I already eliminated several Castaway thugs in the tunnel, but there are too many of them. My improvised shield protects me fairly well, but still, several bullets hit the spot. I'm sure it will hurt once the adrenaline overdose wears out.
To hell with the bullets that ended up in my flesh - I can ignore them. What concerns me are the shots that hit the bionic part of my back. Every bullet can shatter the vials inside and make my mission futile. That's why I try to expose my back as little as possible, even if it means giving them an advantage.
The best tactic is to incapacite them with a surge of steam, then hitting them with the edge of the door. I also managed to burn two of them before I ran out of fuel for good - the faint glow of fire is illuminating the whole scene and I'm not sure if it's for the better or not.
Where are the goddamn Wardens? I'm almost certain they decided to screw me over, leaving me on my own. Even though the enemy numbers are limited, I can't last forever. I already feel the taste of blood in my mouth and I'm not sure if one of my vital organs hasn't been damaged.
One of the outlaws proceeds to bang on my shield with his bionic arm, leaving a dent in it. With a battle cry, I charge forward, bashing the attacker with the shield and striking him down with a hook punch. The Castaway collapses on the ground, but one of his comrades took the chance and shot me in the shoulder as soon as I exposed it. I clench my teeth, trying to endure the burning pain.
I feel it again. The madness is making its way through, striving to take control. If I let it, it would do everything for me - it would defeat all these thugs not minding the pain. To imagine I could just let the beast emerge and let it literally tear the enemies to pieces... it's tempting.
But I can't. Not now.
However, the red screen is not asking whether I want its help. And to prove it, it makes me grab a nearby Castaway and smash his head against the tunnel wall. Squeezed by an immense force, the skull cracks like an egg and the outlaw dies before he even finishes his short trip to the ground. God... what am I doing? The palm of my bionic hand is stained with blood. The sudden outburst makes the rest step back.
I try to calm down, but it's not easy when there are enemies gathered around me trying to gun me down. But I'm aware that letting the madness take over would only endanger the vials.
If I decide to stay human, I will probably die here.
If I let the madness change me, I will probably lose everything I fought for - and not only the vials.
But if I emerge victorious without the madness' help, maybe I will be finally at peace with myself for... long enough to accomplish my mission. And who knows, maybe I'll be able to heal completely once this war ends. Can that omnipresent, lurking darkness be banished for good?
"Shit, that sucker isn't going down easily," I hear one of the thugs utter.
"He's like... invincible!" his comrade agrees. "What he received would already kill three men, but he's still standing. He's not normal, I tell ya."
I am completely normal, my friend. I just have something to fight for.
"But he can't last forever," another one, a woman, says. "Just a little bit more. See? He's already wobbly."
I realize she's right - the energy I had at the beginning of the fight is gone - too much was consumed by the initial clash with Valentina and the furious ride that followed. If I succumbed to the madness, it would bring new power into my veins, but I already promised myself that I won't let it consume me.
Now I can do nothing but hide behind the shield, which is ought to fall apart any time soon, and hope for some miracle. Come on. I deserve it. Or is this my punishment for all I've done...?
The God replies.
It starts with loud cracks accompanied by flashes of bright blue light. One by one, my perpetrators are collapsing to the ground like someone cut off their strings. Then, I finally see a band of Castaway Wardens in blue jackets with shock rifles in their hands.
After all of Nightingale's goons are down, they aim their rifles at me and I gulp, aware what would happen if they pulled the trigger. "Easy, easy," I say while putting down the shield slowly, keeping my other hand up. "I'm the one who called you. There's no need to shoot at me."
...
"Maverick?" one of the Wardens, a middle-aged woman with a bionic eye, says. "I wouldn't expect you here. I thought you were some kind of..."
"Brute? Savage?" I interrupt her with a slight smile. "These days are gone, I hope."
"Where are the serums?" another Warden asks.
"I'll show you once you get me the hell out of this place."
They comply and lead me to the end of the tunnel where I see sunlight again. However, one of the peacekeepers keeps aiming his rifle at me and it makes me rather nervous. "Wow, look at him," the woman scans me with her artificial eye; judging from the clear skin around the socket, she was born without it.
"God... how can he withstand all these injuries?" another Warden gets her point.
The truth is I probably look pretty bad. I was right - now, when the adrenaline is gone, I feel all the pain from all the wounds I received since morning. I can hardly stumble forward and the bullet wounds are taking its toll. In the end, one of the Wardens has to support me. It's humiliating, but necessary.
