Sunday, April 5, 2009

Am I Memorex? - Part 8

I grab and throw him into the wall. One jumps onto my back. Her hands claw at my face mask. Then the rest begin piling on.

My mask is torn free. Hot air and smoke burn my eyes and lungs. Someone presses a smaller air mask to my face and I take a breath. Something feels wrong. The air is wrong. I glance down and follow the air tube to my belt. I jerk my head away but strong arms hold me still. I feel heavy, tired, and I stop resisting. The arms holding me relax.

I feel fingers gently combing through my hair before it all goes black.

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