Anya stepped forward to turn in a slow 360. Nothing but green and the bag at her feet. Seeing nothing rarely meant there was nothing to see. She dragged the pack with her and slung it over one shoulder as she backed against the bark of the tree. Then she Listened. The sounds that told her she was not alone were not the sounds of the clinic at all. No heels to tile, no metallic echoes, no polite intercom chatter. Here, there was a dominant crunching of something underfoot. But not sand, not packed dirt. Her bright, blue gaze took in the ground cover. Leaves, perhaps. Roots and bizarre plantlife and rich, moist mud. Several such sounds made her ears tip forward. Some steps were close together and inherently quiet, some tentatively so--as if trying to walk softer than able. Another few sets of purposeful strides, leaf and sole-sucking disturbances spaced further apart than the others. And one set that simply crashed into her eardrums like an old Earth elephant.
Or like they'd decided to awkwardly hug one of the barbed berry plants like the one a few feet from Anya.
She thought she heard her wristband speaking again, but a quick prod of the device that was now a part of her led to a jarring of the nerves in her right arm. Nothing more. Anya frowned. There were a lot of people at the clinic. Had others been made into technological horrors, too? Or was she simply hoping she'd not been trapped in some defunct wargame sim?
Unfamiliar terrain and imagining things didn't make for a good defensive position in any scenario. In the cities that still stood, Anya's solution was to climb high and Listen closer. No one who belonged to those footsteps was gonna catch her flatfooted, and she decided the strategy would suit just fine in the vivid forest that towered overhead. She left her ears cocked as she looked for a good perch.
Thick vines wound around many of the trees, and these made good footholds and a simple climb until the hodgepodge of branches began. Anya climbed, the denim of her jeans abrading her ears and the large limb she chose, a crackle of bark and rough fabric so grating it forced her to pull back her Listening until she'd finished scooting across on her butt to settle in a spot where the foliage didn't completely block her view. To the casual observer, the tips of her ears would then seem to lean forward while her body remained still, alert once more.
There were others. One she spotted in modern clothes that didn't look a thing like they'd been dusted by dead earth--unlike hers. Was that--? She let out a low grunt of disgust. "Tech."
And then a small group moving to intercept, wielding bows and arrows, wearing clothes that blended into the forest...and what appeared to be crowns of gnarled branches. At least, that's what she had to believe they were. Even mutant freaks like Anya didn't have things like that protruding from their skulls. She'd call out to neither party, even in warning. Not until she'd determined exactly who the hostile was in this environment.
"Where the hell am I?"
Anya sympathized with that question, and hearing a repeat of what her band had already stated--no imaginative twist, then--only strengthened her belief that the "physicians" had done something very, very wrong. Typical, and she should have been more prepared. What else could one expect, when technology was involved?
She was so focused on trying to hear what others like her might be saying to themselves that she didn't catch the undertone of the forest itself, the slithering hiss of vines stirred to life by her climb, vines moving against one another in an achingly slow undulation, under the leaves on the ground, around the trunks of the trees.
And then it was too late.
A vine launched at her, wrapping around her waist and hoisting her into the air. Anya bent her knees, reaching for the long hunting knife in her boot and dragging it across the offending green. Not the way to force it to let go; her midsection aching as it tightened its hold. Looking around for the nearest limb to catch hold of, Anya caught a glimpse of another being dangled high in the trees, white and black garments flapping where branches caught at his clothes. And along that line of sight...the quad-fanged jaw of the plant-creature that held her in its grasp.
So. This was nature. A force she'd long thought crushed into meek acceptance under the heel of tech and humankind. Nature...was kind of badass. Anya held her knife up and smiled thinly. "Come and try a bite, tumbleweed."
Or like they'd decided to awkwardly hug one of the barbed berry plants like the one a few feet from Anya.
She thought she heard her wristband speaking again, but a quick prod of the device that was now a part of her led to a jarring of the nerves in her right arm. Nothing more. Anya frowned. There were a lot of people at the clinic. Had others been made into technological horrors, too? Or was she simply hoping she'd not been trapped in some defunct wargame sim?
Unfamiliar terrain and imagining things didn't make for a good defensive position in any scenario. In the cities that still stood, Anya's solution was to climb high and Listen closer. No one who belonged to those footsteps was gonna catch her flatfooted, and she decided the strategy would suit just fine in the vivid forest that towered overhead. She left her ears cocked as she looked for a good perch.
Thick vines wound around many of the trees, and these made good footholds and a simple climb until the hodgepodge of branches began. Anya climbed, the denim of her jeans abrading her ears and the large limb she chose, a crackle of bark and rough fabric so grating it forced her to pull back her Listening until she'd finished scooting across on her butt to settle in a spot where the foliage didn't completely block her view. To the casual observer, the tips of her ears would then seem to lean forward while her body remained still, alert once more.
There were others. One she spotted in modern clothes that didn't look a thing like they'd been dusted by dead earth--unlike hers. Was that--? She let out a low grunt of disgust. "Tech."
And then a small group moving to intercept, wielding bows and arrows, wearing clothes that blended into the forest...and what appeared to be crowns of gnarled branches. At least, that's what she had to believe they were. Even mutant freaks like Anya didn't have things like that protruding from their skulls. She'd call out to neither party, even in warning. Not until she'd determined exactly who the hostile was in this environment.
"Where the hell am I?"
Anya sympathized with that question, and hearing a repeat of what her band had already stated--no imaginative twist, then--only strengthened her belief that the "physicians" had done something very, very wrong. Typical, and she should have been more prepared. What else could one expect, when technology was involved?
She was so focused on trying to hear what others like her might be saying to themselves that she didn't catch the undertone of the forest itself, the slithering hiss of vines stirred to life by her climb, vines moving against one another in an achingly slow undulation, under the leaves on the ground, around the trunks of the trees.
And then it was too late.
A vine launched at her, wrapping around her waist and hoisting her into the air. Anya bent her knees, reaching for the long hunting knife in her boot and dragging it across the offending green. Not the way to force it to let go; her midsection aching as it tightened its hold. Looking around for the nearest limb to catch hold of, Anya caught a glimpse of another being dangled high in the trees, white and black garments flapping where branches caught at his clothes. And along that line of sight...the quad-fanged jaw of the plant-creature that held her in its grasp.
So. This was nature. A force she'd long thought crushed into meek acceptance under the heel of tech and humankind. Nature...was kind of badass. Anya held her knife up and smiled thinly. "Come and try a bite, tumbleweed."
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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