I see two Warden aircrafts, elegant aerial vessels toned into black and blue, on the ground close to the tunnel. The AVIA vessels belonging to Nightingale's thugs are also there - one of them is damaged after a crash landing, the other one appears undamaged. However, they didn't go without a fight. The surface of the Warden aurcrafts has been penetrated by the chaingun bullets.
"He needs a Fix. Immediately," the woman remarks again, mentioning the nanobot therapy which should get me back on my feet. "That guy literally became a bullet sponge."
"What the hell keeps him on his feet?" her colleague wonders.
"I have to get the vials to one specific person," I rasp. "Zoya... or Tempest. Promise me you'll get me to her immediately after I pull myself together."
"No promises, man," another Warden tells me. "I've heard Tempest is missing."
"What...? Missing?"
He nods. "She hasn't been seen for a few days now. I'm sure she'll emerge somewhere soon, maybe she needs to take a break after her partner died. We'll keep you updated."
"Thanks."
The Wardens carry me to one of the aircrafts and seat me there. They immediately take off. The woman, apparently some kind of medic, takes a syringe out of her satchel and injects its content into me. The pain miraculously ceases, but both my vision and mind becomes blurry.
"You should have waited!" her colleague scolds her; his voice comes seemingly from far, far away. "We don't know where the vials are - or if he has them at all! Maybe he's just one of Nightingale's agents and this is all acted up to get him somewhere where he can attack a sensitive spot."
"Come on, can you imagine the agony he's going through?" the woman retorts. "He deserves some painkillers. Besides that, we can handle him if he goes wild, but I don't think it will happen any time soon. First we fix him, then we'll ask questions. Agreed?"
The man just groans something unintelligible.
"In my... back," I say feebly. "Open it. A box... taped..."
I can't talk any more and the Wardens are confused at first. Then, the woman understands and removes my tattered shirt. For a while, she struggles with the lock which opens the hollow in my back. "Damn, it's damaged," she mutters. "I don't want to hurt him..."
Her male colleague doesn't have such limitations. He shakes the lock until it opens with a slight hiss; I can feel my bionic heart inside reacting to the violent entry. "God, what are you doing?!" the woman shrieks. "Leave it to me or he gets hurt."
She carefully reaches inside, gently removing the box taped to the inside of the hollow. "He was telling the truth," she whispers as she opens the box. The last thing I see before I pass out are two vials, undamaged, ready to decide the fate of Europe.
Well, I guess the local habitués didn't expect a bloodied, bruised and half-naked Castaway girl to run (or stumble, to be more precise) through their pub. For a second, they have no idea what to do. Then, one of them finally shouts: "A runaway from the arena! Get her!"
Some of the drunkards try to stop me, but I'm still fit enough to escape them. I run towards the main entrance - if I make it there, I'm safe. The streets are full of people who will be, hopefully, willing to help.
Just a little bit closer... yes! I'm out.
However, another problem emerges - a luxurious black car parked in front of the pub whose name is, as I can see, Studený peklo. It has something to do with hell, but I'm not yet fluent in Czech.
The car's door open and I see Bureš, the rat-faced man, getting out, accompanied by two stout bodyguards. His eyes burn with hate as he spots me, but he's careful. He's aware he can't just abduct me again on a busy street, and that plays in my favor.
As fast as possible, I run on the street, screaming "POMOC!" at the top of my lungs - I already remember the Czech cry for help. The people start to turn to me and that's what I needed. I hear surprised, shocked mumbling and I catch the name Tempest several times.
Finally, some older gentleman in a suit stops me. "Proboha... co se ti stalo?" he asks.
"I need to see mr. Jaroslav Havel as soon as possible. Please," I burst out.
The man switches to decent English. "I think I should take you to the hospital first."
"No, that's okay, I'm still standing. I need to see him quick."
The man shrugs and undresses his jacket, handing it to me. I gladly accept it - even though it's warm outside, I feel both cold and embarassed. The jacket is too big for me, but offers the much needed comfort. I take a look over my shoulder - Bureš's car is gone.
My Samaritan offers me a ride in his car and I accept once again. Too late I realize the man can be a Yeoman or even Bureš's ally, but fortunately, it doesn't seem so. During our journey to the Wenceslas Square, he kindly asks me about what happened and who roughed me up like this. I can only answer in scrappy sentences since the pain and the blood loss are taking its toll.
"Are you sure I shouldn't take you to the hospital first?" he asks me, giving me a worried look.
"N-no... it's important. I have to... meet Mr. Havel first," I reply, trying to fight the shivering and overall focusing on looking less miserable than I really do.
Finally, we arrive on the spot. As I get up, I notice the bloody stains on the man's car seat and jacket. "I...I will give you money... to clean it," I say, but the man ignores it. He supports me as we walk towards Mr. Havel's office, dragging attention of the bypassers.
