I passed the time until bust-out observing what me and my cellmates were wearing. Apparently, I had an eye for fashion. Clearly, we hadn't been in this prison very long, since we hadn't been changed into prison uniforms like the orange jumpsuit that kid, Kail, had been wearing in my vision. Holli was wearing a miniskirt with an empty holster on her waist, the miniskirt pulled over a white t-shirt with black suspenders running down it. Clearly, this was some sort of coordinated effort of dressing, since Pipe was wearing something similar. She was wearing heavy black jeans and a white t-shirt with black suspenders running down it. I took some time to reflect on the two of them. Where Holli was slim and lithe, Pipe was muscular and strong. Holli's hands were dainty and small, while Pipe's were larger and calloused. This, with her build and tan skin, led me to believe that Pipe had probably worked outside for a long period of time, and it'd been recent. Holli I wasn't sure about. While everything about her had a general air of popular bitch at school, the way that holster hung comfortably on her hip told me that she'd been dealing with guns for much of her life. Either this war was recent and she'd just had history with guns, or this war had been going on for her entire life.
As for my clothes, they were pretty cool, but beat-up. My top was a practical sweater, in a pale gray color, and of course, I had the whole skirt leggings and cool patterned boots thing going on. When I rolled up one of my sleeves, I found an intricate tattoo on my forearm. It was a swirling, curling, lace design. Holy shit. It was pretty cool. I couldn't remember anything about why I had gotten it, or what it was supposed to represent, and it bugged the hell out of me. I asked Holli about it, in case it was a gang symbol or something, and she replied that she didn't know anything about it. I wanted to know if I had any other tattoos, but hey, I wasn't about to strip down right here. I valued my privacy. I think. It's kind of weird figuring out what kind of person I was. I knew I had strong morals, and was a wise-ass. From my clothes I picked up that I was fashionable. Other than that? Figure it out as I go along, I guess.
Before long, the cell door clicked open, revealing the blue-haired boy, Kail, holding several large guns. The legs of his orange jumpsuit still bore smears of the guard's blood where Kail had wiped it, though he looked much less creepy in person. A large crowd of prison escapees ran around in the hallway behind him, presumably to freedom. I remembered the cell doors clicking open as he walked past in my vision.
"'Sup, gals?" Blue boy smirked, tossing a gun to Pipe and Holli. He kept two for himself. I could tell he was a dick already.
"Kail!" Holli squeaked, sticking her gun into her holster and draping herself around Kail's shoulders in excitement.
"Nice to see you, K, darling," Pipe swooned dramatically. Wow, she finally said something in a non-growling/grumpy tone.
"Who's the new girl?" Kail asked, finally looking my way. He had square features, and icy blue eyes. Fuck. He was kind of cute. Was I a gay dude? It would explain the skirt, I guess.
"That's Spark. He's the prophet that landed us in here. And he took a stun bullet to the head, so don't try to ask him about anything that happened longer than thirty minutes ago," Holli answered. I waved weakly. Kail was giving off a general air of asshole, but he was cute so I decided to play nice.
"So, like, are you named after the vegetable?" I ventured. Someone had to appreciate my joke, right?
"Hah!" Kail boomed, surprisingly loud. "I like this one. And it's like hail, but with a 'k'." Finally, someone answered my question.
"Enough. Let's get out of here," Pipe demanded.
Holli raised her arm, shooting her gun into the ceiling excitedly, making me jump in surprise. "LET'S BLOW THIS POPSICLE STAND!" she screamed. The three ran out into the hallway, hollering and shooting, while I jogged quietly behind. I would say I was like a fourth wheel, but those are kind of important and that's the opposite of what I was feeling. Maybe a fourth mole removal. Or a fourth divorce. Same thing, really.
After a while, we came to a hallway, flooded with the orange jumpsuits of escaped prisoners, leading to huge double doors. The prisoners were standing around, thumping on the door with their fists, not getting very far, since they were locked. I took a moment to wonder where the fuck Kail had gotten all the guns he had kindly distributed to everyone except me, and then realized it probably had something to do with the fact that there were no guards running around and trying to get things back in order. In fact, it was kind of eerie. There were no alarms blaring, no huge gates descending from the ceiling to keep us trapped in. There had to be more security measures than just a few guards and cameras, right?
Anyways, my new "friends" exploded the doors off their hinges with a more than generous spray of gunfire. Why the hell had I agreed to work with gun-happy criminals with colorful hair? I mean, I'm guessing I actually agreed to this. They could have kidnapped me and wiped my memories.
