The End of the Road

Rebirth

[Rebirth]

His body lay in the square middle of that makeshift road. He fell quite radically, that boy; somersaulting as he collapsed. At his fall, the snow fall stopped as well, as if he was the trigger. The strong wind that blew against the road ceased and the temperature rose to a neat 25o. The ice shards and snow crystals sizzled into water and neatly flowed away in well planned drains. The artificial sun shut down with a hum and several tube lights flickered on.

"Wow!" boomed a manly voice over a speaker, "you survived a solid six hours in there. Umm...............six hours 33 minutes before you fell to be exact; that's quite a record!"

The body lay unmoving.

"Hey," continued the voice, "You flat out?"

The boy still didn't budge.

"Hey!" said the voice, now laced with alarm, "Alert! Can someone get a medic? I think he's passed out..." the man called out.

"Who wouldn't after that torture?" another voice said, barely heard through the speaker, "The medics are on their way."

"Hmm....ggfff" mumbled the body, trying to get on his feet. He finally managed to kneel, but his body swayed groggily, and he got down on all fours to steady himself. Somewhere there was a hiss as an airtight door swung open and air from the pressured chamber escaped.

"He's up!" cried a medic to his partner, "He's conscious." His partner followed him in through the door. "What! He's up after all we put him through! Damn it's been six hours!"

"I guess the rumours where right," said the medic, crouching down next to the boy, and opening his bag. "His body is too unnatural. He might just be an extra-terrestrial."

The boy got on his knees and glared at the medic. The doc seemed very serious, and not in the least playful about that extra-terrestrial remark. They were digging dirt about him right in front of his face, while checking his pulse for irregularities.

"Why yes! He does seem to have quite unnatural a complexion. Not to mention the hair and eyes," they continued. "Why I believe, it's too dangerous to give him so much freedom. If he's one of the alien forces, he could easily be sending vital info back to the enemies..."

The boy seethed with disgust and anger. He was tired of people thinking of him as some outwardly creature. He didn't ask to be born this way. He slapped away the syringes, needles and bottles, and kicked hard at one of the medics, who buckled backwards, coughing blood.

Then he grabbed a bottle of sweet white powder from the medic's bags. The label on it read 'Glucose'. Clutching his last lifeline, he ran, pushing the other doc down on the way.

He swore to himself, he would escape from this hell somehow. He would get out of the mess he made for himself. He swore.

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