Break-In

The Machine has driven Rune to desperation.

 1 ~ BREAK-IN

 

        The open, black entrance to the apartment was tempting Rune like Satan himself.  She studied it intently, routinely throwing a wary glance back around herself.  One quick trip up the cold metal staircase and all she would have to do is step inside.

        Rune knew, though, that hell could be lurking there.

        She tapped her foot anxiously.  Droplets of water squirted out from beneath it.  Her shoes were brown with mud and age, and one had a large hole in the front, exposing her toes.  Rune tossed the filthy hood of her gray sweatshirt over her mane of red hair and manufactured three steps forward.

        She jumped onto the staircase.  Something black moved and she tightened.  Taking a reasoned look at it, it was only an empty garbage bag.  Rune exhaled and the cold made fog in front of her nostrils.  With a quick analytical glance inside open door and the black, empty interior, her body flinched with electricity. 

        “Probably,” she panted through chattering teeth, “probably a trap.”

        The garbage bag scraped the ground and the woman jolted around, terrified. Without bothering to figure out what had made the sound, she hopped up the rest of the stairs and flew inside the open threshold.

        Rune spread her hands and braced herself for a few moments.  Her sweatshirt hood fell back off her head and she did not motion to reset it.  Only her eyes moved, scoping the apartment.  She looked like a dumfounded antelope.

        The apartment was strikingly empty.  In the section that Rune stood in, there was only a door in one wall, cracked open slightly, and a small table set against the opposite wall.  

        Rune sighed.  She advanced slowly toward the next door, replacing her sweatshirt hood.  Her hand grasped the handle.

        The door whooshed open and Rune was knocked to the ground as quickly as she could take a breath in.  Her lungs collapsed as the wind was knocked out of them.  She flailed about wildly, choking.  The figure had pinned her to the ground.  He was shouting.

        “Who are you?” He barked.  His voice was thick and rough.  The only reply Rune could make was a rattling cough.  

        He shook her.  “Who are you?  Why are you here?”

        “Rune,” Rune coughed.  Visible in a ray of blue light cast by the open door, her expression was wild with bewilderment.  She kicked him solidly in the ribs and he stiffened.  

        “What room?” The man demanded, shifting his limbs so that he could pin her more efficiently.

        “Rune!” She shouted, panting.

        “Who are you?”

        “Rune!” she coughed, “criminy, moron!”

        “A rune?  What?”

        “Name!” she cackled, “Rune McDella!”

        “Well,” he growled edgily, “Rune McDella, wherever you are from, whoever you are, whatever you wanted here, you know me now.  Which isn’t good for either of us.” 

        Rune’s face paled.  She stopped kicking.

        “What?”

        “They could find me,” he said in a low voice, “or worse, you could be one of them.”

        Rune, regaining her ability to breathe, started to squirm again.

        “Let me go now,” Rune growled, “you’re crazy.”  His whole body shifted above her, a sign of his mounting anxiety.  As he moved, his cheek caught the ray of blue light cast by the open door, creating the illusion of a floating blue stone.

        “You can’t leave,” said the stone with coarse finality, “never.”

        Rune spat in his face.  He reeled back, surprised, and she wriggled free of him, leaping for the open door.  He shouted something vulgar.  With only half the agility of Rune, she was heading down the metal staircase by the time he had lumbered out the threshold.  If she could only make it around the corner, Rune knew he would be too paranoid to follow her.  Too many people.

        Desperate and hysterical, the man hurled himself at Rune, jumping the last nine steps.  She felt him grab her and they toppled to the ground together.  Rune almost squirmed free of him.  They both stood, the man with an iron grip around Rune’s arm. In the new light she could see that he was tall and had dark hair and eyes.  His face was pallid and his lips were thick.

        “Tell me what you were doing in my apartment,” he commanded stiffly.  Rune only stared, like a bewildered animal.  Her breathing was erratic.  “Tell me!” he whispered urgently. 

        Rune was suddenly aggressive.  She motioned sharply away from him, but he stifled her.

        “I thought it was empty,” she growled, “the door was open and the light was off!”

        “So you just strolled right in?”

        “Yes!” Rune hissed, “I didn’t know there would be a crazy man in--”

        The man grabbed her other arm before she could react.  He pulled her into him.  She cried out.

        “If you don’t think I’m as scared of you as you are of me you’re crazy too.  There are people looking for me out there--” Rune grunted, pushing away from him, “and you could be one of them.”

        “One of what? Who?” She shouted wildly.  He cringed at the volume of her voice.

        “I can’t tell you anything out here. Somebody could hear me.”

        Rune unleashed a horrible scream.  The man became wild with panic, grabbing Rune’s mouth to squelch her.  In the instant he let go of her arm to do so, Rune took off, turning the corner and never looking back.  The man didn’t follow her.

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