《HABITAT》


 ZERO

    ZERO


    ¡°How are his vitals?¡± he asked, his fingers rapidly typing commands on a tablet, adjusting conditions and reviewing settings. After a moment of silence, he turned to look to his assistant, intently staring at a large monitor. Her soft, young face glowed faintly in the blue-white light of the screen in the dark room, illuminating threads of her hair tied back into a ponytail. her expression was focused and polite, with unbridled curiosity and fascination leaking from behind her professional mask. In stark contrast, his weathered, hardened face, bushy eyebrows and stubbled chin relayed an expression of mild irritation and fatigue, through the permanent filter of bitterness acquired from years of life. He raked his hand through his loosely combed black hair and opened up the boy¡¯s profile on his tablet.


    On the screen in front of them, curled in a fetal position and floating in murky liquid, was a naked, tranquilized adolescent male.


    There was a small metal device embedded in his wrist with wires and thin acrylic tubes and cables snaking up his arm and into the ceiling of his glass prison, with the number 0023 tattooed on his right calf.


    Asleep in his test tube, his heartbeat, breathing, brain activity and eye-movement constantly being tracked and monitored.


    He was an experiment in a test tube, not a human. A science experiment.


    ¡°Uhm, yes, his vitals are¡­¡±


    ¡°I already checked.¡± He interrupted quietly.


    The ambience of the room filled the space between their words.


    ¡°How¡¯s the other?¡± an official questioned from behind them, taking notes on his tablet.


    ¡°She¡¯s stable. Jared¡¯s team is watching her.¡± Coal muttered, distracted with his transparent glass tablet, glowing faintly.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    After another minute he set down the tablet and folded his hands behind his back, standing still in the dark ambience of the room as the lab systems worked silently in the background.


    They stood in silence, watching the timer tick down. Around two minutes to go.


    ¡°Dr. Coal, which one do you think will survive?¡± she said, barely above a whisper, in the broken way your voice sounds when you¡¯ve not spoken for a while.


    The scientist sighed and leaned back against a chair. He gestured towards a secretary and ordered a cup of coffee from the silent room of well-dressed observers sitting in steel chairs behind them in the dark. Their faces were blank and white and shadowed.


    Coal studied the boy¡¯s face.


    ¡°You know I don¡¯t know the answer to that, Lauren.¡± He¡¯d been with the program for fourteen brutal years and still hadn¡¯t grown used to the feeling of uncertainty that always preceded deployment.


    ¡°One minute until deployment,¡± A subhuman voice crackled through an intercom. The ambience of the room was pierced by whispers in the shade, machines and systems running in the background. The dark metal of the room matched its inhabitants; dark, metal observers. Scientists began arguing in the room behind them in muffled shouts, running final preparation procedures. The bustle of scientists swarming around the glass cylinder on the screen evacuated the room that the pod sat in, suspended by hydraulics and wires. With a deafening boom, a blinding beam of light split the shadowy air of the room in half in the flickering image on the monitor, illuminating the watcher¡¯s faces as the door slowly opened above the pod.


    ¡°Coal?¡± Lauren said.


    ¡°Yes?¡± His tired eyes glanced over at her young ones- pupils wide and suddenly filled with fear


    The mentor and his apprentice suddenly were human again. They were afraid.


    ¡°Thirty seconds, twenty-nine,¡­¡± the voice on the intercom so marred by static it was barely human.


    The two silhouettes¡¯ fingers touched in the shadows.


    The countdown crackled in the intercom, echoing in the darkness as the scientists quieted, watching in tense anticipation. They had begun their final experiment.


    Everything hung in the balance this time.


    Dr. Coal and Lauren¡¯s fingertips found eachother in the dark.


    They clasped hands tightly as they watched the monitor in silence.

 ONE

    ONE


    ¡°Ouch. What the heck?¡± Bay said, his voice slurred and muffled, nose and mouth covered in an oxygen mask. His body was completely submerged in water. His hands traveled to his head, which felt weird- it was hairless, perfectly smooth. He had no idea where he was. It was dark. He slowly opened his eyes then immediately shut them again, feeling as if they¡¯d been scorched by acid. All he had seen during the instant they were open was very blurred, faint blue light.


    What is happening???


    His neck and wrist throbbed and his eyes burned. He felt like he was in zero gravity- whatever he was floating in did not feel like water- more like maple syrup or something. His ears were filled with fluid, and it sounded like he was ten miles deep in the ocean. He extended his arms and felt the walls of the chamber, perfectly smooth and very cold, in a perfect circle around him. He pounded on it with his fists, and realized there was something embedded in his wrist that restricted his motion. He pulled at it and felt a sharp pain. He began gingerly banging on the walls again with his other hand, but nothing happened. The next thing Bay noticed froze him in place: the mask tightly clamped over his nose and mouth had suddenly stopped providing him with oxygen.


    Panic descended on him.


    He frantically pounded on the walls for a few seconds, but the walls felt like titanium. He forced his eyes open again, then immediately clamped them shut in pain, this time catching a blurred glimpse of light and a green glow- the walls were glass.


    I can break glass.


    Searching his body for any kind of weapon or tool, his hand finding the metal object embedded in his wrist. Head pounding. Lungs burning. Blind, drowning.


    He had to get out now. He lifted his wrist and felt the device- it felt heavy, with a sharp, triangular point extending outward, like a pyramid. He could use the metal to break the glass. He ripped it out of his flesh and screamed, his mask filling with water, his body exploding in white hot pain, accentuated by the burning fluid scorching the wound like fire. His blood blossomed in the pod. The device in his hand had metal protrusions on it- two razor sharp, serrated knives. That must be how it stayed in his skin. Feeling faint, he slammed the monitor as hard as he could against the glass, scraping and bending the knives against the wall. It thudded against the glass and ricocheted like it was struck with a bouncy ball. The chamber resonated a dark tone from the impact.


    Nauseous with pain, Bay realized he was going to die.


    I will not die. I cannot die.


    He hurled it at the glass again with all his strength, and heard the glass crack and strain- not quite enough. Now it just needed some convincing to break it open. The oxygen mask felt like it was sucking the air from is chest. His screaming was drowned in the water. In a last desperate attempt, he placed his back against the opposite wall and kicked with both feet as hard as he could at the weakened glass, finally rupturing it.


    His world dissolved into white.


