Splits

Jack Trevelyan is a kid with problems. One, he can't remember his past. Two, he has another, different personality in his subconscious. Three, he's on the run from the most powerful organisation, known as the Network. And now, he has to run, gun, kill, blackmail and do whatever he has to do to destroy the Network. Oh, and Four; he's decided to fall in love with a girl. One that has a few secrets of her own. The question is, can Jack and the girl survive as they cross the continents, with one of the most powerful assassins on their tail, and the voice in Jack's head?

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5. Movement

Lauren barely even reacted as Carrie and Jack bounded up the steps of the university. She was dressed in a white lab coat, and her expression was a mixture between amusement and concern. Jack also detected the faint trace of irritation on her lips, and he smiled weakly, apologizing for the message. She shrugged, and asked them what had happened.

 

"We got attacked. I don't know if they were Network or not, but they found us. We need to move, now, Lauren. Any ideas of what we can do?"

 

Lauren thought for a moment, before pulling a sweet slowly from her pocket, and popping it in her mouth. She looked at the two of them, and pulled out her phone.

 

"I know a few people who owe me a few favors. But, I think, in my expert opinion that you need to disguise yourself and your lovely friend, Jack. I've some hair dye in my office, and a pair of scissors. Why don't you acquaint yourselves with a staff bathroom? Oh, and Jack; make sure you get some passport photos once you get your hair changed; I can't use your old ones, now, can I? Oh, and by the way; I think it might be time to pull out your emergency deposit box."

 

"Thanks, Lauren," Jack replied, brushing past her, "I'll keep it in mind. You still have that car of yours?"

 

Lauren nodded, and Jack moved past her. As Carrie moved past her, she suddenly tugged at her sleeve. She turned around, and Lauren leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially.

 

"One thing about Jack that you need to know; he's dangerous. I know that you can't walk out of this, but, if you've caused this, then all's well and good. If it is indeed him though, we all die. Now, my office is on the first floor. You'll find it; look for the burn marks."

 

Carrie laughed, and ran up the steps. Jack was waiting for her, a puzzled look on his face. He didn't ask, however, and continued walking through the University campus; most of the students seemed to not notice him, but one, a boy with long spiky black hair and a thick leather coat, watched keenly as they brushed past him. Jack's head twitched as the other said he was nervous about him, but he pushed his thoughts away, and ran up the steps, Carrie in tow. He kept moving, until he arrived at a plain white door, embossed with a number and a modest plague announcing who owned the office. Jack pushed it open, and let Carrie inside.

 

It was a large spacious room, with very little furniture. There was just a desk, a cabinet, and a few bookshelves. Jack moved immediately, pulling down an Encyclopedia Britannica, and then opened the top drawer of the desk. From there, he removed two bottles of hair dye. He studied the labels, and a smile split his face. He threw one to Carrie, and, of all things, pulled a towel from the drawer, gloves, and a two cotton shirts. In answer to Carrie's stare, he simply shrugged, before opening the office door, grabbing the Encyclopedia, and walking down the corridor. He then opened a toilet, and pushed Carrie in, despite the protests. He then whipped out a pair of scissors, and locked the door behind them.

 

"Right. Which evil do you want? Red hair, or Silver?"

 

Carrie looked at the two similar bottles of liquid, and reluctantly chose the red bottle. He threw it to her, and she caught it. He then read the instructions on the bottle, and the other wryly stated that he was going to look ridiculous at the end of this. Jack laughed, and told the other to shut up. Carrie watched him as he unscrewed the bottle, and began to get to work. The bottle promised that it would change his colour completely without any of the old colour remaining. And that was what he was counting on. He slowly pulled on the gloves, and, putting his head over the sink, began to massage the dye into his scalp. A few minutes later, he was waiting patiently for the dye to set. Carrie went next, and he slowly scrubbed the dye through her hair, until they were both waiting for the dye to dry, and to get rid of the excess. The other asked Jack to start questioning Carrie about her past, and he sighed slowly.

 

"So," he said at last, "Help me understand the reasons you're running."

 

"Simple," she replied, "I hate my father, and he hates me."

 

"And that's why?" he asked, all sweetness.

 

"I don't really want to talk about it. And do you even need to know, Jack? Or is it just the other, trying to find out about me? I mean, it's a little obvious. Now, shall we wash this stuff out of our hair, or would you rather lose your hair?"

 

Jack went first, and washed his hair, before looking at the results of his dye. He was a bit shocked by the change, but, as he studied it, he found he rather liked the new look. His hair had changed from jet black to a dirty silver color, with streaks of slightly darker hair among the lighter shades. Carrie's hair had also dramatically changed, from a dark soft chocolate brown to a fiery livid red. She looked at herself in the mirror, and found that she quite liked it. She commented on it, and then Jack put down the toilet lid, before placing the Encyclopedia on top, making a distinctive metal clang. Carrie looked at it, as Jack lifted the cover, revealing a small safe after a few pages of definitions. He pulled a key from around his neck, and placed it into the keyhole, and clicked it open. He opened the safe, and pulled out the objects that he had placed inside it as soon as he had escaped from the Network. He needed them now. Inside the box was a jet black phone, another book of notes similar to the one in his bag, and, finally, and perhaps, most importantly, there was the one object that he could never leave behind; the one object that the other was afraid of. It seemed to be a small, thin golden bracelet, and he slipped it on his wrist. He then turned to explain to Carrie.

