Energa

My dad was lying on the ground, charred and dead. I looked up and saw a plane with the Weston Labs logo on both wings, it was heading for the mountains in the distance, probably to circle back around and finish its business. I began running towards the city where I knew no one would dare to drop a bomb.

The air around me was dropping rapidly in temperature as I was speeding up, I didn't know it then, but I was pulling thermal energy from the air and converting it to kinetic energy. I reached the city in about 3 seconds. The plane was about a kilometer out, I knew it had to be tracking me, that was probably what Dad was worried about.

I looked over at my left, then my right arm. There was a small, yet visible, node attached to my sleeve, I tried pulling it off with no success, instead I slipped my jacket of and threw it onto the sidewalk and began stomping on the device.

By this time the plane was directly overhead. I was sure they wouldn't drop a bomb, but the didn't have to. As my foot was heading down for my fifth stomp on the tracking device it exploded. I was sent flying back a few feet. The explosion's shockwave destroyed some glass in the windows of nearby shops. I landed on one of the glass shards that was standing almost straight up. It punctured my back and sliced my spinal cord. I could no longer feel my legs. This meant no running away any more.

A claw extended down from the plane, which happened to be one of those high tech plane-helicopter hybrids. The metallic fingers wrapped around my limp body, lifting me into the air.

I awoke in a hospital room, and actual hospital room. This was an apocalypse hospital room, though. The lights were flickering, the floor was dirty, the wallpaper was peeling, and the vitals monitor was off. There was a wheel chair setting next to the hospital bed. I felt my legs, but they wouldn't move. I could tell this was the phantom limb syndrome experienced by amputees. I used my arms to roll off the bed and into the wheel chair. But the chair seemed useless.

It was an electric wheel chair with a dead battery. I knew I could make power, but I knew little of how that worked. I thought it was as simple as to find where you want to draw energy from and where to put it to, but you had to know how much you wanted, where you wanted it, and in what form. It took me about two minutes to figure this out, then the chair began to power up.

I wheeled out of my room. The hallway looked a lot like the room, dark and dirty. I rolled over to the reception desk. There was an android running it. The android had Weston Robotics printed on its chest, the O in Weston being the Weston Labs' logo.

"Patient," it said monotone-ly, "please state your name."

"William Harris," I told it.

"William Harris… checking database… genetically modified human, immobilized in [year redacted], age: 23 years. Please stand by… you have been assigned to research and development, please proceed to Weston Laboratories, thank you for your cooperation." I didn't know what this android could do, but I could tell it was boss around here, so I left.

As soon as I exited the hospital a person dressed in all black dropped down behind me, grabbed me up, then launched himself three stories up onto the roof of the building. I was barely keeping myself sitting up with my arms propping me up. The man who had picked me up had prosthetic limbs, like the ones you see on runners, but these ones had pistons attaching the lower part of the leg to the upper part and a spring between the foot and the knee part.

When the man saw me starring he said, "Bionic Legs, customized for agility, the spring adds tension so I run faster and the piston compresses the spring to jump higher. The name's Sergeant Green, leader of the resistance."

"And you want me to join. I would love to, but, incase you didn't notice, I'm immobile," I told Green.

"Roll over."

"What!?"

"Just do it."

I laid down on my back by slowly moving my arms forward. I gave a shove to the roof with my right arm, pushing that side of my body upright. I then moved my left arm back, which pushed the left, bottom side of my body behind the right, top part. This got me laying down. A small beeping came from behind me as I saw Green's shadow fall across my face. The beeping got faster until it was a solid tone. I felt claw-like pieces of metal stab into my lower back and a circular press of cold steel on my spine. The feeling in my legs was back.

I sat up. I stood up. I walked. My legs felt weak, probably from years without use.

"That's a spinal connector, it's used to help paralysis victims like yourself," Green said, but I wasn't hardly listening. I know I was only asleep for about 7 years but I felt like I hadn't walked in an eternity.

"Thank you," I said in a hushed tone to Green.

"You accept joining the resistance, then?" he asked.

"I do," I replied.

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