    Bay exploded out of the side like a whale breaching the surface of the sea, landing on something bristly and thick. Water gushed out of the pod and soaked into the earth around him. His bare skin had scratched against a shard of glass on his back which bled and stung. He lay on the ground, gasping for air in the freezing cold. His wrist bled vines across his skin. It felt like he¡¯d ripped a meat-hook out of it. He sobbed on the ground, shivering and bleeding, alone.


    It was over.


    I escaped.


    Bay breathed, breathed. He coughed out the liquid filling his lungs.


    In¡­


    Out.


    His heartbeat slowed.


    His wrist throbbed.


    His ears were filled with water and all sound was muted and dark.


    He opened his eyes a third time- this time to air. The burning sensation had faded and was replaced with blurred vision. His eyes adjusted to the morning light and focused on the light green he had seen from the pod. The pain in his wrist and back subsided enough for him to move and breathe, aching and throbbing immensely with every heartbeat. He examined the wound¡­ jagged and deep, two vertical, centimeter long cuts in the center of his wrist, aligned one above the other. On the ground, his eyes blurring and focusing again, he registered flashes of light, and he smelled a mixture of coppery blood and sharp smoke, like sulfur. The pod was sparking with electricity near the top, the embers dive-bombing like fireflies into the pool of water at the bottom, hissing and crackling as each one touched the surface.


    Blades like fractured ice scattered on the ground and on the side of the pod reflected the blue-grey haze of the sky- so alien and foreign. Cracks formed an intricate mosaic on the side of the pod surrounding the gaping breach like a spiderweb, shards like monster talons reaching in.


    He¡¯d ripped the monitor¡¯s cables halfway out of the pod¡¯s roof. Like a dead viper, he could see the cables coiled on the base of the pod, bearing it¡¯s silver fangs.


    He moaned in pain, clutching his wrist and gritting his teeth.


    It hurts¡­ so bad. So much pain. It aches deep.


    In the fractured and half broken glass of the tube, the oxygen mask lay in a pool of saltwater at the bottom, gurgling and slurping up the pod¡¯s sticky liquid at the bottom of the cell.


    It had been sucking out the air from his body.


    The water drained from his face and ears and eyes, trickling down his face. The ground felt gritty¡­ dusty, filthy. He opened his eyes, and all of his senses exploded as he was bombarded with a soundscape and landscape unlike anything he¡¯d seen in his life.


    Light.


    Humidity.


    The air was¡­ moving, shifting, cold against his wet skin, yet somehow there were no fans or air vents in sight, nor any sound of them. Where the heck was it coming from?


    Wind¡­ movement in the air created by a butterfly effect of air particles shifting in the atmosphere¡­ How do I know that?


    There were no sounds of any artificial technology at all.


    In its place were other sounds.


    Noises completely alien to him. Sounds of nature.


    He gingerly sat up. His skin was now covered in mud and blood, grit and dust, and fibers from the plants on the ground. Rough bristles of dry, tall grass caressed his skin. He smelled the earthy scent of wet ground and clean air. He focused on the noise he heard. It was so strange, and beautiful. A kind of repetitive, mechanical, yet organic chirping, combined with the sound of what sounded like whistling. It was elaborate and beautiful, musical, and chirped in a vaguely familiar repeating pattern. He tried to remember the names of these sounds¡­ they were called ¡°crickets¡± he thought. He couldn¡¯t be sure. Come to think of it, he could remember almost nothing about his past¡­ except that he¡¯d never seen anything like this. He¡¯d heard about a flying creature that made these noises. He guessed they also were called crickets.


    He arose.


    Behind him with a cracking and grinding sound like straining ice the fractured shell of the pod retracted into the ground and was swallowed by the earth.


    The green wall in the distance revealed itself to be a barrier of viridian evergreen pines and firs, entangled in the vapor of the morning.


    Some distant creature cried out in a high, eerie song.


    This is forest.


    They taught me what forest is.


    Wind stirred the fog into silent wolves and serpents of mist lurked everywhere. The sky was covered in dark clouds and the waxing light told him that it had just begun the day cycle.


    So cold.


    His heart was pounding and his mind reeling.


    He was on the surface.


    He hadn¡¯t escaped.


    It wasn¡¯t over.


    ¡­


    Coal stared intently at the monitor as scientists behind him scrambled.


    ¡°We need a visual! We need a visual!¡± Dr. Pau said, frantically opening all the cameras in the deployment sector on the main screen.


    ¡°Lauren, Check cam 24-17.¡± Coal said quietly and calmly. ¡°Where¡¯s my coffee?¡±


    Nobody listened. Everyone was upset in some way¡­ worried, stressed, angry, scared. What had just happened was remarkable. Certainly unplanned.


    For once, Dr. Coal seemed to be the only one among the scientists who was not comparatively unhappy.


    He was intrigued. Curious. Interested. The unexpected, to him, was an opportunity to learn more about his subjects. He wasn¡¯t unpleased. By the same token, they were certainly unprepared for this, and it threw a wrench in all of their plans. It was a part of the organic nature of science, the unexplored territory where the greatest discoveries all come from.


    The Control does not appreciate that kind of nuance.


    ¡°Dr. Pau!¡± A slick looking agent shouted above the chaos.


    ¡°What?!¡± Lauren barked.


    ¡°We need to file a report on... what just happened.¡±


    ¡°A, um¡­ one of the¡­ HEY SOMEBODY GET A VISUAL ON THIS GUY!¡± Her voice rose in pitch and her expression was warped by stress.


    ¡°Lauren. Chill.¡± Dr. Coal said quietly, eyes traveling across Patient 0023¡¯s status:


    S-0023 MONITOR sTATUS: DISCONNECTED


    ¡°Can somebody tell me what is going on?!¡± The agent shouted, throwing his hands in the air as scientists scuttled around the room, darting in and out hallways.


    ¡°One of our subjects displayed an unusually¡­ er, creative escape tactic.¡± Coal said, his attention mostly focused on rapidly typing commands on his tablet.


