107

CHAPTER TEN

I sat on the floor in my quarters staring at the tiny containers. I kept counting them over and over; 19. I kept trying to figure something out but always came up with the same conclusion; I have to double my doses.

I took two containers and the syringe. The syringe was stuck in one and sucked all the antidote and then the same with the other. 12 doses taken. I sighed then plunged it into my neck as I closed my eyes tightly. As if that would help in any way. I normally got a numbing feeling, like pins and needles. This was different. I dropped to the floor as soon as the antidote was in my system. I couldn't move a muscle. I had lost all control of my body. I was shaking and I could hear my pulse ringing through my ears. It was getting alarmingly fast. Then the pain came. The most agony I had ever felt, and I had experienced my fair share of pain. Screams escaped my mouth. I squeezed my lips shut. I couldn't even move my hands to block or even muffle the screams. I caught a glimpse of my reflection on the cold marble tiles. Every vein in my body was pulsating and glowing brighter than before. The agony was too much to handle and I prayed with my every being to black out or even just die. Black shapeless vapor blocked my vision.  Finally, the room started spinning and the lights over me started to dim. The noises outside became unrecognizable. Blackness.
After all I've been through and what I did, I died from an overdose.
                                                      *********

Well, I guess the universe was kind enough to have me not die from an overdose...

Whispers of my shadow-companions were still in my ears but I calmed them when I was conscious enough. I was still on the cold floor. If anyone had come in while I was looking like that, they would have either thought I was on drugs or I tried to kill myself.

Sarah, Jackson and Adam Blake. Oh God! I did know them. Remember when I said before that we used to live next door to a werewolf family? They moved away when I was 5 or 6 and I never heard anything about them again. Adam, Nash and I used to play together all the time but after they left, they slowly faded away from our memories and both of us eventually forgot them. Why the hell were they on the agenda?

No. I'm not killing them. I will die before I barge into their home and murder an innocent family. I will keep taking the doses and if I don't finish them on time, I will kill myself. How hard can killing myself be? I've been killing others for 3 years. And for all I know, I would be taking the life of the one person I am certain deserves death.
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I took a double shot everyday. Each was as agonizing as the other. I had taken 26 by the seventh day. I felt like my body was dying. Everyone I had once completely dominated in combat were slowly taking me down. My simulations became embarrassing. Even though I was screwing up all my trainings, my assignment was not revoked for some God forsaken reason.
I decided it was best if I gave my body a rest and laid off the doses for 4 days, just enough for me to be able to stand up without having to lean on the wall.

4 days later, I started my shots again. I had 3 days to take the remainder of the 29. 26 down, 3 to go. Since I'd been off the antidote for a while, I started again with 1 dose. The next day I took the last 2 so that on third day I wouldn't be looking like a walking dead person because I took the last dosage on the same day I leave.

The last shot was fine for a while. I guessed it's because my body had grown familiar with the substance. Then... The pain kicked in. And then I fainted. At least the pain wasn't as traumatizing as the first double shot.

On the day of my departure, I packed all my valuable belongings. I was planning on never coming back. I was no longer under their restrictions. I could leave. After I packed, I headed to the armory and chose a retractable sword, one gun, one striker gun and a few extra bullets, aside from the few small daggers I always have strapped under my clothes during missions. But really, you didn't need a weapon at all when you were born one.

"Ready, agent Ashburn?" Peter came from behind me.
"Ready." Just not for what they expect me to do.

I rode the helicopter, placed my stuff on the over head compartment and strapped on.

A few hours later, we were landing on the deserted outskirts of the Eastern Republic. Of course you would be wondering why they're not suspicious that I wasn't dead by then since I'm out of the base's reach. When we were sent on missions, they would expand our limited moving restrictions by loosing up the bond placed on me by the potion. There are a lot of steps to do that but that's the outcome anyways. I stepped outside and was handed the gear. The pilot nodded at me twice to which I responded with one nod. Our signals that I was all set and that he could leave.

The Red Brothers society was composed of the most arrogant of people. They thought they were the strongest, smartest, and most feared beasts in the jungle. And like any beast so full of its self, they didn't doubt themselves and didn't think they should take extra precautions. They never doubted their system. They depend on the supposed fact that they are feared enough that no one would even dare to try and outsmart them. A little stupid if you asked me.

They didn't implant any trackers on me since they thought that if I tried to get out of my designated reach, I would spontaneously drop dead as a door nail. I chuckle to myself at that thought. I watched the helicopter fly away. "I hope you all go to hell," I said quietly.

I walked for a while following the map I was given. I had to warn the Blakes somehow. But how can I contact them without exposing myself as an agent gone rogue? The Brothers will take time to process my escape. I would go home first to make sure they won't retaliate and hurt Nash. I would contact them somehow once I knew Nash was well out of their reach. I walked some more then the thought of Luke and Judith struck me making my heart sink to my knees. Some paths I will have to take alone. I had to save myself first so I can go back for them. And I will go back for them.

I finally reached civilization. I pulled my hood up and walked among the civilians like I was one of them. I wasted no time and went straight to the market to try to hitch a ride to anywhere close to the Northern Isles. I couldn't teleport myself that far away especially when I've got nothing from home to help me pinpoint my destination.

I edged nearer to a trader to try and hear about any transportation. After almost a 3 hours of wandering aimlessly, I came across a civilian asking about the merchandise that will be taken to the Western kingdom, which was close enough to the Northern Isles.  Whoever named these kingdoms had certainly never used a proper compass before. I went closer carefully. The truck was set to depart by nightfall today. I looked up to the sky. Thank you.

I spent the rest of daylight looking around the market for the spot the truck is supposed to leave from.
"By the Bag O' Chips restaurant," the trader had said. I asked around for where it was then headed to it. I sat down and ordered a plate of fish and chips to shut my stomach up.

After about another 4 hours of doing absolutely nothing, I saw the truck pull up and start to pick up the goods. Just as the automatic door was closing, I teleported myself inside after trying to catch a glimpse of the inside. I could only teleport myself to somewhere I've been before or I've been this close to.

The inside of the truck was filled with everything from silk to pots and medicine. It was dark inside but I was thankful for the tiny glass window by the side. I opened it, careful to make no noise. The fresh air was magnificent.

I was going home. I was going back to Nash.

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