Chapter 7

Mike felt as if he were floating on a sea of clouds, the exhaustion he felt before was slowly slipping away. It was moments like these that Mike felt at peace with himself and memories of the past just remained in the past. His peace was short lived, as the dreams started again. Mike was five years old again and he was awoken by the sounds of screaming coming from down stairs in the kitchen. He crept out of bed and soundlessly walked down the stairs. It sounded like his dad was drunk again, mostly complaining loudly about his rotten life, his rotten job, his ugly wife, and his no good bed-wetting son. Mike was always frightened when his dad got like this, sooner or later Robert Anderson would start taking out his frustration out on his wife. Some days' mom would have bruises on her face, arms or legs, and would jump at the slightest noise. One day when Mike came home from kindergarten, his dad was just starting in on his mom. After the first blow to her face, Mike ran to protect his mom from the violent drunk. That only pissed his dad off even more and he finally 'noticed' his son. From that day forward Mike received his fair share of the beatings. Robert was 5'10 and out weighed Mike by at least a hundred and sixty pounds, Mike was only 3'6 at the time. It wasn't even a challenge for Bob. The dreams start to collide into each other and reforms in another time. Mike had just turned thirteen, and when he had gotten home from school expecting to a least get a cake to commemorate his birthday, he was sadly mistaken. Bob sneered at Mike, when he had mentioned his birthday, and had a good laugh at his expense. Bob told little 'Mickey', that he had spent the money meant for cake and presents on beer and parts for his old Dodge Charger. Well Mike was upset at this and called his dad a 'good for nothing lazy fuck up, who took out his frustration out on his family for his own personal failures.' Well, after that Mike was severely beaten worse than before. Only on his thirteenth birthday instead, of the presents and cake, Mike was in the Emergency Room with: two fractured bones in his right arm, a broken rib from being kicked in the ribs repeatedly, a busted lip, and a laceration to his right eyebrow. Bob had his wife put on makeup to cover the bruises she had and had her make up a convincing story about how some older neighborhood kids ganged up on their son. The hospital officials were suspicious, but couldn't prove anything to the contrary. Mike later had two pins and a metal plate placed inside of his arm to reinforce the bones. The laceration on his eyebrow left a permanent scar, running down vertically from his forehead through is eyebrow and along the outer edge of his eye. From that day on Mike hoped and prayed that his dad would suddenly die and both his mom and Mike would be free. The dream collapsed again, swirling like a kaleidoscope of color, until it focused on the worst memory of Mike' life. He had turned seventeen three months before and was on his way into his house when the phone rang. He ran to pick up, and on the other end a police officer asked if this was Mike Anderson. Mike confirmed this, and the officer reported that there had been a car accident involving his parents. Mike thought at the moment that his dad had gotten drunk again and drove off with his mom to somewhere and he died as a result. The officer shot down the theory even before he voiced it. His parents were hit by a drunk driver killing them instantly. Mike had no one in the world now except his friend Emily. He wasn't going into child services, so he got himself emancipated, finished up school, and applied to college under a scholarship. Apparently, the house was bought and paid off years ago, and his parents had large enough insurance polices to cover the essentials for the time being and put the rest of the insurance money in the bank to earn interest. He had the house, money, and peace at last, but he was alone in more ways than one. This time the dream fizzled from his conscientiousness as sweet darkness enveloped him.

