A New Age

Artificial light glanced off the reinforced silver siding, the snow-white train silently gliding to a smooth stop before me. I stood poised but breathing heavily, my chest heaving as sweat trickled in irritating streams down the nape of my neck and back. The white jumpsuit that I wore clinging like a second skin.

Oh yes, very breathable, not. I wasn't surprised.

After running for so long, my legs burnt with the kind of ache that would have made even the most independent, wish for another to carry them off in an exhausted, hazy fantasy. Not to mention the pounding of my blood had settled into a headache, my communication implant fading out.

On edge and waiting, I suddenly heard their running footsteps again as the doors slid back. Taking a couple of steps forward, I jumped from where I was, landing hard just as I heard the ping of a bullet glancing off one of the doors.

Twisting around on the metal lip of the train, both hands already raised, I could feel the telekinetic energy pulse as I sent the determined guy flying onto the tracks, with brutal force. I watched as his gun flew out of his hand, smashing into the platform wall. A small ribbon of flame whipping past my face as he attempted to attack me one last time, before he finally fell onto the lines, where he lay unnaturally and unmoving. Expressionless and still panting, I turned away, slouching back.

The train doors shut decisively, and in moments we were comfortably sliding along at unfathomable speeds. The aggressive stranger's, no-doubt mutilated body becoming just another forgotten memory.

Slowly moving along, I entered a private pod. Scanning the implant in my left wrist with a lazy flick, I shut the door behind me, listening to the soft hiss as it locked. Falling backwards into the soft and sumptuous seating, I waved my hand at the dust that rose like a poisonous cloud, lingering in the air. The outlying cities, now numbered sectors with their mix of old and new technology, were often either arid and in despair, or slick in the aftermath of a storm or torrential downpour.

Letting my eyes close for a moment, I enjoyed the air conditioning. A welcome break from the humid, sweat-soaked atmosphere of sector seven. The dregs of a broken down and fearful society still echoed in pockets of most of the old sectors - and despite information stating otherwise, there were no signs of those that had been reported to be murdering others like myself.

It seems as though I got chased for miles, just for the sheer thrill of it. Aren't I lucky. I almost snorted at thought.

It seemed that those of us that had evolved with the ability to use one form or another of telekinesis, were being hunted. There was also the mysterious and recurring stories of the appearance of two male figures. The duo always seemed to be near-by when the killing sprees began. Yet no-one could remember anything more about either of them, which admittedly only intrigued me further.

Although the very same people that I'd spoken to then had gone on to describe in great detail, the exact same thing when speaking of the actual gruesome murders.

I sighed in impatience as I rolled my shoulders.

It was always the same, the appearance of bright white light and wild flames, painting the sight as almost biblical. They'd also said that the wielders of such power had been either snarling and aggressive, or completely unresponsive. I had seen the genuine horror in their eyes as they had spoken. It was very rare for witnesses to ever give such cohesive statements, and yet they had. After that, I'd been chased for two miles, all the while heading for the underground bullet train.

Throwing my head back with another sigh, I opened my eyes and looked down to give myself the once over. I was filthy, covered in sweat and grime. The dust and sand had become a third skin over my jumpsuit, but one that was tight and cracked like the parched desert ground, yet far less attractive.

I snorted irritably at the thought of having to shower at the private locker station. The morning and afternoon had been a long one, and the day still wasn't over. I had yet to track down another target and tag him. Though it shouldn't be too difficult, the worst part was finding him amongst the crowds in the underground club, Bluebird.

Rubbing my eyes, I realised that we'd come to a stop as I glanced out of the window to see the growing darkness. The windows often seemed pointless as the bullet train was far too fast to actually see anything. I stood as the usual announcement sounded. Unlocking the door with its familiar hiss, I left the pod, heading straight for the small coded door beneath the stairs that led back up to the surface.

Exhaustion dragged at my heels like a lead weight as I pushed through the door, stripping off to shower within the bare grey walls. The hot water helping me to shed the unpleasantness of sector seven. I shivered as a quick rinse of cold water gave me the proverbial slap I needed to wake up. Wrapping a towel around me, I left the shower, moving over to my locker. Waving my wrist with the implant, the door opened like a cheap magic trick.

After a few moments of towel drying my hair, which had already begun to air-dry, I pulled on my clothes, but as I stared into the mirror, I couldn't help running a hand through my short dark pixie cut. It looked almost black, even after drying. My thoughts wandered as I absentmindedly went to work on my make-up. I could feel my mood darkening as I swiped away a touch of gloss from my lower lip.

Thank god this was the last assignment. I'm really going to enjoy shooting that guy later on.

Though it was a pity that I was only tagging him. I rolled my shoulders, knowing that I didn't have much of a choice but to dress up, as the club had a strict dress code. Although being an operative, I could force them to let me in regardless.

But that would cause a scene.

Straightening the slightly revealing V-neck and belt, I gave one last tug to the hem of my playsuit, satisfied. I appreciated that some of the fashions from back before the brink of the end, had still managed to find their way to the present.

Looking down, I felt the beginnings of a smile of malcontent surfacing, as I checked the slim heel of my black and silver spiked ankle boots. They were always good for a swift kick, when called on. Straightening, I did one unenthusiastic turn for the mirror, catching sight of those familiar sharp blue eyes, but even as I twisted away, it still gave rise to the same old question.

Who did I look like?

A question that was never answered. Stretching, I snorted.

Like it really mattered.

With even less enthusiasm, I picked up my small clutch and left. Leaving behind the smooth walls of the platform, and their ever-changing background adverts of nature from long ago. All that was left of the natural world was now seen as a symbol of hope and reverence.

