Forever Hollow: To Lucian's Apartment

Now that they have a plan, Lucian has to make it across a GenRep-infested city on the lookout for him with the help of only Agent Small.

Grey Wolfe, Genevieve, and Arcus tiptoed down the back hallway while Small and Lucian went into the restaurant. They passed through the dining room, around old tables with dusty tablecloths and into the kitchen. The stainless steel counters and tables had tarnished from years of disuse. They came to an old aluminum fire door near the walk-in cooler. Small checked his weapon once more before setting his hand on the crash bar.

“Ready?” he asked.

Lucian pulled his Glock out of its holster. He held the gun up by his face, gray eyes all steel. Small pressed on the release lever and inched the door open. Spurts of gunfire already echoed through the night. They crept down the quiet alley, and Small peeked around the corner. He jerked his head back and cursed under his breath.

“They’re all over. No way we can sneak around this one.”

Suddenly, several GenReps hurried down the street. A few of them ran by without noticing either of them in the alley.

“That must be Wolfe,” whispered Small. “We go in ten. Nine, eight, seven...”

Lucian gripped the pistol tightly. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Six, five, four...”

Lucian’s heart beat so rapidly that he thought it might actually break through his ribcage. His breath came in short gasps.

“Three, two...”

God be with us.

“One.”

Small dashed around the corner with Lucian in tow. They had run ten paces before the first GenRep spotted them. With an electric burst, Small dispatched two GenReps a few meters ahead of them. Three other GenReps chased them from behind, and two more started across the street.

“Left,” shouted Lucian as they reached the corner.

They rounded the corner and spotted two more GenReps on the opposite side of the street. The GenReps aimed and fired a few shots. Lucian slipped on a patch of ice on the sidewalk, and the bullets embedded in the brick wall behind him as he hit the pavement. Lucian fired at the two GenReps and missed. He felt a great force yank at the collar of his coat.

“This way,” Small screamed as he crashed through the front window of a large toy store. Lucian jumped in behind him amidst a shower of bullets. Small crashed through the aisles, knocking over shelves and setting various toys to life.

Two GenReps climbed in through window and stalked through the store. Glowing green eyes scanned the store, jumping at the movement of every toy and blasting them into oblivion. They moved cautiously through the deluge of motion. The first GenRep’s fedora flew off its head as an EMP round pierced its metal frame and detonated inside. The greed glow faded from its eyes as it crashed through another shelf. Before the second GenRep could react, another bullet from Small, who had hidden atop an upright shelf behind a life-sized toy IFP soldier, put it down.

“Come on,” he said.

They ran to the back of the store, and Small kicked open the door. They hurried down the back alley and down another street, ducking into a nearby park to catch their breath. Small released the empty magazine from his pistol and cast it aside, replacing a fresh clip into his Desert Eagle.

“How much further?” asked Small.

“This is the park near my place,” wheezed Lucian. “Just a few more blocks east.”

They snuck to the east entrance of the park and looked out. A group of GenReps combed the area to the north. Small took a grenade from his coat pocket and lobbed it over the group of GenReps. When the grenade exploded, the GenReps froze, and Small took off across the street, taking out three GenReps to his right with as many bullets. Lucian hurried behind.

They rounded the corner and headed east again. The snow fell heavily now, and Lucian had a difficult time seeing through the storm. Small fired at two GenReps ahead of them, but Lucian noticed a GenRep on a balcony above Small. Lucian fired several shots up at the GenRep before it slumped over.

“Come on,” yelled Lucian. “Down that alley.” They crossed the street, and Small lobbed another grenade behind them, disabling more GenReps in pursuit.

They hustled down the alleyway, and then turned to run up another. Lucian halted in the darkness and pointed up to a fire escape. They climbed the ladder and then up several levels of stairs to the window of Lucian’s apartment. Lucian tried the window but found it locked. He looked to Small.

“Ready for evac?” Small said into his radio in a low voice, loading another clip into his pistol.

“Roger that,” Gold replied. “Why have a lock on your location.”

Small looked to Lucian. “Get in, get it, and get out.”

Work in Progress: Morrigan ni Feich

I've been working on a new science fiction project. Essentially, the premise of the story centers around the idea of cybernetic attachments to humans. What was initially medical technology became fashion, and people started replacing their body with cybernetic enhancements. Two main factions grew out of this: the cybernetically enhanced human, who became known as the Exelixi, and the purists who believed that the human body shouldn't be tampered with.

I'm currently writing a series of short stories on the backgrounds of the characters in the main story. Here's a little excerpt, forgive the errors:

The front doors to the Feich house burst open, and Morrigan ni Feich stumbled out, down the brick steps, and paused, her breaths coming in quick, deep succession. Her blue eyes darted about under hooded eyes, searching for cover. The pre-adolescent girl settled on the thick hedge near the front porch and disappeared inside. She tried to steady her breathing, but her eyes betrayed the slight panic within.

