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Description
Mark's heart was pounding, legs pumping, hair flying as he ran through the rainy
streets. He ran past a mag gang who'd obviously been drinking, high-powered electro-magnetic bikes and alcohol, not a good mix, but he didn't have time to worry about that, the only reason he was running was because he was being chased. He looked over his shoulder and tried to see his pursuers, they hadn't been there when he had escaped but they definitely were going to catch up soon. The rain though, obscured anything beyond 30 feet and he couldn't see anyone, nevertheless.
He dove into an alleyway, swung up onto the fire escape, and began to climb. He couldn't stop to think about what he was doing, thinking meant less energy could be put into running, and running was what he needed to do right now. He reached the top of the fire escape and began to run across the tops of the buildings, but panic began to creep into his mind as he heard the soft sound of raindrops hitting a metal frame above him.
"Keep running, keep running" he told himself, "wait for just the right moment." The right moment came about 5 seconds later as a shadowy form dove out of the sky, righted itself, and landed with a crackle on the gravelly roof of a building right in front of Mark. It was almost seven feet tall with metallic feet ending in three sharp talons. Its left arm ended in four short fingers that looked like they were meant just for grabbing things, attached to the arm was a small automatic gun. The right arm had three sharp, claw-like fingers and had a serrated blade attached to it. The head was smooth and egg shaped and had a single red line running across the place where eyes would be on a human being.
As it straightened itself from the landing, Mark noticed the large bat-like wing partially folded up on its back. It raised the gun arm and pointed it at Mark and yelled, "Halt!"
He halted, but only for long enough to throw the crude flash grenade in his pocket. He covered his eyes and ran towards the street as the grenade gave off a blinding white light that even the seeker couldn't handle. It stood stunned for a moment and then took off in the direction it had seen Mark running last, spreading its wings as it flew over the street.
The seekers weren't perfect though, if it had looked back as it took off, it would
have seen a boy of about seventeen hanging from a windowsill on the street-facing side of the building. A boy who was presently trying to replace the cloth that had slipped off his right arm revealing a mess of green lines that looked suspiciously like circuits.
If it had looked back, it would have seen Mark Faron, also known as 1598, the sole and unwilling participant in an experiment to create a better human being.