The Expatriate-the story of a Prodigy

37. Stinking Fortune

He advanced without turning around to check on the others, for his ears told him that they had all made it out after him and someone had placed the manhole cover back in place. No one, not even the gun shooter, was on the big street, which, like all the other streets he had driven and walked through, was plain and had only tall buildings aligned in a straight line. He thought that it might be some kind of trap, but found and heard not even the slightest signs of movement by someone nearby in hiding. So he relaxed and was looking around him in respect and happiness once more when-
He saw someone ahead of him, maybe some tens of meters away from them, on the ground, kneeled and hunched. Before anyone else behind him could stop him, he advanced carefully, eyes alert and ears looking around for even the smallest sign of danger with the fella on the ground, but, there was none, once more.
He saw that the figure was a small boy, whimpering and, despite his look as if he was a 10-year-old or something, swearing. Yes, like how Alex Mars had been in his own childhood, the boy was swearing like hell-and clutching his thigh.
Alex Mars heard and saw the blood seeping out slowly from the boy, only because a greater portion of the liquid had already escaped the boy's body and was splashed on the pavement. The boy looked up at the towering teen beside him with humongous eyes but didn't crawl away, maybe because of his leg, or since he felt no intimidation.
"You shot?" Alex finally asked. The boy's eyes narrowed and twitched once before he nodded. He pointed at his pants, now dyed crimson and dark. Alex knelt down and was staring at it when the boy blurted out with more urgency.
"He was a teen like you. But in a shitty Military uniform," With those words, Alex froze a bit. A teen? Then it could have been someone he had known or had even spent some training sessions within the Military...
Suddenly, anger positioned itself in his chest, but he managed to push the thing down.
"Were you protesting?" He said as the others stopped right behind him and stared down at the scene-their leader knelt in front of a bloody 10-year-old.
The boy nodded. "Hell, yeah. Ma was the one to take me to the protesting at first, but then I saw what it was all about. Followed my bro to protest today, but guess he forgot me for a while marched away. then the teen came running and shooting. I got shot. And it-" He winced. "Fuck. And it hurts,"
"Lyra, search the Polarick box to see if there's some kind of bandage. We gotta help him," Alex said and immediately, Lyra obeyed and pulled out a thin strip of clothes from inside. "That Ryan guy knew what would come handy during war," Alex murmured before wrapping it around the boy's leg and the boy winced and writhed, but said nothing.
After minutes of panting, the boy finally crawled onto his knees, then made himself erect on his feet.
"Who're you, then? I find you familiar with the boy in the huge poster that my bro and ma shakes about all the time in the air during the protests. A lot of other families had it too. But you can't be him-Alex Mars. You just can't be him,"
Alex felt a pang of glory and excitement when the boy said his words doubtfully.
"The thing is, this fella is Alex Mars," Miles's rang out when Alex found himself unable to speak, and all of the Raider's eyes went to see the reaction of the boy.
Silence.
Then,
"Jee-sus," The boy rasped out, eyes boring huge holes into Alex's own eyeballs. "Hell," He added, before shaking his eyes and heard and staring once more. "And right you are-you are A.M. after all!" The boy tried to jump in glee, but his leg containing a bullet prevented him from doing it. Meanwhile, Alex had to think for 2 seconds before it occurred to him that 'A.M.' stood for 'Alex Mars'. "You're alive, man! Then is Andrew Stewert also alive? Where's he? And who're the rest of you? Did you come to save us from the Military?" The four of them were all surprised when the boy managed to rap out questions like a crazy fax-machine, in Prod-speed. "No. He's in his grave. We're the Raiders. And we came to do something about this country and bring it back from its grave. Oh, and though you didn't ask a related question, you shan't be only afraid of the Military and gov. Beware also of the Rebels," As if intrigued by the boy's behavior, Melanie answered, ignoring the glare that Alex gave her when she said "he's in his grave" part.
The boy's face lit up once more, before falling.
"What the fuck are the Rebels? And I'm not sure what 'Raiders' mean," Alex was trying to answer when Lyra tugged the hem of his shirt. "We have no time," She hissed, and he was suddenly reminded that Lyra's sole purpose here was to find and save her family, and regarding that the Rebels were coming for the country, and the Military was prowling all around the country, she was right-they had no time at all.
"Sorry. You'll understand when-you've grown up," Alex finally said, depressed, but suddenly filled with a sense of hurry. The boy scrunched up his face. "That's exactly what my bro and ma says all the time. But, I won't mess up with the deeds you're going to do from now on, Alex," The boy grinned at the name just once more before turning away. "I'll now let you run and zap your Prodigy skills and kill all the Military and Rebel guys," The boy now limped/hopped away.
After he left, another minute of silence was going by and they were still looking at the place where the boy had been and at the corner of the street where the boy had gone when they heard something.
Something they had all dreaded.
The thudding, steady, and humongous sound of a helicopter suddenly erupted into the silent street. It entered Alex's ears steadily like his own pulse and he shuddered as the thing seemed to be getting nearer with each 0. second to them.
"Run," Miles croaked, and in the next seconds, they were racing as a small group to the nearest bend on the road, keeping to the shadows. Each of their legs became blurs beneath their upper bodies until they finally reached the wall of the nearest building and slapped their hands against it, halting themselves-
-just as the helicopter itself emerged.
They had been expecting a helicopter covered in thick black and striped with blue and red lines along its side with long and black blades-however, this one was a bit different.
Or, to be exact, a lot different.
The thing that now towered over the buildings and erupted into the street, beating its blades as loud as hell, was instead completely white with nothing else on it-alright, the blades weren't white, but extremely thin blades with red-and-white stripes stripped along with it. Both doors on its sides were fully open, and a figure hung on it precariously but at perfect ease, looking here and there down at the ground. Two thoughts passed through Alex Mars mind as the guy did.
First: the guy definitely wasn't a Military soldier. He was in baggy pants and a black T-shirt(the matter if the t-shirt had logos or letters wasn't clear, for his eyes weren't as good as that) and the helicopter simply confirmed that fact. But he couldn't be a civilian, for in 2044, the use of helicopters by civilians had been banned.
Second: With his ease, the guy seemed to be a Prod. However, he must have lacked the delicateness and skillfulness in sight, for his eyes simply passed over the Raiders and uninterested now, pulled himself back into the interior fully.
Those two facts could only tell him this: He was one of the Rebels.
And that fact struck him like a lightning bolt and he froze completely.
They hadn't come earlier than the Rebels and if they had managed to arrive much earlier, had wasted time.
And now, one hope vanished, and a fright took over his heart: he and the Raiders would have to face both the Military and the Rebels at the same time.

