Chapter 1 - Broadcast #476

As I end my broadcast, my throat feels sore, as it always does when I'm done. As I grab my mic and Ham radio, I stuff them in my pack, sprinting like it's my last day to the nearest window, because it might be if I'm slow. I hate this part, and no matter how many times I do this, I can't fucking stand the feeling of glass breaking, and the air rushing past me as I fall past the stories of the apartment building I used for my broadcast today. Taking a glance above me as I reach terminal velocity, I spot a bunch of Reds flowing out of the window I just jumped through. Shit, that's faster than usual. As I hit the ground, I grimace through the light pain and the mental shock at not having died as I just fell 30 stories, I roll and begin sprinting to the nearest subway station. I hate New York, but thank fuck there's so many accesses to underground. Sprinting down the stairs, and past all the "people" yelling at me to watch it, I hop the stile, and shout a quick "Sorry!" to the "guards" manning the station. Sprinting down another set of stairs, readjusting my pack, I jump off the platform, and, ignoring the shouts of "Hey!", "What the fuck!", I perk up my ears to see if I can hear my favourite phrase, smiling as I hear someone say under their breath, "Not another one, I can't be fucking late again today!" Despite the many horrors of this world, the sheer unoriginality of the "people" makes me somewhat glad that they're not real, as twisted as that is. Still running, I pull my notebook from my pocket and duck, still moving as fast as I can in my awkward position, as I see the first Reds confusedly making their way down the stairs of the platform. Pulling out my pencil from my other pocket and flipping open my notebook, I put a tick for each "Fucking late!", "Hey!" "What the fuck" and everything else I heard today, hoping to see that the more positive ones are more common. Running through the math quickly in my head, still duck-running into the tunnel, I affirm that the standard deviation of "Fucking late!" is hilariously low today, but seeing as it is a Monday, I really shouldn't be surprised. I scowl as I see that the negatives are far more common today. That's a bad sign, and today's been rough enough already. Standing up straight as I reach the arch of the tunnel and continuing my sprint, I spot my destination. As there's nothing left to service, service tunnels, and the sewers they connect to, are kinda useless these days, but they've saved my life enough times to not be completely useless, I guess. Pulling out my lock picks, I glance around to see if the Reds have reached the tunnel yet. Seeing that the answer is no, and thanking my luck that I happened to pick a platform that was particularly packed today, I pick the lock and put my things away, wiping down the handle with a cloth and a practiced motion.

"It's a superstition more than anything else, North, you gotta stop doing that!" I say to myself, quietly cursing the seconds I wasted wiping away my fears, and close the door behind me quietly, breathing a sigh of relief. It was a close one today, and I hope that that was all the bad luck I'd predicted for today. I take out my Map, and look for my next destination. I wonder what I look like in this moment, a disheveled 20-something with pitch-black eyes staring at a giant sheet of blank paper. As the map fills, I spot myself and my location, as well as a bright white line leading me north through the tunnels, up onto main, and into a building occupied by a great many blue dots, though I curse as I see a red dot slowly following a red line traced through the same tunnel as I need to take to reach street level on main. Calculating where the red dot is gonna end up by the time I time I reach the red line, I put away my map and start moving, quietly, towards my exit.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fuck! As I stumble over some piece of refuse, I realise that the Sentry shifted it's patrol, and it's heading straight for me. I break out into a sprint, and hope to whatever god it doesn't see me.

Beep beep beep beep

Fuck fuck fuck fuck!

Internally screaming for every beep I hear, I know that the fucker spotted me, but luckily, it's alone, and we're underground, meaning a weak signal and little chance of news of my location spreading to other Sentries. I dash straight for it, as it turns around, presumably to head towards it's fellows alerting them to start hunting me. I begin circulating some of my energy into my legs, increasing my speed. Flashing in front of it, I pull the crowbar from my side, and exert enough energy into my arm to make my joints creak, smashing down at the Sentry. A crack sounds as I hit the thing straight in it's one stupid eyeball, disorienting it enough that I can get a few more easy swings in, as it can't dodge in the state it's in. It goes down, and I just keep whaling on it.

