To Suffer Without Dying

Ch.3: Taken

     The sky was an ominous dark gray. Bits of ash calmly floated downwards, resting on the dead branches and leaves of the trees. The temperature dropped. Snow begins to fall. A dirty, ugly snow, not a pristine white. And on that snow, rested something that would change the world.

Louis

     Sharp branches scraped against my cold skin as I ran into the forest. The kid I was following was fast and nimble, leaping like a fox over logs and stones, as I either ran around them or ungracefully stumbled over them.  Once in a while an arrow (some of the Loyalists used a bow and arrow) or a bullet would whiz by me. Ash kept falling down along with snow. I could see my breath. Racing down the hill, the kid whirled around and pulled out a pistol and aimed towards me. I halted in my tracks. "WHOA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!" I screamed. I dived out of the way into a small rock outcropping and he fired.  A Loyalist's body  rolled down into the small area. As I peeked out, I saw a flash of yellow and heard a loud electric buzzing. A Loyalist ran by  with the weapon in hand and aimed it at the kid. "Stop!" he yelled. The kid slowly turned around. Before my eyes, he charged at the soldiers with nothing. The Loyalist holding the electric gun fired a blue orb at the kid. It hit him in the shoulder with a buzz and a sizzle and he collapsed. A bag was quickly thrown over his head and he was dragged off. Well... what now? I asked myself. The leaves were slippery with snow and ice. I slid a few times while crawling out. A few gun shots in the distance told me to go the other way. 

Mikhail

     A bright flash woke me up. I coughed and tried to move my hands a feet; I was tied to a surgeons table. Glancing around the room, I saw a table with a small computer and two men sitting at the table. They were talking about me. "Eye color?"                                                                                                      "Grey."                                                                                                                                                                       "Hair color? Skin Color? Country of origin? Birthday?"                                                                             "Brown. Caucasian. Chechnya. February 15, 2000. He is perfect for a test."                                 "Agreed."                                                                                                                                                                               Their voices had a heavy Russian accent. I coughed louded to get their attention. "Oy, razvyazat' mne drug!" (Oi, untie me friend!) They both glared at me then went back to their work. I began to try to reach my ankle where I always kept my knife. I couldn't reach it. After laying there for a while, another soldier came in and wheeled me off into some dark padded room with several syringes in a glass case with the bio toxin thingy on it. A woman wearing a lab coat and gloves and a gas mask entered the room and opened a laptop and began typing away. The glass case popped open with a hiss. She took out a syringe and unwrapped it. Inside was a grey liquid. She walked over to me and rolled up my sleeve. I glanced at her name tag on the lab coat. It read:  Kale Boomgarten ph.D. She was young, about 20. Average German, I thought. Blonde hair and blue eyes.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   "Relax. It won't hurt." she said.                                                                                                                                 "I'm not so sure," I responded. She slowly inserted the syringe into my veins. She walked out soon after and another person untied me and gave me a tray of food and a glass of water. I ate and drank. When I finished, I was ushered off into a small room with 10 other people in it. The door, made of thick metal, was locked and several Loyalist leaders looked in at us though a thick pane of glass. I moved to a corner and stayed away from the other people. They were disgusting looking. 

"Start the test." A Loyalist officer demanded. The ceiling in the chamber clicked open revealing a system of tubes and valves and vents.

"It's a gas chamber." I said out loud. The Loyalists watching the test laughed. A scientist in the corner spoke into a microphone. "Test 106." He pointed at a woman sitting near a panel of controls. " Start the test." She flicked a switch and turned some knobs. The tubes above the gas chamber filled with grey gas. It began to pour out of the vents. The other people in the chamber with me began coughing. Their skin became grey and started to fall off in large swaths. Then, they began to drop, one by one. A kid no older than 6 was crawling across the floor towards me making growling and coughing noises. He grabbed my leg and tried to bite me. I let out an undignified screech and fell ungracefully to the hard metal floor. I kicked at the child and eventually pushed it into the corner where I punched it repeatedly until it stopped breathing. I wasn't happy about killing a kid. Moving the corner, I sat with disbelief. I was still huddled in the corner wrapped in a scratchy brown blanket with a stain of god knows what covering the majority when the guards came in and took me away.

3 days later...

   A soldier came in to my gloomy cell and grabbed me and dragged me to another room. Instantly I was re-chained. Some imposing guy came in dressed in military garb with a gun at his hip.

"WHY AREN'T YOU GETTING SICK? DO THE REBELS HAVE A CURE? TELL ME!" He screamed at me. His fist slammed against my face. Suddenly the whole facility shook. The guy took out a gun and aimed it at my head. That's when the ceiling fell down, but not before he got one shot off. I felt the bullet penetrate my calf on my right leg. The wall I was chained to fell over. The chains broke. I was free. I stood up and looked around. Everything was on fire. A ruined city was visible on the horizon. There was a great thundering noise. Jets and helicopters flew over and launched rockets at Loyalists. A small group of people carrying weapons charged out of the woods and began firing at gun towers. My lower leg was sticky with blood. One of the people who came out of the woods ran over to me. 

"Are you hurt?"  It was a guy. From the sound of his voice, I estimated his age to be around 18.  He walked over to me. I noticed that his arms where covered in tattoos. They looked familiar...