I could make out voices not too far away, but could not clearly hear what they are saying. They were speaking in hushed tones, so they had to be in uncharted territory. Hell, so was I. I died trying to fight a guy that shouldn’t exist. And ya know what? I was pretty cool with dying back there. I tried to do the right thing, and that was enough for me. I went out on a high note. Now I’m back here? For what, to die again?
A jerk in a white lab coat came over and began talking to me, telling me that while it was miraculous that I was alive, I may not survive another injury like that, etcetera and etcetera. All I could think was “may not”? I shouldn’t have survived this one! But I remembered that when I was a kid my uncle pulled me aside and told me “When you die, your life will begin”. I may have been only eight, but I knew crazy talk when I heard it. But then again, apparently not. I remember nodding my head and then breaking my ass to stay far away from good old Uncle James. I wish now that I asked him what the hell he was talking about, told him how being cryptic was not cool. But there is nothing like first hand experience, I suppose.
I tried to sit up, but found that I was strapped to the gurney like some type of mental patient. The guards who had their backs to me were now facing me, guns trained on my head. The doctor or whoever he was went on to talk about how I could be the secret weapon that could stop the destroyer, blah, blah, blah. I couldn’t believe that he was still talking. I just laid back (what else could I do strapped to that table?) and let the guy ramble on.
When he finally finished trying to explain what he knew nothing about, he unhooked my straps and I sat up slowly, as I was advised to do by the guy in charge of the gun wielding soldiers. He said that he was General so and so, and that he was in charge of the operation going forward. So there was a scientist and now the military. If movies taught me anything, it was that the combination of these two elements did not bode well for anybody.
As the General continued to talk, I spent the time wondering if I could get a drink anywhere nearby. I’m sure that my distraction was not in any way a good thing, as he could be telling me something important, but I just didn’t care. I was given a uniform, with my very own camo pants and jacket, and a black t-shirt. The boots that they gave looked terrible as well as too small, so I asked them to get me some sneaks instead. While I waited for my footwear, I changed into the new gear as the general kept talking about a plan to head the destroyer off before he was able to leave the area. He also stated that the military was barely slowing him down and that I was the last, desperate hope. I guess that they had to be desperate considering I was killed the first time. But I decided that worst case, I’d be killed again, and it would stick this time. Or I would save the world and then everyone back home would see that I did something great, and would feel proud or jealous or something. Huh. I can’t believe I called that place “home.”
The general wrapped up his dialogue and handed me a gun. I laughed at him like he had to be kidding just as the soldier returned with my sneaks. I took them from him, but hated the fact that they were Jordans. I didn’t want to go up against that thing in my socks, so I put them on and left the tent or “command center bravo” as it was being referred to, heading in the direction of all the gun shots and screaming. I looked back to see the general and the gun carrying guards now saluting me. The scientist was there too, only he looked worried. Whether it was because he wanted to tag along to see the action or some other reason, I don’t know. But an unhappy scientist was also not a good thing.
The chaos of the destroyer’s attack was getting quieter as I got closer. That had to mean that he had pretty much killed everyone that was attacking him, trying to run away or just happened to be watching his rampage. As I got closer to a cross street, a tank flew by. As I knew that tanks did not yet have any type of airplane caliber propulsion system (and even if they did they would not be upside down) I guessed that the jerk causing all of these problems was still up and about. I turned the corner, and there he was. He was at least seven feet tall, had to be. And he was looking at me, smiling. Like he had just won the lottery or got a free meal at Denny’s. While still wearing that smile he started walking towards me, his fists clenched.
Ugh. My day was about to get longer….
End part two
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