Subject Nightingale 1: Birth and Death (9 page)

“
Now that we got
that
out of the way,” he muttered to himself.

Jonny smiled as he watched Nightingale run away from the building. “Good,” he whispered, “remember what Michaela told you...”

“It's time to turn yourself in, California,” Garland said, he and his squad swinging their weapons around to aim at Jonny. “Surrender or die, soldier.”

“
Actually, Garland,” Jonny said, but he could barely raise his voice above a pained groan, “I was thinking it may be my turn.”

“
Your turn for
what
?” Garland asked.

“
You see, the good half of my squad, Theo and Michaela, they gave their lives to protect that girl...”

“
Don't do anything foolish, California.”

“
But somewhere along the way, the order got mixed up. A good leader always takes point—that's something you can understand, right?” Jonny's thumb touched the detonator's trigger.

“
Dammit! Heavy Guard, fall back! Retreat!” Garland ordered, and his squad rushed for the exit.

“
%$#@!^& glitches,” Tommy said, grunting and groaning as he struggled to his feet.

“
Someone's saving me a seat, and I don't wanna be late.”

Jonny pressed the trigger.

Chapter 9
Run, Run, and then Run Some More
 

Nightingale just ran.

Her surroundings hardly seemed to change as she put distance between herself and the Lab. Everywhere she looked, impossibly tall buildings constructed of the same white metal reached toward that disc in the sky. Massive black
ECHO
trucks and vans surrounded the property, forming a barrier and secure checkpoints, but the armed guards ignored her on Garland's command. She ran right by two guards who didn't even seem to notice her, and then stopped dead in her tracks when an explosion rocked the area.

“
Jonny?” she said, and almost looked back.

But she resumed her sprint instead. She didn't have a destination in mind—she didn't
know
any destinations to begin with—so she just ran, like Jonny said.

She sprinted between rows of sleek and polished cars, running through a massive parking lot, keeping her eyes on the patches of sky miles away.

There must be something there
, she thought.
Anything!

Her legs burnt, but didn't give out; her lungs worked overtime, but she didn't have trouble breathing. She had no idea how long she had been running before the edge of the parking lot crept into sight, and her eyes landed on a new target: a tunnel built into a giant concrete wall.

The armed guards raised a four-foot solid steel barricade from the ground and lifted their rifles when they saw Nightingale approaching.

Just let me pass, just let me pass!
she repeated in her panicked mind, not slowing down for even an instant.

The guards lowered their weapons and the barricade sunk back into the concrete, and she didn't stop to wonder why.

She just kept moving.

The dim tunnel sloped down, twisting and turning, and periodically branched off at another guarded checkpoint. Green signs with white lettering pointed at the different exits and entrances, and the farther she ran, the more cars she encountered. They weren't like the slick cars of the parking lot, though—many of them appeared rather old, and their quality continued to decline as she ran deeper and deeper into the tunnel.

The exhaust fumes began to grow thick, and Nightingale began to cough. The bird on her shoulder began to chirp worriedly, and then something that sounded like a gunshot rang through the tunnel. She jumped and ran faster, and turned right at the next checkpoint. The guards didn't even glance at her as she bolted by, and soon she was back in fresh air.

She could hardly see the sky in the distance anymore. The view was blocked by buildings and apartments of varying sizes, constructed of red and brown bricks and reinforced by haphazardly placed wooden planks. Broken, taped, and boarded up windows lined their walls, and the paved streets and sidewalks were cracked and pockmarked with signs of aging and disrepair.

A gentle rain fell over the area, filling the spots of missing pavement and soaking Nightingale as she continued to run. There weren't many citizens out and about or too many cars on the street, so she continued uninterrupted—she had no idea for how long, but it felt like forever.

She eventually ducked into an alleyway between two apartment buildings, and continued to run until her path was blocked by a tall chain-link fence. Her eyes went wide and she grabbed it with both hands, giving it a good shake before gasping and turning around quickly.

There was absolutely no one behind her.

Nightingale assumed there would be guards chasing her, she had passed so many checkpoints... She was beyond relieved to be alone, however. She let out a sigh of relief and pushed her hair back with both hands, combing the matted strands away from her face with her fingernails.

“How far did he want me to run?” she asked the bird on her shoulder—but it just cocked its head to the side and chirped. “And what am I supposed to do once I can't run anymore?” This next question was asked through quivering lips as the reality of her situation sunk in.

She was lost. She had no memories of herself—who she is, where she came from, where she can go to be home, or even safe... Does anyone know her? Does she have any friends, or did they all die getting her out of that building?

“Michaela...” she muttered, staring down at the medical kit she now clutched protectively to her chest. Tears mixed with the rain on her face, and she sniffled.