I may have gone a little overboard, as the Sentry is just a crushed mash now, but at least there's no chance it can get up, or worse, have whatever info it's been storing recovered. I sigh, pulling my crowbar from the scrap of the Sentry. It's time to leave, I think to myself as I sprint towards my destination, not caring about being quiet, as there's nothing left in this section of the tunnels. I emerge from a manhole on main, cringing as the physical object phases through the car above it. Interacting with the car stopped above me, I hop up into it, and sit down in the backseat, instructing the taxi driver to head towards the building the white line moved into. "He" takes a casual glance back at the person who just appeared in his car, and nods, maneuvering his way through traffic to stop in front of the building, which seems to be just a regular old apartment building. I get out of the car, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, whispering a quick thank you to the taxi driver, who just nods and pulls away, without even asking for a penny. While useful, it's kind of unsettling how the "people" never really act the way they're supposed to. I guess that as an semi-ethereal mass of simulated person, driving a semi-corporeal mass of machine, you don't have any real need for money, I think, laughing to myself. Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I head into the apartments, pick the lock to the apartment the white line lead into, and flop down on the sofa in the living room. Waving to the "people" drifting around the apartment, I open my mouth to actually talk to the "people" for the first time in a while.

"Hey man, what's up?" Says the closest "person." I guess since I just waltzed into his apartment, this "person" just assumes I'm a friend.

"Nothing much, just gonna chill for a bit, then head to bed. Thanks for letting me crash, by the way."

He nods, affirming that this is a very normal thing I've just said, and he walks off to his bedroom, presumably. "Well, make yourself at home, I've got class in the morning, so don't stick around too long, my roommates don't know you that well."

"No biggie, I'll head out in the morning, quiet as a mouse." I say, keeping up the charade, and as I'm closing my eyes, preparing to sleep for the day, he sticks his head around the corner.

"Sure man, whatever works for you. There's a blanket beside you if you need it. Goodnight!"

"Yeah man, sounds good. Night." I say, as I pull a blanket from my pack, and curl up. Another day, another chase, and another broadcast. I pass out, hoping tomorrow won't be as tiring.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey man, class is gonna start in like 30, so we should get going."

Instinctively, I answer, "I'm up, I'm up." As I scramble upright, I realise that this is definitely not my dorm at UofT, and suddenly it all comes rushing back. Right, I don't go there anymore. I try not to think about it much more, and, stuffing my blanket into my pack, I hop off the couch, heading into the kitchen to cook breakfast for myself. Of course, "people" don't eat, and the fridge is empty, but I have plenty of MREs in my pack. Oatmeal, a pudding cup, and some tea. As always.

Before I leave, I stop off at their bathroom and relieve myself, shave, and take a shower. Heading out the door, I pull my blank Map out.

So it's the hospital today, eh? That's no good. Silently praying to myself that I'm not gonna be heading to the hospital to treat some sort of injury that I get along the way, I calmly step out onto the street, playing the perfect role of a "person." It's still a little jarring that these things don't bump into each other, as they somehow walk in perfect unison, in unbreaking lines up and down the sidewalk. Even those people in cars drive in perfect harmony, a stark contrast to the constant honking and people milling about I'm used to.

Pulling out my another of my Maps, this time an old newspaper, for I'd stand out staring at a blank page, I once more to double-check that I'm going the right way. Yup, I'm for sure heading straight towards a hospital. Seriously, I think again, I really hope nothing "interesting" happens on my way there.

Of course, as if on cue, I turn the corner, only to bump into a sign outside the coffee shop I'm passing by.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Breaking out into a sprint, I check the Map in my hands for the alternate route that the white line is taking now. Into the tunnels again, it seems.

Perfect. I just took a shower too.

I can already hear the sentries behind me.

I sigh, saying to no one "You really had to jinx it, didn't ya, North?" calculating how much time I've just wasted. Thankfully, my broadcast today is a later one, so I won't miss it, even though I know that's never happened before, wasting time being chased is always anxiety-inducing. I don't want to know what happens if I miss a broadcast.

I run through today's usual cat and mouse chase through the subway tunnels with a sort of tired anxiety, and despite the fact that nothing truly unexpected happened, throughout the trip I can't seem to shake off this odd feeling in my bones. Today is different, somehow. Curious. Using the same taxi trick as yesterday, I arrive at my destination. Triple-checking that this is the place on my Map as I head inside, I start.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Is.

That.