Lab Rat part 54

Posted: March 10, 2011 in Family, Fiction, Test Subject

“That’s okay, boss. I could use the change of scenery anyway.” It’s true; I don’t have any reason to stick around. Besides, I’m entirely too popular for all the wrong reasons around here. I smirk. It’s not like I’ll be getting my deposit back on my apartment anyway. “I didn’t quit on you when I died. Why would I walk out on you now?” She smiles at that. It’s dazzling. She turns and starts punching something into the interior keypad. She checks her watch.

“We don’t want to be here in five minutes,” she tells me.

“Does this have something to do with the second code you gave me?”

“Yes. There won’t be anything to salvage.”

“Well, let’s not dally,” I say and open the exterior door. The wind swirls in. I hear the sound of a helicopter overhead. It’s close. Very, very close. I pull the door shut again. “I think Johnson found me.”

“Are you sure?” I crack the door open. The sound of the chopper is faded a bit. I hear a voice amplified through a bullhorn.

“Brinks, bring Doctor Allison out.” I look back at Taryn.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I take a deep breath. I can already feel my adrenaline surging. When was the last time anything was easy? “Where are you parked?”

“Right outside the door. Blue sedan.” She seems pale.

“Is there any chance we can get away from them in a car?”

“I doubt it.”

“You have one minute!” Johnson is yelling.

“I thought you might say that.” I cycle the injector. Getting to choose what I’m going to be able to do is a luxury. If only there were a way to savor it. I kneel and open the bag full of cartridges on my shoulder. I dig one out, along with a silver cylinder. Taryn looks at me. “Don’t worry. I have an idea.” I open up the cylinder and a syringe slides out. I’m surprised at how steady my hands are as I load the syringe.

“What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to run for it.”

“We have to blow my storage unit.”

“Thirty seconds! If we have to come in, it’s gonna be worse!” Johnson has no idea.

“Yeah, well I bet we can get the helicopter to do it for us.” If we live that long. “Think you can find it from the air?”

“I’ve never used the flight power, Asher.”

“Don’t worry, Doc. This won’t make you fly.” I stick the needle in her arm and unload it. She winces. I drop the syringe and hit the injector. I burn for a moment. I stand and get behind Taryn, grabbing her by the back of her vest. “Don’t scream,” I tell her, and launch toward the door. She screams. I guess not telling her what I shot her up with is my small measure of revenge for the unlabeled cartridges. Her flesh is completely unyielding. I forget exactly how it worked, but she’s somehow ultra-dense without being infinitely heavy. As for myself, well gravity can’t hold me if I don’t let it right now. The door explodes outward, and we shoot out of the building. Her vest strains as I pull her at an extreme angle to her inertia and we soar into the sky. I hear the gunfire start. I bring us up in a spiral. I have to find that helicopter. Taryn is my only armor, and as ignoble as it sounds, I have to keep her between me and the bullets.

I came across the program from my mom’s funeral when I was sifting through the mountains of crap I’m trying to get rid of. It brought forth a surprising amount of anger. I was pretty sure I had forgiven her for shuffling loose her own mortal coil. Turns out, not so much. There is some debate as to whether I should keep it. The debate is mostly internal although friends and family have weighed in on the issue. As I write this I’m preparing to torch some documents and old checkbooks that I don’t want anyone having. We will see whether or not I keep this emotionally charged piece of paper.

On a slightly lighter note: A half-hour episode of a given television show without commercials is around 22 minutes on DVD. The wireless controller for my Xbox 360 turns itself off after 20 minutes of being idle.


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