Nickelback

nickelback

Our training nearly completed, Dorian and I are placed into active duty. We fight the battle against the cruellest of corporate injustice. I am stationed in a hotel where the assistant general manager is believed to be a raider from the fourth quadrant. Dorian is assigned a role at an insurance firm which is believed to be infecting the water supply with experimental life-extending chemicals, therefore ensuring their profits while refusing any payments. The danger of these chemicals is that the victims tend to stay alive through horrendous circumstances, such as cancer, HIV, or sickle-cell anemia.

I was supposed to take it easy on my first day at the job, but the suspect seemed harmless enough, no more than a resident profit-sucking loser, so I assumed that I had nothing to fear. A fourth quadrant enforcer tends to strategically remove employees (through questionable circumstances, of course) in order to increase profit while cutting the annual budget. Suspect extermination is the common means, usually handled by disintegration.

I wandered through the lobby, casually planting pocket-sized zero-frequency transmitters in various flower arrangements. These transmitters emit a frequency far above the range of dog whistles, and are specifically designed to torture the sensetive ears of fourth quadrant invaders.

Several hours had gone by, with no unusual activity whatsoever. Soon, Dorian arrived to take me back to the grounds and I went to sign out for the day. I had just crossed through the "employees only" door when I heard the shrieking - a vicious, desperate, animal shriek that sent shivers down my spine.

I peeked through the door, but I couldn't see anything. I went through, then I went down on one knee to get a good look around. I could see Dorian crouched behind a sofa, waving me down. I took a quick glance around, and then I hustled on the balls of my feet around to the backside of a desk, which I squatted behind. I peeked around the edge of the oak desk.

I could see it then. The bastard had painfully ripped out of its human skin and was rampaging through the lobby. Apparently the transmitters worked better than I had hoped. The oozing mass of what was left of the assistant G.M.'s flesh lay in a stinking heap on the marble floor. What had been occupying that flesh was now randomly slicing the heads off of employees with its razor-sharp talons which ejected out of its slime-ridden paws. I didn't have a clear shot at it, but I took a long-range show at it just for distraction's sake. It worked. The beast swiveled quickly towards me and gave Dorian enough time to take off a close range shot. Somehow, that missed, too, but it scared the bastard enough that it took off out through the side exit. Dorian and I were soon in quick pursuit.

The creature left a visible trail of blood and slime behind it as it went, as well as taking the midsection out of a few more unlucky employees. He had gone into the parking garage across the way. We quickly followed.

The garage was empty and gray. We looked, but saw no sign. We waited, listening for some idea of which way to go. It came soon enough. There was a screech of tires form one of the levels above us and the unmistakable scream of a man who knows he's about to die. We sidled over to the up-ramp, keeping close to the far wall. I led, and Dorian kept a safe fifteen feet behind. When we were almost to the top I waved Dorian over to hold fast while I went up. I lifted my head just above the concrete ridge. I couldn't see anything. I cautiously went up top.

The wreck was on the other side of the garage, by the down-ramp. I waved Dorian to follow, and he obliged. I inspected the wreck. The car was at an odd angle, as if it had screeched to a halt out off instinct, and then tried desperately to take off again. It didn't work. His only remaining recognizable feature was the bloodied name tag still hanging off his torn-open chest. We stopped for a moment. We agreed that Dorian would take the high road, and I would take the low. I couldn't figure why the beast would go back down to where the authorities were destined to be waiting, unless the hotel knew all along about the alien and had paid off the authorities to keep it quiet. I took a quick glance over at Dorian as he crept along the up-ramp, then I proceeded down.

There was no sign of anything below me, and I worried for a moment about Dorian's safety. I listened, but heard nothing. Then the smell of stale chypre seeped around from behind me. I didn't think or look, I merely swiveled and fired as I turned. I took a good chunk out of it's shoulder, but not before it could tear a gash out of my collarbone. Dorian fired off a shot from across the garage. He missed, but it distracted the creature long enough that I could crouch down on one knee and get a line on it. It tried to pounce, but I left a perfectly circular hole in its head before it could get off the ground.

Dorian climbed over the dead, stinking heap, ripping a sleeve off his shirt which he pressed against my open wound. I got up, and we darted out of the garage and headed for the nearest metro tunnel back to base.

