Day wasn't doing anything particularly interesting. He looked bored, actually, sitting on the edge of his cot and watching that blasted spider that had apparently made a reappearance. His wounds– though still present and far from gone– had healed a bit over the past few days, so he at least found himself capable of sitting up and moving around with less agony– which was always a good thing. He glanced up at her as she entered. "I'm listening."
"In three days you will be moved for your trial, where there is a chance that you will get the death penalty or worse," Zanna responded making sure the door was shut behind her. She walked over to where he was sitting. He was mobile and should be able to escape, "So we either need to get you out today or tomorrow, whichever you think will work best with your wounds."
"Today," Day blurted out immediately. "My wounds will be fine." Truth be told, he wasn't willing to stick around and risk getting more wounds. Or risk getting taken for trial. "The sooner we get out of this place, the better."
Zanna nodded and started messing around with her gauntlets. She went into deep thought trying to figure out when the best time to get equipment. Her eyes wandered to the separate torture room. She could always get gear from there. A spare, more destructive, whip. There was a gun in there she was pretty sure. She looked back to Day and began to unchain him from the bed, "How does now work? You'll have to follow my lead for a moment, but we can get you out sooner than later."
A grin formed behind Day's muzzle– that infernal piece of leather and metal that he wanted to incarcerate in a raging fire. "Now's perfect for me." And, as for following her lead– well, he had no qualms with that, either. Not if it meant getting him out of this place and away from his punishment– which was certain would be far worse than death.
Zanna lead him into the torture room letting that door shut behind them as well. She glanced around for hidden cameras luckily finding none and went to remove the blasted muzzle off his face along with his chains. Once done she turned around and opened the wall of torture tools. She looked over at him with a grin as she reached for the three-strike whip and a blaster pistol, "Take whatever you feel like. We're not coming back here."
"Thank God that's over," Day muttered, rubbing his jaw where the muzzle had been. He smirked a bit as he looked around for anything to take. It felt nice to get his hands back on a lethal weapon. He chose a large gun with a strap on it that he threw over his shoulder. He probably would've preferred a sword, considering that was the weapon most attributed to him, but he realized it wasn't as efficient as a gun. "Holy cow." He picked up a mace– why on earth that was here, one could only speculate– and grinned. "You could do someone in with this bad boy. I want it."
Zanna laughed as he picked up the mace, "Take it, it's nothing I want." She was raiding basically all of the guns minus the large gun Day already had. It was her preferred weapon of choice, minus the whip on her hip. She finished arming herself to the brim and looked to him, "Though I hope you remember we're using these only if necessary. I don't want to kill if we don't have to."
"Dang it," Day said with false disappointment, like when you buy a child a new toy but tell them not to open it until they get home. He swung it in his hand to feel the weight of it. Nice and heavy, but not too heavy. Perfect for bashing heads and crushing bones. "Okay. Fine. I won't kill anybody. I'll just maim them a little." He paused, then he looked a little concerned, like she might thing he's serious. "I'm kidding, by the way. I won't hurt anyone unless it's just necessary." As for Day, he seemed to prefer the hand-held melee weapons– the kinds that don't kill instantly but cause a lot of damage and pain if you're unlucky enough to be on the wrong end of them.
"Good," Zanna nodded and kept the three-strike on her hip in her dominant hand switching it out with her old whip while keeping a pistol in her hand. She walked over to the door and cracked it open slightly before cracking open the other door to listen for anyone coming. She figured Day would follow after her. Once she was certain no one was coming she gestured to Day, "It's clear. Let's get a move on."
Day nodded, obediently following. He was good at being quiet, even in spite of his false leg. Undoubtedly due to his many years of training and operating under dangerous conditions. He didn't say a word, rather followed her, calm yet alert, weapon ready in case of any oncoming threats.
Zanna lead him through the twists and turns of the compound. She had picked a route with no surveillance cameras and few guards. Of course that didn’t guarantee completely unnoticed passage, but it was close. They were almost two-thirds to the exit when the first soldier spotted them. Zanna didn’t hesitate once she saw him and she shot the boy feeling guilt almost immediately after doing so. But it had been too late as the alarms began to go off, “We need to run.”
