Chaos Theory – Chapter 24

Infractions and Reactions 

2020, 30 miles north of SeattleHe could sense them. Before he heard them he could sense their craving for fresh meat, could feel the thrum of their racing pulse drumming a beat on the cold, hard ground. The steady pounding of impatient legs, the sickening scent of drool born of a hunger only he could satisfy. He knew it would be mere minutes before they caught up with him, yet he fought on, daring himself to outrun them. Shrill whistles sounded through the trees, frightening the occupants of the forest from their dwellings; the eerie hoots of night owls, the resonant screech of startled animals echoing off rocks, trunks and brush. He could hear voices now, and the faint roar of motors undoubtedly coming from his pursuers. They were gaining on him; time was falling short. He could see it up ahead. The towering, electrified fence that enclosed the grounds of hell he was attempting to leave behind. Watchtowers, guard posts, the roving strobe lights along the perimeter. Guards standing sentry, assorted weaponry in plain sight, clearly visible even at this distance, thanks to his enhanced capabilities. , Washington – Manticore Facility

Max was growing weary of the distrustful and angry looks being thrown her way. After her match with 337, Trainer Daniels had taken 494 aside for a private chat. She’d seen the flash of fear in his eyes and wondered what had happened to him in the past to inspire such a reaction. 494 had been gone all evening; he’d missed dinner and leisure time, leaving his 2IC in charge. It was thirty minutes to lights out and he had yet to return.

Max sat huddled on the corner of the couch in the rec room, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, hugging them as close to her chest as possible. She bobbed her head slightly, her chin brushing lightly across the stiff fabric of her fatigues. 

The day had passed relatively quickly and hadn’t been as bad as she had expected. She was aching; every muscle in her body screamed at her in agony. Max had thought she was in decent shape but apparently Manticore soldiers were worked rigorously. The days ahead wouldn’t be a party, but at least with practice and time the pain would ease. And unfortunately for me, looks like there will be plenty of time spent training.

494 entered the rec room quietly and surveyed the scene before him. His unit was making the most of their leisure time. Some were catching up on class work, others playing pool or cards and some just chatting and laughing. 452 was left alone and staring silently out the window. He wished she were quiet all the time. If she hadn’t opened her big mouth I wouldn’t have had to deal with Lydecker. The next few weeks will be hell. Not only do I have to worry about the unit, but now I have to spend my spare time bringing 452 up to scratch. 

He kept his eyes trained on her. She’d surprised him earlier by putting her opponent down and coming out the victor. By right, 337 should have won. He had, after all, ten years on her. But somehow, somewhere, 452 had developed street smarts and skills that could match Manticore’s training. And because she was good, we’re all going to suffer. 494 should have been happy with the knowledge that 452 could keep up with his unit, but Trainer Daniels’ decision, based on 452’s victory, left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated being shown up.

494 approached his 2IC and conversed with her in muted tones. Max immediately felt a pair of eyes watching her. She glanced up to catch the penetrating and furious gaze of 602. Whatever 494 had been telling her had 602 looking really pissed. What did I do this time? she thought tiredly. Whatever it was, she hoped it could wait until morning. 

494 called for his unit to return to their barracks. As the group trudged down the hallway, heated whispers buzzed from every direction. Max held her head up straight and kept her eyes forward, ignoring the looks she was once again receiving; looks of open hostility. When she reached the door of her cell, she turned around. Glaring at her fellow soldiers she snapped.

“What?”

Alec turned, came to a halt in front of her and snarled. “Your luck on the mats got us all in trouble. Trainer Daniels added an extra hour of sparring to our daily schedule.” He narrowed his eyes in anger and invaded her personal space. “Before roll call.”

Max cringed. But as always, her defense system kicked in. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I show you up?” She smirked at the thought. “You didn’t think I would let you guys push me around, did you?” The entire unit growled as one and Max glared at Alec. “Would you have?” There was a flash of acknowledgement, however reluctant, in his eyes that he quickly covered up. But Max had already seen it. “I didn’t think so.”

602, Alec’s SIC, stepped forward. “That aside, your pathetic little joke at breakfast gave us an extra hour of laps. We could have been enjoying our food, but no, you had to screw that up for us too.”

Max snarled. “Well excuse me for being human! Manticore may have succeeded in sucking all the life out of you, but I will NOT apologize for trying to find some sort of happiness in this hell hole!”

494 grabbed Max by the neck and pinned her to the wall. “Find happiness on your own time, if you must. But don’t ever, and I mean ever, bring us into to it. You wanna spend your time in and out of Psy-Ops and isolation, be my guest. But I have a unit to command and I take my job seriously. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t risk getting our unit in trouble again.” 494 released her and she moved aside quickly.

Max threw her head back, chin jutting out indignantly. One eyebrow raised at her Commanding Officer she tossed back at him saucily, “Is that a threat?”

494 growled menacingly. “You’ll find out if you step out of line again, 452. Don’t test me.”

Max didn’t dignify his threats with a reply. She simply turned her back on him and walked towards her room.

A hard boot made contact with her back, causing her to stumble gracelessly inside. “Don’t make me regret covering for you. Next time I won’t bother.”

She turned around only to find the door to her cell slamming shut in her face.

494 stretched out on his bunk, one arm under his head, the other folded across his stomach. It had been a long day. He’d known that having 452 in his unit was a recipe for disaster but he hadn’t expected things to develop quite like they had.

If he were honest with himself, he would agree that he’d been a bit harsh with her. But overall, his unit was now suffering as a result of 452’s actions.

Naming 452 as the reason for the unit’s failure is low. You’re the one in charge, face up to your responsibilities and stop lying to yourself.

