The steady pounding of my feet against the pavement urges me forward.
Faster.
I dare a quick glance back and only just make out the flash of black fabric of my pursuer before I'm barreling down the next side street. I take my next available turn left and beg this ever-changing city to swallow me whole.
I make another turn down an alley between two brick buildings. I've lost all sense of direction, but that doesn't stop me from plowing forward. I dare another glance back and see no one, but I'm not stupid enough to think I've lost them. No, they're close. Waiting. I plead with my muscles to turn over more rapidly. You would think by now my brain wouldn't be tricked by this world and it's illusions, but unfortunately I feel my heart pounding in the side of my neck. Each beat a sad reminder that it's been three years since men's track. I'm never getting out of shape again.
I shake my head. Stupid real world thoughts trying to take over again. This is not real. Not real. I repeat the mantra over and over, but still with each step I feel the burning of acid spike through my legs and I groan in pain. Stupid illusions.
I take another turn and hear the all too familiar sound of an engine coming to life behind me. I nearly stumble in surprise. Damn. I need a plan. I see an exit to the alley and haul myself towards it. My eyes shut unwillingly against the sudden light of the open street. I force myself to squint through the light and then I nearly fall again when I see the Santa Monica Pier ahead. Shit!
I turn right and curse again. Third Street! I turned on Third Street! A few feet in front of me is a mass of people that continues down the next couple blocks of the shopping plaza. I stop and make to turn around, but then I see a white motorcycle screech around the corner into view. Not waiting to see if the motorcyclist will abide by the law that this is meant to be a pedestrian only street, I turn and run into the crowd of oblivious faces. I curse to myself as I sidestep my way around clusters of people. This, this right here is why I avoid tourist areas. Too many freakin' people to watch out for!
I nearly throw myself to the ground as an unsuspecting woman casually meanders in front of me. I manage to narrowly avoid hitting her or anyone else as I leap to the side. I need to get out of here.
I spot an open door to some ridiculously brightly colored clothing store. I duck inside and wait. Gulps of air pound in and out of my lungs and I strain to hear the motorcycle. The crowd probably slowed them down as much as it slowed me.
I tentatively step out onto the street. My pulse spikes as I glance around. Not seeing my pursuers has me more on edge then if they were chasing behind me. I wait another heartbeat and then make up my mind to go back the way I came.
Suddenly, a blast of air pushes me back against the glass of the storefront. My whole body tenses in anticipation. You have got to be kidding me. Surely they wouldn't interpret this many people just for little ol' me... would they?
Sure enough, I hear a chorus of screams coming from the end of the block near where I first turned onto the street. The crowd around me reacts in unison to follow the sound of glass and metal colliding in an ear-splitting boom of noise.
I push off from the store window and step further into the street. A cacophony of screams flows from person to person on a wave of fear as the pier's metal Ferris wheel comes rolling down the very street I turned off of earlier. The crowd stares in horrified awe as the wheel continues to roll, carrying the screams of trapped victims still stuck in the red and yellow carts out of sight. An eerie silence follows and then screams of those nearest the street suddenly pick up and the crowd becomes a mob running and shoving to get further away.
I watch, stunned, as a wall of water as high as a skyscraper follows the path of the runaway Ferris wheel. The gushing tendrils easily flow over the tops of the buildings at the end of the street and head straight for me. People run for their lives, not caring who they push in their attempt to outrun their imminent death. I watch all of this, but don't bother trying to run. Instead, I fold my arms and scan the crowd. It only takes me a moment to spot the young woman with flaming red hair standing just across the street leaning casually against the entrance to an Urban Outfitters. Her sleek black uniform helps her blend into the shadow of the entrance. She looks almost bored as she holds up her hand and watches the street between us completely clear.
I turn and gaze at the approaching wall of water. When I'm seconds away from being crushed I look back at the woman. A cruel smile plays on her lips. I can't help but close my eyes as I feel the first drops surround me. In the instant I feel water brush my skin, my body falls back with another massive gust of air. I hit the ground and groan, a sopping puddle of water beneath me. My eyes peel open and I watch the woman close the distance between us. She stops in front of me and holds out her hand. I hesitate for only a moment before lifting my soaked arm up to meet hers. She hauls me to my feet with surprising strength and before I can so much as think of running again, she slaps a handcuff to my wrist. In one motion, she spins me around and effortlessly clicks the other cuff, giving it a quick tug to make sure it's secure. Her eyes scan the now eerily empty street.
"Is this really necessary?" I ask while gesturing with my head back toward my hands.
Her eyes briefly meet mine as her sealed lips quirk into a small smile before her head turns toward the sound of running footsteps down the street. Reluctantly I turn too, even as fresh adrenaline spikes down my spine. A group of fifteen or so people jog down the street toward us, their bodies a wall of black and white uniforms. My eyes widen at the number. I guess I didn't realize I was so important.
I shove down the urge to try and flee. I know I've been caught.... for now. Ignoring the approaching group, I flip up my head trying to clear the dripping hair from my face and ask, "Couldn't you have at least pulled me out a couple of seconds sooner?"
She turns her attention back to me and actually seems to consider the question seriously for a moment and then gives me that secret smile again, "I could always have waited a few seconds longer," she says with a shrug.
