Slowly, ever so slowly, you begin to wake up. You're not sure how you were even sleeping, with the thunderous noise in your ears. What is that? It sounds like a train, engine noise of some kind... Your eyes don't quite want to focus, all you can see is haze grey a few inches from your nose. There's a strong wind gusting past your head. Where am I? How did I get here? Things are beginning to come back to you. Your arrest at a peaceful protest that black bloc agitators had turned violent. Getting caught up in a police dragnet, demanding a badge number before noticing that the men zipping the plastic cuffs onto you weren't wearing badges. Perhaps your brain is warming up a bit. You notice you're lying on your stomach, and try to roll yourself over. This isn't easy, because your arms have been taped together behind your back. And what's that around your ankles, a chain?
"Oh hey, you woke up. That's too bad!" As you complete your roll, the situation you're in becomes apparent. The helicopter is making a wide banking turn, and the sun shines onto your face for a moment. When you can see again, one of the crew is looking down on you. To your left is a row of others lying facedown on the deck of the helicopter. They look to be asleep. Another segment of memory jolts back into place. Detention in a crowded temporary holding facility with dozens of others, no Miranda warning or phone call. You were fed grudgingly, guarded by men who seemed to hate you. Rumors from other prisoners about a group that had thought of resisting instead of just protesting. Finding out a few days later that that group's safe house had been raided. The ones that had resisted had been shot, and even those taken prisoner hadn't been seen since. The crewman kneels down close to you, shouting into his headset.
"We got a live one back here, sir! Must've dosed 'em too low! How far to the release point?" Gloved hands check your pulse, none too gently. You finally try to speak, asking why you're here. Nothing you remember makes sense. They had brought buses in to the detention center, and told the mass of prisoners that they were being transferred. They started processing batches of ten, giving inoculations and shots of antibiotics to keep illness down. It was a miracle that everyone hadn't gotten sick already. Shortly after the shots, you began to feel drowsy. So did the other nine prisoners in your group. After that...
"See that?" The crewman has lifted your upper body off the deck with one arm, showing you the view. "The Pacific ocean, wide and blue. It's almost too good for you." He looks at you with a toothy grin and eyes utterly devoid of warmth. Now that you're sitting up you can see the chain around your ankles, as well as the scrap iron weight welded to it. "Well, it would be if you were asleep. This way, you get to enjoy the view." All you can see is sun, sea and sky. You must be out of sight of land. It also looks as though you're very high up. "You all kept asking for free shit, well here's your free helicopter ride."
It only takes a shove, and you're falling. As you hurtle towards the sea, you catch a glimpse of the helicopter that brought you here. It looks like a haze grey dragonfly, dropping a few more eggs after you. The fall is strangely quiet. Here comes the Pacific, deep and blue-