    ¡°His eyes were blinded by the saltwater and he couldn¡¯t find the ¡°release¡± switch on the inside of the pod. The subject should¡¯ve died. But he was smarter than that, or more driven, or crazy, one of the three. So instead¡­¡± He pulled up an image of the fractured pod on the big screen and zoomed in on the wrist monitor. ¡°...he ripped his tracking monitor out of his wrist¡­ which would¡¯ve caused incredible pain¡­ and used it to break the pod open and escape, displaying strength and innovation¡­¡± As he said it, Dr. Coals eyebrows furrowed, drinking in the implications of those words.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Coal set down his tablet and walked swiftly into the Pod Room, followed by the flustered agent, rubbing his hand against his bald head and excessively clicking his pen.


    Coal placed his keycard on the door which split like the petals of a flower and vanished into the walls, revealing a large open room filled with wires, cables and hydraulics.


    On a pedestal in the center was the chrysalis.


    It was destroyed, its glass shattered in four places, the top cables halfway ripped out, and the door permanently jammed. Sparks from the top flickered in the chamber and crackled in the fluid at the bottom of the pod, which dripped from every surface.


    ¡°Usually, we only open the pod to release them when they pull the switch at the top, once they¡¯ve drained the Simniotic fluid from it¡­¡±


    ¡°Simniotic?¡± The agent questioned skeptically.


    Dr. Coal rolled his eyes and pried free a blade of the glass, turning it over in his hand.


    ¡°It¡¯s designed to simulate amniotic fluid, so we call it Simniotic liquid- a compound of 96.2% water and inorganic salts, as well as hormones and traces of melatonin. Anyway¡­ Bay just did something we didn¡¯t think was possible, and because of it, the pod is broken, and because he ripped his wrist monitor out, we¡¯re unable to¡­. How do I put it. Tracking him will become more¡­ challenging.¡±


    ¡°So, this kid- er, test subject -was an idiot who was only saved by his brute strength?


    ¡°Not necessarily. Half of our subjects never find the release lever, especially when the pod is still full of liquid, and in a real-life situation, a switch like that wouldn¡¯t exist, so it¡¯s natural to search for another means to escape. It¡¯s a sort of cruel puzzle. He figured out possibly the only loophole in our otherwise flawless test.¡±


    ¡°So, this was a mistake¡­ he broke the system?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, but it¡¯s under control. One of our drones will find him and tranquilize him,¡± Dr. Coal said shortly, focusing on the camera feed on his tablet, which was beeping.


    No camera in the area detected motion. He was already in the woods.


    ¡°The situation is under control? I have to report to my superior immediately.¡±


    Dr. Coal eyes fixed on the shattered husk of the broken pod.


    That pod was made of centimeter-thick semi-tempered glass; It was almost impossible to break by beating it or punching it. He¡¯d personally taken a hammer to one of their test pods. But, it could be broken with a single piece of porcelain. The porcelain is brittle and absurdly sharp, and able to shatter it into smaller, knife like pieces. Anything hard and very sharp could. Somehow, via experience or raw intuition, he knew to use the edge of the steel tracking device to shatter the glass. Even then it would require brute amounts of force to break it, the edge of the device wasn¡¯t sharp enough to shatter it with a single touch, and his wrist was bleeding and probably in agony from the salts. He had never seen so much power and determination and intelligence in one of his subjects. It had already been an hour since he¡¯d left the pod and entered the forest. The chances of a drone locating him now were rapidly shrinking.


    This changed everything. Suddenly, the outcome of the experiment had many more possibilities, and Coal had a very bad idea brewing in the back of his head.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he lied. ¡°The situation is under control.¡±


    ¡­


    Bay rifled through the backpack, favoring his right hand. The wound had stopped bleeding about 15 minutes into his hike. A few minutes in, it started raining, and he found shelter in a small grove of trees.


    He¡¯d found the backpack hanging on a tree just outside the treeline by the grove. In it were clothes and supplies; a pair of grey cargo shorts, a clean white t-shirt and a pair of boxers, a pair of shoes and socks, antibiotics, pain meds, a cigarette lighter and a large, black knife with some paracord wrapped around the handle. In his pocket he found a compact silver multi-tool.


    Someone was looking out for him.


    It was no accident that he was here.


    He paused for a moment, savoring the sensation of being alive at all. Despite the pain and discomfort and complete and total disorientation, he was thankful he was still alive to feel it. He¡¯d almost died less than an hour ago. The feeling of his heartbeat, of raindrops trickling down his head and neck. The sound of birds. None of it he could hear or feel in the cold darkness of a coffin.


    The sky, at least, he thought that was what it was called, was covered in a veil of mist, like steam from an air vent.


    Air vent. Where did that image come from?


    The thing that most disturbed Bay about his situation, despite the trauma and fear he had just experienced, was his lack of memory.


    He remembered nothing.


    It was as if he¡¯d just lost a thought¡­ it was right there in his mind, but he had no access to it. Like a vague silhouette or shadow. Just out of reach.


    He¡¯d spent thirty minutes sitting, naked, covered in his own blood, crying, searching his mind for any trace of memory. He only knew his name--Bay--and the vague outline of a young woman¡¯s face, along with a few random shreds of memory. A warm presence standing over him. An image of a cement passageway with water trickling through it, moss growing across the sides and top. A dead flower. His own reflection in a pool of water in a gutter.


    He couldn¡¯t remember his own eye color.


    He shook his head, trying to remember what he was doing.


    Oh yeah. Water.


    On his hike, he¡¯d decided to think up a plan of action.


    One: Find some kind of clothing. Well, that was surprisingly easy.


    Two: Find water.


    Three: Find shelter.


    Those last two worried him. He could eat leaves if he had to, and he¡¯d seen creatures scuttling around the woods he could hunt. Where would he get clean water, though, other than by opening his mouth and hoping to catch some raindrops?


    I¡¯d need a tarp to collect rainwater. Maybe I can find a creek to drink from.


    Bay tucked the knife through his belt loop and pulled his sneakers on.


    Ow.


    His wrist tingled oddly, like it was being shocked.


    In confusion, Bay held up his wrist and examined the wound.


    No way.


    It was halfway healed, and although slightly red and puffy, the wound was closed. It had already begun to heal itself, and it was already beginning to hurt less. His hand traveled to his back to feel the cut he¡¯d gotten from the glass, expecting it to have bled through his shirt.


    Instead he felt nothing. His skin was dirty and sticky from sweat, but there was no trace of any wound save a thin tender line marking his skin where the cut used to be.


    It¡¯s gone?