We were given a hero's welcome once back at the grounds. I was led to the infirmary, where a beautiful doctor cleansed, repaired, and dressed my wounds with the utmost care and concern. When she was finished, she helped me up and led me to the mess hall.

They had prepared a great feast in our honor. Captain Fortante congratulated us both on a job well done, and gave me a small medallion to honor my first injury in the line of duty. Also, I was informed that I would be given two day's recovery time before I had to go back into service. I would, of course, continue with minimal training in the meantime.

Throughout the feast, I ate very little, and my head was still lying someplace far off. The doctor held my hand throughout the meal, then finally whispered in my ear, "You look tired. You should rest for the night."

She stood up and led me through the hall and back to my barracks. She gently laid me down on the bed and went back to close the door. She came back to my bedside, then slowly crawled in beside me. I started to say something, but she hushed me with a long, ivory finger.

She slid down the bed and started to undo my trousers. I realized that I was still in uniform, since I had never changed from work. My head was lost. I couldn't understand anything that was happening. I looked down at the woman below me.

I spoke, despite her argument. "What's your name?" She sighed at me, "What does it matter?" I was growing impatient and lost. "It matters to me. I would like to know your name." "My name is Elisa," she giggled, "But you can call me Isabella if you want."

I bolted upright. My face flushed and the first thought that went through my mind was of Dorian and his loose lips. I was sure he had slept with this woman and told her everything. "What are you talking about?" I insisted.

She leaned softly on one elbow. "Everybody knows, and it's pretty damned foolish of you. You two aren't the only ones in those classes. Word gets around. You know it's forbidden. Besides, there are so many beautiful people here, so much more loving than your little intellectual."

I jumped out of the bed. She started to speak, but I raised my hand as if to strike her, and she silenced. I fixed my pants and ran out of the door. Most everyone was still feasting in the mess hall, so I had little trouble getting to the tunnel which led to the University.

Once inside, the school was abandoned. Isabella and I had wandered throughout the halls often enough, so I found an un-alarmed exit fairly easily. I went out into the street.

It had been so long since I had been out in the real world, that I had almost forgotten what exactly to do. I also realized that I had left Isabella's number in my pants pocket back at the hotel. I looked around the campus, and found a relatively large road. I figured this would be the best place to find a taxi. I hailed one soon enough and gave him the address of the hotel. The driver started off.

My heart leapt in my chest, however, when just two blocks out I spotted Isabella walking along the road away from the school. I ordered the driver to stop and called Isabella over to the taxi window. She tried to inquire about my wound, but I instead insisted that she get in the cab with me and that we go to her place. She did as I asked.

She lived only about a mile from the campus. She kept asking me what had happened, but I clammed up, not wanting to reveal anything. I told the driver to stop about a block away from her apartment. She started to pay, but I offered the driver my gun in the back of his head in exchange for the fare. He accepted. We got out of the cab and ran the next block to the sound of the taxi driving off in a panic.

Once we were inside the apartment with the doors locked and windows covered, I felt comfortable enough to lay my gun on the nightstand and sit on the bed. Isabella stood sobbing by the door.

"What's happening?" she cried.

I called her over to the bed. She stayed where she was. "I can't tell you," I sighed, "I wish I could, but I can't. I'm sorry. I just didn't want it to end the way they want it to end. I wanted to say good-bye properly."

She came to my side then. "You mean to say you're leaving?"

I ran my hand through her hair. "No, I'm not. I'm not going anywhere. You'll still see me every day, but we can never, ever come in contact with each other. They won't let us."

She was crying now, "Who? Who won't let us?"

I took her in my arms. "I can't tell you. You don't need to know. It just has to be this way. I'm sorry."

She looked up at me. "If you don't want me to know, I won't ask. But if this is good-bye, let's make it right."

She lifted her lips up to mine, and I accepted them. Her mouth was softer than I had imagined. She gently lifted my shirt over my wounded shoulder, and I slowly opened her blouse and unclasped her brassiere. I gently cupped her breasts as we fell back into the bed. We made love as passionately as my injury would allow, having to stop on occasion as the two of us were on the verge of tears. When we were done, we both laid down to sweet, blissful sleep.