Chapter One - Unstable

She ran through the darkness. Screams and shouts came from behind her, light flashing after her- torches. She was Emily Quigley. And she was a thief. In her hand was a disk she had stolen from the archives of Horizon Inc. It was a high priority company held strongly in the public eye. Except for their experiments. Emily considered herself their hero. She now had proof to run them to the ground - the names and locations of what could be hundreds of people. People called them mutants. They were molecularly unstable - that’s what Emily had been told. Or perhaps that was about her. Everything in Emily’s life was unstable. This was all she was good at.

The corridor in which she found herself reached a sudden end. There were two doors - one on each side. On the right, a simple and uninspiring office. On the left - the stairwell. She jutted to the left quickly, bursting through the doors. “Take the elevator!” a man yelled. Footsteps sounded away from Emily. She wasn’t concentrating on them anymore. She had to run. The doors burst open above her. She continued pacing down the stairs.

A gun shot echoed through the stairwell. Emily stopped on the spot, afraid to move. Her bronze hair covered her face, hiding her in the shadows. Only the torches could see her now. The footsteps continued down towards her. The doors at the end of the stairs opened quickly. A security guard rushed through, gun in hand. He aimed for her chest. “Hand over the disk!” he yelled. The other guards came to her back. Emily was trapped. “Hand it over!”

Emily let out a sigh. The guards flinched, expecting her to make a move. She flicked her hair away from her face, smiling at the man before her. “I can’t do that.” Before he could argue, she had passed through the floor. Molecularly unstable. A ghost. Free. The guards cursed loudly as they heard a car screech away outside. They had failed. Horizon now faced the threat of an angry mutant.

***

“You get it?” Brock - Emily’s driver. “Did you get the disk Emily?” She nodded slowly, wiping her eyes softly with her fingers. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t turn to look at her; his eyes were trained on the road. They were alone, save for the streetlights rushing past them. “Talk to me!” he snapped.

“They saw my face, Brock. They know who I am. And what I can do. They’ll come looking for me. I’ll be on this list soon.” She flashed the disk in her hand. “What can we do against this thing?” He remained silent. They were getting close to their headquarters. “Look Brock, I know you believe that by getting this disk we can save those people, but we don’t know that. No one has ever gotten in or out of the cells.”

“No one’s ever stolen from Horizon either,” Brock noted. Emily smiled lightly. “It’s not hopeless, okay. There are people in those places that can do things like you and me. If we get them out we might be able to stop this whole thing. Who knows what they can do!”

“No one, Brock. That’s the scary thing.”

***

0179. 0179. 0179. I am 0179. I am 0179.

He looked around the room again, eyes darting from side to side. His breathing was quick, he was shaking. The walls were made of steel. Supposedly he could do something. But he hadn’t shown anyone any evidence. The only thing that placed him in that room was a test result. He was… unstable. He was specimen 0179. He couldn’t remember his name. He couldn’t remember his life outside these fours walls, except that there had been one. He put his amnesia down to the drugs they gave him. The needle they stuck in him every three days.

I am 0179.

There was no door in the room, just one large observation window. It was supposed to be a mirror, but he had gotten close to it once and he’d seen straight through. They didn’t think he had seen them, but he had. He knew where he was. Or at least he had. Then they had drugged him. He was 0179. And he was stuck here. They had called him molecularly unstable. His old self might have interpreted that as being different. He knew it was just another way of saying he was guilty of being a mutant. A freak. An accident of nature. But that was why he was there. So that people could do what he could.

What can I do? I am 0179.

He peered through the mirror. A man in a white coat was looking at him and writing something down. A name was written on his coat. Horizon. The man in the cell thought that that was an odd name. A crackling came through the room.

“Good evening, number 0179.” He threw his head from side to side. “It’s just an intercom, don’t you worry.” He looked at the man on the other side of the glass. He was speaking into a box on the wall. “Why don’t you show us what you can do? You’ve passed the tests. You are like the others. Now show us how.” The man was trying to be kind.

