Weapons

Chapter 12

I promptly sit up and glance downward. All the leather straps seem to be ripped. The bright light above me is flashing. People in white uniforms dash around inside the building, accompanied by loud alarms. Likewise, I look over at Don, who's already off the table.

He's barely recognizable to me. I know it's him because of the birthmark on his left cheek. He's taller, taller than me, and he appears older. He looks like a young adult, 19 or 20 years old, maybe. Furthermore, he's not skinny or fat, but muscular.

The only things that are different about him are his shape, height, and he has a bit of facial hair now. “Get up, hurry,” he says. “Did you take the leather belts off” I ask him. “No, they ripped when you sat up,” he answers. He's still wearing his hospital gown, although it looks shorter on him than it did when he first put it on.

I see him unhooking all of his IVs and I do the same. As I rip the needles out of my arms, I realize I can't feel pain. It doesn't hurt. I look up and see a man wearing a white uniform staring at me, frozen in his steps. He appears terrified.

I hop off the table and run after Don, who's trying to find a way out. How do I know that? How do I know what he's trying to do? We come to a door we need a key card for in order to get out of the metal room. Don kicks the large and heavy door; I watch as the door flies off the hinges and several feet in front of us.

We get to another set of double doors. This time I decide to see if I can do the same that Don can do. I push both the doors with everything I have, and they fly at least 6 meters down the hall. At the end of the hall, a large group of men wearing white uniforms with guns come running toward us. They start to aim their guns at us and Don runs toward them.

I follow closely behind him. One of the men tries to hit Don. He dodges his efforts, grabs his head, and snaps his neck. The man, limp, falls to the floor. The other men appear fearful for their lives, although persistent in their efforts to neutralize me and Don. I punch one man in the chest and my fist goes through his chest cavity.

I feel invincible; I feel powerful. How am I able to achieve this? Don and I make our way through the large group of men. There are men falling to the ground left and right. Finally, Don and I each grab a gun and continue to make our way down the hall.

We pass several doors and halls. We pass the bedroom we shared. What about Miss? Katherine? She was the kindest person here. I'd want to let her know that we're okay.

We continue to run and come to a large wall full of pictures with tables under them. Don and I decide to stop and take a look. I see a picture of Doctor Morbien with his hair tied back. Under his picture is a gold plate saying “successful lead scientist 1881-1959”. There's a blank board with another gold plate that says, “Dr. Clarke Morbien 1956.”

It doesn't have another date, so it must mean he's still alive. He must be Dr. Morbien's grandson. “We have to go,” Don communicates telepathically. Don and I proceed to run down the hall. The lights on the ceiling continue to flash, and the alarms seemingly get louder.

We reach an iron door similar to the entrance I remember from when we arrived. Don punches a large hole through the door. He steps through it. I can't believe we're finally getting out of here. We're free; we can live normal, happy lives now. As I step through it, I feel something tug me back.

Likewise, I turn to look and it's one of the staff members. “Run,” I tell him through my mind. “I'm not leaving you,” he says aloud. Don jumps back through the hole and grabs the man. He shoves the man's head through the wall, leaving remains from his insides on the floor.

I step through the hole with Don following closely behind me. It's bright outside; I can't feel the warmth of the sun. Normally, I'd probably be able to feel the sun beating through my hospital gown, but I can't. Don and I run as fast as we can through the green woodlands. We pass the trees far faster than the average human would.

We're faster and stronger than we were before. Likewise, we can also communicate telepathically. How is this possible? What did they do to us? It doesn't feel like we've been running that long, although we can longer see the massive building we've just escaped from.

I've had it wrong this whole time. There was never anyone coming to save us. We have to save ourselves. We keep running, although we should be out of breath or needing to take a break. Likewise, I feel fine; I feel like I can run for hours longer. “Where are we going” I ask Don while continuing to run.

“Somewhere far away from here,” he replies telepathically. We've been running for 30 minutes and are at least 18 kilometers from “the hospital.” Don stops. “Do you hear that”? "Yes, where's it coming from” I ask.

There are loud gusts of wind coming from somewhere nearby. I hear noises developing from engines. We continue to run toward the noise and come to a stop at a wide black road with yellow lines in the middle. I've never seen a road like this before. A small silver vehicle comes down the street and stops in front of us.

The man rolls his passenger window down. He looks at us differently. He's dark skinned with black hair, and brown eyes. The man appears to be in his late 20s. “Do you need a ride” he asks. “Yes, please,” Don answers.

“Get in,” he says as he unlocks his doors. Don gets in the passenger seat and I sit behind him. “Where to” he asks as he drives off. “We require different attire,” I answer. “You talk differently,” he says as he glances at our hospital gowns.

“I don't like hospitals either,” he continues. “What's your name” Don asks. “Harlem, what's your names” Harlem replies. “Should we tell him our names” I ask Don telepathically. “No, we can't trust him,” Don responds.

“What kind of automobile is this,” I ask Harlem. “It's called a Lincoln,” he replies with a chuckle. “Have you both been living under a rock the past 100 years” he asks as a joke. “What year is it” Don asks. “Are you messing with me” he responds.

“No” I counter. “It's 2011” he answers. “Did you guys just feel that earthquake” Harlem suggests. Don and I stay quiet. Harlem seems like a good person.

I'm curious why someone could be so friendly and happy. “The nearest department store is about an hour away, so we'll be in the car for a while,” he says. I take a deep breath in and exhale. We've finally escaped and we're together. We're safe now.