Suddenly, the day caught up with her. Her limbs burnt and she slid down the gate to a sitting position, panting in heavy breaths as her lungs seized up from the exhaustion of running so many miles without a break. She groaned
and coughed, her throat and mouth completely dry. She doubted there was anything to cure such exhaustion in the medical kit, so she looked around her immediate vicinity.

A few tin trash cans and black bags of garbage were piled in the corner, right next to an upside down, red and white umbrella. It appeared to be in mostly good condition, and was overflowing with rainwater.

“Think it's clean?” Nightingale whispered, unable to raise her voice any louder.

She reached one tired arm toward the edge of the umbrella; it was just out of her reach, but it closed the gap itself and touched her fingertips. She pulled it closer and leaned toward the water, inspecting it carefully. It looked clean enough—it was clear, and she couldn't see anything foreign floating around... The nightingale hopped off her shoulder and perched on the edge of the umbrella, and began drinking it first.

“Hey, wait,” Nightingale said, “we don't even know if it's safe.”

She was so thirsty, though, and the bird didn't immediately keel over... So she leaned in close and cupped her hands together, scooping out an experimental handful and sipping it down.

It tasted so fresh!

Nightingale's eyes lit up and she leaned her face toward the umbrella, pursing her lips and gulping down as much water as she could. She drank by the mouthful, and then stifled a quiet belch once she was sufficiently hydrated.

She sighed and leaned back against the fence, and her stomach began to protest her hunger next. She had no idea when she had last eaten. The soreness in her limbs was quickly fading, though; she could sense the nanobots that Metzger had put in her restoring her muscle strength, and her thoughts drifted to that monster—Phellman, completely overcome by the very same
things
that were in her...

“
What are we gonna do?” she asked, panning her gaze to the bird as it perched back on her shoulder. She had too much going on. She was exhausted, but she wasn't tired; every muscle in her body ached, but she could physically feel them recovering; she was lost, shivering in a freezing rain, and as far as she knew, there may be people hunting her. Her eyelids were growing heavier by the second; she was having trouble keeping them open.

The full extent of the day's exhaustion and emotion had caught up with her all at once. She knew that sleep—perhaps more aptly described as
losing consciousness
—was inevitable. All she could do was think quickly and do her best to warm up and dry off.

She grabbed the umbrella and turned it right-side up, dumping the water out. She stuck its handle through one of the links in the fence behind herself, successfully propping it up above her head as a makeshift roof. It kept her bird entirely dry, and herself mostly.

She hugged her legs to her chest, and fell asleep against the fence at the end of the alley.

Chapter 10
The Girls Who Were Almost Sisters
 

Nightingale was woken some time later to something tugging at the medical kit strapped around her torso. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw a small hand reaching into the pouch, and she heaved the bag away.

“Get away from me!” she shouted, and the hand retracted immediately. She followed it to its owner—a young girl, she couldn't have been more than twelve years old—falling flat on her rear and sliding a few feet across the pavement.

“
Ouch, hey!” she shouted.

“
Hey, quit it!” An older girl, she looked to be around Nightingale's age, knelt beside the younger one and cradled her in her arms. “You don't gotta push her around, she's just a kid!”

“
It's okay, she didn't push me,” the younger girl said as she was helped to her feet. “I just fell, or...something... Somehow... And slid, I guess?” She looked up at the older girl and shrugged.

The older girl stared at Nightingale defiantly and held the younger one protectively. “Keep it to yourself, okay!?”

“She was trying to take stuff outta my bag!” Nightingale rebutted, examining the contents of the kit before zipping it back up securely. It didn't look like anything was missing.

“
Whisper, is that true!?” the older girl looked down at the younger girl—Whisper.

“
W-well, I, um...” Whisper stammered for a moment, looking between Nightingale and the older girl. “It's got a red cross on it—that means it's got bandages in it, right?” She kicked at the ground nervously with the toe of her black boot. “I was just looking, Elise... I wasn't gonna steal anything, I promise!”

Elise sighed and shook her head, and grabbed one of Whisper's two long ponytails. Her nearly waist-long hair was black and streaked with dark purple, and Elise gave it a firm tug. “How many times do I gotta tell you!?”

Whisper squealed and grabbed her hair closer to her head to pull counter to Elise's tugging and lessen the pain. “Quit it, Elise, that hurts!”

“
That's the point!” Elise said as she continued to tug her hair. “It's not polite to look through someone else's things, so apologize!”

“
I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Whisper immediately caved, and Elise released her hair.