When I finally reach my destination, I can hardly stand on my feet. Proboha, Jaroslav Havel mouths as he sees me, desolated, half-naked and barely conscious. Then he just spontanneously hugs me, not minding the stains on his clean white shirt. "Zoya... so you made it," he whispers. "No need to explain, I know everything. I am responsible for it. I'm an old, idealistic idiot."
Havel thanks the man who saved me and hands him a cashcard with some royals which the savior refuses. Then, my step-father gives me some water to drink. Even though I'd love to chug all the water at once, I take careful sips to prevent myself from getting sick.
"I'm sorry for everything, Zoya," Havel says as he helps me undress the tattered costume and clean the worst wounds. I don't even mind being naked in front of him. Damn, I don't mind anything at all since I'm not strong enough for it.
"I need... context," I rasp.
"And you'll get it, once you get well," the man nods. "And also, we'll settle score with Bureš."
...
Ugh, I hate this so much.
I'm closed in a chamber similar to the one used for magnetic resonance, except that I'm fully enclosed, like in a coffin or a tanning salon. The claustrophobia is, however, only one of the bad things.
Sterile blue light is shining at me; the scanners above me are creating a complete image of my body, noticing even the slightest wound, bruise or fracture. To make the scan as accurate as possible, I'm not wearing any clothes - yes, it feels weird and embarassing.
But the worst part is yet to come.
The procedure nicknamed "Fix" is rather expensive and mostly used only in cases where a normal treatment would take too long. I've undergone it a few times already, but it doesn't make the procedure any less unpleasant. Finally, the blue light stops moving; the scan seems to be complete.
Then, I feel a wave of obnoxious prickling in my left arm as a squadron of countless nanobots entered my body through the needle stuck in my forearm. The tingling soon engulfs my whole body as the microscopical machines venture on their way to heal my wounds.
Soon, the tingling changes into pain.
I clench my teeth and have to hold back screams as the nanobots start to do their job. Using their tiny, yet miraculous tools, they remove the damaged or necrotic cells from my wounds and use the data from my DNA to replace them with identical, healthy ones.
The smaller cuts and bruises disappear quickly - it's almost miraculous to see how they close seemingly by themselves and then disappear from my skin completely. The larger gashes are a different story - and the bullet wound is the worst of all.
It takes a lot of new cells to repair all the tissue the bullet destroyed. And it also takes awfully long. At least I can watch the hole in my body being slowly filled with new flesh and skin, layer by layer. Even though the wound is gone, the work of nanobots isn't over yet. They also have to recreate the tiny veins and nerves, to make the replaced part "alive" again and prevent it from necrotizing.
The part with connecting the nerves is pure joy, trust me.
It involves a lot of stinging, like they wanted to make sure the regenerated part feels again. God, I hate this so much. For how long am I here already? Two hours? Or maybe it's just half an hour or so, but the boredom and unpleasant feelings make it seem much longer.
Then, finally, all the stinging and pricking ceases and I only feel a final wave of tingling as the nanobots leave my body through my bloodstream. I exhale in relief as the chamber finally opens and the needle is removed from my forearm. The prick heals immediately thanks to special chemicals in the needle.
I sit on the edge of the chamber, feeling dizzy, weary and disoriented - I'll stay like this for a day or two. Another drawback of the Fix. However, when I look at my body, there are no signs of the injuries I received. All the bruises, cuts from Petra's knife and even the bullet wound are gone. And so is the pain, even though the repaired bits feel really strange until the body gets used to them.
For those who are curious, Ryan once explained that the Fix is basically a controlled cancerous growth - the nanobots force the cell to replicate rapidly, just like the cancer cell, but the growth is completely controlled and is stopped once there are enough cells to repair the injury. If a cell displays any unusual behavior, it is immediately destroyed. However, the process tires and exhausts the patients since the cell replication, especially at such fast rate, consumes a lot of energy.
My clothes are folded next to the chamber - a comfortable sports underwear, a simple black T-shirt and knee-long shorts. I put it all on and wait for the nurse who gives me a vitamin shot which is supposed to return me some of the lost energy. And really, I feel a lot better when it starts to work.
I meet Mr. Havel on the hospital hallway. "So? How do you feel, Zoya?" he asks me with a smile. "Is it better? It should be."
"Yeah, I just feel a bit weird, like after every Fix... but it will go away soon," I return him the smile. "Damn, I'm hungry. Can I get something to eat? When I was kept in Bureš's prison, I didn't have anything to eat and I'm starving. Feels good to be free again."
"Of course, and everything is on me," Havel replies. "We have a lot of things to discuss."