Sak · Maps

Escape 01:05 Reveal:Host

12.31.08 14:35
Section: Maps
Filed Under: Copyright - CC, Series

“I’m actually inside this thing,” Samara said, speaking softly and trying to stifle her impatience, “It isn’t a remote operated vehicle, and right now probably isn’t the best time for me to prove it.”

The man kept circling around the raiment, his jaw hanging open. He turned quickly and started stomping around in circles again, clearly growing agitated.

“What the hell is going on here?” he said, “How did I get here? Who are you?” growing louder as he posed each question.

“I can’t answer all of your questions, but please try and keep calm and quiet before you draw attention to us.”

“Sorry, this is all just a little difficult for me to get a hold of,” he lowered his voice, looking around nervously and raising his rifle. “I’m having trouble trying to get a grip on what’s happening. Are we at war or something? How did all this get started?”

“I’m not really sure, to be honest,” Samara said, and shifted the raiment into its resting position, which got the man to cock his head a little and start staring at her again. “My guess is that it’s just human nature at work. People group together on some notion, and that becomes a reason for rifts to form between alternative ideals. With as fragmented as it’s become, even similar ideologies have split off and started on their own factions. At some point they started hating one another to such an extent that it became increasingly violent, and here we are, dropped right into the middle of it,” her voice trailed off into a tired and confused tone. She sat silent for several seconds before continuing, “I suppose that in time they’ll coalesce again into just a couple major parties, and eventually come to terms again. Maybe the Reps will get control and establish some new order, and some of the smaller factions will just claim a bit of territory of their own.”

“Who are these Reps, then?”

“They actually call themselves The Republic. It’s one of the larger factions. Very organized. They’re the ones who blew all of the bridges.”

“All of them?”

“Well, except for I-5, which they have heavily fortified.”

“But you’re not with The Republic?”

“No, I’m with The Davis Group. It’s an independently run organization. It was formed by a married couple who managed to get in on some early investments that paid off very well for them before all the fighting started. They’re sort of history buffs, and so when everything fell apart they pooled their resources and started the organization. I was recently recruited as a Watcher.”

“A Watcher?”

“Yeah, we get dropped into various locations and observe what’s happening, making recordings as events unfold. This is my first assignment.”

“You’re a journalist?” he said, more as a statement than a question.

“Not really. No bias. We’re supposed to just observe and record, never to interact. We don’t interview, or even publish. Just make recordings that go into the archives.”

The man squatted down against the concrete wall, and stared at the ground for a few seconds. “Wait, but you shot up my apartment back there,” he said, looking back up at her.

“Well, apparently we both did,” she replied, which caused him to look down at his rifle. “But I thought you weren’t supposed to interact?” he continued, softly as though drifting off into another thought.

“I had to make a choice, and I’m sure I’m going to be fired for it. But it was important to me. All of my data from the time you appeared at the park is probably going to be deleted from the record. Not that anyone would be able to make sense of it anymore than I can.”

“Or I can,” he said, shaking his head. “So that was you following me from the park.”

“Yeah.”

He looked up at the raiment with a look on his face that suggested he was about to start rattling off a bunch of metaphysical questions again, but then his face dropped, as if he just gave up trying, and he stared at the ground and drew quiet for a long period.

“Dane?” Samara asked softly into the comm, like a child approaching its parent with the expectation of a scolding.

“Sam,” his voice buzzed, making the single syllable sound like it were three, “you’re kinda in some deep shit right now.”

“I know,” she said, “I shouldn’t have gotten involved, but the Reps would have snatched this guy.”

“So what?” Dane replied, showing some irritation, and then paused for a couple seconds, “that’s beside the point anyway. I mean you’re in some deep shit because you’ve got a couple of lites and a bunch of troops hunting for you now, and they’re about six blocks from where you are. One group is headed right for you.”

Samara shifted the raiment out of rest position, and the man looked up and started to stand.

“We need to get out of here,” she said, toggling the speaker. The man started looking around nervously again.

“Sam,” Dane said over the comm, “We can’t wait for you. We’ve got some action over here that’s creeping up on our location. We’re going to have to start back ahead of you. I’m going to launch a resupply unit for you into the lake. You’ll need to get to it before anyone else picks up its signal.”

“I have a civilian in tow,” she said, switching back to comm, “I’ll need extra—”

“I’ll stuff it with enough for both of you to get to the foothills.” Dane interrupted, “I’m not going to go into how you shouldn’t have done what you did, but we’ll worry about all that later. If he becomes a problem, and you need to move on your own…well…just know where your priorities are.”

Samara stared at the man as he looked around the corner of the concrete wall to scan the street.

“I’ve got to bring him with me,” she said.

“Well, good luck,” Dane said, “Nate has offered to run visible for a little while. He’s already making his way up over the north end of Greenlake, and so hopefully that’ll draw them off you.”

“Alright, we need to get moving.” Samara said, switching from comm back to speaker. “Take one of these ear-pieces so that we can communicate while we’re walking.” A little panel slid open near the hip of the raiment, revealing a row of small earphone devices. The man took one out and wrapped it around his right ear.

“Can you hear me,” Samara buzzed into his head, switching off speaker.

“Yeah,” he said, picking up the large case and starting to sling it over his back again.

“I can carry that for you if it’s heavy,” Samara offered, “It might be easier for you to move around and hide without having to lug that thing. On the raiment, it’ll become camouflaged.”

He was a little hesitant, dropping the case from his shoulder slowly as Samara turned the raiment around. “See those two hooks extruding from the middle, just loop the straps onto those,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, and just as he had hung the straps onto the hooks, they closed in around them, locking together in the center. He pulled a bottle of water, and a small bag from one of the pouches on the case, and stepped backward away from the raiment.

“We need to get to the foothills, on the east side of Lake Washington,” she said.

“I’ll need to get more food than this,” he said, and held up the little bag filled with a fruit and nut mixture.

“We’ll be picking up a resupply pack on the way. It should have enough food for us for a few days.”

“Okay, where?”

“I’ll be able to pick up its signal after they launch it. It’ll probably land on the west side of the lake somewhere. You’ll have to lead, and I’ll follow, as we get closer I can give you more direction.” Samara switched the raiments camouflage on, and the man stood staring as she faded into the concrete wall behind her. He started walking around her again, studying the raiment, which made her smile a little. “Weird, huh?” she said.

“Everything is weird today,” he said, after making one full circuit around her, and he walked over and looked around the corner of the wall again.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Ste…Robert…I guess.”

“It’s important that you know who you are, in this world,” Samara said, allowing an appropriate emphasis, “otherwise things can get a little difficult.”

He turned to look in the direction of the raiment again, paused for a few seconds, and then spun around and walked around the corner.

“Yeah,” he said, “the story of my life.”

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This is a work of fiction. None of the characters are real, including myself. Any similarities between what is depicted in the story and what exists in the real world are intentional coincidences.

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