Nightingale just watched, mostly confused by the scene unfolding before her. She began shivering when a chilly breeze picked up, and hugged her legs to her chest for warmth; her clothes were dry, and then she noticed that the rain had stopped.

“I'm sorry about that,” Elise said to Nightingale next. “She's just trying to help. We can get pretty scraped up sometimes while looking for supplies.”

“
It's...okay,” Nightingale said a bit pensively. She pulled the umbrella out of the fence and placed it aside so she could see the girls fully.

“
That's a pretty clever trick,” Elise said. “An umbrella in a fence can be a good night's sleep if you're new to the streets, but it won't do much to protect you from the cold.”

“
New to the streets?” Nightingale asked, staring up at her. Whisper was suddenly preoccupied with untangling her long hair.

“
Yeah, you're new, right?” she asked. “Newly homeless?”

“
I'm not homeless.” Nightingale shook her head.

“
Oh, you're not?” Elise responded, one eyebrow lifting curiously. “Where do you live, then?”

“
Well, I...” Nightingale frowned thoughtfully and her gaze drifted toward the ground. “I'm, um... I don't know... I came from higher up, I was running, and now—”

“
You came from up top!?” Whisper said excitedly. “How high up!?”

“
What?” Nightingale looked at Whisper. “Um, I don't know... I think I passed maybe a dozen checkpoints?”

“
A dozen!?” Whisper shouted, eyes wide in disbelief, and then she looked up at Elise. “Elise, how much is a dozen!?”

“
It's twelve,” she answered Whisper, and then looked at Nightingale skeptically. “You came down to White Rain Falls from twelve levels up?”

“
She's rich! That means she's rich, right!?” Whisper asked.

“
She's not rich, Whisper, she's sleeping in an alley.”

“
Will you please just leave me alone?” Nightingale said next. She didn't know what these girls wanted, but
she
just wanted to be left alone.

“
Aw, drat, I thought we were gonna get a reward for finding her or something,” Whisper said, and then grabbed Elise's hand. “Come on, we don't have much time left if we wanna find you some new pants.”

“
Alright, Whisper,” Elise said, and turned to leave Nightingale to her own business.

That's when Nightingale noticed the tear in Elise's pant leg. The calf was sporting a large rip, and a particularly nasty scrape was bleeding down her leg and staining the denim a darker shade.

She sighed and looked down at the medical kit in her hands, and remembered what Michaela had told her. She remembered what she said about there being so many children here who need help—who don't have anyone to look after them... She unzipped the pouch and inspected its contents thoughtfully, and then looked at the bird on her shoulder.

“
What do you think?” she asked quietly, and it chirped happily. “Hey, come back!” she called out next, and the girls turned around.

“
Yeah?” Elise responded.

Nightingale tried to stand and go after the girls, but her legs felt like rubber and she just fell back down. She was fatigued from hunger, and could hardly stand on her own. “I can patch you up,” she said, her voice suddenly weak when she realized her hunger. She grabbed the fence behind herself and tried to pull herself to her feet.

“Really!?” Whisper shouted and rushed back over.

Elise was suddenly more concerned for Nightingale, though. “Don't try to stand!” she said, following Whisper. “Look at you, you look starved... When's the last time you ate?”

“I don't know,” Nightingale answered.

“
You don't know when the last time you ate was?” Whisper asked.

“
When's the last time you at least drank something?” Elise asked next.

“
It was raining just before I fell asleep, I drank then.”

“
It hasn't rained for two days!” Elise said, shocked, as she knelt and pulled the backpack off her back. She placed it on the ground and unzipped it, and retrieved a bottle of water. “Here, drink this.”

Nightingale nodded and took the bottle. It was a bit smudged with dirt and it looked a little old, but the water inside looked clean enough. She twisted off the cap and chugged its entire contents while Elise was looking through her bag for something else.

“Hey!” Elise frowned when she noticed that Nightingale had drunk the entire bottle. “That was supposed to last me all day!”

“
Sorry...” Nightingale handed the bottle back, and Elise handed her a couple dinner rolls in exchange.

“
It's not dinner time yet, so I can only give you this. But it's been days since you've eaten, so it should be plenty for now. Eat too much, too quickly, and you'll get sick.”

Nightingale nodded and took her time eating the bread.

“Can we have the bandages yet?” Whisper asked. She had been waiting patiently, but now that Nightingale was properly tended to she thought it safe to ask.

“
Be patient, Whisper!” Elise scolded, and Whisper folded her arms with a bit of a huff.

Nightingale almost instantly felt better after eating, as little food as it was. “Thank you,” she said, shifting to sit on her knees. “Let me see your leg.”

