I Cannot Offer You Freedom
Chapter 9
~*~
Clouds roiled overhead, growing darker by the minute and screening out the brilliant sun. The breezes had died down, and the air grew damp and hot. It was the kind of air that seemed to cling to your nostrils and clog your throat; heavy and moist, it was almost tangible. Thunder rumbled threateningly in the distance, an ancient prelude to the coming storm.
Panting a little, Michael ran down the street, outside of the STN-J building for the first time in years. He clutched a gun loaded with Orbo bullets in one hand, his normally cheerful easy-going manner was gone; mouth drawn down into a thin line, eyes bitter and angry, he ran along, taking no heed of the growing storm above.
Minutes passed and as the teenaged boy turned down a dim alley, the clouds above finally bursting, causing the rain to pour down in buckets. Damn . . . Flicking dripping hair out of his eyes, he wiped his glasses off as best he could and continued running, slowing a slightly because of the weather.
Turning one final time, he came face-to-face with a small door stamped with the label, "B-684". A spark of his old determination rekindled in his eyes as he slammed one slim shoulder into the ancient door, watching as it swung noisily inward. Swinging the gun forward and resting his finger against the trigger as he had seen Amon and Sakaki do so many times, Michael took inventory of the room, noting the open door across the way that revealed a stairwell.
Seeing no sign of Miro, he kept the gun poised before him and jogged over to the steps. They creaked and shifted under his weight as he climbed higher and higher, eventually reaching another door. Taking a deep breath to calm his shaking hands, he opened the door and burst out onto the roof of the building, finger ready to fire at the slightest sign of movement.
Wariness flared up within him as he took a few steps forward, eyes scanning the empty roof.
A loud whoosh of air accompanied by the swift smack of a wing sent him sprawling onto the tiles that covered the roof. Chilling laughter froze the very marrow of his bones as he turned blue eyes slowly to view his attacker.
Miro hovered a few feet off the tiles, water dripping off his already water-logged wings. How can he fly in this rain?!
Growling at the mockery in Miro's tone, he swung the gun around and fired, watching as the bullet went horribly awry. The witch's laughter only doubled when he saw the bullet miss him by no less then three feet. "Stupid kid," he managed to get out around the chuckles.
Furious now, the hacker fired two more shots, watching as Miro dodged like he did the day Amon was injured. But something was not right, he only moved enough to let the bullet barely slide past him. The rain slows him down! I bet it also impairs his ability to blow me over . . .
With these thoughts sparking hope in his mind, Michael got up and spun around to face his mother's murderer. My aim isn’t too great, so if I can just get him in close enough to get a better shot . . . His brain working at lightning speed, Michael shot at Miro a few more times, not really trying hit the witch. When he was down to one last bullet, he turned once more and began to run across the slippery roof.
Miro's laughter followed him as powerful wing beats propelled him behind the boy. With a sneer, he knocked him down for the second time that day and watched with glee as the slender form went sprawling.
With a grunt, Michael fell again, his arm smashing into the rain-slicked roof with the force of a freight train. Crying out in pain, he let the gun slip from his grasp, but watched it sharply out of one eye, making sure it did not go skidding away too far. Stars danced before his eyes as the winged man alighted upon the roof and kicked him in the ribs. Wincing, he watched as Miro reached out and wrapped strong hands around his neck, putting pressure on his windpipe. "Goodbye little boy," he leered, yellow eyes dancing with scorn.
"Goodbye," Michael gasped in return, fighting the blackness that was threatening to take him over as the air was slowly squeezed out of him. He reached out one shaking hand towards the gun. Simultaneous pain hit him from both his arm and his throat, but he forced himself to keep reaching until his long fingers brushed the barrel of the firearm
He would have sighed in relief if his throat were not being crushed, but as it was, he settled for bringing the gun up and jabbing the end of it into Miro's torso. He pulled the trigger almost immediately afterwards, hoping against all hope that his fading consciousness and wavering hands hadn't betrayed him.
A look of stunned amazement registered on Miro's face as the bullet entered his body. He gasped a little as his wings drooped and fell limp against his back, their power fading with the entrance of the Orbo into his bloodstream. The dark black feathers covered him like a blanket as he stumbled back a few steps. ". . . What the . . ." he protested, meeting Michael's eyes for the final time.