A young man appeared in the still-open doorway. He stepped out onto the flagstone porch and paused between the Doric columns and scanned the front yard.

“So it’s hide-and-seek now, is it, Morrigan?”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Morrigan watched as the blond-haired boy slowly descended the steps.

“Clever to run and hide when you’re outmatched,” he said. “But how long can you hold out?” He stepped past Morrigan’s hiding spot. “Or are you waiting for the perfect time to ambush me?”

Morrigan lost sight of the boy. She knew that maneuvering for a better view would give away her position, but losing sight of her enemy put her at a different kind of disadvantage. She needed a new plan of attack and quickly. As she processed the situation, eliminating bad ideas and formulating a plan, the young boy’s face filled her view, a sinister grin plastered across his face.

“Found you,” he sang and grabbed a handful of black braids.

The boy yanked Morrigan from the precisely trimmed hedges and threw her to the ground. Morrigan rolled across her shoulders and sprang back to her feet. She settled into a fighting stance, her panic now replaced with cool determination. The young boy sneered.

“So now you want to fight back, huh? Fine. I’ll play that game.”

He raised his fists in a similar fighting stance and attacked. He stepped in and threw a punch, which Morrigan blocked with an outward block and threw a punch of her own. The boy stepped out of the way and struck her with a back kick to the abdomen. Morrigan grunted as her breath left her. She retreated a few steps and regained her breath and composure.

She stepped in with a roundhouse kick, which the boy ducked under, and followed with a back spin kick that grazed his nose. She spun further and threw up knee up, launching her into the air. She let loose a powerful spin kick in the air that caused the boy’s wavy hair dance as he barely managed to duck underneath.

Morrigan threw another punch, which the boy blocked with an inside forearm block. He wrapped his arm around her extended arm and stepped in close. With a quick pop of his hips, he threw Morrigan over him and onto the ground.  With his arm still wrapped around hers, he struck her on the shoulder with the heel of his free hand and locked his other hand onto his wrist, barring her arm. He placed one knee on her ribs and the other on her cheek bone before applying pressure on her arm with his hips.

Morrigan grunted loudly as her face ground into grass and soil.

“You’re weak, Morrigan,” the boy said through strained teeth.

“It’s… not… over,” Morrigan grunted.

She threw her legs up, trying to wrap around the boy’s neck, but she couldn’t catch his head with her feet. She continued to struggle with several more attempts, but the boy applied more pressure to her arm. She felt as though her shoulder and elbow would dislocate any moment, and her vision began to darken around the edges. With her free hand, Morrigan pounded the ground with an open palm and finally gave in.

The young boy released his hold of her and rolled over onto his back.

“You’re still not strong enough,” he said through heavy breaths.

“I’m only twelve, Harrison,” Morrigan argued, massaging her shoulder.

“True, but you don’t listen to everything teacher says. Like your hair for one,” he said tugging on one of her braids.

“I happen to like my braids,” she snatched her braid from Harrison’s grip. “It makes me feel like less of a boy when I have to do all of this fighting.”

“But it makes you an easier target.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “You sound just like my parents.”

“They’re just trying to look out for their only child. You can’t be too careful around here.”

Morrigan sighed. “I know.”

She stared up at the steel girders and feet-thick glass that were barely discernible so high up in the sky. Dark clouds churned outside the dome. It had always been like that, at least as far back as Morrigan remembered.

“One day,” Morrigan thought aloud. “Maybe one day we won’t have to live like this. Maybe one day we’ll be treated better.”

Harrison laughed. “And we don’t even have it that bad. We live on the good side of Southampton. We only have to live with dirty looks and the occasional slur. Across town, though, I’ve heard the Nobles can get pretty rough.”

“Nobles,” Morrigan scoffed. “They’re no more than a bunch of mechanical—“

Screeching tires interrupted Morrigan. She and Harrison looked up as two car doors slammed. Her parents both walked with purpose toward them.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Feich,” Harrison said, smiling at them. “How are you today?”

“Hello, Harrison,” Morrigan’s father, Blayne, said tersely. “Listen, uh, Harrison. We have some things to take care of. You should probably head on home.”

“Is everything okay?” Morrigan asked.

A quick glance from Blayne to his wife answered her question.

“We have to take care of a few things, sweetheart,” Blayne said, helping Morrigan to her feet. Her led her to the house, leaving Harrison and Mavis behind.

“Harrison,” Mavis began. “You know we really appreciate you looking after Morrigan.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harrison raised to his feet.

Mavis glanced around nervously. “Well, Harrison…” She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you.”

“What’s going on, Mrs. Feich?”

“Nothing, dear,” she replied quickly. “Just run on home. We have some family business.”

“Okay.” Harrison looked on curiously as Mavis hurried into the house.