Seneca Rebel

THIS MOMENT WITH Dom and me on the Brooklyn Bridge was exactly why they say you should be in “the now.” Neither the past nor the future mattered. But, moments like that, feelings like that, have to be fleeting. We couldn’t expect the world to stop for our passions to unfold. So, it was time to tell him everything. I didn’t know where to begin. He did–

“How did you find me?”

“After you were banished to the Aboves, I had to do something. I had to figure out what they were computing with those blood nanobots. I snuck back into your lab, and S.O.I.L. caught me, but not before I found my way into the mainframe.

Not just to your data, but to everyone’s in Seneca.”

“You’re incredible.”

Dom wasn’t shocked. He was impressed.

I started to blush as a new realization dawned on him, “My flexer.”

“Don’t worry, I re-routed our flexers to piggyback randomized flexers. We’re good.”

He looked over my shoulder. I saw a terror in his eyes, and turned to see two men running down the bridge, straight towards us. We weren’t good. They weren’t in blue, but we knew they were S.O.I.L. I looked back at Dom. He was peering down at the road below– two matte black SUVs were right below, trailing us.

He grabbed my hand and we took off towards Brooklyn.

“Stay with me!”

I grasped his hand tight, weaving through throngs of foot traffic on the bridge. The SUVs cruised right alongside us. I turned to look behind us. S.O.I.L. was closing in. We were no physical match for what were probably two former Navy Seals.

“Don’t look back! Just keep up with me, Doro!”

No choice but to rally my hidden inner-athlete. Wait, there wasn’t one. I had to trust Dom to get us out of here. We were nearing the end of the bridge when he abruptly stopped. A matte black flighter hovered ahead of us. Dom looked back, the S.O.I.L. officers were twenty-five yards away, sprinting toward us at full speed. “Hold my hand, don’t let go.”

I looked down. It was a really long daredevil drop to the water. It seemed like our only option. Beads of sweat beaded along my hairline and trickled down my temples.

“Come on!” Dom hollered as he clambered up onto a steel plank that extended above the roadway below. “Watch your step.” I followed, petrified. Now I was in a full body sweat. I had always prided myself on being gutsy, but this was way out of my league. If we fall, we die. I wasn’t ready to die. “You got this, Doro!”

We were directly above the Brooklyn Bridge traffic that moved at roughly twenty miles per hour. My heart raced, my adrenaline cranked.

“It’s now or never.”

He wanted me to jump.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

I tightened my grip on his hand. The S.O.I.L. officers closed the gap, now ten feet away, “Stop where you are!” “1-2-3 go!” He bellowed.

We jumped! As we crashed onto the road below, cars swerved to dodge us. Dom took my shoulders and forced me behind him, protecting me from oncoming traffic. I screamed bloody murder. Not in a million years, or even my craziest dreams, did I picture myself doing something this insane. I clenched my eyes closed as the sound of horns zooming by freaked me out. I desperately wanted it to end.

“I got you, Doro! Stay with me!” I put all my trust in him, but that didn’t stop the sheer terror I felt. I could conquer any computation system, but this physical test was too much. I was standing in the middle of oncoming traffic, on top of a bridge, in the looming darkness. What was next? I couldn’t keep myself from crying.

“Okay, focus! Look at me, Doro, look at me!”

I looked up at him through the haziness of tears streaking down the side of my face. My mouth was dry and lips chapped from the force of wind. Dom darted his eyes to the plank where we had just stood. The S.O.I.L. officers weren’t walking out onto it like we so recklessly had. Instead they peered down at us as they communicated to someone on a flexer.

Dom shouted so I could hear him, but he was calm. “Run as fast as you ever have.”

“I can’t!”

“You can! Just hold my hand and stay on this yellow line.” His look channeled courage my way. I gritted my teeth, forced myself to stop crying and let out the most unattractive, guttural call for power. I heard my dad’s voice reminding me I had this, and knew I could do this on my own. I didn’t need his hand, but I kept our grip because I wanted him to know he had my trust. We ran full steam ahead between the lanes of oncoming traffic.

Cars screeched out of the way. People yelled from their windows, but nothing could stop us. An irate man jumped out from a driver’s seat, “Are you kids insane?!” I was riding my adrenaline now.

We ran the way we’d come, back into Manhattan. Dom slowed to a stop. He kept a hold of my arm. I was amped up.

“Ahhh! That was the craziest thing I’ve ever done!”

“We’re just warming up!” Dom’s tenacity ignited me.

We both turned at the sound of wheels screeching. The two SUV’s were coming back down the bridge against oncoming traffic, smashing into any car that didn’t move out of their indignant path. The S.O.I.L. men on foot were trying to push through dense foot traffic to get back down the bridge too.

We scanned our surroundings.

The matte black flighter swooped in and hovered just above us. A suicide door lifted on the shotgun side. It was Gregory. Dangerously deadpan, he shouted out above the din, “You’re wasting your energy.”

My last meeting with Gregory certainly hadn’t been the most pleasant, and now it couldn’t have been more glaring that his mission was to mute us permanently.

“And you’re wasting your time,” I retorted, nudging Dom to follow me. I bolted down onto the bike and footpath that ran along the bank of the East River, and away from Gregory.

The rising lights of the city illuminated our path on the greenway. The trees still held just enough fall foliage of deep orange, magenta and maroon to block the flighter’s view, and we had lost the SUVs– we thought. We hoped. One mile down, we panted for breath.

We reached a bumping barbecue of about thirty young professionals, eating, drinking and having a good time and tried to blend in with them— not the easiest task when you’re in the fight of your life. The flighter was just overhead. In a desperate effort to camouflage ourselves further, Dom and I dove down and huddled beneath one of the recycled plastic picnic tables speckled along the river. The flighter continued along the path down the river. For a few seconds we thought we were in the clear, but then it stopped about a hundred yards down from where we crouched and just hovered there.

“Looks like we got us some underage party crashers!” Leave it to a drunk guy in a suit to call us out. We looked like a couple of jail-breaking orphans hiding under that picnic table. A few people laughed and offered us beers. Others told us to get lost.

The flighter busted a U, apparently figuring that we couldn’t have made it in the other direction. It began to creep back our way.

I spotted a gas station through the trees across the street. “I have an idea, come on!”

Dom and I gave one another quick nods and climbed out from under the picnic table. He grabbed a freshly opened bottle of water right out of a guy’s hand–

“Hey!”

And we ran.

We made it to the station. Sharing the water, we looked back to see the flighter landing alongside the barbecue on the riverbank.

Every pump at the gas station was in use. I scanned each one and picked up on the oldest car in the lot– a little white Toyota Prius from just after the turn of the millennium.

“Oh man.” Dom said. His attention was on people from the barbecue who pointed in our direction. Gregory was there, standing outside the flighter, looking at the gas station through night vision binoculars. We ducked down behind the Prius.

“Psst, hey!”

A guy in his late twenties put the gas nozzle back on its pump. “Nope, sorry, don’t have any money. Isn’t that obvious?” He motioned to his old clunker. It was worth its weight in gold to Dom and me.

“Let me change that.” I reached into my backpack and pulled out the wad of cash.

The stranger’s eyes widened incredulously. “Whoa,” he and Dom exclaimed in unison.

“What’s it worth to you?”

“Well I paid almost a grand for it six months ago, and just spent three fifty filling up, sooo...”

“How’s five grand?”