Chapter 20 – The Room [Part 2]

“You’re fit for active duty” the doctor tells her, signing the release papers.

“Have I received any new orders?” she asks him getting dressed

“No,” the doc waits for to get dressed “not that I know of.” He hands the papers to her.

“So I’m on standby?” Taking the papers from his hands, “No mention of the Zulu?”

“I don’t know” the doc replies hurriedly leaving to go to his next patient.

“Tsk” she says under her breath scrunching the papers “So much for a doctor’s full care” she throws the paper in the bin as she exits.

Leaving her room she immediately pushes herself against the nearest wall. Hospital beds with patients were being rushed past her. The hospital was as busy as always.

Pushing her way through the organised but packed movement of people Delia does her best to stay out of the way. The hospital elevator was a no go for her and thus she takes the stairs down.

Her stomach had already healed, it no longer hurt and eating a burger was the one thing on her mind. The hospital food she had been made to eat for the past two days had been horrendous. It tasted of nothing, but provided you with everything the body needed.

The perfect food for a soldier was how it had been advertised. But no sane soldier would willing eat it unless they really had to.

Soon exiting the Hospital Delia looks up at the underground ceiling, “I need to get out” she says as she looks upon greyish coloured metal.

Walking further along, she finds Clarice sitting on a bench, facing away from her and holding an unlabelled brown bag. She always sat there on the day of her release.

Taking a seat next to her “Hello Clare.” she says grabbing the bag from her hands

“Ah,” Clare receives a small shock, “Del,” With her hand on her heart “Make some more noise the next time you approach.”

“I did,” taking a bite from the burger, “You just weren’t paying attention,” chewing on her food and swallowing, “What were you thinking so hard about?”

“The Zulu,” she pauses for a short time, “I can’t believe I agree with Oswine.”

“So the Zulu is not dead.” Sighing because she now needed to follow him again “Where is he?”

“No Del” shaking her head “The Zulu has not been seen since the explosion. The President and older Council members refuse to believe that he is dead.”

“As much as I want it to be so,” taking another bite “I don’t think he’s dead either.”

“And why is that?” Clarice questions her.

Swallowing, “I’ve been thinking about what happened for the past couple of days.” Taking a drink, “The Zulu staged the explosion.”

“Staged the explosion? What do you mean?”

Chewing on her food “The Zulu staged the explosion. He opened the door and set off a grenade of sorts in order to make sure I couldn’t follow him inside.” Finishing the burger “There’s something he is hiding in that room.”

“Del” Clarice lets out a breath “The door did not open.”

“I know what I saw Clare” standing back up “He opened it and set an explosion to stop me from entering.”

“Del, It did not open. We have footage of it remaining shut,” shaking her head, “You’re just trying not to admit that the Zulu saved your life.”

“He did not save me life” Delia states back firmly “He set that explosion!”

“You hate him too much Del,” standing up with her “You owe the Zulu your life.”

Taking in a breath, and letting it back out. “It doesn’t even matter anyway” Delia states, not angry nor happily, “The Zulu is dead.”

“Let’s go back to the Council.” Clarice says taking a step to leave

“No Clare.” Delia responds stopping “I’m not going there.”

Sighing “Then you are to report back to the general for active duty.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Delia stands straight and moves to salute

Hugging her “Come back well okay?” Clarice stops it

Hugging her back “I always do” she smiles before breaking apart and leaving. Their parting from the hospital had become something like a tradition. She always tried to pull her back, and she always refused.

Stretching her arms as she walks she feels a bit lighter. The past three and a half weeks had been tougher than she had wanted them to be, but with the Zulu’s disappearance she could go back to how she lived her life before. She was free of him, she was happy, but felt a tinge of regret. The Zulu died saving her.

“I should’ve been nicer” she mumbles before shaking her head and jumping upon on of the floating vehicles to head towards the General. “Hope I can head to the eastern base” she says to get her mind away from her regretful thoughts “It’ll be fun to mess with the new guys.”

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Zulu

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Screaming out loud, but not being heard by anyone or anything Zulu slams his one functional hand against the transparent glass, leaving a bloody path of it as he slides it across. The chamber he was in had multiple restraints that were binding him down, but the restraints only held his chest, waist and ankles, he broke free of the one holding his hand.

Constantly convulsing, his eyes continuously change colour, going from red to hazel and back to red. His heart was no longer beating in any steady pattern, sometimes beating so fast that one would not think it was not a heart, and other times mimicking that of a corpse. He wanted to be asleep for this, but he could not be. The pain he felt could not be dulled by morphine, nor could he fall asleep by gas or compound.

As a Zulu he could not be poisoned, he could not be infected. His body rejects all things that are not produced by the body. This is a good thing, as it meant he could not be killed unless physically hurt or blown apart. However it worked both ways, his body rejects all things that are not produced by it, it is not selective.