"Shoot," Day muttered, though he didn't sound nearly as worried as one would've expected, considering his fate if he were to be caught. "Lead, because I don't know where the heck I'm going." He followed her– thankfully able to keep up with her for the most part. Sure, there were still lingering injuries that may have compromised him a bit, but he had endured so much in his life that pain was easily masked and ignored– so this didn't affect him much. "Are there any vehicles involved in your plan? You know– planes or trucks or anything–"
All throughout the compound, soldiers were now on their way to pursue the escapees.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?” Zanna asked him her gun at the ready. She was running through the halls leading Day towards the vehicle bay, but at the same time making sure he stuck with her. If either of them were getting captured it was going to be her.
"Just making sure, cuz we're definitely gonna need it." Day might've had more to say if a door hadn't opened up to reveal a group of armed soldiers at the ready, weapons pointed at them both. Day looked relatively unconcerned– but he'd had a lot of battle experience in his life, so that was relatively unsurprising.
"Stop!" one of the soldiers commanded.
"Why? What're you gonna do? Shoot me?" Day spat. Considering that his alternative was the trial– and Zanna's probably would be a trial, too– getting shot didn't seem like much a threat. The soldiers wouldn't shoot to kill anyway. Then again, their weapons were probably set on stun.
His wasn't.
The fired first, but they weren't close enough to hit them yet, and technically Zanna and Day were still moving targets.
He swung the gun off of his back and fired at the soldiers, though he was intentionally not making kill shots. He aimed low. Legs and below the waist. As much as he didn't mind to kill if it were necessary, he'd been taught the battle tactic of injuring your opponents rather than killing them. If you injure one, you take out two– because, more than likely, another soldier will go to make sure their ally is okay. That was how soldiers worked.
Some of his bullets hit them; some didn't. It was hard to aim while he was running. Either way, he spared his ammo– and the soldiers' limbs– when he felt that firing at them was no longer necessary, picking up the pace.
Zanna had used her handgun and fired the armed squadron with Day not bothered at all by them. She didn’t aim anywhere deadly but also flippantly used her ammo. She had plenty of it so no need to be conservative with it. She glanced at him, “The vehicle bay is right ahead.”
She opened up the next door to find more soldiers. With more guns. She kept running let out a slight huff and shot the head soldier in the leg before he could say anything. Her handgun ran out and while in the process of switching to another one of her guns a lucky bullet tore through her arm. Zanna grit her teeth and said nothing as she pulled her other gun out and probably made her first kill of the day. She felt no guilt about that one.
Day cursed when he saw the bullet go through her arm, though he didn't directly acknowledge it. He was too busy trying to keep soldiers back and keep moving. He may have accidentally killed a handful by now. Aimed a tad bit too high. Poor dudes. But for the most part, he was trying to spare their lives if possible. Due to Zanna's request, more than anything.
"Storm!" Thomas's unmistakable voice echoed off of the walls as he appeared with more soldiers. It was more desperate than angry. More hurt than hate. "What are you doing?"
Zanna’s blood went cold as she heard Ward’s voice. She had hoped not to run into her old commander, but fate had different plans. She continued to fire off shots but there were getting to be a tad too many. Her hand reached down and unhooked the three-strike whip from her belt. They had to run through the crowd of soldiers and this would definitely take care of them. She didn’t hesitate as she lashed it out at the crowd. She didn’t want to answer Ward yet she did anyway, “I, what do you think I’m doing? We, I was wrong about so many things. And now I’m trying to right them.”
Thomas frowned, pursuing them at a distance (probably to avoid that whip of hers). "What? This isn't the way to right anything, I'll tell you that much! You have no idea what you're even doing–" he spat, desperation rising. He sounded as worried as he did commanding. "I'm serious, Storm! Stand down, or you'll regret it– And that's not a threat! It's a warning!"
Day only snorted, though he didn't bother offering his input. He slammed the butt of his gun over the head of a nearby soldier and kept moving, though at this point the oncoming soldiers were backing down. They didn't want to get shot or sliced by Zanna's whip. Plus, Day was starting to wave the mace around, and nobody wanted to get hit with that either.