494 recalled the events of the day in minute detail. It wouldn’t be fair to pronounce judgment so quickly. 452 had made them laugh. What harm was there in that? Yes, it had caused the unit to be disruptive and consequentially they’d been given extra laps with their morning workout. But it had felt good letting loose like that. It was something sorely lacking in a place where moments of happiness were far between. It was a feeling he could get used to if given half the chance.

452’s victory on the mats with 337 was hardly a bad thing. She’d shown them that although she was lacking in Manticore training, she more than made up for it fighting dirty. 494 knew it would be advantageous to have 452 share her knowledge, thus adding to his unit’s skills. They would then have an edge other units lacked – something that would please the higher-ups and satisfy his own need to be the best at everything.

What was it about 452 that rubbed him wrong? She was beautiful, passionate, with a nasty attitude and a biting tongue. She challenged him. Her fire was refreshing, though when exposed for long periods of time he found it maddening. It was when she managed to annoy him that he lost his temper. And 494 was cool, calm and collected. The fact that she could get under his skin only served to confuse him. And being near her…

Touching 452 was pleasurable pain. His skin prickled enticingly with every brush of skin on skin. It was a shame, really, that she tended to bring out a rather objectionable desire to shake her senseless. Or kiss her senseless…

Where the hell did that come from?! You’re losing it, 494. You’ve known her like what, a week? So she’s hot – nothing new there. Most the girls here are hot. 

He argued back and forth with the voice in his head and eventually admit defeat.

There’s something about her that none of the other girls here have. And you want it…

He thought back to the time they’d shared in isolation. 452 had shown him concern, something practically unheard of within Manticore’s walls. “Are you okay?” Soft words spoken as she saw his wounds. He’d brushed it off with his trademark ‘I’m always alright.’ But he wasn’t always alright, and it bothered him that she’d seen him so weak.

A smile curved his full lips as he recalled the way she’d checked him out. How he’d taunted her and flirted, the fire in her eyes, the indignant scowl and harsh, passionate exclamation that was her reply. He’d laughed to himself then, when she’d told him she would have kicked his ass if not for the bars between them. He’d dismissed her claim, hadn’t thought she possibly could. But now he knew better.

Knowing her was changing him, but he wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse. 452 made him feel. Made him think. And she’d named him. He was 494 but he was also Alec. She obviously thought enough of him to feel he was worthy of a name. That he was more than just a number. But what was that worth when all he knew was Manticore? And Manticore would only ever see him as a number.

Then there was the matter of Lydecker. The whole Lydecker-452 angle was confusing. He was forceful and assertive of his authority one minute, then kind and caring the next. There was an undercurrent of tension whenever the two of them were together and although 452 put on a tough front, she seemed inexplicably at ease with the Colonel, something 494 had never encountered in any other Manticore soldier. Never one to watch from the sidelines, 494 intended to figure it out, and soon.

452 was both a blessing and a curse. When he was rough with her, he felt bad and wished he could be gentle. He managed to hurt her when it was the furthest thing from his mind. He had felt the pressure, felt the anger radiating from his 2IC when she learned of the new training schedule, felt the stubbornness of those under his command; the unit’s united front, negative as it was, had forced his hand. He had chosen to side with them; after all, they’d been loyal to him and 452 was an outsider. But now 494 regretted his actions of earlier that evening. He knew he should apologize for the way he treated her – and he would. He just had to find the right time and place to do so.

Yawning, he turned on his side. Sleep now, think later. I’ll figure it out later. 494 allowed his eyes to drift shut as slumber overtook him.

Desperation. It was a feeling he knew all too well.

Wind whipped past him. The wet leaves and bare branches scraped his skin as he raced through the dense vegetation of the surrounding woods, the coolness of the dew-laden plants soothing the angry scratches raking his flesh as he battled his way forth.

Icy fingers of fear clawed their way up his spine, crawling up his face and down again, finally resting heavily in the pit of his stomach. Sweat beaded on his forehead and neck, soaking the top of his t-shirt and under his arms.

It would all be over soon, one way or another. The siren roared suddenly, sending the entire compound on high alert. His objective was within reach. Fifty feet…forty feet…thirty feet… Any moment now. He was set to spring; all his strength going into that one, fluid, flawless movement that would catapult him over the fence to freedom. Never breaking his furious pace, he bent at the knees and leapt. Searing pain shot through his body with incredible force. Panic set in. The sudden dead-weight that clamped around his ankle with razor-like incisors made him gasp for breath mid-air. White-hot agony burned his leg as the beast’s teeth dug deeper and harder into his aching, raw flesh. Snarling came from some feet below his airborne form, speaking of the end that awaited him should he fail. But he was falling; just short of his target, he was losing before he’d really had a chance to play the game. Bullets whizzed past him, grazing his thigh and side. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes to fight the hot, angry tears that were streaming down his face.

A cool breeze ruffled the damp hair on his head and he heard it clearly. A soft voice so sure and sincere suddenly enveloped him as if in caress. “Never doubt yourself. It’s always within your reach.”  

Barely skimming the wire atop the fence, he frantically shook his damaged leg, biting his lip to keep from screaming his pain. The dog released its grip and fell to the ground below with a terrible thud. He came to land in a crouch on the other side, never sparing a glance over his shoulder as he disappeared into the night.

  

494 shot up in bed, body shaking and drenched in cold sweat. A nightmare. It was a fucking nightmare. He had been so close to escaping when it all started crashing down on him. But then he’d heard the voice. One he recognized but couldn’t identify. Soft words compelling him to be strong, not to give up. A voice so familiar, so soothing. Someone he trusted, who’d guided him safely across the void. But who?