Bright sunlight streamed into the prison through the gap left by the doors, and for an instant, my spirits were lifted and I was willing to forgive those assholes for, you know, being assholes. Because we were going to make it into that lovely, glorious sunshine, where everything would be safe and warm and happy.
And then the giant robot ripped the wall off the prison.
"SURRENDER THE PROPHET OR DIE!" It boomed. In that moment, my brain registered that they were talking about me, since I had visions of some sort and Holli and Pipe had mentioned they had to go through a struggle to secure me, a struggle that landed them in prison, and it also came to my attention that a couple prisoners had realized who I was and had grabbed me by my sweater and were forcing me towards the robot. No honor amongst thieves, eh? In that same moment, my brain was like, "fuck this shit, I'm out." In other words, I shut down.
That robot's pretty stupid looking. Like a frickin' snowman, I thought to myself. Wow, I am so incredibly funny. A snowman analogy! I'm a genius! I may have laughed out loud. I'm not sure. Everything was pretty fuzzy. Something exploded close to me. I hope none of that shrapnel gets on my skirt. It's premium fabric. Well, not the shrapnel, that's not premium fabric. The skirt.
"WAKE THE HELL UP!" Pipe screamed, right in my face. My brain realized I had to deal with this or die, and everything snapped back into focus, far too loud and fast. A gash on my leg was gushing blood, and a robot blade sliced through the air, cutting straight through Pipe and I's torsos. Wait. That hadn't happened. I realized quickly that I'd had a very tiny vision, apparently one so small my hands hadn't needed to glow. I shoved Pipe to the ground, landing on top of her (I'm probably be gay, so don't be getting ideas with that sentence) just as the blade sliced through the air, so close I could feel the breeze off it. In return for my excellent timing, Pipe whipped out her gun and shot a projectile out of the air before it hit us. We jumped to our feet, running and dodging the explode-y carnage.
"SURRENDER THE PROPHET OR DIE!" The robot repeated, louder than before. I realized we were closer to the robot, not farther.
"Why are we running TOWARDS the giant killer robot?!" I shouted at Pipe. She grinned wildly and pulled me along. I think it was the first time I had seen her smile, and it was creepy as fuck. I tried to dig my heels in and stop, but damn, she was strong.
"I got the prophet for you!" She yelled up at the robot, holding me with my arms behind my back. I struggled and thrashed, trying to break free, but it was no use. She was going to sacrifice me to the giant killer robot. The robot lowered a giant, shiny bubble down to the ground, a hatch in the top opening. Pipe stepped towards it, and I realized it was a transportation bubble. To bring me up to into the robot so it could kill me, or transport me to some location where I would die at a later time and date, or something. She was really going to do it. I was dead, and my life couldn't even flash before my eyes, since I only remembered the past forty-five minutes of it. At the very last second, Pipe jumped into the bubble herself. The robot was none the wiser, and raised the bubble to it's main, globular hatch. Pipe's bubble disappeared from view, and the hatch closed shut over her bubble. I quickly located Holli and Kail, who were leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, having a casual conversation.
"What the hell is she doing?!" I demanded. Why was no one concerned about the fact that Pipe had just been eaten by a robot?!
"Chill it, Sparkly. Pipe's got this under control," Kail grinned. I bristled a little at the fact that everyone had just accepted my nickname was "Sparkly" even though I had known them for an extremely short amount of time.
"We'd better step a little bit back," Holli grabbed Kail and I by the shoulder, pulling us back. Suddenly, the robot started exploding from the inside out. Something was zipping around it, beating it over it's head with it's own arms, robotic guts flying beautifully through the air. I saw a flash of red, just for a second.
"Holy-" I broke off. "Is that Pipe?!"
"You betcha!" Holli giggled. The robot continued exploding for a little more, before most of its electronic guts were spilled out all over the ground. The robot teetered for an agonizingly long second, then crashed to the ground. Pipe was standing on the top, heaving one of it's massive arms over her head victoriously. We all cheered, even Kail, who seemed genuinely pleased. Maybe he wasn't a dick, or at least not to Pipe and Holli. But then again, there was that dark, kinda creepy part of him that growled into a man's ear before cutting his throat with only a finger. Minor details, I'm sure.
Pipe stumbled over. "Get me an energy drink and a cheeseburger." She then promptly passed out, into Kail's prepared arms. I wondered briefly how long these guys had been fighting together. They were a well-oiled machine, anticipating each other's movements before they happened. Again, I wondered if that kind of skill came with practice or if they had been raised in this war.