"You killed my mother," he answered simply, giving into unconsciousness as the taller man toppled over on top of him.
***
Karasuma took her fingers from the open door and said quietly, "He's here alright . . ."
The four members of the STN-J team walked slowly across the room, following the path their hacker had taken less then 45 minutes ago.
Wringing the rain out of her hair, Doujima pressed in closer to Sakaki, her eyes confused and afraid. She didn't even know she was doing it, but unconsciously she was seeking her consolation from the rookie hunter.
Karasuma strode in front of the little group, having taken on the unofficial role of leader now that Amon was gone. It was not a position she desired to be in, for as leader, one could not afford to show much emotion or partiality; she was the strength and center of the group. If she failed they all failed; if she refused to hunt Michael, they all refused, and that would destroy everything they had worked for at the STN.
The handcuffs jingled loudly in her pocket and the tranquilizing gun was held ready in her hands. The brunette's mouth was clamped shut, her jaw clenched, but Robin had seen the pain and regret in her eyes.
Glancing up at the older woman once more, Robin noticed the way the gun wavered and shook in her hands. Mounting the stairs, the young witch hunter tried her best to keep her face outwardly calm, forced her hands to hold her skirts up rigidly and not twist them apprehensively.
The closer they came to the roof, the louder the rain became. At the sight of the open door, the hunters quickened their steps, Sakaki and Doujima pushing ahead to step out first with their guns held at the ready. Robin peered between them and saw the fallen Michael. "Michael!"
Pushing past the older teens, she rushed over to the heap of feathers and flesh, biting her lip as she took stock of the pale boy beneath the comatose witch.
Sakaki rushed up behind her and began yanking at Miro with his good arm, dragging him roughly off Michael by one wing. Karasuma pulled out her phone and called both the Factory and Zaizen; by the time she was done, Miro was sprawled out beside the hacker, still out cold.
Robin gently brushed the rain-soaked hair off Michael's forehead, calling his name softly. The clank of metal sounded next to her and she turned, her hands automatically taking the cuffs Karasuma thrust at her.
Seeing the blank look on her co-worker's face, Karasuma turned away sharply and said in a strained voice, "You should do it . . . he trusts you." The two others took a few steps back also and turned away, their eyes screaming the guilt they could not afford to show otherwise.
I can't do this to Michael . . . he . . . he trusts me, like Karasuma said. If I betray him like this, I don't know what will happen. I can't do this!
But she knew she had no other choice; if she took him back, there was a slight chance Zaizen would spare his life again.
If she left him here, his life would be forfeit to the STN-J.
Her mind resigned, and her heart aching, Robin tenderly took his hands in hers. His eyelids fluttered even as she reached for the handcuffs, and at the first touch of the cold metal on his skin he whispered her name. "Robin . . . ?"
"Shh . . ." she replied, hands slipping on the slick cuffs.
"Wha-what are you doing?" he asked, trying to sit up and wincing at the searing pain in his arm.
"You're hurt," she answered softly, noting his arm. There was a pause. "I have to take you back to the STN-J now." Tears fell now, intermingling with the rain on her cheeks. Her hands shook, slipping even more as she fastened the set of shackles around his feet. "I'm sorry," she whispered, avoiding his eyes.
Lucid enough now to understand what was gong on, the hacker stared up at Robin through water-streaked glasses. "Robin . . ." Betrayal and pain fought for dominance in his mind and pain won, driving deep into his soul. "Robin!"
Her heart breaking, the young girl got to her feet and fled the rooftop, refusing to look back.
Michael stared after her, his eyes haunted, until she disappeared down the stairs. His head fell back, and he dropped once more into darkness, betrayal overwhelming his dreams.
***
Well, I think it must be a world record: This chapter was written entirely in school! ^-^ BWAHAHAHA! And my teachers never noticed.
The reviews keep pouring in, and I just seem to keep getting more and more inspired! You guys rock!
So, I guess that's it for now, until the next chapter!
~Dreamwalker
P.S. And for all you people who so kindly told me in your reviews that you hated Zaizen, well I do too, but every story has to have SOMEone play the "bad guy". T.T I know he's evil and I know he's an "old fart" (brilliant phrase courtesy of NachoManLance ^.^) but I figured I might as well use him. Everyone can send me Zaizen bashing material if they want, I'll just laugh and join right in.
Chapter 10
