Chapter 2 - Broadcast #477

I can feel my vision tunnel as I stare at my Map. There, in a room on the fifth floor, the white line leads to something new. Something I've never seen before. There, in that room, is a green dot. Not a red one, or a blue one, or even the white dot that signifies myself. Is that what I think it is? Is that…

Sprinting faster than I thought possible, no longer caring what I look like, I arrive in front of the room.

I don't think I've ever been this nervous, I think to myself.

I know I shouldn't be standing out here, like this, breaking the flow of people flowing through the hospital. But I can't get myself to take that final step, into that room with the mysterious green dot.

Then, something in me shifts. An aching pang for another human lights itself in my chest. Before I can really grasp what I'm feeling, my body seems to move on its own. As if it needs to see what's beyond that door, as if something I don't quite yet understand, something beyond the ache for another human, is pulling me straight to that green dot.

On an unassuming hospital bed, sits a blond-haired, Nordic looking young woman, and I can already tell that she's real, not a "person" like everyone else I've seen since the Spires emerged. She's staring out the window, and I don't think she's noticed me yet because-

"Who are you?" Before I can finish my thought, she's looking at me, and those eyes, are not the blue you'd expect. They're navy, with little specks of red in them, as if I'm staring straight into shadows personified, somehow still human, despite their unnatural colouring. A thought flashes through my brain as I look into her eyes:

Predator.

What an odd thing to think, upon meeting someone for the first time. As I continue staring, her eyes shift to an expected light blue colour, the kind I'd seen the stereotypical Nord sporting in the days when the internet still worked.

Pulling out my notebook, I scribble on a blank page:

"We need to go. It's not safe here. I've been standing out too much, the Sentries have to have noticed by now."

"What do you mean we have to leave? Sentries? Again, who are you?" She looks strangely confused. I mean, she might have a different name for the one-eyed droids that fly around, looking as if they've been lifted straight from Valve's Half-Life, but there's no way she doesn't know what those are, right? I mean, how could she have survived?

Writing faster than I thought possible, I messily scrawl, "Seriously, we need to go. Now."

She doesn't move. Why isn't she moving?

"You're really starting to freak me out. Seriously, who are you?" Her slight accent is intriguing, but that's not the thought I should be having right now. I'm starting to panic visibly, as if I can Feel them coming for us. I don't have time to explain, no matter how fast I can write, and we need to get out of here. We. I ponder the implications of that word as I rush forwards, grabbing her, tossing her over my shoulder, and jumping out the window. While I dislike that method of exit, I do have to admit that it is fast, and the feeling in my gut is telling me we need to get out fast, because Sentries are probably right behind us. Oddly, the woman I'm carrying seems to have quieted down and stopped struggling .I think she may have fainted, likely due to acrophobia or something. She did yell obscenities and beat on me, but my body has already been strengthened, and there's no way she's escaping my grip. I'm oddly calm, I think, as the air rushes past me. Probably the adrenaline, and the burning need in me to get somewhere safe so I can properly talk to this girl.

While disconcerting that my life has progressed to a point where I'm okay with carrying around fainted women, I realise I can't roll out of this jump, and those damn Reds must be right behind me, because I can almost feel the air move with the power of their shrieks, signalling they've found us. Guess I gotta pull a fast one.

Jamming the hand not securing Blondie to me into the wall behind me, I slow enough to steady my feet on the wall, and jump, pumping as much energy into them as I can, diving straight onto the sidewalk, doing what I can only call a superhero landing, creating a small crater beneath me.

"Gotta blast!" I yell, sarcastically, to the Reds that have now fallen behind.

Thankfully, the nearest entrance into the Subway is fairly close, and I make it into the service tunnels before Blondie awakes, despite having only one hand to pick the lock on the entrance. Gently setting her down, and checking my Map for any nearby Sentries, I sigh in relief, seeing that there's none nearby enough to be dangerous. It's then that she awakes, as if she knew I had finally calmed down and was ready to start talking. Of course, she screams. Fuck. Jumping forward, and clapping my hand on her mouth, I stare at my Map again, hoping no Sentry heard her. Thankfully, their patrol patterns don't change, and I pull my notebook and pencil from my coat pocket.

I scribble carefully, making sure she can't move, or, God forbid, scream again. I don't get why she'd do that, I think, as I write. Doesn't she know that's dangerous?

Holding my notebook so she can read, she slowly nods her head at what I've written. I write another sentence: "Promise you won't scream again?" She nods again.

Carefully lifting my hand from her mouth and stepping back, she snaps at me angrily, "What the fuck are you doing? How are we still alive? Who are you? Where are we?" She fires question after question until my head is spinning, and I can't write fast enough to answer her.

Finally, she asks an important question. "Why can't you talk?"

I guess I should answer that one first. I write, "I only have a Voice, so I can't actually talk until you start Hearing me. It's extraordinarily straining."

"Why'd you capitalise voice and hearing?" I sigh, thinking only that this girl might be more trouble than she's worth, as I scrawl explanation after explanation.

The hours seem to melt away as I sit there, answering as many questions as I can.

As I sit back against the wall opposite her, Marigold, as she's asked me to call her, seems to have finally grasped the situation, but she's still asking questions. Thankfully, she shut up as I did my broadcast for the day, but of course I had to explain that to her too. Seriously, can this girl stop talking? She doesn't even seem to be asking me at this point, she's kinda just whispering into the void in my general direction. Weird.

That's my last thought before I fall asleep to the intriguing accent of Marigold, the day's rigours finally getting to me.