Survival (ON HOLD)

c h a p t e r e i g h t

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

-Seneca

"Are you trying to tell me that the battery of the screen was spiked with real hydrofluoric acid?"

"It was it, I'm sure!"

"But that's impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible when it's related to science and ongoing discoveries," I reason out while effectively shutting out the chatter in the room.  I'm not accompanied with Elias today; he had to go over to the ACW to look after some management problems, so I was left alone to fend for myself today.

It's not been easy, of course. The past few days have been even more stressful than before. My body is still sore from the poison I inhaled in the graveyard. Mrs Franc has been ever so polite to take care of me, with Mr Franc stoically asking me about my health and apologising for his intruding behaviour.

It hasn't been that comfortable with the Rudibus', of course. Hate messages have been regular. "You deserved to die!", "My son deserved to survive the graveyard, not you, filthy Urbanus!". These are one of the most common types of hate I received recently. 

Elias seemed, to put it in lame man's terms, pissed off. He even refused to go to his own work and wanted to accompany me till here. The conversation almost turned into an argument:

"But what if they attack you? You've barely recovered, I'm telling, you shouldn't go-"

"I'm fine, Elias. I can take care of myself."

"Yes, you did, and ended up almost dying!"

"I'll be fine. Don't worry, yeah?"

I focus back on the problem at hand: the battery.

It's not even a problem, actually. Just life's decision to knock me over.

"So, what has been the observation?"

"It is hydrofluoric acid, ma'am. Confirmed."

"Anything else to add?"

"Nothing else, ma'am."

"You all are excused."

They all shuffle out, the boys glancing at me and whispering to each other while they left. I resisted the urge to shut the door in their faces because that would be just not right for me and my job.

I look at the broken down screen. It was my Grandmother's. The last thing I had of her. 

Poisoned.

Now is not the time to get sappy, Alice. Get your shit together.

The contents of the screen are being transferred onto another screen, and till then, I have to wait.

I want to go back home and rest, to let my racing mind slow down, but I know I cannot neglect my duties for selfish needs.

That's not what an Urbanus does.

I walk out, and towards the other side of this complex, to reach my office.

They don't like me there. 

This current situation isn't going to help my chances of safety.

I still stalk off to the building,

I take out my badge and clutch it in my hands; at least I have something to hold on. 

I approach the door, enter and show my badge to the robot guard. Passing through the cleanliness monitor, and resisting to uncharacteristically giggle once more, I start climbing the stairs to my office, without even sparing a glance to the others who are staring at me with their wide eyes; like a hawk spotting its prey.