"I know what I'm doing," Zanna spat back. She kept her whip out but pulled out another hand pistol so she could shoot the enemies as well. The wound on her arm was now oozing blood, but she couldn't' feel it yet, probably a good thing. She continued her way to the vehicles going for one of the trucks. She silently dared anyone to come close to her with both a three-strike and gun in hand, "And frankly I don't care about consequences anymore. All I've heard is lie after lie after lie and I'm going to make some decisions on my own for once."
Day smiled.
Thomas didn't.
"You've known me for years," the latter countered. "I've been your ally all that time, have I not? And now you're going to defect to the side of an enemy that you've only known for a week? Stop for a second and think about this, Storm! This is a mistake–"
Day interrupted him with a scoff. "You've lied to her for years. You and your 'superiors.'" He backed on up to the truck grabbed the handle to see if it was unlocked.
It was.
He gave it a good yank, swinging it open, peering inside.
Thomas's face reddened with anger, though he and the other soldiers had stopped advancing. Nobody was willing to die. "Insanity! This is crazy. Don't you remember who he is? What he's done?!"
"I remember who he is. I remember what he's done," Zanna responded meeting Thomas's eyes her own still fueled with her inner fire. She kept the whip by her side, but put the gun away in favor of tossing Day a pair of keys that would work on the truck. She stood her ground keeping away everyone from the truck, "And I also remember what I've done. So in that sense, I would call me and Day on even playing field wouldn't you, commander?"
"Not even close!" Thomas barked in response, scowling a bit. He knew she would not listen now. He could see the determination in her eyes. The fire.
Fire. A bright thing. Burning. Powerful. Nearly unstoppable. The very reason he had chosen her to go after Absalom. But there was one problem with fire, one thing that he had failed to recognize before now. Fire is destructive. It will destroy anything in its path if necessary. It is nearly unstoppable– and the stronger it gets, the harder it is to quench.
And nobody– nobody– can control it.
Thomas surely couldn't.
Day caught the keys and swung himself into the truck, jamming the key into the ignition. "Well, it's been a nice stay and all," he called to the solider's and Commander Ward, sounding far too relaxed for the situation. "But I think I ought to be leaving. The room service here is decent, but the food is trash and the decor lackluster at best. I'll give it two stars."
Thomas's face was red with anger, but he held up a hand to his soldiers and informed them to stand down. He knew they'd just get hurt if they tried to go after them, anyways. It was too late to stop either Storm or Day. "You know we'll find you, Storm," he growled. "Both of you. And the repercussions for this kind of act– well, this is treason. I'll give you once more chance to stand down. If you stand down now, I'll make sure the trial leans in your favor, Storm. You've always been a good soldier. I respect you. But this is the only offer."
Zanna forced herself not to laugh at Day's comments and she moved so she was on the side of the truck. Her whip had been put away in favor of a gun and holding onto the side of the truck. Her eyes seemed to burn brighter than ever, far more than they ever did when she was in the army fighting against the Reformers. She had chosen her side of this upcoming fight if it ever came down to that, and it wasn't on the side she had been on beforehand, "I'll take the punishment for treason if you find me again. I'm ready for the consequences."
Thomas clenched his jaw. "As you wish, Storm. This could result in another war! Another resistance! Do you know what that would do to this country? Do you know what you're doing? He's a terrorist! All of them are!" He swung his hand in a sweeping motion, probably referring to the Reformers. "Don't say I didn't warn you." His fists tightened, though neither he nor his men advanced on her. They didn't shoot the tires, because they were impenetrable. They didn't try to damage the truck, because it was indestructible. The downfall (and plus-side) to military equipment. "Don't say I didn't give you the opportunity to fix this. Whatever comes after this– know that you are to blame."
"Come on," Day motioned for Storm to get in. "We gotta get moving." The doors to the vehicle bay was closed, but Day knew good and well that wouldn't be a problem. These vehicles were armed, and if they didn't open the doors for him, he'd be more than happy to blow them off of their hinges. His finger already hovered near the button to do so.