Rebels Among Cyborgs

Chapter 3

After I had made my decision to stay where I was and stand my ground, I went about preparing for another day at the shop. But I brought a few things along with me.

          I put on an already grease-stained and worn pair of cargo pants, a loose shirt that was just as worn as the pants, and worn leather boots. It was my usual outfit for when I worked in the machine shop, plus it was perfect for my new situation. Why? Because it was perfect for hiding weapons in case the government decided to strike me at the shop.

          Once I was dressed, I secured my hair into a tight ponytail and made my way once again to the weapons room. This time, no startling realizations came over me and I walked over to the racks where dozens of stolen government weapons and ammunition sat. I sucked in a breath of pride, pleased with all my work and achievements.

          I picked up a smaller weapon that was one of my favorites; a handheld fire orb shooter. (Basically, you load it with small orbs that, when shot and broken, start massive fires. I carry it on many of my missions, which is part of the reason I’m nicknamed the Phoenix.) Smiling at my “little friend”, I tucked it and a small box of fire orbs into my left leg compartment, packing cloth around them to prevent any noise. I also tucked a few knives into my boots and headed back to my room.

          By the time I had packed my tools and stashed my wings and mask in one of two bags with tools in it, (and glanced out my window for any government goons) it was seven o’clock. Time to go to work.

          I tromped down the stairs, not really caring if I woke anyone up. On my way out the door, I plucked an apple from the basket on the counter for a small breakfast. The shop was in the local market, just a short hover-bus ride away.

          I munched on the apple as I strolled towards the hover-bus stop. I made sure to keep an eye out for suspicious people following me. Nothing out of the norm. Not until I reached the hover-bus stop.

          I had just finished my apple and I tossed it into the waste disposal that was at the stop.  I took my seat in the deserted bus stop and waited for the bus’s arrival (fifteen minutes).

After sitting the heavy bags that I was carrying on the ground to give my shoulder a rest, I opened one and began putting tools that I used often into my cyborg arm’s compartment. To keep the tools from clanking, I stuffed a few grease-stained rags into the compartment as well.

“Mind if I sit?” a voice beside me startled me into dropping a wrench. It clattered against the sidewalk loud enough to make me flinch. I looked up at this person who had managed to sneak up on me.

He looked like he was slightly older than I was and he had dark hair and dark eyes. He was dressed casually, but a gleaming badge on his jacket’s breast pocket stated that he was a commander in the USaCoA army. A wave of fear rolled over me, but I forced it down. Act normal, I told myself.

“No, I don’t mind,” I tried not to stutter as I reached down to pick up the wrench. The mystery soldier beat me to it.

“Sorry I startled you,” he said as he handed me the wrench. I gingerly took it, trying not to meet his eyes. After placing the wrench into my arm and closing the compartment, I rolled down the long sleeves of my jacket that was only there to cover the holes in the back of my shirt. I was embarrassed of showing more of my metal parts than necessary in public.

“No, no. You’re fine. I’m just a bit jumpy today,” I tried to keep my breathing steady, but being so close to a possible enemy set my nerves on fire.

“You seem quite anxious as well,” the commander said, frying my nerves even further. I was not in the mood to talk, especially to a stranger.

But I simply laughed it off and said, “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of stuff going on recently.” The last thing I wanted was to seem suspicious.

“Oh? Like what?” the commander pushed onward, obviously wanting to start a conversation. I didn’t know what he was trying to do, but it didn’t sit well with me.

“Well, I’ve got a mechanical shop I need to run for my dad, I need to earn enough international bills for my family to pay for what we need and such, and I’m a cyborg,” I stated, playing along, but also being careful not to blurt out everything else on my mind. Playing along was risky, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

“And why would being a cyborg be such a big deal that it puts stress on you?” Mystery Guy questioned.

I let out a dry laugh, “Really? Don’t you know what happens to cyborgs on a daily basis?”

Mystery Guy nodded. “Yes, I do know. But why does it stress you?”

“Why wouldn’t it? It’s the thing I fear the most. It’s why I don’t walk to my dad’s shop. It’s the reason I’m homeschooled, the reason I only leave the house for work, the reason I am who I am. I am a cyborg, and I just have to live life the way cyborgs do; afraid and alert,” I finished as lights began flickering on in the surrounding houses. My head hang as I stared at the sidewalk, not wanting to hear what I thought the commander would say next; I’m sorry.

“The Phoenix is a cyborg, but she doesn’t live in fear.” The commander tried to look at my face. A strange feeling came over me. I felt as though I knew this guy, as though I could trust him.

“Not all cyborgs have wings to escape with, or the fighting skills she has,” I said, wishing I could tell this guy that I am the Phoenix, but I’m still afraid.

“Last time I checked, the Phoenix uses her wings to go into battle, not escape,” the commander stated as bus noises began to draw near.

I sighed, knowing I couldn’t win this one. “Fine, you win. I’m Carolina Icarus, by the way. But just call me Cali.”

“Commander Damien Radix, at your service, but just call me Damien,” Damien said as he reached for a handshake. I accepted it.

“Good to meet you, Damien. Now, why did you decide to strike up a conversation with a lonely cyborg?”

“Well, it’s not every day you meet a beautiful cyborg who’s practically begging for some company,” Damien said as he gave a flirtatious wink. I blushed and looked away at the compliment.

The bus noises drew closer and I could tell it was only about three minutes away.

“What’s your comms number?” Damien asked, referring to the phone-like device implanted in everyone’s brain. A number appeared in my cyborg eye that was my number.

“Five four three six two zero one,” I replied, hoping that I wasn’t making a mistake by plying along, “And yours?”

“Seven five one three six two four,” he said, “Mind if I escort you to your shop?”

I laughed, nervous and choosing my next words carefully, “Sure, why not?” I hoped that after today, he would forget about me. Although, I did find his company soothing and enlightening.

My hope didn’t come true. Not even close.

AN:

Hello, again! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and the new character! I bet you can guess what the picture is for this chapter! As always, feel free to comment. Please keep the feedback positive, or phrase it in a non-offensive way. Until the next chapter,

DAYdreamer61401