    Bay dug through the loose soil and dry leaves until found a sharp rock. He gritted his teeth and scratched his arm deep, as hard as he could. He gasped with pain as the wound bled momentarily, then, as he watched, the wound, very slowly, began to fade and close. In less than two minutes it was entirely gone, except for a slightly tender, pink mark less than an inch long, like a rug burn.


    How am I doing that? My body can heal itself¡­ that¡¯s incredible.


    He froze.


    What¡¯s that noise?


    He didn¡¯t know how¡­. He couldn¡¯t see or hear anything consciously¡­ but he knew something was coming. He felt it. Like a tingle of static electricity on his scalp and the base of his neck, he could feel a low frequency vibration in the distance.


    His eyes scanned the horizon to the east.


    He could hear jet engines.


    He knew exactly what it was.


    Lightweight UAV. Maybe a Scout Drone. Less than a klick away.


    He had no idea how he knew this. Just that it was bad. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and bolted deeper into the forest.


    ...


    Coal brushed past the official interrogating him and left the room.


    ¡°Dr. Pau is in command until I come back. Find the subject, and keep him alive. I¡¯m getting some coffee.¡±


    ¡°Coal!¡± Lauren grumbled after him as the room turned to her for instruction.


    He walked briskly down the cement, windowless hallway beneath blinding, naked fluorescent bulbs, his head pulsing with thoughts and fears and interest.


    I never expected one of my subjects to remove their trackers.


    A Tracking Wrist Monitor is embedded into the flesh the via two jagged knife blades, With sensors connected to the Meridian nerve and Radial Palmar Artery.


    His footsteps slowed and his eyes scanned the floor, seeing nothing.


    It¡¯s connected to his nervous system and bloodstream to monitor their vitals and to administer low voltage shocks directly into the nervous system to alert or punish subjects. The blades are hooked into the skin, requiring huge amounts of strength to pull out. It would be immensely painful to remove, like twisting the nerve in your funny bone. His regeneration abilities may heal most wounds, but a cut like that would leave a permanent scar.


    The implications of that kind of scrappiness astounded him. He was sharp. Fast. Not afraid to do what is necessary.


    Bay¡¯s training and natural instinct, combined with the fact that he''d ripped out his tracker, would make him nearly impossible to catch in such a large area. He would likely die of infection or exhaustion if he evaded the drones¡­ but if he survived?


    Coal¡¯s eyes smoldered as his feet stomped through the steel hallways. Scientists and guards swarmed the rooms surrounding the base. His little bad idea was taking root in his mind, a little seed beginning to grow in his head, and it would continue to grow and burst out of his ears unless he made a decision about it. He needed to clear his head.


    ...


    Bay ducked under a fallen tree and scrambled upright again. The sound of the approaching machine behind him grew louder and louder until it became clearly recognizable as the low purr of a drone, like the growl of a monster, reverberating through the trees, rousing dry leaves and dust from the forest floor.


    The drone slowly hovered low over the ground, stalking him through the trees like a salivating tiger closing in on its prey.


    It was hunting him. He didn¡¯t know why, but his instinct told him to hide. To be still.


    It uses motion sensors. If I stay still it won¡¯t know I¡¯m here.


    He lay perfectly still behind a large stump. It was directly to his left, maybe only two feet above the treeline. He didn¡¯t know why he was running from the drone, except for his instinct ordering him to.


    He trusted it.


    He waited, listening to the growl of the engine. It had stopped moving. The machine was hovering just to the left of him. Slowly, the sound moved closer to him until it was uncomfortably close.


    It¡¯s looking for me alright. I¡¯m just going to wait here until-


    KH-KH-KH-KH-KH-KH


    At the sound of the first gunshot he was


    Bullets tore apart the stump he hid behind, sending splinters of rotten wood in every direction. One bullet grazed his shoulder and another just missed his head. The Drone slowly orbited the stump and Bay frantically crawled around to the opposite side, still hiding, bullets still pelting the stump. Bay found a rock at his side. If the drone really did use motion sensors, he could distract it. He threw the rock as hard as he could at a tree twenty feet away. It cracked against it¡¯s thick bark and crashed into the ground with a loud thump. The drone revved its engines and spun a full circle on a dime. It recalibrated and reloaded in a whirr of motors and then pelted the tree with bullets as Bay crawled into the woods as fast as he could go and dove behind a tree growing on a dry creek-bed. Finally the drone stopped battering what was left of the poor tree and turned, hovering above the stump he¡¯d hidden behind, scanning for any signs of life for a full five minutes before beginning to glide away.


    Bay exhaled with relief. At first fear prevented him from moving at all until the noise faded at least somewhat, but finally he forced himself to look at the monster that had attacked him, flying away slowly. It looked like a giant mechanical insect, hovering in the distance, at least 10 feet long. It was a drone, with four metal wings extending from a metal body, painted charcoal grey with white markings on its wingtips. A geometric, head-like structure with cameras and antennae angled down, perpendicular with the ground, with sensors and wires spurting out of what would¡¯ve been a mouth, along with a long, vicious looking gun barrel. A long antennae protruding out of its abdomen looked like a stinger.


    What¡¯s that little miser shooting? I think it spent all its ammo on me.


    He sat up, gasped in pain and felt his shoulder. It wasn¡¯t bleeding much, the bullet only scratched and bruised his arm a little. He was extremely lucky.


    That¡¯s two times I¡¯ve almost died, and it¡¯s just day one.


    He got up and examined the stump, riddled in bullet holes.


    Looks like .223. Makes sense, lightweight, high velocity, high penetration rounds¡­ perfect for a little drone like that. I need to find some kind of gun to defend myself with. Whoever it is put me here doesn¡¯t like me. Why did they put me here if they¡¯re immediately gonna try to kill me?


    Bay knew he had no memory, but somehow felt a familiarity and trust with his own abilities and thoughts. He trusted himself, and despite the bittersweet feeling that trust came with, the feeling of being alone for many years, he was grateful he could at least trust his instincts, which had saved him twice already.


    He had already made up his mind: wherever he was, he would escape from it. Whatever was attacking him, he would survive and kill it.


    Most importantly, he would find his memory. He had to. He would regain his lost identity. Whatever it took.


    He took a step forward, and another step, then fell to his knees, squeezing his shoulder and wincing. He felt so weak and beat up already.


    He was so scared.


    It was overwhelming him. He was terrified.


    ...


    Bay wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.