"They aren't going to see nor pay attention to us," Melanie whispered coarsely, back pressed so hard to the brick wall of the store-a cafe, Alex Mars noted-that it seemed as if she had gotten stuck to the wall like a stupid magnet.
"Al," Lyra tugged at him once more as the helicopter started to tilt and go away and the fella hanging out pulled himself back up into the body of the helicopter the Rebels must have stolen. "I know," He whispered back before turning square to Miles.
"We need to split up. Don't forget that our goal here is not to kill, but to protect the civilians from the Military and the Rebels. Use the weapons the Martian gave-they all don't kill. Do not use your killing chokes or punches," Miles stared at him dumbly. "Wait, wait, wait. Shit... Shit! We're dividing up?" "Yeah. You will go with Melanie. Me and Lyra have to find our parents first. Do you understand how we would feel if they, if they..." He couldn't continue. His brain couldn't even think about the consequences later if they-died or disappeared.
Miles was, thankfully, fast-witted that moment. "I know. I know it better than you. So how will we meet after you get them in safety? We all don't have phones," "We'll find a way-don't call us first, alright?"
It was like they were parting forever. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn't. But still, Alex Mars' heart shuddered while his breathe and nose wheezed.
"See you soon," Miles finally said and gave him a man-hug for the first time instead of a bearhug. Though the guy's fist pressed his back and squeezed like hell without the owner of the hand knowing, he didn't despise him for trying to crush his heart involuntarily.
Next came Melanie, who gave him a true smile and also hugged him in the friend-ish way. "Alex," She said, and this time, he didn't find any note of her savoring his name just like how she had done on that first day.
Then two also said some witty words and shook hands with Lyra.
Then, after that few seconds of warmth, they were gone.
And he looked after their shadows, swearing to them in his heart that he would make this Revolution succeed. Yes, he would.

"Let's go," he finally said to Lyra, who was lingering behind him, face dark-maybe with both worry for Sarah and the Rebels and Military, and the other two majors having to leave. She nodded and weakly, her eyes wandered for anything that they might have as a weapon. They only had each of their set of Martian weapons-the laser gun, paralyzer, and taser in their pockets, and nothing else-Miles had taken it all in the two Polarick boxes.
"How do we get there?" She asked.
Alex, who had seen something before, answered her solemnly, still feeling as if his heart was broken or ruined:
"The motorcycle," He said, pointing at a lone chopper parked on the sidewalk nearest to them.