I am 0179. I cannot do anything.

“Come now, young man. I know you're capable of something.” 0179 shook his head. “I see.” The man looked at his watch. “Yes, it’s about time now. Get this door open. It’s time to administer the medication.” 0179 ran away from the glass. He knew what this meant. The drugs to make him forget. He didn’t like them. He clawed at the walls with his fingers, trying to get out. “Hold him still.” The man was in the room, a needle in hand. Two large men in white grabbed 0179’s arms. They forced him down. One pulled his sleeve up for the needle.

No, not again! Please!

0179 closed his eyes tight. He didn’t want the needle. He wanted to get out of this place. The doctor was getting close. The needle was nearly pressed against 0179’s arm. And then it made contact. It was cold, like he remembered. His eyes closed even tighter, and then he was gone. The needle penetrated air and the two large men fell into each other. 0179 was gone.

***

Emily paced back and forth. They had received a report that a man had appeared out of nowhere in a diner nearby. He was wearing a hospital gown, shaking and muttering to himself. His nose was bleeding and his eyes were bloodshot. He seemed like a mad man. But Emily knew that while he was mad, he was mad for a reason.

He must have come from the cells.

Brock had gone out to examine the situation. Emily hoped he would be okay. If the man had just appeared in the diner, he might be dangerous. There was no telling who he might be, what he might be able to do to Brock.

“Emily!” It came from over the radio. “Emily, I’m at the diner. You’d better check this out. You won’t believe it.” The signal ended suddenly.

What now?

***

Brock stepped from his car slowly. The man was in the diner, but he kept appearing in different corners of it. And every time he stopped somewhere he held his head as if in pain. The customers in the diner began to get worried. Many started to get up and Brock didn’t blame them. The man had no control. And from the looks of things, he was screaming in agony.

What is this?

He stepped into the diner cautiously, pushing past frightened people trying to get out. The man was at the counter now, blood on the surface, dripping from his nose. “Hello?” Brock called. The man turned around. His eyes were shaking with fright. “You came from the cells?” The crowd were looking at Brock is fear. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.”

The man shook his head. “Can’t…” His voice was weak, like he hadn’t used it in a long time, save for his shouting. “Can’t help.” He appeared suddenly behind Brock. Then he was in front of him again. He collapsed onto the chair again. It was then Brock noticed a number on his chest.

“0179?” The man looked up. “That’s your number, isn’t it?” He nodded uncertainly. “What’s your real name?” Brock made a move towards 0179. “Well?”

“He doesn’t have one.” Brock spun around on the spot. A man in a black suit stood blocking the door. He was tall and wide, wearing a short bowler hat that cast a shadow over his face. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes. His shoes were gleaming in the dull lighting, as were his leather gloves. “Get out of the way.” The man’s voice was deep, almost inhuman.

“Who are you?” Brock exclaimed. He clenched his fists, raising his guard. The man smiled menacingly. That was the one part of his face that Brock could see - the jagged smile. “I won’t ask twice!” The man stepped forward, hand reaching into a pocket. Brock moved quickly, raising a hand. With a click of his fingers a small flame puffed into existence. “Don’t move!”

“Another mutant?” The smile turned into a savage grin. “You’ll have to come with me too, then.” The lights started flickering overhead. Glasses were shaking violently until one finally crashed to the floor. Brock felt his footing loosen beneath him, as if the ground was shaking. He threw the flame from his fingers at the man; he moved swiftly to one side, the glass smashing behind him. “That’s naughty.” He stamped a foot, causing a massive rumble in ground. Brock stumbled backwards into 0179.

“Won’t go…” He vanished from behind Brock and found himself outside. He was running quickly, until he crashed into a red convertible that pulled up in front of him. A young woman smiled from behind large sunglasses at him. “Help?”