    He pulled himself up, leaning on a tree, his fingers running over the grooves of the bark, his eyes drinking in their surroundings. One of his fingers suddenly touched something rough and sharp. He cursed under his breath, removing a splinter.


    His eyes widened and he got down on his knees. Something was carved in the tree.


    Carved into the bark was a symbol that looked like a square, a little larger than the palm of his hand. Bay looked closer, eyes rapidly studying and memorizing it. It was a basic square shape, marked with many intentional looking indentations and rectangular regions that jutted outward from the shape. It wasn¡¯t just crudely drawn, it was carefully calculated.


    Bay realized two things: one, there were people that had been here once, maybe years ago, maybe a week ago, but they were here, and two, they had left him little creepy notes carved in trees.


    He had no idea where he was, and he had no memory. He was being hunted, and he had incredible abilities that he somehow knew he hadn¡¯t possessed before. He felt an overwhelming sense of purpose, and an overwhelming sense of dread.


    Something had gone horribly wrong. He just had to survive.


    His head pulsed. It ached.


    Water. I need to drink.


    Rain still fell through the trees, but they seemed to be shielding him from most of it. He needed to find a clearing. Whatever he did, he couldn¡¯t go back to where he¡¯d been before. He¡¯d heard two more drones humming, flying around like nasty little wasps. He¡¯d evaded them so far. How long could he keep it up?


    Suddenly, he froze.


    What is that?


    There was running water nearby, that or wind¡­ no, it was too consistent to be wind. The wind seemed to come and go as it pleased.


    It had to be running water.

 TWO

    TWO


    Dr. Coal returned with a steaming mug of coffee and a familiar scowl that said, ¡°I¡¯m not happy, don¡¯t cross me.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your problem?¡± Lauren said, turning away from the pilot to face Coal. Her white lab coat was ruffled and her jet black ponytail was beginning its escape from it¡¯s hair tie.


    ¡°They only had decaf. What¡¯s your problem?¡±


    ¡°We thought we¡¯d found him in A4, and we were closing in on him when this little miser,¡± she said, gesturing at an indifferent looking drone pilot, ¡°Gave the command to open fire at him with one of the drones. The subject ran and hid behind a stump, diverted the drone¡¯s reflex system, and by the time we ordered him to cease fire and set up a tranq dart, we lost him in the woods.¡±


    Coal, halfway through a nonchalant sip of his coffee, spit it out and coughed, partly because of the taste of the coffee, and partly because Bay managed to escape a fully-armed scout drone opening fire on him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I fired him for you¡­ isn''t that incredible? Hah, you alright?¡±


    Coal wiped his mouth and cleared his throat.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it.¡± He lied, ¡°This coffee tastes like balls. Why don¡¯t you take a sip?¡± He growled, pouring it all over the scared looking Pilot¡¯s face, who gasped and swore, mumbling about an accident. ¡°Secretary! Go find us a drone pilot who doesn¡¯t accidentally, or intentionally, gun down our test subjects.¡±


    ¡°Jared, Extract all drones from Sector A4. We need to let him think he¡¯s escaped so he¡¯ll come out of the woods. He won¡¯t last long in there, its infested with mutants. We need to find him ASAP. Lauren, come with me.¡± Scientists and officials got busy with the new order as Coal and Lauren left the command center, headed to the observation room.


    ¡°Which sector was he headed towards when he ran off? And how on earth did he survive that drone strike?¡± Dr. Coal asked, dumping the rest of his coffee into a potted plant despite Dr. Pau¡¯s audible sigh of disapproval.


    ¡°How expensive was that coffee? That stuff isn''t easy to grow down here.¡±


    Coal looked a little guilty. ¡°More expensive than it was worth. The drone?¡±


    ¡°He must have noticed, or somehow knew, that the drone was equipped with motion sensors, and threw a rock to distract it while he ran off."


    "Well, before we had him erased, he probably was pretty adept at escaping police drones just like that..."


    "You don''t think he''s remembering again already?" Lauren''s eyes widened and she spoke barely above a whisper, looking around for potential observers.


    "That was a piloted drone, but it was semi-autonomous. He tricked its automatic reflexes based on just a fiber of a memory. A bullet grazed his shoulder but we were unable to find traces of blood past a few feet, he must''ve stopped the bleeding with one of his socks or something. The pilot realized it was a distraction but couldn¡¯t fight the drone¡¯s autonomous firing system until it was too late.. He was like a ghost, he just vanished.¡±


    Dr. Coal was torn between immensely proud and very irritated with Bay, but mostly he was worried for his safety. That pilot, like all drone pilots, worked for the government and was much more intelligent than he seemed. Usually, though, they weren¡¯t trained to hunt genetically modified super-soldiers. That wasn¡¯t a mistake, he¡¯d deliberately tried to assassinate Bay, he just messed up by relying on the dron''s AI to aim. Coal already knew about at least two government spies in the command center alone, and there were probably more. If they saw Bay as a threat to their program, they would do everything in their power to kill him.


    Coal caught himself strategizing ways to keep Bay safe.


    He was no longer trying to test Bay¡¯s abilities. Now he was trying to keep him alive.


    ¡°Lauren.¡± Coal stopped her as they walked.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± She looked up from her tablet.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to like this idea.¡±


    Lauren raised her eyebrows.


    ¡°Let¡¯s ¡­ find another use, for Subject 0023,¡± Dr. Coal said quietly.


    Lauren¡¯s face morphed from confusion, to a loosely contained surprise as she gestured behind Coal.


    It was Dr. Jared. In his eye was a sick kind of excitement.


    ¡°Pau, Coal?¡± Jared said smugly.


    Dr. Coal turned around with a forced smile.


    ¡°Yes, Dr. Jared?¡±


    ¡°You might want to check your messages. Control just released an order.¡±


    He turned back to Lauren. Her expression was conflicted and broken.


    She held out her tablet.


    ¡°Why? After all these years of work?¡±


    The command blazed on the glass tablet- a death penalty blazing in the dark hall like blood red fire. It was from headquarters.


    TERMINATE THE ROGUE.


    Coal¡¯s gaze hardened. The hourglass had been turned over.


    Jared walked away, and he turned back to Lauren.


    ¡°Are you really going through with this?"


    He paused for a moment.


