(DRAFT) Artificial Terror

Chapter 16: Resulting Products

    "What?"

    "Oh, nothing," I started. "Thought you should know you should take a shower. Trekked through a construction site?"

     "Like you're looking any better. You smell as if you took a swim in an irradiated monster's mouth."

    "Touché, but kudos for dealing with my bluntness."

He gave a smug look before sitting down in the second seat.

    "Are you two done with the pointless remarks?" asked Charlotte.

    "Yes," I replied. "By the way, how much further"

    "There's about 75 miles left and this train's going as fast as it can. We'll arrive in about an hour."

    "Thanks, because I want a nap." I yawned.

Now comfortable in the seat, I curled up. I closed my eyes and listened to the low hum of the engine. A few minutes passed when something draped over me. I opened one eye to see Blake sitting back down.

    Smiling, I muttered, "Thank you."

Sleep overtook me.

When I woke up, someone called me. I didn't want to get up, yet I did.

     "What, what, what?" I asked as I fixed my glasses.

     Blake stood over me. "As I said, we've arrived and everyone's waiting for us."

     I stretched my arms out and cracked my neck. "We're here?"

     "You slept so peacefully, but the world's waiting."

     "Oh! Well, let's make an entrance."

The blanket fell from me as I left the chair. I didn't remember much from sleep: no dreams or nightmares. That's good I suppose. Blake opened the cabin door for me, and an even larger crowd cheered. Benches, vending machines, trash cans, and other decorations sat pushed back for everyone. The station had brick walls, tiled floor, and metal beams holding up a metal roof. The sun shone through the skylights. I'm back. I focused on the crowd in front of the train. A mass of people cheered as I climbed down the ladder. So many people of ages, sizes, and authority. A barrier separated them from Blake and I as we stepped onto the platform. Soldiers and news networks surrounded us. I can't believe this is happening. I scanned each face for familiar ones, yet my eyes spotted their silhouettes in a second story window. The station master's office.

I waved out to the crowd who cheered my name. Blake stepped forward.

     "Are you ready to meet my parents?" I smirked.

     "Already? Do I look alright?" He responded.

     I laughed. "Like I'm in a better state."

A news reporter and a cameraman ran up. The woman wore a purple dinner jacket with a maroon blouse and her chocolate eyes gleamed. Her red high heels clacked against the tile. The cameraman stood shorter with thinning hair and an oval face. First interview already?

    "I'm Veronica Lemmings from Minnesota's own Channel 37," she said with an amused smile.

     "You've made history, young man. Any chance we can get an interview of what happened to you?"

    "Uh..." I started until a soldier intervened.

He had a neat buzz cut and a steely gaze. At least, I'm not going to be unprepared for an interview.

     He cleared his throat before saying, "The general would like to have a word with you, Mr. Kazenmacher."

    "Okay," I said, eager to get away from the reporter.