Stigmata
The Freeman
- Joined
- Jun 2, 2003
- Messages
- 15,904
- Reaction score
- 371
Just as a note for those who haven't read my story yet, I've edited the first two parts a tiny bit. No plot changes though, 99.99% of the stuff is still the same. With that said...
////////// PART ONE :: Down the Rabbit Hole
The streets were empty as usual. Enforced curfew was 1800 hours, but Erik had no intention of sticking to the rules. He never did.
He opened his window and stuck a small mirror out into the street, turning it from side to side. The streets were clear, but more importantly the night was dark, and the dark clouds were hinting at rain. Good, he thought, and hoped for a storm.
He checked his jacket pockets for the fifth and final time. In his right pocket was his unbranded sidearm, the logo having worn away from nearly countless street fights. In his left pocket, a small electronic PDA, a blatant infraction of City 17's item ownership laws. He was ready, but could only hope the others were as well. He opened the door and moved out into the street.
Stepping off the curb and into a puddle, Erik briskly walked down the narrow European street. He checked his back every few steps, making sure he wasn't being followed. He had never been this paranoid, but he couldn't help but feel someone, something boring its eyes into the back of his head. He came to a four-way intersection, and looked to the street signs to get his bearings. He had been "transported” more than several times in the past few weeks, and he still couldn't remember which street was where. He checked behind him one last time, and pulled out his PDA. He tapped the screen a few times, and entered his password, a futile attempt at file security. Precious seconds later, a detailed map of the city expanded on his display screen. There, just a few blocks east of here, he thought to himself, and pocketed the data organizer once again. He began his walk, this time moving at a slightly faster pace, and wrapped his hand around the sidearm in his jacket.
* * * * * * * *
A thick storm had fallen over City 17 by the time Erik stopped outside his group's annex. He stood just outside a long alleyway, between a run-down apartment complex and a recently cleaned-out warehouse. Nobody had lived or had even entered these structures for nearly a month, and the Combine patrols had become much scarcer in the area. The one good thing that’s happened since the start of the rebellion. He moved to look back again but checked the motion, confident the rainstorm had sufficiently covered his travel, and walked slowly to the end of the alley.
He came to a stop in front of a large and solid-looking steel dumpster. But looks can be deceiving, as the thick steel plates had been hollowed out, and the object hinged to the ground along the front edge. A perfect trap door for the annex. Erik grabbed the back and heaved the still-heavy dumpster until it swung forward to the end of a chain, bolted to the back of the dumpster and to the dead-end wall behind it. Once it was open as far as it would go, he stepped under it and fell into what could only be described as a ragged hole in the ground.
He hit the floor with a quiet splash as the small slat of grey light slid closed, followed by the hollow clang of the dumpster. The loud noise would easily attract the Scanners, but he would be long gone by the time they showed up to the invisible entrance. Dim light emanated from grates lining the street curbs as Erik made his way through the sewer system. Nobody could get here through the manholes, which were consistently monitored, so he and a group of "Index-dodgers," as they called themselves, drilled the annex entrance after the nearby buildings were cleaned out. From there, anyone could make their way through the intact sewer system to an unused maintenance access way which doubled as the unofficial meeting place for Erik's group of infidels.
The light got consistently dimmer as he moved to the access way until he reached a pitch-black sewer pipe. He reached into his pockets for his pocket flashlight and immediately froze. He had forgotten it in his personal quarters, along with a lighter, matches, and anything that would have helped him create useable light. A quiet sigh escaped his mouth, and he dug into his other pocket for the PDA and activated its backlight. Light glowed from the display and faintly revealed the sewer floor about two feet away. Well, it's better than a match, he told himself, despite the fact it would drain his already dwindling battery life twice as fast as before. The soiled water rippled around his ankles as he walked down the sewer pipe to the access way.
Erik faintly heard a radio crackle, and he froze in his tracks. It sounded like it came from the maintenance passage, and he mulled over the thoughts in his head. None of us have radios, he began to think. And we’ve never used them before. But… Maybe Sabrina stole a few, so we can keep in touch? He smiled to himself. Of course. She’s always been able to steal the Combine’s gear from right under their noses. And how could the Combine have discovered this place so soon? Assured that his thoughts were correct, Erik walked to the end of the sewer, rounded the corner and announced his presence.