    "Control doesn''t know about the Error... about memory return. You know it''s only a matter of time. S:0017 wasn''t the first to begin to remember her past..."The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Coal, what are you saying?" Her voice was tense with danger.


    He inhaled. His hands shook and he tightened them into fists.


    "Lauren... everything we''ve done. I can''t take it anymore. I feel like I''m dying."


    She nodded slowly.


    "What we''ve built... this isn''t an experiment. This is cruel. This is brutality. I''ve spent my life serving... them. Their empire. Their reign."


    "Coal, you can''t blame yourself. They took-"


    He shut his eyes, pain written across his face, and Lauren couldn''t find it in her to finish her sentence.


    "The experiment is a success. It''s not easy- but it''s possible. Life can exist on the surface. And we''ve build the weapons and the soldiers they need to claim it as theirs. But... there''s a flaw with their system. You can''t rewrite the past. You can''t erase everything. Some things... are burned into you." He spoke from memory.


    Lauren nodded slowly, hands involuntarily tightening into fists.


    "Those memories never leave. As soon as you can remember those things, everything comes flooding back in. We can''t hide from that anymore."


    Her expression began to change. It began to turn into acceptance. There was even a flicker of hope behind her eyes.


    "Lauren... we can beat them. We can turn their best soldiers against them. Their best soldier. S:0023 is our masterpiece, Lauren, I can feel it. Breaking out of his pod with his own monitor?! That''s unheard of. And now they can''t find him. What happens when he remembers who he is?"


    "He''ll destroy everything they''ve created... their whole system." she said the words with respect, as if they were about to explode.


    Lauren¡¯s eyes were of mingled emotion and uncertainty, but her trust in Dr. Coal shone through the brightest.


    ¡°If this is going to work, he¡¯s going to need a friend.¡±


    ¡­


    Bay crouched like a lion over a fresh kill on a small mossy rock outcropping, sculpting the ends of a long, straight sapling into sharp points. He knew what wood was, but somehow also knew it wasn¡¯t common¡­ at least wherever he was from.


    In his hands was a work of art.


    He had carved the branch on one side into a long, sharp edge in the same shape of the knife blade, adding two grooves ending in sharp teeth, angled in the in the side to give it a serrated shape. The other side was carved into a simple, brutal point. It looked like a short spear or harpoon- both sharp enough to penetrate skin and thick clothing, and sturdy enough to knock-out a enforcer in full battle armor.


    Enforcer?


    Suddenly he wasn¡¯t in the forest. He was running from soldiers clad in black armor and visored helmets.


    Blood.


    Fire.


    Running through dark cement passages, illuminated by flashlights, sparks and gunfire.


    Fear.


    Pain.


    Rage.


    He snapped back into reality again. For an instant, a shred of his memory had flickered through his eyes. Whenever he wasn¡¯t paying attention, not concentrating on what he was doing or thinking about, he remembered things.


    Scary things.


    He tried to take hold of the image, but it felt like he was rising out of a pool of water- the memory trickled off his skin and slipped through his grasp, absorbing back into the same cage that trapped his subconscious.


    He focused hard for 20 seconds, concentrating on what he¡¯d just seen, but it was too late. All of it was gone.


    Frustrated, he cursed and threw the stick as hard as he could. It cut through the humid air like an arrow and sunk into a clump of moss 20 feet away at a 45 degree angle, all the way to the handle.


    His frustration dimmed a little bit.


    That was satisfying.


    He jogged through the forest and grasped the handle of the weapon, embedded deep in the soil. He pulled hard with both hands until it erupted out of the moss.


    The stick in his palm no longer felt like a fallen branch. Now it was dangerous. He spent a second to clean the dirt off the tip, admiring it.


    It was perfect.


    About the length of a baseball bat, an inch and a half thick, both ends sharpened into points- wicked looking. He¡¯d wanted this thing to have the ability to really screw up someone¡¯s day.


    In his hands, the stick took on a life of its own. His arms flowed like water, automatically spinning the weapon with speed and power, turning the weapon on a dime, striking hard and fast and stopping it by resting it against points on his thigh or shoulder. It was like riding a bike for the first time in years- it started slow, then the muscle memory flooded back into his mind.


    He built a fire using the dry, brown, paper-like leaves that littered the forest floor and dry branches, something he felt oddly familiar doing, though with different materials, and he hardened and dried the ends of the short stick¡¯s soft wood over the flames until they became dark, tough and stiff. He may be a newcomer into this bizarre, alien world of trees and grass and insectoid drones, but he¡¯d been building trash fires in the slums since he was a kid, and he had a feeling he¡¯s been making weapons just as long, if not longer.


    Trash fires¡­ I must¡¯ve grown up in a city somewhere...


    He scowled and shrugged off the infuriating feeling of another vanished memory lurking below, like a shark skulking beneath the waves.


    He focused on the staff¡¯s comforting feeling in his hand- it felt like a coiled viper. It¡¯s power and weight re-energized him.


    Bay felt powerful, strong, like a loaded spring. Not only this, but he felt comfortable with the strength beneath his skin- he was used to it, comfortable even, scaling buildings, breaking down doors, fighting. But this familiarity with his own danger freaked him out. He didn¡¯t want to be dangerous.


    He was afraid of himself.


    A sound like a cannon rumbled in the distance.


    Thunder¡­ the distinctive sound that follows lighting, an explosion of static electricity in the stratosphere created by friction and static build-up in the clouds¡­ common in thunderstorms.


    They told me there would be storms¡­ Whoever it was that taught me about¡­ this place.


    Another lost memory.


    He knew things, felt things, that his conscious self was unaware of, and unable to pinpoint or describe. His conscious self, his personality, the awake and alive surface, was terrified. But his inner creature- memory and experience and whatever it was that hid beneath the skin, growled in its sleep. Its danger reassured him in at least one way- he could take care of himself.


    His trust in his subconscious mind¡¯s instinct was the only thing that separated him from death.


    There was a monster inside.


    ¡°What do I call you, you little monster?¡± He spoke out loud in the quiet flickering sounds of the forest. His voice was like that of an old friend to him. He¡¯d forgotten it¡¯s timbre.


    A murder of crows cawed in the distance.


    The monster whispered in the shadows of his mind and chest:


    My name is Danger.


    TWO MILES AWAY


    The ravens cackled in their trees and the crickets whispered to each other in the tall grass surrounding the clearing in the blue morning light. The air was still and brisk.


