G.U.A.R.D. Book #2: Aberrations

-17-

    Wind rammed into my body. My hair was going crazy. Watering eyes. Ouch.

The energy field surrounding Point 36 momentarily blocked my vision: all I could see were white clouds. Then a zap of energy flew up my spine, and I was outside the energy field. The air was colder outside, and wind whipped hard at my face and inside my lungs, making it difficult to breathe—even harder to keep my eyes open. The noise was so loud it hurt. My ears popped from the pressure change, making it worse.

As cold creeped through the flaps in my clothes, I slowly started to regret my decision. Maybe I shouldn't have taken that jump. Wasn't the smartest decision I've ever made. After all, my chances of survival weren't looking that good with this choice, and worse, I was anticipating it.

My mouth dried and drooled at the same time, which seemed contradictory. Opening my eyes was pretty much impossible. That made everything worse. My heart jumped crazily, waiting for the impact at any moment. So I felt around my pant pockets, trying to locate anything that could cover them. When I got to the binoculars, I carefully peeled back the zipper and grasped the object with a tight grip. Then I put it to my eyes.

It wasn't perfect, and my eyes still felt dry, but I could crack them open a little. The land below was flat. There were only a few hills, and trees covered them. A road stood off in the distance, and many, many League cars were parked around the area, but luckily not the area that I was falling to. But, then, would that be unlucky? I mean, if they saw me, wouldn't they try to save me? Whole kidnapping-for-some-unknown-thing-they-want thing? Instead, I was falling to my death. I would probably be punctured by one of the evergreen trees. The news would have a field day with that story.

"Seventeen-year-old missing teenager finally found with a tree trunk through his spleen."

Wonder if that's ever happened before.

Focus, Light! I scolded myself. Cindy did not save you so you could die an unusual death.

But what could I do? As the ground came closer, I started panicking, and in a vain attempt to slow down my speed, I unzipped my black jacket and slipped my arms from the sleeves. Then I grabbed the sides of the material and tried to make it catch the air. I quickly lost a grasp of it, though.

"Ah!"

I reached out an arm to grab it again, but it flew away. Miraculously, my binoculars were still in my hand.

I ran my dry tongue over my chapped, blue lips. I could barely feel my hands, they were so cold. Squinting through the binoculars again, I tried to find anything that could help me. I adjusted the knobs several times to get a better picture of the landscape below. My hands kept shaking. The binoculars hit my forehead more times than I could count.

Spying a commotion to the side, I glanced towards the League camp. Most of the agents seemed at ease, talking to each other like old chums. But there were a few on the very edge of the encampment who seemed excited about something.

One pointed towards my direction. A chill flew up my spine. Was that good or not?

The biggest one nodded and lifted a long tube, putting its back to his shoulder. A gun. Oh, crud.

He looked through the eyepiece to aim. Gasping, I lowered the binoculars and gazed at him. Bad move. The air hit my eyeballs like a train, and I closed them, shivers racking my body. Next thing I knew, a large circular object collided with my back. The air was knocked out my lungs, swallowing the yell that exited my throat. The object sprouted eight long, skinny, metal legs and wrapped around my feet, legs, stomach, and chest in a tight, mummy-like position of imprisonment.