Safe

4- Ducts

PAST-TENSE (Temporary)

I woke up with something sharp embedded in my back. What? I felt around until I grabbed a hold of the object. It was attached to a metal bar, which, when I turned around, came out of the hole in the air vent that I'd crawled through earlier. It was a needle! They were injecting me with something! I pulled it out, crawling deeper into the duct. A warm, sticky liquid ran down my back. Blood. I ignored it, but after five minutes my shirt started to stick to my back, and I began to feel lightheaded. I realized then that I still had the medical tape on my hands that was used to keep the IV's from the drip in my veins from before. I pulled the sticky tape off of my hand, wiping my back with my shirt. Carefully, I was able to cover the puncture with the tape. I continued crawling, sneezing and coughing from the dust that had gathered in the old, dark ducts.

"She's escaped, we have the needle," a masculine voice penetrated the thin metal. I pressed my ear to the floor. "Was it in long enough?" A female voice asked. "No, only for around a minute. It may alter her perception, but even that is unlikely," the male said. It sounded like Jake. "No! Well, she's new. They usually try to escape. But never like this..." the woman trailed off. "Never mind. Quarantine the building. No one's coming in or out." She laughed. Quarantine? I'll never make it out in time! I began to crawl faster, a light in the ducts appearing. Outside. I never thought I'd see the sunlight again. I crawled even faster, and a red light began to flash. A light on the side of the building, followed by a deafening siren. "This building is under quarantine. Please do not leave the premises," a feminine voice said. I panicked, my veins turning the same, glowing blue that came with adrenaline. I reached the grate, but a metal cover was beginning to descend. I tried to shove my way out, but to no avail. I turned around, kicking as hard as I could with my legs. No use. Screws lined the grate, fastening it into place. 

I looked around frantically. And then I remembered. In my pocket, a Swiss Army Knife, Advanced Model IV. But they'd have checked my pockets. Unless... perhaps they kept it there to gain my trust, and expected me to be too weak to attempt to escape. I reached in my pocket. Bingo. But the metal cover was already over an inch over the top of the grate. I hastily unscrewed the bottom screws, doing the same with the top. I gathered my strength and successfully kicked the bottom of the grate open. The metal cover blocked the top, and was descending quickly. While my entire ordeal had taken little more than a minute, the cover was slow. I squeezed out of the bottom of the grate. The cool air felt good on my face, invigorating me. My fingers began to slip as my sweat beaded at the bottom of the air duct. The metal cover was inches from crushing my fingers, and I was at least 20 feet off the ground. I closed my eyes and let go.

I landed on my stomach, knocking the wind out of myself. Luckily, nothing was broken. My ribs ached badly, and my arm twisted oddly, as did my foot. I gingerly stood up, nursing my injured arm and leg. I limped away from the building, tripping often. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Logan and Jake, followed by two men, running towards me. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself into a run. The veins around the sore parts of my arm and foot turning a dark brown color. I cried in pain, forcing myself on into the surrounding woods. If I just made it to the school- I felt an arm on my shoulder. "Jake," I said, wincing, "stop." Then strong arms lifted me, tucking my body carefully against a broad chest. "Jake?" I questioned, hot tears running down my cheeks. Jake didn't answer, he just took off at a run. "Direct me," he said strictly. "Left at the birch, and then right at the large oak coming up. Cut across the section of -ouch- vines, and then-" I continued directing Jake to the school. I looked over his shoulder. Logan and the two men were hot on our heels, Logan calling for Jake repeatedly. 

We reached the school, but Jake kept on running. "Nearest train station," he said. I told him where it was, and he seemed ready to collapse by the time we'd reached the metro station. The Bullet III, the fastest train around, floated on the tracks in front of us. It soundlessly came to a halt, people piling on by the dozen. Logan would never be able to find us here. "What are you doing?" I asked Jake. "Just play along," he said, ignoring my question yet again. People checked their cards in the scanners, automated train attendants punching holes through the thin plastic. "Card, please," one of the female  robots asked. "Please," Jake said worriedly, "it's my sister." He gestured to me. "She's injured herself, and I need to get her to a hospital. This is the fastest way, and my card is at my house. Help her, please!" The attendant looked at him with its calm, blue, glass eyes. "Age, please," the robot asked. "18. Birth date is November 14," he said. His eyes darted frantically around the room, beads of sweat wetting his hairline. "Thank you. Proper identification will need to be established after the female is stable. Address?" "14 Draft Drive," he said. "Thank you. Please take your seat. Your address will be verified on our trip. You will reach Quest Hospital in 15.32 minutes." 

Jake carefully sat me down in the back, joining the seat next to mine. No one else was back here. "What about Logan?" I asked. "Don't worry," Jake said, "the train door automatically closes and locks after 58 passengers board, unless you're with a group. And Logan isn't with us. So he's having some trouble about now." I looked at the door, watching as Logan and the guards viciously pounded on the glass doors. "Let us in!" Logan growled. I continued watching as another android pulled Logan and the two men back, away from the train. We instantly picked up speed, accelerating to 200 miles per hour in roughly 1.68 seconds. I grabbed Jake's hand, fear shooting through me. "What's the matter, never ridden a train before?" Jake asked. I shook my head. "No," I said shakily. "Now tell me why you're here." 

"I removed my bead, and cleaned my blood with special medication we have, in case we take too much of the initiation serum. Before we come here, the leader of the group shoots you with the bead. It gives you a sort of hallucination, making you believe that the prime minister is evil. If you take too much of the bead injection, you could die. So, I just acted like there was some sort of malfunction and the bead gave me to much. I stumbled about until they told me to 'purify' myself. They said not to totally remove the bead, but I did anyways," he said, "and I never wanted to hurt you. Now that I can think clearly, I can help you." "Okay," I said, "but how did you know to remove the bead?" "The beads need to be replaced once a month. The leaders were too busy trying to capture you to replace mine, and whenever I reminded them, they brushed it off. The bead didn't release enough serum, and my mind de-clouded a bit. I could tell that it was wrong, and when I pulled it out, I was set free. You see, I've been working for them since I was 14. They recruited me because I was intelligent, and trained me well, until I built up enough muscle to become a Strategist. Logan, my cousin, who's 18 and was trained since he was 14, pulled me from my home in East Sussex in the middle of the night and gave me the bead. And then, boom, I was here." 

I stared at him, not knowing whether to believe him or not. "Trust me," he said. His dark, chocolate eyes bored into my soul, forcing me to believe him. "Okay," I said, giving up. I then realized that I'd not released his hand. It was odd, I didn't notice things around him, like my special abilities just powered off. I let go, grabbing the seat handle instead. The entire train was glass, even the seats were clear, so the 100 foot drop below us, only obscured by a four-inch long metal track, was very real. I closed my eyes, sinking into myself, calming myself, and eventually, the smooth, soundless, train lulled me to sleep,