Chương 17: Chapter 17: Poisoned, Part 1

Jack woke, his head throbbing painfully. There was a hand on his head and his pillow was rather- hard and made of muscle? Opening his eyes, he saw a yellow rag in front of him with pink chunks on it. It smelled like vomit and his throat burned. He knocked the rag away. Beneath, were two knees covered in dark denim. Alex. He patted one knee and rolled on to his back. Alex's jacket covered him and his feet hung off the edge of a couch.

She had her head leaned against the wing of the couch arm. Her right arm was on the arm rest and her left hand fell to her lap as he moved. Alex's navy blue shirt was buttoned to the bosom. The white tank top underneath was splattered with tiny specks of blood. The splatter marks ran all the way up the porcelain skin of her delicate neck.

Memories faded in and out. He remembered the underground lair of the Antarians. Then the festival. Flashes of women's faces. The smell of sex and vomit. Alex and - a bubble bath? That can't be right. Then running in the dark, and guards. Something terrible happened. He felt like he had drunk a ton and ran a marathon, not two things that should be done together.

As Jack sat up slowly, a headache settled itself in the base of his skull. He rubbed at it with one hand and adjusted his jeans with the other. There must have been a lot of sex. He covered the sleeping Alex with her jacket.

Weylin turned his chair around.

Jack pressed his fingers to his lips. "Who are you?" Jack whispered.

"Weylin. Don't you remember?" he whispered back.

"It's kind of fuzzy. What did happen?"

"I don't think you want to know."

"Probably not, but I think I deserve to know," he said quietly.

Weylin nodded solemnly. "My people like your fire ability so they were breeding woman with you."

Jack scratched his head. "Really? Well that's- interesting, I guess."

"There's a bathroom through that door if you want to get cleaned up. We're just waiting for some daylight before we can get moving again."

Jack nodded. After a few minutes, he grabbed the bucket of vomit and his pack, then pushed through the door. Beyond it was a hallway with windows on the left and a wall on the right. He took the first door on the right and found the engineer's cabin.

The wall light lit the room with an orange glow. There was a small kitchen, dining table, and a large bed. To the right, a door opened to the bathroom. He dumped the vomit down the toilet, then set to washing his face and brushing his teeth.

They were breeding him? He just remembered faces, and the smell. Not really traumatic, but seriously, him? He was a genetic freak. Why would someone want to be like him? He couldn't even have children. Thanks to that research lab, his genes were no longer truly his own. He was just an experiment for those hybrids. The gene that gave him fire warped his genome enough that it was too far from any other person's genes. Any offspring wouldn't be viable; their genes would not make a complete person. He was sterile, like a mule.

Jack's stomach grumbled loudly and angrily. He realized he was starving. He heated a can of ravioli from his pack with one hand and dumped it in his mouth. The mint of the toothpaste altered the taste, but his stomach didn't care. After finishing, he elected for another can and repeated the process.

Tap tap tap.

Jack's head whirled towards the noise. It came from the windows. He walked over and cupped his hand up against the glass to look through into the night. Three torches lit up a company of Antarian soldiers. They were dressed in metal armor and a few were painted grey and black. The army swarmed around the train. One shouted orders, but the words came through the window muffled. The man pointed at the train and the guards descended and started pushing, the train rocking under the force.

"We've got a problem!" Jack shouted over his shoulder. "You need to get this thing moving, or else your buddies are going to have us for breakfast!"

"Can't move until sun up!" Weylin shouted back.

Jack worked at the window latch, but it was rusted shut. He searched around for another. He spotted the outline of a hatch on the ceiling. Using the dining room table as a stool, he unlatched and pulled himself up and out of the train. Every movement irritated his raw skin.

"Do you guys mind? We're escaping here," he shouted at them. He let a fireball dance in his palm and held it out where they could see. This had no effect. The iron clad men continued to push, trying to push the train far enough off to disengage from the lev-track. Other men stabbed the butts of their spears at the windows that let out groans as they started to crack.

From somewhere below the train door slammed open and the faint sounds of Weylin's pleas were muffled by the soldiers war cries.

Jack launched fireball after fireball at them, knocking them back, but the fireballs did no damage. "I must not be feeling a hundred percent," he muttered, rubbing at the headache in the back of his neck. He continued his barrage of fireballs, pushing them back enough to keep the train from really rocking.

A dark blur attacked like a lightning quick storm cloud descending from the sky. Alex picked them off one by one. Her blades flashed in the firelight, dancing in between pieces of armor. Her face was hard set and her eyes wild. He'd not seen her like this before.

"What are you doing out there, sweet cheeks?" he shouted.

Alex didn't hear him. She kicked a man's hand making him drop his sword, then whirled and landed the blade in his arm pit. He howled and jumped back. She dropped, rolled, and came up behind a guard trying to pull himself through a window in the train. In one fluid movement, she grabbed his head and spun it sideways.

Another guard came behind her. Jack blasted the man back. Alex finished him off with a knife to the forehead and kicked him off it with practiced skill. She ducked and dodged. It was beautiful and yet repulsive to watch her work her way through them. They all converged on her. Jack shot them back as she lay into them, leaving a trail of bloodied bodies behind her.

The captain stood tall, the only one remaining. He looked scared in the faint moonlight. The big man turned and ran. Big mistake. Alex launched her knife and it stuck in his calf. He fell face first into the mud. She stormed after him, almost biding her time, toying with him. Jack jumped down off the train car and went after her, walking gingerly and cursing that pink juice.

The captain rolled over, the whites of his eyes revealing his fear of the she-devil. Alex loomed above him. The Antarian grabbed her ankles, pleading for his life. She bent and whispered something into his ear. His eyes went wide. In one swift swipe, Alex cut his throat. Blood seeped and he gasped, clutching at his neck. Gurgling noises came up and then silence.

Jack reached her. She spun on him ready to attack. He put up his hand defensively, "Whoa now. It's me, cupcake," he said trying to catch his breath, "that was amazing."

She gazed at him. Her eyes glinted dangerously. The blood that splattered her face reflected the moonlight. Alex straightened, leaving her fighting stance. She bent down and plucked the knife from the dead Antarian's leg and wiped it on his pants. She flicked her wrist and the knife disappeared up her sleeve.

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