Lifeboat

32. Getting Even

Erica shoved me back, I stumbled over my own feet.
"Stay away from me."

Taking in her tear drowned eyes and vicious glare, I understood her need for quiet. We set off along the corridor. My bare feet slapped out the only sound. Hers were bound in silence by soft synthetic footwear. Rounding the next corner I found our way forked into equally sized tunnels, lower in height than the corridor we had passed through. One to the left, the other to the right.

I watched from the corner of my eye as Erica surveyed both choices. Her eyebrows raised on a glance to the right.
"This one." She whispered. "I can sense him down there."

Why would I argue? This creature of nature's evolution possessed an unbound knowledge of the obscure. No human programming could challenge such a gift. Nature had always held the upper hand so why would she concede to be outdone now?

I followed her tall figure down the tunnel. It became darker and tighter the further we progressed.

Hard footsteps from behind sent us running into the gloom. The soft grey material of Erica's dress flew out around her giving the impression of a fleeing ghost. She ran just as silent.

On the tip of my toes I raced to keep up with her. The footsteps grew weaker the further we pulled away.

Erica slammed into an abrupt stop, causing me to crash into her. I bounced off her solid form, my breath forced out from the blow.

"Here."

I shook my head and saw the lighter strips of a door panel framed around her. Without turning, she barked out instructions to me.
"Stay there, flat against the wall. Don't move or say anything unless I tell you. Let me deal with him."
Vibrations in her voice convinced me of her sincerity. However the threat had me worried.

Deal with him?

Why would she have to deal with Dante? If she was on the same mission as her father had been, then I had read the whole situation wrong. She wanted to find him to do him harm. And yet, I didn't believe that. My very core denied the possibility. But if not Dante, then who?

The return of the hard footsteps answered my questions. My skin crawled with every heavy footfall. Awareness of my nudity encroached on my confidence.

Their steady approach waned as the owner came into visual range. My hesitant fear became rapidly replaced by a familiar voice.

"Well, look at what we have here."

The rough bulk of Marco filled the width of the corridor. He sneered, leering at Erica from head to toe. She visibly shivered under his glare. He obviously had no idea who she was or he'd have thought twice about giving her such complacency.

Folding his thick, hairy arms, the short sleeves of his grey World Union shirt strained to contain his over-indulged body. Not for the first time, the thought crossed my mind that I should have guessed that his chubby frame gave him away. Only people on a World Union diet had the possibility to pack on the calories. Everyone else had to get by on the meagre rations they received.

Marco managed to drag his cringy interest away from Erica's elegance and flinched when he noticed me in the shadows.

"Jesus." His voice cracked.

A smile curled at my lip. His unease pleased me, no end. Once the initial shock had worn off, his tone and body stance returned to his usual, brutal self.

"Who flicked your switch on, you crime against nature?"

I held his stare. I had no fear of this man. Not before and certainly not now. He regarded me with his head tilted to one side. The smarmy smirk on his face encouraged me to keep his attention away from Erica's approach.

"You do realise that your programming doesn't allow you to cause any harm to agents of the Union, don't you?"

I grimaced back at him.
"Is that a question or a personal reassurance, Marco?" I spat out his name.

Before he could react to either myself or the encroaching power of Erica's hands around his throat, he crunched to his knees, clutching at his head.

"Ah! For God's sake, make it stop!" He screamed in pain, his face contorted in agony.

Erica growled.

Her long fingers bound around his neck, elegant and deadly. A flash of sympathy rushed through me as I watched his eyes glaze over with unbearable pain.
At least it wouldn't take long.

Saliva dribbled from his quivering bottom lip. His body shook with the force of Erica's attack until he finally collapsed on the cold hard floor. As he lay there, lifeless, I shuffled around so I could catch the last expression on his face.

Erica interrupted me in an icy voice.
"We must move fast. If we don't get going, the alarm on his life tracker will give us away."

"Just, one moment." I leaned in closer to the corpse. Marco's dead eyes screamed with something I had not been expecting to see. Fear.
"Okay," I smiled. "We can go now."

Erica placed her hands flat along the seams of the lit door panel. I heard her breathe out heavily and the panel sprang outwards into the corridor. She stepped back, her foot crunched over Marco's outstretched fingertips.

"Is this what hate feels like?" The hoarse whisper crept from my throat.

She moved her foot away from the corpse and snapped back at me quickly.
"Why?"

I caught her eye, hoping to convey the truthfulness of the sensation I was experiencing.
"Because it feels empty."

Erica swished back to the door and flung back the panel. The light blinded us for a second. I followed her tall figure through the doorway and into a horseshoe shaped room.

The entire convex wall had been constructed into a low, wide bench banked high with sumptuous cushions of dark velvet. At least, it looked like velvet to me.

Erica shifted to my left and I immediately caught sight of a hunched man, sitting on the floor with his back against the bench. Dante. He clung to himself and rocked from side to side.

I stepped past Erica and stretched out my hands to him, unsure whether to touch him or not. I didn't want to startle him in his fragile state. The emancipation of his bare upper torso scratched at my heart.

"Dante?" I spoke gently. "Are you alright?"

Seconds ticked by heavily. With no response.

Erica sprang in close to me, her words rang in my ear.
"Get him up!"

I shook my head, trying to reason why it had to come down to me, but on another level I already knew the answer to that. We were connected, Dante and I. Well before all this began. Even before I arrived on the beach in the lifeboat. All this had been forseen and our paths entrenched forever.

Crouching down next to his broken body, I reached out a hand and tentatively touched his dark bowed head.

"Dante."

He raised his head slowly.