Climbing the last few steps up to the surface, the lights of the sleek towers and streamlined buildings blazed brightly. Night-time in the centre was always electric, both literally and figuratively. It always filled me with a wicked sense of pleasure, almost as if I lived for its energy. The atmosphere made me feel alive, which was odd as I found no particular comfort from being close to others. Though I did have moments like everyone else where I would simply cut loose, where reckless abandon would run through me and I cared for nothing and no-one, only longing for oblivion.

Not a particularly healthy habit though, as Casimir often reminded me.

As I joined the nightly throngs, we headed towards the outer reaches of Unus, but most people referred to it as the centre, myself included. The longer I walked, the more the streets began to change. Silhouettes were draped in doorways, and to the sides couples lingered in the shadows. Heavily-lidded older women, girls, guys and mature men stood eyeing the passers-by, flaunting their skin with throaty whispers of colourful but empty promises.

"Looking for something a little special tonight," one of the girls said as I drew level with her.

I smirked, "I'm searching for someone not a something, but I can tell you that there's nothing special about him, sadly."

The girl raised her hands and laughed as I continued on. Turning the next two corners, Bluebird came into view. There was no line outside, only an iron door. I stopped and knocked twice in quick succession before knocking again three times later, more slowly. The panel in the door slid back and the face of a security guard appeared. He silently looked at me, waiting.

"Miracle," I said, with a slight arch of my brow. The latest password according to one of the acolytes from the sanctuary. The panel slid back into place and the door unlocked, allowing me to enter. The walk into the club was always misleading as I made my way down the long sloping corridor, completely black apart from the thin ice-blue lighting of lit metal artwork.

A muffled bang filled the air as the doors at the end of the hallway abruptly flew open, and a small group of three staggered through. I nearly laughed as one of the two girls stood on her own foot, stumbling straight into the wall, as the second one threw up all over the guy that was with them. The scene and their behaviour was far too familiar to me, yet seeing it still wouldn't make me think twice about doing it again when one of those moods took hold of me, because by that point, I never really gave a shit.

Stepping around the messy scene, I pushed past them and into the club. Clad in the same colours as the hallway which looked far better at night than they did during the day, the thumping bass hit me square in the chest. Laser lights cut through the darkness leaving fragmented shapes in the air behind them. The electronic trance pounded, giving rise to a feeling of euphoria along with an enthralling but moody darkness. The space was enormous. An underground warehouse that pulsed with a frenetic kind of energy, rife with a need for escapism.

A shudder rolled down my spine as I turned away, heading for another concealed door across the other side on the opposite wall. I could feel the eyes of the other security guards watching me as I disappeared into the mass of bodies. I was clearly a little too sure in my steps, therefore raising their suspicions. Too late to change, I wound my way towards the bar instead.

Spotting a familiar face, I moved towards him. "The usual?"

I nodded as I watched him leave to get the two shots that I usually drank when working. My all black outfit was a dead give away. When I was out on a blowout or a bender, I always wore a different colour of one kind or another and never all black. As I was leaning casually against the bar and lazily glancing around, I could feel those who were less drunk eyeing me as they warily kept their distance.

That suits me fine. Maybe they thought that I'd shoot them if I couldn't get a drink. I mean, I wouldn't, but the idea was tempting.

Quiet laughter, low and wickedly amused as though they'd heard my thoughts had me looking up to find that he'd returned.

"You seem to like breaking the rules..." he said softly as he gazed at me more intently, his eyes flashing as they caught the light. His gaze never leaving mine, even as he smoothly set the glasses down before me.

I tilted my head. "Every now and again in a minor way... It's not the end of the world, but even if it was, I would still finish my drink before the all-consuming hell broke loose."

Amused at my reply, he closed the distance between us bringing with him the scent of warm leather and subtle spice. My senses sharpened as a slight wariness prickled along my skin, when normally I wouldn't give a dam. I was numb to the closeness of others.

He whispered just loud enough for me to hear, "but the world never ended in a bang, or a whisper, but rather, one scream at a time." I stared at him unimpressed until a predatory smirk appeared. "At least that's what they'll say when there's nothing left but silence, blood and darkness."

I snorted an unflattering laugh. "I don't mind the silence or the darkness or even the blood, as long as it isn't my own."

I'm sure my expression matched his ironic smile as I downed the two shots of strawberry and cream. Yet in the back of my mind my thoughts had already drifted to the recent killing sprees, and the unknown power that they continued to ruthlessly wield - it seemed that the already reduced population was still dwindling.

He stood watching me as I set the second glass back down, eventually giving him a wry smile. I waited as he turned around, before handing me a small tablet. Staring at him, there was something about his behaviour that felt as though I was speaking to a stranger, yet I'd spoken to him briefly numerous times on many occasions.

Typing in the number 30 on the touchscreen, I waved my wrist implant in-front of it. The currency was based around the old European exchange. As a rule we never had actual money, everything was electronic.

After glancing at the screen, the look he gave me was smouldering. "You've always been my favourite."

"You just wanted my twenty tip and I just wanted a drink. It's a match made in hell," I stated. To which he threw his head back in genuine laughter this time. His light grey eyes and pale skin tone setting off his sharp features. The flashing lights catching his glossy ponytail of aubergine hair, which only called further attention to his mysterious profile.

He tapped the counter. "Don't be a stranger, I can always use the money."

"I'm not surprised, it's just a shame that your zealous shopping addiction hasn't improved your style."

I watched as he narrowed his eyes in repressed amusement before flipping me the bird, still filled with humour.

Feeling more relaxed and less noticeable, I slipped away from the bar and into the throng of dancers. The air was thick with scented perfumes, sweat and the tainted breath of alcohol. I could feel the creeping sense of a longing to let go and join them, but resisted and passed through the masked door unnoticed. I had a job to do and a scrawny pest to tag…