Caibidil a Trí
Celeste had two problems:
Number One: She was on her own in the big wide world, not knowing anything about her current identity, only her new first name. She had no paperwork, credit cards or licenses. She didn’t even know what age she was set to be.
Number 2: The Lab had tried to kill her. That means, if they had already figured out she was still alive, they would hunt her down. Knowing them, they probably had an entire army of those pesky little robots, and plenty of the giant ones, with their meat cleavers.
Celeste shuddered. She had gotten herself in a boatload of crap. But she had already jumped on board this crazy train, so she was forced to ride it out, wherever it was going to take her. But she didn’t know whether she was going to arrive dead, or alive.
So, without any other options, Celeste continued to walk, finding the carnage of the bombed building, and picking through it carefully. She came across a few charred bodies, some without certain appendages. She had to suck in her tears, and the pain and sorrow built up inside of her.
She delved deeper into the wreckage, finding some canvas and wire, which she made into a makeshift knapsack, with the survival skills she mysteriously began to remember. With newfound strength, she carefully peeled away crumbling walls, to reveal things that would help her later on, like a broken fridge with two bottles of water, a jar of pickles and a package of dried apricots. She found it strange that these things weren’t perishable. Had the Lab intended for the explosion? Or was everything just a coincidence?
Celeste pondered these questions when she came across an enormous crater before her, about thirty feet in diameter. It stretched into blackness, running down at least thirty yards deep. Strangely, Celeste could figure out these lengths in her mind, adding to her confusion. Somewhere off to her left, she heard a moan. She turned slowly, moving towards the sound. It was coming from under a fallen generator, which had since shut off. A man was trapped beneath it, with only his torso exposed from under the heavy device. He moaned again, softer this time, obviously losing his energy. Celeste took a sudden breath of air, catching his attention. His cloudy blue eyes swept over her, and he smiled slightly.
“Its you.” He stated simply.
Celeste was too shocked to speak. She recognized this man, from a single memory that had not crossed her mind until know.
“I’m sorry this happened.” The man said. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far. I took too many risks, and this is my punishment. I guess your mother was right about karma.”
This time Celeste spoke.
“What are you doing here? I mean, how did you survive?” she asked, looking at him incredulously.
“Ah. As you can see, this is where I detonated the bomb. I don’t know how I survived, a miracle most likely, or else it was fate for you to meet me here.” He stared at her, a blank expression on his face, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.
“I mean, why are you here? I thought you were dead! You mean you’ve let these freaks steal my life each year?” Celeste screamed.
“No, no! I’ve been protecting you. See, the only way to hide from your enemies is to be in plain sight. So I’ve changed your name to hide you from the Lab, but labeling you as an experiment, so they wouldn’t discover that you’re my daughter.”
Celeste was speechless. Her jaw hung slack, and her mind was spinning, trying to fit the pieces together.
“Where’s mom?” she asked at last.
“Dead.” He replied, his jaw tightening. A single tear ran down his cheek, leaving a shiny track.
His breathing was heavier now, and Celeste noticed dark blood staining the front of his shirt. The generator had obviously pierced his chest.
“Listen, Celeste. This is not good. I can’t fix this.” He was referring to his bloody wound, glancing down at it, like it was just an inconvenience. “I can’t protect you anymore.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Celeste pleaded, her voice breaking.
“I mean, you’re going to be on your own. But I haven’t left you completely helpless. I’ve gone into your records and snuck a few extra of your memories in the transfer machine when they wiped your memory for your new life. Also, I added one of my experiments. I’m not completely sure if it will work, but it’s supposed to make you… well, er… superhuman, per se.” he made a motion that resembled a shrug.
Celeste was speechless. She had so many questions, and there before her was the key to the answers, but he lay dying under a generator. It wasn’t fair. Anger swelled inside her, fusing with the sorrow and pain, making and indescribable feeling that couldn’t have prepared her for what happened next.
She let out a cry of fury, and kicked out, her petite foot colliding with a metal side of the generator. With surprising force, she followed through with the kick, the two ton generator dislodging itself, and flying twenty feet away, then fell into the sinkhole that the bomb had created. Ten seconds later, the sound of it hitting the bottom of the hole rang out, echoing through the crumbling structure, and raising a cloud of dust.
Celeste laughed, astounded by her own abilities. She wanted the man to see this. He had given her these special skills. But when the dust cleared, she realized that more harm had come to him. His wound was reopened and fresh, and he was losing blood fast. But Celeste couldn’t help him, so her only option was to ease him out of his life. She had to hold in all of her burning questions, like what her real name is, how old she is, what she looked life before the Lab began experimenting with her. She wanted to know what her mother looked like, where the lab was located, and what memories she had never remembered.
But none of those questions were answered, because the last thing the man had uttered to Celeste, with his last breath of life, were these words;
“Your memories are where the set was murdered.”
Then he was gone.
Celeste cried, heaving great, chest aching sobs, her salty tears landing on the man’s bloody wound. But she knew she was losing precious time. She took a box of matches she had found earlier out of her knapsack, and looked down at the broken man.
“I love you daddy.” She uttered, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
She struck a match, and watched the flame dance for a few seconds. Then, with wicked speed, she tossed the match down the sinkhole, and began sprinting in the other direction. Moments later, a resounding boom was heard. The leftover parts of the bomb had been reignited, and the explosion was chasing her down. Everything behind her was burning, and the heat singed the ends of her hair. But she knew that all evidence of her father was destroyed. She wanted it that way. Her father was a good man, and had kept her alive by gambling his own life. But now he was no longer alive to help her.
Now it’s her job to stay alive, and figure out where her memories are hidden.
Why must the location be a riddle? Celeste thought to herself, carefully dodging falling debris.
Why couldn’t he have given me a treasure map or a GPS?
But Celeste now had two more, bigger problems.
1. She had set the building on fire, but she was still in it.
2. She had no idea what her father’s riddle meant, but she knew that it would mean answers to her questions.
And she suddenly realized a third issue in her plan;
Where do I go from here?
Suddenly, the cloudy image of the guy from her old life, her New York City life, popped into her head.
And that was her answer.
New York City, here I come!