With the chamber restraining his arm again, his legs break free, allowing him to kick the glass without meaning to. With each passing minute the chamber was turning darker and darker. The reconstruction of bone, muscle, veins and ligaments required him to stay still, he knows this, but he could not do so.

In such circumstances he knows that he should think of something, think of anything, get his mind away, but no matter how much he tried, he could not. He knows how to ignore pain, he has learnt the skill but he has yet to master it. This made the process even longer and more excruciating than it needed to be.

In the heat of battle it was easy for him to ignore where he hurt, in the heat of battle it came naturally to him, however being in the heat of battle and being under the scalpel were two very different cases. In battle he could move, in battle he had things he needed to do. Under the scalper he had to stay still, he had to not move, he had no actual goal except for the goal of not moving.

He knows that it is possible, he had seen it done by the others, but the others were more experienced. They had more need of it than he did.

Breaking free of all his restraints he hits the glass harder, faster and more chaotically. Each hit being stronger and more precise than the last. Cracks soon start appearing, but they disappear just as fast. The chamber was being repaired as quickly as it was being damaged. The human shaped machines that had been roaming around the floor of the room were all now merged with the chamber.

Passing out at times he awakes only a split second later to pain. Feeling exhausted he wants to not feel, but the torture he was under did not let him. Under such agony he could not measure time. Under such agony he only knew pain. Pain that made him scream, pain that made him shout, pain that made sure he never stopped struggling.

Eventually though it stops, the chamber stops working and he lies there healed. Exhausted in more ways than one, he does not get up, but instead falls unconscious.

[96 hours]

Pushing the now dyed red glass he opens the chamber and sits up to let his legs hang over the edge. Looking down at both his hands he clenches them and unclenches them. Twisting his body he stretches his back, flexing his arms he makes sure they move properly. Concentrating on his senses he finds that everything is back to normal. He ached here and there but it was more muscle pain from a workout than pain from an injury.

“Aargh!” he lets out a loud scream into the large open room, knowing that the room is sound proof, before hunching over to let out a long and heavy breath.

“I would have preferred death.” He mumbles to himself as he runs his right hand across his headgear, insuring that it is whole.

“Death would have been easier.” he shouts getting out of the chamber to stretch once again.

“Death would have been better.” he whispers, not actually meaning it, as he inspects the room with a clear head.

Ignoring the chamber in front of him he first looks past it to find drawers and cupboards. They were not located in a tidy fashion, but instead looked to have been placed there on a whim. Around them lay scattered tools, half built rifles and broken machines. Wrenches and rolled up blue prints leaned off them.

Moving towards these drawers and cupboards he clears the mess just enough to open the first cupboard. Finding clothes hanged up once he opens them, he puts them on as he has been stark naked the whole time.

Putting on the first he finds that it wasn’t made for him and thus searches through the many, many sizes until he finds the right one. Only when he ensures that each crease is perfect and no wrinkles are present where they should not be does he turn his attention back to the chamber he got out from; collecting his pistol and knife he holsters them onto his new belt.

Now turning his attention to the other chamber he walks up to it and places his right hand upon it.

Name: ERROR

Birthdate: ERROR

Unit: ****

“Zag,” he says with a smile, waiting for the chamber to register his hand print “You’re going to be in so much pain when you wake up.”

[box border=1 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=3 width=80% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Authority Level 10[/pc][/col][/box]

[box border=1 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=3 width=80% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]Access Authorized[/pc][/col][/box]

A holographic image of her laying down emits from the glass in an x-ray like view. Showing in real time the beating of her heart, the air flowing in and out from her lungs and her blood circulating around her veins.

“No.” he says quietly as he sees the projected image of her.

“This can’t be happening.” He changes the projected angle to receive a clear image of her head. More specifically a clear image of her brain.

Typing upon the glass.

[box border=1 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=3 width=80% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]No Brain Activity Detected[/pc][/col][/box]

Slamming the glass he types upon it again.

[box border=1 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=3 width=80% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][col colspan=4 valign=middle width=100% bordercolor=#202020 bgcolor=#f5f5f5][pc]No Brain Activity Detected[/pc][/col][/box]

He receives the same message and slams the glass again, harder. Making it crack and repair itself all at once.

“Damn it Zag.” He slumps to the ground, hiding his face in his own shadow.

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A/N

Err. I did say i have a plan. I'm not going to change it because you guys want another Zulu to be alive.

It'll screw up my plans and Two Zulu's will be like game breaking !!!

So why is the body there? As i said, i have a plan.

@J0nn0

I haven't explained in direct words what he can and can not do yet. I will in a few chapters (It's planned out!)

To anyone who actually drops this because not that much happened....well Sorry.

And as always. Hope you all enjoyed the Chapter. Thanks for reading.