 

"This is called the Suppressor," he told her, "Basically, when I was at the Network, the other was uncontrollable, so they built this to keep him sedated, and therefore, safe. This releases morphia, but a special form of it, but, instead of effecting me and him, it only effects him, because of our special halves. He has his own nervous system, so it doesn't get me. Now, then, let me just get this working!"

 

He pressed a panel on the bracelet, and he jerked as a syringe buried itself into his wrist. The other gave a little shriek, and then fell asleep. Carrie looked at him, and he shook his head, before filling his bag with the things from the Encyclopedia. He then held out his hand to Carrie.

 

"Phone, please." he breezily announced. Carrie reluctantly handed the phone over, and he slipped it into a bag. He then handed it back to Carrie, with a warning not to open it.

 

"The bag will stop the signals being received by the host devices. It should give you a little help until we can rewrite your phone system. Now, let's get going. Lauren won't be happy if we're late."

 

They replaced the Encyclopedia, and then hurried outside. Lauren was waiting, along with a little zippy sports car. Four seats, painted red, with luxurious seating and trims. Lauren opened the door, and Carrie was about to clamber into the back when Jack nipped in, and sat on the back seat.

 

"You sit with Lauren; girly chat, or whatever. I need a nap, and, to be honest, I think my brain might blow a fuse soon. Don't mind me!"

 

He closed his hands, stroked his bracelet, and was almost immediately asleep, with the seat-belt fastened.

 

***

 

"He's quite mad, isn't he?" Carrie ventured. They were racing down the road, heading towards one of the airports, and Lauren, as far as she could see, was fully in control of the car. They had already given several pensioners, tootling along, heart failure, and they were easily pushing 80 miles an hour.

 

"Well, can you blame him being mad? With two conflicting personalities bouncing around that brain of his, of course he's quite mad. But still, aren't we all really mad, under the skin? I mean, most of the great minds are completely mad. The only difference between madness and sheer genius is only success. But some evil people are successful, and that means the world sees them only as geniuses. I should know; my old employer was like that. I came from the same place as him," she pointed at the sleeping Jack, "And I was no better than him, really. I was trapped, a prisoner. It's just that the other got us all out. He was the one who freed us. So, we keep him awake, looking after us all. The only problem is that, if the other does something stupid, The Network finds us. And, trust me, you really don't want that happening. They stop and stick at nothing. They will kill without remorse, butcher people in the name of science, and do things far worse than what they did to him. I mean, look at me. I was tipped to be a model."

 

"What happened," Carrie asked, fearing the reply.

 

"They butchered me, filled me with lights and clockwork. I still have the scars they left behind, you know, and I still have the tattoo. He was lucky; he wasn't there long enough, and he was too untested, to receive the mark. I guess it was lucky, for him. I wasn't, as such."

 

Carrie looked towards the clinical, cool woman. She was alone, aside from Jack and the other. As Lauren drove on, Carrie thought about what had happened to her. What had driven her away from her father. Lauren, intercepting her thoughts, spoke aloud.

 

"Tell me, why were they after you, Carrie? What had you done to them?"

 

Carrie stared straight ahead at the road, spanning out before her. She then pulled a memory stick from around her neck, and showed it to Lauren.

 

"On that stick is the data of all my father's crimes, and all his assets and spies. I stole it from him after he had killed off most of the rest of the family who he thought were getting too close to the truth about him. All I have to do is plug this in to a computer, and that's the writing on the wall for my father and his agents."

 

Lauren kept driving, when, all of a sudden, out of the blue, a terrific shot rang out, and she skidded.

Looking in her rear view mirror, she saw three black cars, along with a lorry. The intent was written on the drivers' faces, and she revved the engine. Carrie looked behind her, and tried to shake Jack awake. But he simply lolled forward, the morphine having an effect on him. Lauren sent the car spinning, until they were on the other side of the road, heading towards the cars and lorry. And that was when Carrie saw the mad look in her eyes, and she was sure that they were going to die in this car, heading at these vehicles. And, all of a sudden, Jack was awake, bronze eyes blazing. He threw open the window, and aimed a gun Carrie had not noticed before. As they whizzed past the first car, he squeezed off three precise shots, and three splatters of blood tainted the windows of the car.

 

"Drive, Lauren, drive!" the other screamed, "And, for God's sake, don't stop!"

 

Lauren obeyed, pressing her foot down, and Carrie was pushed back in her seat as they increased their speed. 

 

"We need to go, quickly!"

 

 

 

 

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