    The trees shuddered.


    Buried in the earth was a dark noise. With a boom and the sound of hydraulics, a clear, glass cylinder filled with semi-transparent, incandescent white liquid erupted out of the forest floor. It parted the loose dust in the clearing and glided upright, glowing faintly.


    ...


    The chamber emerged like a pillar of ice, eerie and out of place in the natural, twilight atmosphere of the dawn.


    ...


    Inside was the blurred figure of a sleeping girl with a halo of amber hair in the water, breathing with an oxygen mask.


    ...


    On the side of the pod were the letters S:0024.

 THREE

    THREE


    Ever awoke, like drifting from a dream


    into a waking nightmare.


    Her eyes burned at the corners and she knew not to open them.


    She was submerged in saltwater. It felt like a sensory deprivation tank... How did she know that? What¡¯s a sensory deprivation tank?


    Her mouth ached.  Her hands reached to touch her face. There was some kind of mask clamped tightly around her mouth, hissing every three seconds, providing her with oxygen. She rested a moment and allowed herself to breathe, waiting for her body to wake up.


    She felt the walls with her extended hands¡­ too cold and smooth to be anything but glass. She pounded at it three times as hard as she could, crying out in pain... felt as though she¡¯d badly bruised her wrist. The walls were iron. So thick- maybe bulletproof or something.


    Was it just her¡­ or did each hiss come slower and provide less oxygen?


    She counted. One¡­ two¡­ three¡­. Where is it?


    Nothing.


    I can¡¯t breathe...


    I can¡¯t breathe.


    I have to get out of here.


    Fear swelled inside her like lava.


    There has to be a way to escape.


    She felt a weight in her right wrist and felt some kind of heavy, rectangular, object, about the length of her thumb, shaped like a pyramid. She tugged at its casing and winced- it felt deeply embedded in her wrist, integrated with her body. The device was attached to wires and cables which restricted her motion. She felt the cables and tubes, and traced them, following their path to the roof of the enclosure. They felt firmly embedded in the ceiling.


    Her head felt faint. Running out of time.


    She tugged at them on the side attached to her monitor- they felt looser where they connected, as if they were meant to come apart. After a hard tug, a rectangular tab popped out of the device that all of the wires were attached to, and the device¡¯s pyramid-shaped convexity retracted inwards to make the device smaller.


    Immediately all oxygen stopped coming from her mask, which began sucking inward violently. She ripped off her mask in panic, frantically banging on the sides. Then, she noticed that all the water was being sucked up into the oxygen mask, very rapidly draining the whole enclosure. She opened her eyes, feeling them burn from the chemicals, yet confirming that there was now air at the top of the pod. She swam to the ceiling where she pressed her nose and mouth sideways, gasping for fresh air, which seemed to be entering the pod at the same rate the water left it from a few small vents. After around two minutes, the whole tank was drained, and she rested against side of the pod, shivering, naked and freezing cold, her eyesight slowly returning.


    She laughed shakily, and after a few shuddery breaths collapsed on the floor of the tube, vomiting. She wanted to go home. She hated this. The device embedded in her wrist sent a light pulse of electricity up and along her arm, making her gasp, more from surprise than from pain.


    The pyramid shape of the monitor had folded inwards to reveal a tiny rectangular screen, entirely black except for three words, which appeared one letter at a time, as if they were being typed.


    Find the switch.


    They¡¯d sent her a message. That must be how to get out of this thing. Light seemed refracted in the pod. It flowed like rushing water around her through the glass. The outside world was blurred and obscured. She was trapped in, but at least she was safe.


    This is scary.


    She examined the pod. Glass walls, the space inside about two and a half feet in diameter, a solid metal floor and metal roof, with one thin strip of metal seamlessly connected to the glass that ran along the back, connecting the floor and roof. She realized it was much taller than her, maybe 7 feet tall. How tall was she?


    I¡¯m short, but I¡¯m taller than my mother¡­


    Mother?


    She couldn¡¯t remember.


    Anything.


    All of it was gone.


    Her mind was blank, gone, hollow¡­ but traces of what had been erased remained on the edges of her awareness like smudges of pencil lead on an erased note- faint traces of letters.


    She¡¯d been erased.


    She began to panic again.


    ¡°I¡¯m scared¡­ what¡¯s happening? Where am I? Somebody hel-¡±


    Everything was fire.


    An excruciating blast of electricity devoured her arm like a rabid wolf. She couldn¡¯t see, she was screaming, and her body felt like it was shattering. After what seemed like an hour, it stopped.


    Her head spun, her voice was shredded and ragged. Her entire body felt weak, tingling and numb.


    She looked at the device in total shock.


    Find the switch.


    They were impatient.


    She looked at the roof of the enclosure and saw a large, yellow and black-striped lever at the top of the pod, right in the center of the tube.


    She jumped and couldn¡¯t reach it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡±


    It sent a second long blast, practically knocking her over from pain.


    This time she fought it. She screamed and gritted her teeth, fighting the blast, taking the punch.


    It subsided and she inhaled sharply.


    In rage, she tried to smash it against the floor. It bounced like rubber, flinging her entire arm upwards like someone had slapped it. It retaliated, shocking her again for twice as long.


    Obey.


    She sobbed and strained for the switch, slipping against the wet glass walls, this time just barely reaching it. Her fingers enclosed around it and she pulled with all her might. The lever gave in and clicked. She slipped and fell to the floor in a daze, hitting her head against the glass hard. There was a series of motors whirring in the roof. Suddenly a small portion of the wall began to sink into the ground, leaving an opening just large enough for her to walk out.  She stook shakily, undefeated, her mind not comprehending the images her eyes showed her. Her eyes ached.


    Ravens laughed raucously in the distance.


    She staggered out of the pod and collapsed in the dust outside.


    ¡­


    Commander Mave Price brushed the tiny crumbs of her salmon and lox bagel off her obnoxiously perfect suit with a gloved hand. Her hollow looking eyes surveyed the room, making scientists and lab technicians cower like mice before a cat.


    The observation room was mostly empty, idle, the montitor glowing blue on the main wall. The smokey grey sound of the air vents and life support systems were occasionally punctuated by a beep from a computer somewhere, begging for attention.


    She took a large bite. She wanted to finish her breakfast as quickly as possible. Coal was coming, and she¡¯d need to be able to talk when he came in without chewing. There would definitely be words between the two of them.


