The driver leaps from the van, slams a small metal box onto the sidewall and returns to her seat behind the wheel. #03 makes eye contact with the dark-haired woman who drugged him.
“Cloaking device.” she offers while removing his restraints.
“Are you fucking serious?” he poses.
The driver quickly pops something into her mouth and swallows, turns and reaches out to the woman, dropping two capsules into her hand. She tosses one in and hands the other to the man - he’s reluctant.
“What is that, a suicide pill?” he snaps.
“Take it!” the woman commands.
“Fuck that!”
She raises her machine gun to his head. He relents.
The driver passes the woman a half-full bottle of water, she takes a drink to wash the cap down and hands it to #03 who follows suit.
“They’re to mask body heat signatures.” she says, giving him daggers.
The van door is left open for air, they all remain inside.
“So what now? What exactly are we doing?” he questions.
“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” the woman relays grimly.
“And how the hell did you know where to find me?”
“Extinction level event. You know what that means?” she goes on.
“I saw you! At a building, burning bodies of women and children!”
The man feels around on the back of his neck, there’s a bandage over a sore spot. He rips it off and runs his fingers over a few small stitches.
“What did you do?” he yells.
“Chip removal.” the woman answers.
“The hell you did!”
“Incision was fresh, must’ve happened today. You didn’t know?”
#03 recollects his morning - the incident, hitting the floor, the nosebleed, waking up in a bed down the hall.
“That tech they installed at the base of your skull - it was to be used without your knowledge, or consent.”
“How?” he asks.
“You were going to be their very own crystal ball. A two-way mirror. Probably jack in to you during sleep. You never would have known.”
“Why? I was on-board with the sessions, I was helping them!” he exclaims.
“For now.”
“You say that like you know something I don’t.”
The woman lays her gun down on a wooden box beside her.
“The bodies you saw being burned - they were failed experiments.” she says.
“What kind of experiments?” he asks.
“DNA cross-pollination.”
His expression, quizzical.
“Inter-species hybrids.” she informs.
The man scoffs loudly.
“You actually expect me to believe that?”
“I broke every protocol, committed every form of treason to try and save as many of them as I could - but I wasn’t enough.”
A helicopter passes overhead. The man panics, moves away from the open door. The bird flies on into the distance.
“Maybe you don’t know as much as you think?” she challenges.
“If we were visible right now, that bird would’ve killed us from the air.” she continues.
He crawls back to his spot by the door.
“It’s humanity’s overblown ego - we place far more importance upon ourselves than we merit. We’re ants to them, no, roaches - that once were useful, but no longer.”
“Them? Who are them?” he asks.
“I have neither the time nor patience to explain, so it will have to be enough to just say - an off-world interest.”
“Aliens? Is that what you mean?” he guffaws.
“We’ve become a problem. More trouble than our worth. So they’re cutting their losses.”
“Wait a goddamn minute!” he spouts.
The woman finishes the bottle.
“For the sake of argument, let’s just say there are aliens, how do they expect to come and obliterate billions of people?”
“With technology a thousand years more advanced than our own.”
Emotion wells up in the man.
“We were only an experiment.” she says softly, shaking her head.
“So they’re just going to end humanity? Like that?”
“Yes.” she replies flatly.
“NO! This can’t be real! It makes no sense!”
“It doesn’t have to. It was done simply because it could be. Now it’s over.”
The woman climbs from the van, takes several steps in a wide semi-circle, scans the surrounding area and sky. Once back at the vehicle, she stands in the open door.
“We’ve got about three minutes so I need to know right now - are you in or out?”
“In or out of what?” #03 retorts.
“A mile past those trees, there’s a mountain with an entry point. Not saying it’ll work but it’s all we’ve got.”
“You’re gonna save us from global decimation by driving into a fucking mountain?” he asks, incredulously.
“No, not me - but that might.” she says, nodding to the oblong wooden box in the back of the van.
She jumps inside and takes her seat. #03 sits confounded.
“So either shut the door or be on your way.”
#03 looks out at the peaceful wooded setting and sighs before sliding the door shut.
The engine turns over and the dark blue van makes dust down the dirt path as it gradually disappears into the trees.
The six-foot-high black industrial gate was certainly out of place, more so was the electronic code entry keypad. Secrets. The kind for which people would often be killed to keep.
The tall, dark-haired lady stands aside as the young woman drives the van past and stops - the gate is secured and the armed woman jumps back inside.
They advance cautiously through the densely wooded area until a clearing presents itself. A few more crooks in the trail and the mountain entry point would be in view. Just over the next rise. On the descent - all things were negated.
Obstructing the path are two blacked-out vans and six heavily armed men in fatigues. Two soldiers approach the van and order the occupants out. All three captives have their hands restrained behind them and are pushed down onto their knees.
#57 exits one of the government-issued vehicles. The young woman driver is blank faced as tears run. #03’s eyes dart wildly. The dark-haired woman is without any show of emotion.
The agent stops in front of them, nods at the soldier to his nearest left - single rifle shot to the head of the young female driver. Her body catapults astern, landing crumpled on the ground.
“Stop!” #03 screeches.
#57 takes several paces and turns, removes his shades and cuts into the man on his knees.
“Why are you doing this?” he puzzles.
#57 nods a second time, the same soldier raises his weapon and drops the woman beside #03.
“No! Wait!” he screams.
#57 endeavors a slow and menacing gait towards #03. Only inches away - leering down at him - intimidating, denigrating.
“Are you still of any use to me?” he asks.
#03’s breath is labored, face twitching, sweat pouring.
“What do you want?” he cries desperately.
The agent’s prolonged silence destroys him by degrees. He moves leisurely away from the terrified man.
Two of the soldiers carefully remove the long wooden box from the dark blue van and secure it inside one of the blacked-out vehicles.
A very tense stand-off. #03 on the verge of collapse. #57 icing him down ten yards away. The agent nods to a soldier and climbs back into one of the vans.
The uniformed man stomps over to #03, pulls him to his feet and marches him to one of the vehicles, opens the back doors, pushes him inside and slams them shut.
Both engines roar and the two black vans speed away in opposite directions.
