escape velocity - chapter 17 "imperfect, just like me"

7/29/2019 Escape Velocity - Chapter 17 "Imperfect, Just Like Me"

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Escape Velocity

Chapter 17

Imperfect, Just Like Me

Meryl S. Fortney

"Grab that fucking bitch!"

They pulled me by the arms, so hard I thought they'd pop like suction cups.

"Let me go you bastards!" I screamed until my throat was bleeding, over and over.

Of course it didn't do me any good.

Rob and Ed and me, we were just looking for a place to crash after weeks of rummaging

through barren cities, towns, malls, whatever.

I killed so many of them in those six years, I never really thought they'd turn their attention

directly to me.

It was nearly midnight when we settled on an abandoned...

Of course it was abandoned, is that even a necessary word anymore?

Anyway, a police station.

We locked ourselves in holding cells and went back and forth for a while about memories

from before twenty-thirteen.

The normal stuff.

Parents.



What we thought we'd do with our lives.

Real melancholy stuff.

Well it turns out that, although safe from the deaders, the Zees would get to us and use this as

a great opportunity.

Great for them.

Not for us.

I don't really know what they did with Ed and Rob.

They never told me.

Nor do I know how they got away.

It was me they wanted.

They called me "Black Widow."

Doesn't really make sense in context but I guess it gave them a name to focus all their anger.

One of them, he stood there in front of my cell just watching me like an animal.

He had the key, but he wanted to watch me squirm.

You already know these people are sick as fuck.

He'd run his tongue over his teeth and hiss like a snake.



I just sat there in the corner, wishing I hadn't unloaded my weapon and left it somewhere

stupid.

A mistake I will never make again.

Then he takes off his shirt and grinds a blade across his chest, keeping that dead fucking stare

on me.

I can still see all of this clear as day in my head.

Rattling and rattling, shaking at the bars like some kind of possessed demon, laughing and

spitting.

And his buddies come over and slam open the cell door.

"Grab that fucking bitch!"

God it still rings in my ears.

I wanted so much to wring the life out of them one by one.

But I couldn't do shit.

I was so fucking weak.

When they finally let go of me, we were out in some field by a well and this dickless shit-lord

grabs a knife and says with his rotten fucking teeth hanging out, "I got 'er eye!"

Dante, it was near the most excruciating pain I've ever felt.

I don't know if you can imagine, but it's like pulling on something that comes out in strands

and snaps bit by bit the further you yank.



And when they were finished mutilating me they stripped me down to nothing.

One of them pulls out a rope, "I got this piggy!"

Laying there over the mouth of the well, just hanging there on a bucket, arms and legs tied.

I don't really believe all that much in God but I prayed for it to be over.

One after the other, they did whatever they pleased.

I felt disgusting.

I wanted to be dead.

Nothing more.

I wanted one of them to just take my gun and turn my head into mush.

But that's where Ed and Rob showed up — I don't think they had any ammunition left when it

was all over.

"So you see? That's why I might seem different every now and again."

We're on the bottom level of a parking garage where the tunnel ends and I'm missing a left

hand — just a lump of mostly healed flesh, wrapped in pieces of my clothes.

"Why'd you wait so long to tell me?"

I hold my gun with my right hand and wonder just how I'll change a magazine from here on

out.



"It was hard, Dante." Her face absolutely blank, "it was the worst thing that ever happened to

me. But since we probably won't see tomorrow I wanted you to know..."

"Thank you for finally telling me. I don't see you any differently. You're still a rookie cop in

my eyes."

"So you're missing a hand? So what? I'm missing something, too. You're imperfect, just like

me."

We've both lost everything and I wouldn't say we've emerged unscathed. There is no

innocence and there are no role models left.

"I was never perfect."

There's an orange floodlight spilling into the area we've stopped at, in order to catch our

breath.

The sprint from the crumbling tunnels was too much of a close call.

She pulls herself up, hand on a knee, "where do you think they're headed?"

"Where else?" I almost push myself up with what no longer exists, stumbling, "the only place

that's left."

"Are you going to be okay." Touching my arm, "I can reload for you if need be..."

"I'm only gonna need two shots."

I have no idea where we ended up. My only hope is that it isn't further from our destination,

although my best bet would be that we're probably much closer.



"None of the cars down here look capable of running," Meryl peeks through the window of a

Prius, "let's head to the roof, get an idea of exactly where we are."

One of the vehicles up top has keys in the ignition. They did not expect you to survive.

How do you know this?

I just do.

Up the ramp and around the corner, the toll booth is blocked off with withered police tape,

mounds of sand bags and rows of vehicles that never left.

The opposite side, there's a hole blown straight outta the wall.

"Is that recent?"

My eyes twitch, I stop and continue again behind her.

I kneel down and touch the surface with my hand, "Yeah it's hot."

"Where did they get all of these explosives?"

"Let's just hope that's all they had."

The top is four floors up, bones aching, we climb; we rise up and find yet another metal

graveyard with just one vehicle that looks maybe okay to drive.

To the west, a red sun begins to purge behind a sky of dark-outlined clouds.

"It's gotta be about four p.m. or so..." Hand to my forehead.



"Huh," she crosses her arms, "would you know, it's a frikken' midnight sixty-nine Charger,

reinforced with steel plating and all."

"You serious?" I kick a boot against its tire. "Let's not flip this one."

"I'm driving," bent over into the driver's side, "check the trunk real quick."

The latch pops and it glides open with a whisper of a hiss.

"Just some rope, a crowbar and a spare tire."

A cold pair of fingers run up the sides of my body and my heart nearly fucking stops.

I spin around, gun in hand, "The fuck?!"

"You really thought I was dead, didn't you?"

The trigger's jammed.

"Nuhm De..."

"Just call me Julianna," grabbing a tuft of hair from my head, "you know that person well

enough, right?"

Blinking erratically, "get the hell away from me!"

My eyes shift and she's gone in a plume of grey.

Head falling a bit, I wonder exactly when this piece of shit psycho bitch is going to die and

relinquish control of my mind.

She should've died. Surviving that much damage is too goddamn good to be true.



But then there's a warmer hand from behind that gradually moves from my shoulder down to

my chest.

"You look tired."

Meryl.

It's her touch that gets me.

It breaks me.

I almost feel human.

I almost feel alive.

I give in.

"Right here, D."

She grabs at my shirt.

"It's too dangerous, we're out in the open."

"Don't give me that."

My heart's racing. She won't even let me speak.

"Just one more time," pushing me against the car.

I feel ashamed — embarrassed — a stub of a left arm just hanging there.



"Just, just don't even move." Hands running through my hair.

And for a moment in time, it isn't the end of everything.

The world isn't collapsing all around us.

Here and now it's just two bodies in the glow of the setting sun.

"Tell me, D. Tell me we'll still be here tomorrow."

She moves her lips — her hands.

"Tell me it's all over and we can go have a real life."

My cheekbones fill with a warmth and the water-lines of my eyes become a misty wet as I'm

looking into her.

"Tell me it's okay to cry."

"It's okay, Meryl. Really. It's okay."

escape velocity - chapter 17 "imperfect, just like me"

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