The iFactor Chapter 42

Chapter 42

The song flooded his mind; the singsong rhythm quickly synced to the cadence of his footfalls.

Go to sleep and go insane

Past and future all the same

When the world turns inside out

All you’ll do is scream and shout

The singsong rang through his head, so familiar. He forced the image of the darkened room and the vacant faces singing.

There is nothing you can do.

The Trust is gonna come for you.

He was sure of it. They were coming, the men in the black clothing, from down the hall. There were six of them. The soft sound of their boot falls stirred a memory. Matt remembered being there, he remembered his exact action, and he knew one more thing. He knew he would escape.

The first assailant came around the corner with his gun drawn, held forward. All right then, if he were a psychic freak, he would use it to his advantage. He stood at the corner and waited just long enough to see the gun. Matt’s knee came up into the lead man’s groin, dropping him like a rock. He wished that he could have grabbed the gun, but there was no time.

The next man was going to leap forward over his fallen comrade with a knife in his hand. Matt’s arm shot outward clipping him across the neck. Two down, but still no chance to get a weapon. The next two were coming together, around their fallen comrades. Each one had a gun; Matt moved by memory rather than thought, each step he remembered vividly, he knew exactly what to do, and the men cooperated by following their parts without deviation. Matt grabbed the next man’s gun arm and swung him around with all his force, clipping his partner across the temples with the pistol. He held the man by the gun arm and used him as a shield against the two who remained. One fired, killing his shield, but shock at killing his comrade caused hesitation. Matt threw the body on him, and this time, he was able to keep a gun. The weight of the dead man knocked the thug down, he struck his head hard on a wall and collapsed under the weight of the corpse, pinned him to the floor, Matt slid the gun into his pocket. He hoped that there were some bullets left.

The shooter struggled underneath the body to grab a weapon. Matt jumped at him and kicked him in the face. The remaining assailant managed to stick him in the leg with a sharp object. Matt staggered toward the man, reaching for the gun as the attacker fled downstairs to meet the two other men who were waiting as backup. They moved to the front and rear entrances, covering them with automatic weapons.

Matt staggered into his apartment and locked the door. He appraised the device that protruded from his leg; there was still a little of the dark liquid remaining it. Fantasia. He pulled the syringe out and smashed it against the wall then proceeded to fill a bag with some essentials; most importantly, he needed a notepad and a pen. He couldn’t escape the way he came in, but he remembered that the fire escape would be clear. His assailants guarded all other exits. When security patrol came around, he knew the men would conceal themselves. If he waited for that distraction, then he’d get away unseen.

From behind his balcony curtain, he could see a small team converging on his apartment, Kramer in the lead. He made his way down the ladder and slipped away into the park.

The drug’s effects started to cloud his mind. He had to find a safe place to ride the stupor out. The world around him started shifting as the euphoria swept up slowly. Those bastards had injected him with a strong dose, enough to cause memory loss. When it wore off, he wouldn’t remember a thing. The pen scribbled down all the important information he needed to remember as he walked.

Control it, or it will control you, he thought. The lanes and houses in the quad started to shift and change becoming so much like Dallas. He stumbled around, trying to hold on to the real world. He wanted to escape to his beach, but he rejected the images and sounds. Slowly he pushed Dallas away as it tried to take over his senses. The buildings returned to their former shapes and purposes, although he was having difficulty remembering them.

Matt stumbled as the chant rang in his ears until he found the building he was looking for; the one Jill had shown him only nights before. If he was going into a fantasia trip, then he hoped that he could lose himself in the crowd.

The man at the front desk demanded payment for a room. Matt knew that it would be suicide to use his chip to pay. They would track him to his exact location. He pulled the confiscated gun out of his pocket and placed it on the counter for payment.

“That gun looks untraceable. These are rare, you sure you want to part with it?”

Matt nodded curtly.

Okay then, you got six hours. You should be down by then.” the man handed him a room key. “Down the hall at the end.”

Matt struggled to keep the world together as he struggled down the hall. The room was a bad idea; he opened the first cleaning closet he came to and fell inside closing it behind him. No one will find him in there, he was sure of it. He bunched up in a ball in the corner, pulled a pile of sheets off the shelf to cover himself and surrendered to the chanting.

His world imploded.

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