He woke with a start, gasping for breath, and disoriented with his surroundings. For several moments he couldn't remember where he was. Then the scenes of carnage came back in a rush. He looked up and noticed that all of slaves were milling about talking to each other. The bodies of the fallen slavers still lay where they fell. Pools of blue blood covered most of the deck. Talking among the slaves stopped as they noticed that Mike was stirring. They pulled back to the far corner of the bay and huddled together. Mike realized that they were afraid of him. He needed to get up and figure out what he was going to do with these people. He slowly stood, keeping his hands down at his sides avoiding any hostile gestures. "They can't tell what I am underneath the suit. Maybe if I took off the suit they would relax a little," thought Mike. He reach up and unsealed the helmet, a loud hiss resulted. He took the helmet of and he heard the slaves' gasp as they looked upon his face. Apparently he was not what they expected. The small child that he had saved came forward from the group and looked at Mike with awe in her eyes. She did the last thing Mike would have expected her to do. She ran towards Mike away from the group of slaves. Some tried to grab her, but she yanked herself free and made to Mike without complication. She lunged at Mike and grabbed him in a fierce hug, which he returned. He smiled at the antics of the child, picked her up, and walked towards the slaves. She held on around his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. One of the slaves, a middle aged man with a sour expression on his face, walked towards Mike. He looked at the girl with disdain, before he spoke.

"Release that thing right now, Cerelia" "I just wanted to thank him. You don't have to get mean about it Gannon" replied Cerelia.

"You, put her down this instant," said Gannon, while making the obvious hand gesture as to where he was suppose to let her down. Mike was wondering what had crawled up this guys' ass and died. Mike complied with his 'request', though he didn't like the treatment he was receiving.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is pal, but from the looks of things I just saved all of your lives' and your attitude isn't really helping," said Mike.

Gannon was surprised at what Mike had just said and apparently the others were as well. Mike removed Crimson from his back and laid him on the deck so he could remove his combat suit without any interference. The slaves watched as the suit came off of its' own accord, to reveal Mikes' uniform. When the suit was completely off, Mike stretched his aching muscles and worked his stiff joints. He earned a couple of bone popping sounds from his back and shoulders. Mike crouched down so Cerelia could thank him, just as she was about to come forward when Mike saw Gannon reach up his sleeve for something. Everything seemed to slow down, Cerelia moving to hug Mike as a smile slowly spread across her face. Gannon withdrawing a filed shive from his sleeve and, gripping it in his right hand, brought down the sharpened weapon in Mike' general direction. The shive was moving towards Mike, but saw that it would intercept with the girl before it completed its' journey. Mike had to act now if he was going to save the girls' life. He grabbed the girl and swung her around shielding her with his body. The shive struck Mikes' shoulder and the sound of ripping fabric could be heard throughout the bay. There was a lot of pain in his shoulder and couldn't believe that this fucker just stabbed him.

Mike released the girl and rose up to face the piece of shit behind him. If Mike had the opportunity to look into a mirror, he wouldn't be able to recognize the person starring back at him. His eyes were mere slits of smoldering green fire, while the muscles in his face were like hardened marble. He was pissed. And Gannon just realized how screwed he was. Mike didn't mince words in a situation like this, he just acted. Gannon took a defensive posture as he saw Mike coming his way. He lashed out at Mike with a right cross to his face and following it up with a left upper cut. When the hits landed Mike didn't even bother to put up a defensive, he just took them and was amused at how weak these hits were. Mike allowed himself a small chuckle. He then kicked the shmuck right in the nuts. A high pitched scream later, Gannon was vomiting the contents of his stomach on the deck. He then picked the nearly conscientious man under his arms, not even noticing obviously how heavy he was. Gannon was on his feet by then with a barely thought out idea came to his mind. He tried kicking Mike in his abdomen, but Mike caught his leg before he made contact. Mike held on to the leg and swung the shmuck with all of his might. Mike was surprised at what happened next, like the alien he tossed before, Gannon went flying further than the alien did. The man struck the floor, tumbling and rolling fifteen feet. He slowly got up; blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his left arm hung limply at his side. Mike thought that it was time to finish this fight. He ran toward the slave, deciding to tackle him to cause the least damage. Less than five feet away Mike leapt at the broken man. Mike flew at the man at an amazing speed, but didn't stop when he made contact. He had the man around the middle and still kept going for at least another seven feet. When Mike finally got up, he wondered what in the hell had just happened. He looked down at the slave, who was definitely not going to get up again. Mike walked back to the group of slaves, some skirted away from him, watching with awe expressions. Cerelia didn't back away from Mike and came right up to him.