“Name’s Emily,” she stated. “We have to save Brock.” 0179 shook his head. “Get in the car.” They sped towards the diner, the man in black stepping out in front of them. The car shook from side to side, the tyres unable to keep a hold on the road. A small flame struck the man in the back. He stumbled ever so slightly, making room for Brock to dash past. He leapt into the car beside Emily. “Take the wheel!” she shouted to him. Her foot was pressed down on the accelerator, but her hands were held tightly to the door and dashboard.

The man in black ran after them, the ground shaking worse than ever before. Above them windows were shattering. A rain of glass came down at them. 0179 screamed in fear, but Brock kept his eyes on the road, trying to steer the car from the passenger seat. The glass fell straight through them. Before 0179 could comprehend what had happened, they passed through a parked car. Emily struggled to keep her focus. Her nose was bleeding from the effort of holding the car in an intangible form. But then they were gone, and the man in black was left at the diner.

***

Ian Somers headed for the city centre. He had a bit of extra baggage, which he someday hoped to lose. But he was happy with his appearance otherwise. He wasn’t especially handsome or tall, but he felt he had a certain charm. Whether he had confidence to use it, that was a different story. He was a train conductor, off duty at the moment. But as he rarely had time for friends he was alone as he headed for lunch. He didn’t mind so much, unless it was raining. The weather always got him down.

He had just crossed the road when he noticed a man behind him. The man was in a black suit. He wore sunglasses and a bowler hat so that most of his face was hidden. He was a slight man of average height. Yet he was far from average. Ian could tell by looking at him that he was odd. No one wore bowler hats anymore.

He turned a corner to test his theory - the man was following him. And sure enough, the man came around the corner after him. Ian started walking faster. The man had no trouble keeping up. Even as they passed through crowds of people Ian could see the hat following him. He began running, pushing through people muttering “Sorry” to them. The man stopped but Ian kept on running. And then with a swoosh of wind, the man was in front of Ian.

“I cannot let you leave,” the man told him. His voice was unusually sweet for someone so threatening. “At least, not without me. Your presence is… required.” Ian ignored him and started running the other way.

He knows my secret!

The man sped after him.

Super speed!

Ian turned around once more, this time focusing on when the man would start following him again. He had one chance to escape… The man made a move to follow him. As he neared Ian, he was lifted into the air. His momentum carried him high and far. Ian lost sight of him and ran for his life. He got lost in the crowd, leaving the man in the bowler hat to his secrets.

***

Someone got out… A man got out…

Naomi rocked back and forth in her cell. Though she had no contact with anyone outside her cells she knew that everyone had heard the same thing as her. Someone had got out of their cell. A man. 0179. He was right across the corridor. Naomi knew it to be true. There had been shouts. Everyone had been given the drug, yet Naomi hadn’t forgotten.

Someone got out…

A hiss sounded on the wall. Naomi had never heard it before. A stench followed. It was foul, like burning rubber. Naomi remembered rubber. She even remembered her own name. No one could take that from her. She remember everything about her life before the cells. No amount of drugs could change that.

Someone got out…

The hiss got louder. Naomi began choking. “What’s happening in there!” It came over the intercom. “What are you doing!” A fire had started in the room. It was burning away the wall. There was a slight gap in it. It led to the outside world. Naomi had been at the perimmeter of the building! She could see freedom growing before her.

“Come on!” It was a girl. She had a bloody nose and scarlet hair. The back wall was still burning away. Somehow Naomi knew that the girl had done it. It wasn’t a fire. It was something else. “Hurry, before they get you!” She sped into the open, leaving Naomi in her cell.

“Stay where you are!” The mirror was up. A man was staring fiercely at her, needle in hand. “We’re going to give you this now.” Naomi panicked. This was her one chance at freedom. She leapt at the man, slapping the needle to the floor. She grabbed him by the head. His eyes rolled over. “What…”

“Let’s see how you like forgetting!” Her nose started bleeding as the man shook violently before her. His mind was going blank. His memories rushed into her. He had access codes. She could free everyone here. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to run. Horizon would pay for trying to make her forget. Now this man would be her example. He fell to floor as she ran through the hole in the wall. His mind was blank; Naomi was free.