Elise sat in front of Nightingale and lifted her pant leg carefully, wincing slightly when the fabric brushed her scrape. She rotated her leg so she could see the wound and to give her better access. “How's it look, Doc?” she asked.

“
It doesn't look too bad,” Nightingale answered as she opened up her kit and retrieved a few items. She breathed out a slightly jagged breath and shut her eyes when images of Michaela using the supplies to patch up the rest of Glitch squad rushed through her mind, and she couldn't help but smile.

“
Do you know what you're doing?” Whisper asked, trying to peer into the bag to get a sense of exactly what it held. She squatted beside her to watch, holding on to the straps of her own backpack.

“
Yeah, I do,” Nightingale answered. “I had a good teacher...” She removed a sterile pad from the kit and tore it open, and used it to wash the scrape and around it. After that it was as simple as wrapping some gauze around Elise's leg, and then taping it in place. She felt like she had seen Michaela repeat this same process hundreds of times.

“
Perfect!” Elise said, and she smiled at Whisper. “See? Good as new.”

“
Yeah!” Whisper said with a bit of a cheer. “Thanks—” she cut herself short and changed tracks, “—hey, what's your name?”

“
Nightingale,” she answered as she piled the items back into the kit, and zipped it shut.

“
Well thanks, Nightingale! I'm Whisper, and this is my sister, Elise!”

“
You're sisters?” Nightingale asked slightly skeptically, looking between the two girls.

Elise's shoulder-length hair was amber in color, and her eyes matched. She wore an oversized black peacoat that looked particularly warm, and a recently torn pair of jeans.

Whisper's eyes, on the other hand, were bright blue, and
nothing
about this girl matched. In addition to her aforementioned black and purple hair, she wore a fitted denim jacket over a black-and-white striped T-shirt, and a baggy pair of red cargo shorts. Even her knee-high socks were mismatched: one was red- and black-striped, and the other sported a dark-blue and gray argyle pattern.

She couldn't see a resemblance between them, physically or personality-wise.

“Yeah, we're sisters!” Whisper suddenly shouted, lifting her fist in an empty threat. “You got a problem with that!?”

“
Whisper,” Elise said firmly, and Whisper immediately backed down. She pulled her pant leg down, carefully over the gauze, and stood. “Thanks for patching me up,” she said next. “Come on, we've gotta find more food and water.”

Whisper sprung to her feet and grabbed Elise's hand, and Nightingale just stared up at them.

“We've gotta find you some new clothes, too; you look like you're covered in blood.” Elise didn't even consider the possibility that the red stains on Nightingale's white outfit were
actually
blood.

“
Oh, yeah, I...” Nightingale said, looking down at her shirt, “I had a nose bleed...”

Elise chuckled, and after that, the girls just stared at each other for several moments in silence.

“Well?” Elise eventually said.

“
Well...” Nightingale repeated a bit nervously, slowly clutching her fingers around her medical kit. She was suddenly worried that they were going to try to steal it.

“
Come on, Nightingale!” Whisper said and grabbed her hand to pull her to her feet. “The pit's gonna be cleared out soon, we gotta get moving!”

“
Oh, I'm coming with you!” Nightingale vocalized her realization.

“
Of course you are!” Whisper helped her up and the three of them started toward the street. “We can help each other out, so we gotta stick together from now on!”

“
A-are you sure?” Nightingale asked as she allowed Whisper to lead her.

“
Totally! You've been asleep in this alley for days, you almost starved to death! You look like you're covered in blood, you're freezing cold, and you're walking around with a bag full of medical supplies—you were
this
close to having your dead body picked over by scavengers!”

Nightingale's eyes widened and she shot Elise a worried glance.

“That wasn't gonna happen!” Elise said, reaching her free hand over to tug one of Whisper's ponytails. “She's just got an active imagination, it's from all those comic books!”

“
Ouch!” Whisper pulled her head away.

“
But it can be tough sometimes,” Elise said. “When you're out on the streets, it can be easy to lose what little you have if you don't hold on to it. Not everyone plays by the rules, and there's strength in numbers.”

Nightingale nodded slowly, thinking about what Elise was saying as they walked down the street. The sidewalks were more crowded, foot traffic even spilling into the street. There were so few cars, though, it hardly mattered.

“So you're welcome to stay with us for as long as you'd like. We can help each other out,” Elise finished up her thought.

“
What do you think?” Nightingale asked quietly, craning her neck to look at her bird. It had been mostly in her hair up until now, slowly creeping out into view as it began to trust the girls. Sticking with them didn't seem like such a bad idea—they appeared nice enough, and pretty eager to help... She didn't have any idea where to get food or water, or anything else for that matter, but they seemed to have it figured out...