Vox Mentis

Kill him.

Tuck knees up to your chest to display closed body language, also so you kick him in either the kneecap, groin, or stomach region (depending on height) with the strongest muscles in your body.

Then yeah maybe kill him

The screaming deep inside you gets stronger, taking control of your legs, which you draw up to your chest. You shake as you fight against the cage your body seems to have become, pounding against invisible walls, and then suddenly you're free, and your leg shoots out and you kick Lee in the balls as hard as you fucking can.

Backup plan: Cut out his tongue and steal his wallet. GTFO

He howls. You try and kick him again as he's doubling over, and you catch his face with your heel. You grab for his wallet pocket, but apparently he didn't bring it in here with him. You pound him in the face with your boot again as he lies on the ground, ready to kill this fucker, stomp his face into oblivion, but the door opens and a terrified McDonald's grunt worker pokes his head in. You run past him, banging the door open. "Pervert!" you yell to the turning faces. "There's a pervert in there!" You scoop up your bag. Not one person moves. "Pervert!" you shout, and run.

~

In the alley, boys in baseball caps are dealing drugs or freestyling lyrics or whatever they do and one steps towards you, his hands out. You blast past him. Your bag bounces. It's three blocks before you feel safe enough to stop and check whether Lee is following. No. You drop your bag for a second and put your hands on your knees to suck air. People flow around you. What just happened? You remember the details but none of it makes sense. You don't know what you were thinking.

You look up. Lee is shambling towards you, one hand clutched over his groin, the other over his bleeding face. You jerk upright. On the other side of the street, a girl with long brown hair and a cheap suit steps onto the road, backs away from a car, then runs at you through traffic. The way she's angling, she's not going to cut you off so much as corral you, force you eastward, and this sets off all kinds of alarm bells, because when someone does that, they have friends. You crane your neck and spot two clipboard-carrying boys in suits heading straight at you. "Help!" you say, but to no one in particular, and of course there is no help. You spy an alley and run for it. The bag slips and you panic and let it drop, which is unthinkably terrible because without your bag you have nothing; you'll have to rely on people. You pass an office building, a beautiful business couple emerging from its glass revolving doors like an advertisement, and you think about running in there, to whatever clean, safe, corporate-warmed world they've come from. But that will never work; that'll end in you being tossed out the same door by a security guard in charge of protecting that world from people like you. You keep running. The alley turns and dips and becomes a driveway. Not good, not good. It terminates at a locked roller door painted KEEP CLEAR LOADING AREA. You start back the way you came, but they're already here. One of the boys holds your Pikachu bag. You back up until you hit the roller door. All those office windows: Surely someone will be looking down. Maybe if you scream. Maybe if there are angels.

"Take a moment," says the girl. "Get your breath back." Beside her, Lee bends and spits blood.

"Stay away from me."

"Sorry about the chase. We just really, really didn't want you to get away."

"I will fuck you up," you say.

"It's okay." The girl smiles quizzically. "It's okay, Elise; you passed."

~

The van's tires slip on the freeway merge and the interior fills with the light from an approaching eighteen-wheeler. "Fuck!" says the tall man. A horn bellows. You feel a looseness, a surrender of the vehicle to natural forces, then the wheels bite and straighten the vehicle up between the lanes. The truck's horn blows endlessly.

You wonder how much damage you'd do to yourself if you kick open the door and fling yourself out at this speed. Probably a lot. Your hands are bound.

"Fuck," says the man. He's silent a moment. "Fuck."

You say nothing.

"What's your name?"

"Nick Parsons."

"Not now! Before!"

"I don't know what you mean."

"When you lived in Broken Hill, Australia. What was your name?"

"I've never lived in-"

"I can hear your accent!"

"I grew up in Australia. In Melbourne. But I've never been to Broken Hill."

The man hauls the wheel. The van slides across three lanes and skids to a stop in the emergency lane. He pulls on the hand brake, takes the shotgun, and tries to drag you out of the van. You resist and the man hits you twice with the shotgun butt and you tumble out into the snow. When you get to your feet, you're looking into a gun barrel.

"You're thinking if you're not who I want, I'll let you go," says the man. "When in fact, if you're not the Exception, I'm going to shoot you and leave your body in the snow."

You're going to have to attempt to talk your way out of this.