I roll my eyes and try my best to shake the excess water off of my clinging clothes as the group of uniformed men and women finally catches up to us. A deep voice barks, "I asked for something to clear the street, N.I.-203, not a damn tsunami!"
My body tenses up. I know that voice. The woman shrugs again, unperturbed and says, "I needed something that when eliciting a fight or flight response would demand the subject to choose flight. Otherwise you would have a band of hard-headed vigilante types still standing here."
I turn toward the voice and see none other than Muscle shoving his way through the group of bodies scowling at my captor. Muscle and I lock eyes and a chill creeps across my skin. His platinum blond cropped hair and white uniform pulled taunt against his built body have always made me think he'd be more suited as a soldier than an Interpreter. The man towers over me and I'm 6'2''. Even though he can't have more than fifteen years on me, he always treats me like a child. Of course, they would send him of all people to help apprehend me.
"Walker," he says by way of acknowledgment.
"How many times do I have to remind you, that's not my name? It's not even that hard. Say it with me, Dev-in." I smile as the skin around Muscle's jaw tightens. Movement to my right draws my attention as a guy a couple of years older then myself in a black uniform comes sprinting up to our group. He bends over with his hands on his knees inhaling great gulps of air in an effort to catch his breath before looking up and giving me a disapproving onceover. He must be the one who originally spotted me. Jake's his name I believe. We've only interacted a few times in the past. His eyes take in my soaked outfit for a moment longer before he turns to Muscle. He gestures to the silver band around his wrist as he says, "Sir, should I contact the Institute and tell them we have apprehended WM-41210-LA?"
Muscle nods an ascent and replies, "Once they have confirmation we will head back." The guy steps away as Muscle turns to a shorter man in a black uniform and says, "N.I.-815, make sure someone over in Sleeper Affairs is aware we just interpreted a couple hundred people in a single radius over here. I don't anticipate any complications, but make sure they know or I'll hear an earful about it from the city patrol when we get back." The short man nods and also takes a couple steps away. I roll my shoulders, which are already beginning to tense up from being cuffed. Muscle notices and chuckles before saying, "Don't worry, Walker, you can expect something much worse than handcuffs in your future."
I put on my most charming smile and say, "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."
Muscle scoffs and says, "I'm talking about the consequences of your little escape attempt here."
"Escape attempt?" I ask.
Muscle's voice drips sarcasm as he replies, "Right, you weren't trying to escape the city limits".
"You realize you did find me in Santa Monica, right?" I point out.
Muscle tries to mask his annoyance, though his ears turn red and betray just how much I'm riling him up. He smirks, "Do you expect me to believe you were not trying to get past the boundary?"
"What would have given you that idea?" I ask innocently.
"You have exceeded your Expected Duration of Absence by thirty-seven hours!" he spurts before training his lips back in a thin line.
"Have I? Huh. Never have paid much attention to my EDA. Must have lost track of the time." Behind my back my fingers trace the smooth metal of the identification bracelet with its built-in watch and I smile.
Muscle clenches his teeth and he nearly spits as he says, "Then why, exactly, did you run away from us just a few minutes ago if you weren't trying to escape?"
Funnily enough, escape was the last thing on my mind. Not that he would believe me or understand the real reasons I had for staying away. My thoughts turn sour, but I force the smile to remain plastered to my face as I reply, "Oh no, no. I wasn't running away from anyone. I was just getting a little exercise."
The red spreads from Muscle's ears across his cheeks. Fortunately, his attention is pulled away as Jake steps forward and says, "Sir, we are clear to return."
Muscle exhales a shaky breath and into his silver bracelet says, "Bring the car around."
No sooner has he finished speaking, then a white car rounds the corner and pulls up to a stop a few feet from our group. Muscle turns and grabs me roughly by the shoulder and pushes me toward the vehicle. Well, this is all too familiar. Jake steps forward and pulls open the front passenger side door and slides in. Muscle shoves me into the back, my head nearly missing the top of the doorframe as I fall against the white leather seats. Muscle pauses in the doorway and says, "You can explain all about your exercise habits when we get back to the Institute and see how they feel about it."
I force on a grin again and say, "Fantastic!"
Muscle slams the door without another word. I ease myself up and try to find a comfortable way to position my body with my arms locked behind my back. Not an easy task. Muscle opens the driver door and slides in. I shake my head, freeing the damp hair that is clinging to my forehead. The car starts and I look out the window. Already, the street is beginning to fill with new people, completely unaware of what is going on around them. A knot of pity forms in my gut, so I turn away.
The car jerks forward and I stifle a groan as my arms are crushed into the back of the seat. I look up and catch Muscle's eyes in the review mirror. Adverting them, I look out at the city as it whips by my window. Thirty-seven hours, huh. I honestly would have expected them to wait a little longer before hunting me down. And to think they thought I was running away! How much of an idiot do they think I am? My I.D. bracelet has a tracking system in it for god sakes. Anyone trying to run would be out of their minds with stupidity. No, I'm not dumb enough to try and run, I already know that I'm trapped in this city, in this world.
I continue to stare out at the illusion of reality flying past my window, at buildings that won't be there tomorrow. It's not like you can outrun a world after all. I grimace and force my eyes to take in the view outside my window. Behind my back, my fists clench as I stare out at the world around me that makes up this never-ending dream.