"Hey Sabrina, it’s --"
He was face-to-mask with a Combine soldier. "HALT AND RAISE YOUR HANDS, CITIZEN!"
////////// PART ONE :: Down the Rabbit Hole
The streets were empty as usual. Enforced curfew was 1800 hours, but Erik had no intention of sticking to the rules. He never did.
He opened his window and stuck a small mirror out into the street, turning it from side to side. The streets were clear, but more importantly the night was dark, and the dark clouds were hinting at rain. Good, he thought, and hoped for a storm.
He checked his jacket pockets for the fifth and final time. In his right pocket was his unbranded sidearm, the logo having worn away from nearly countless street fights. In his left pocket, a small electronic PDA, a blatant infraction of City 17's item ownership laws. He was ready, but could only hope the others were as well. He opened the door and moved out into the street.
Stepping off the curb and into a puddle, Erik briskly walked down the narrow European street. He checked his back every few steps, making sure he wasn't being followed. He had never been this paranoid, but he couldn't help but feel someone, something boring its eyes into the back of his head. He came to a four-way intersection, and looked to the street signs to get his bearings. He had been "transported” more than several times in the past few weeks, and he still couldn't remember which street was where. He checked behind him one last time, and pulled out his PDA. He tapped the screen a few times, and entered his password, a futile attempt at file security. Precious seconds later, a detailed map of the city expanded on his display screen. There, just a few blocks east of here, he thought to himself, and pocketed the data organizer once again. He began his walk, this time moving at a slightly faster pace, and wrapped his hand around the sidearm in his jacket.
* * * * * * * *
A thick storm had fallen over City 17 by the time Erik stopped outside his group's annex. He stood just outside a long alleyway, between a run-down apartment complex and a recently cleaned-out warehouse. Nobody had lived or had even entered these structures for nearly a month, and the Combine patrols had become much scarcer in the area. The one good thing that’s happened since the start of the rebellion. He moved to look back again but checked the motion, confident the rainstorm had sufficiently covered his travel, and walked slowly to the end of the alley.
He came to a stop in front of a large and solid-looking steel dumpster. But looks can be deceiving, as the thick steel plates had been hollowed out, and the object hinged to the ground along the front edge. A perfect trap door for the annex. Erik grabbed the back and heaved the still-heavy dumpster until it swung forward to the end of a chain, bolted to the back of the dumpster and to the dead-end wall behind it. Once it was open as far as it would go, he stepped under it and fell into what could only be described as a ragged hole in the ground.
He hit the floor with a quiet splash as the small slat of grey light slid closed, followed by the hollow clang of the dumpster. The loud noise would easily attract the Scanners, but he would be long gone by the time they showed up to the invisible entrance. Dim light emanated from grates lining the street curbs as Erik made his way through the sewer system. Nobody could get here through the manholes, which were consistently monitored, so he and a group of "Index-dodgers," as they called themselves, drilled the annex entrance after the nearby buildings were cleaned out. From there, anyone could make their way through the intact sewer system to an unused maintenance access way which doubled as the unofficial meeting place for Erik's group of infidels.
The light got consistently dimmer as he moved to the access way until he reached a pitch-black sewer pipe. He reached into his pockets for his pocket flashlight and immediately froze. He had forgotten it in his personal quarters, along with a lighter, matches, and anything that would have helped him create useable light. A quiet sigh escaped his mouth, and he dug into his other pocket for the PDA and activated its backlight. Light glowed from the display and faintly revealed the sewer floor about two feet away. Well, it's better than a match, he told himself, despite the fact it would drain his already dwindling battery life twice as fast as before. The soiled water rippled around his ankles as he walked down the sewer pipe to the access way.
Erik faintly heard a radio crackle, and he froze in his tracks. It sounded like it came from the maintenance passage, and he mulled over the thoughts in his head. None of us have radios, he began to think. And we’ve never used them before. But… Maybe Sabrina stole a few, so we can keep in touch? He smiled to himself. Of course. She’s always been able to steal the Combine’s gear from right under their noses. And how could the Combine have discovered this place so soon? Assured that his thoughts were correct, Erik walked to the end of the sewer, rounded the corner and announced his presence.
"Hey Sabrina, it’s --"
He was face-to-mask with a Combine soldier. "HALT AND RAISE YOUR HANDS, CITIZEN!"
good stuff keep it comming.
