down and stuff.”
“I almost believe you,” She smiled. My heart nearly stopped beating as she drew a blaster from her coat pocket. “Only, you said OUR.”
“Did I?” My tongue was like sandpaper against my gums, scratching them raw from my mouths sudden dryness.
“Fuck it,” I groaned and sprinted forward, towards the fryer. Her face was a mask of pure disbelief, she was so blindsided that she forgot to pull the trigger. Using the wall to build up my momentum I pushed off it, striking the fryer straight in the nose. Her gun clattered against the stone ground, sliding down the hall.
The droids pounced, strong metallic arms jabbing at me. I tried to duck out of their grasp but one managed to lock around my torso, slamming me into the ground so hard my spine let out a long crack. And I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, the pain was so unbearable. Strong hands found their way around my throat, crushing my airway.
I kicked my legs out, desperately trying to hit something, anything. All it did was crash my bones against the titanium droid. My lungs burned for air as i struggled, thrashing my head so hard my ears whistled with the thundering of my heart as it sped up, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump.
Just as my vision teetered in darkness, someone off to my left let out a mighty battle cry. “RAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!”
Air flooded my lungs and I happily swallowed gulp after gulp of the sweet relief. There was shouting and screaming, but it was fuzzy, as if I were underwater. I rolled to my side, barely able to make out the shapes of several figures squirming.
“-the gun!” A voice calls between heartbeats. It was familiar, so was the dark towering figure surrounded by white uniforms. “Get the gun Archer, before these pigs get up!”
I wondered how the strangely morphed shadow knew my name. My first thought was that maybe Bullet had escaped. But as my vision concentrated once again, I was met with a different unjustly tall ally. Vigilance’s towering figure struggled against the two droids, slowly losing his grip as their uniforms tore under his strength. I gasped, wringing my neck around in search for the blaster. Much to my relief, it was only a few feet away.
My breath shuddered as I rolled onto my stomach, pulling myself across the hallway. Blinding pain jabbed at my back and ribs when i moved, but i had to focus on my goal. Only a little farther, I told myself, just help him and then you can rest.
My outstretched fingers wrapped around the handle just as the droids broke free from his grasp, wrestling him to the ground. I rose to my knees, holding the blaster with a shaky hand. My eyesight was still, blurry, but if I closed one eye and squinted just right I could focus. A mere second was the only opening I would have, a twenty-five-percent chance of hitting Vigilance instead of the droids.
“Don’t think, just shoot!” He screamed; wild eyes trained on me right before a zombies fist met his cheek.
Don’t think. The idea was absurd. Did he have so much faith in me that I wouldn’t hit him, or did he just not care? Breathe Archer, Baba’s voice repeated in my head. Feel the metal in your hand, the air around you. You are the gun.
one…..two…..three……four…… five……
FFFFZZZZZZT-CLANG, CLANG!
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