    Dr. Jared¡¯s emotionless face glowed blue in the dark as he fidgeted with his his tablet. He nervously glanced at the commander, then back at his tablet, a nervous twitch in his cheek.


    ¡°Good. She¡¯s finally on the move. Took her long enough.¡± He said, taking a sip from a water-bottle.


    ¡°We need to kill the boy. Perhaps the girl could do it.¡± Price mumbled through her bagel-stuffed cheeks. ¡±She¡¯s the only one useful to us. We aren¡¯t able to control the boy since he ripped his little tracker out. He¡¯s too much of a threat.¡±


    ¡°Not yet, and technically it¡¯s called a monitor. First we have to lead her to him.¡± Jared said, a weak grin splitting his blank countenance apart. ¡°Let her get to know him, build up respect for our orders. Then we make her kill him, or she gets tazed.¡±


    The commander picked fish out her teeth and dropped the half eaten bagel on Jared¡¯s desk. She swallowed and crushed the napkin into her palm, turning to face the screen.


    A blank map of a huge forest, split by streams and punctuated by rock outcroppings and open spaces.


    ¡°Your little lab rats must be ready to be used in two months. If they aren¡¯t, you¡¯ll be the one getting electrocuted. We¡¯re running out of time.¡± Her accent was bored- lazy and slurred, despite her upper-class status.


    Jared swallowed hard.


    ¡°I just follow orders,¡± he mumbled, distracting himself with a game on his tablet.


    The door exploded open, filling the charcoal room with tungsten light.


    Dr. Coal prowled into the room like a thunderstorm.


    ¡°Jared. What are you doing?¡±


    Coal¡¯s countenance was like a silent storm cloud, danger lurking beneath the surface. Jared looked up from underneath his perfect black hair and looked back down at his game, a bead of sweat dripping off his temple under the excruciating gaze of the commander.


    Coal quietly removed the tablet from his hand, examining it. He threw the transparent rectangle across the room, shattering it in a shower of sparks and shards of clear glass.


    ¡°No personal electronic devices in the control room.¡± He almost mumbled the words, as if he cared little.


    Jared looked both terrified and enraged, shooting the commander a glance, then looking Coal in the eye in a manner that said, watch it or we¡¯ll both get strangled.


    ¡°That cost 600 credits.¡± he coughed out to break the silence.


    ¡°Subject 0024 cost around 2,000,000 credits, and 6 months of training and preparation, plus an added 200,000 credits on life support while we waited for subject 0022 to die from infection.¡±


    Jared swallowed hard and glanced at the door.


    Coal''s eyes narrowed.


    "What did you do, Jared?"


    "Well, recently I joined a cult," He said dryly as he walked across the room, examining the remains of his tablet.


    Price''s hand crept towards her abandoned bagel.


    Coal tapped a command table, touching and tapping the surface with his fingertips. He scrolled down the page surveying Jared''s recent command history and froze where he stood.


    He turned, his eyes blazing. Jared stoot up to face him again. Price took a bite, examining her watch.


    ¡°You shocked her four times, in direct disobedience to my orders.¡± Coal inched closer with each word until Jared was pressed against the wall, feet crunching on the broken glass. He moved even closer until their foreheads touched, stepping on his toes. Jared¡¯s expression morphed from indifference to discomfort and acrid fear.


    Coal swallowed and closed his eyes.


    ¡°I told you explicitly to allow her to escape and to give her zero instructions. The poor girl just woke up. You hurt her again, I hurt you,¡± He growled, backing up slightly. He kicked him in the shin lightly and grabbed a remote, pulling up her stats on the main monitor.


    Jared mumbled something about the bathroom and walked swiftly out of the room, glancing back at the Commander, who raised an eyebrow at Coal.


    ¡°Hello, Price.¡± Coal spat.


    ¡°That¡¯s Commander Price, Dr. Coal.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, whatever, I don¡¯t have time for long titles, and your people need me so bad they wouldn¡¯t fire me if I flipped you off.¡±


    To prove his point, he flipped her off.


    The Commander seethed.


    Dr. Jonathan Coal was the only person that the Commander¡¯s earth shattering presence didn¡¯t seem to remotely intimidate, which made him the only man she feared. Coal was ingenious, but he was also a loose cannon. His tenacity was the only thing that could hold the project together in a disaster, and she hated him for it.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You get my order?¡± She said, sliding her tongue over her sharp canines like a reptile.


    ¡°Of course I did.¡±


    ¡°So? Is he dead?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve gotta find him first.¡±


    Coal pulled up a topographical map overlay on the screen. Tiny red triangles glided across the screen in several areas, and one blue circle slowly plodded across a sector marked A-20.


    Coal scanned the map.


    "Arent you going to direct her to the last place the Rogue was seen?"


    ¡°That¡¯s unnecessary. It should happen organically...¡± He muttered under his breath.


    Lauren wandered into the room with a tablet, rapidly typing commands and adjusting settings.


    She was by far the most brilliant scientist on the team, rivaling Dr. Coal, and was the only person Dr. Coal seemed to respect enough to behave himself for her sake.


    ¡°Well, she already hates us, and fears us, and I think she¡¯d comply if we bossed her around, but we¡¯d miss the opportunity to simply observe her natural behavior.¡± She mumbled, eyes still examining maps and statistics. "I saw that Jared shocked her... brutal."


    Price snickered.


    "Hello, Commander." Lauren took a seat next to Coal and raised her eyebrow at him.


    "What happened with Jared?" she said quietly.


    "Don''t worry about it." His pupils dilated, drinking in the light of the monitor.


    ¡°We might need to shock her a bit every now and then anyway to show her we¡¯re not just all bark and no bite,¡± she mumbled sadly through the last bite of her bagel.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Coal said.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Lauren looked up from her tablet to the map.


    ¡°You said he was last seen in A-24, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s headed towards him already. Extract drones from A-20, 21, 22 and 24. We don¡¯t need a wasp to find Bay when Ever can lead us right to him.¡±


    "Coal, did you hear me?" Price moaned.


    "Grownups are talking," Coal mumbled as he zoomed in on the blue dot on the map.


    He wondered how long she would survive.


    ¡­


    Bay drank from his hand, cupping water from the cold, clear stream. Icy droplets slithered across his face, trickling down his chin and neck as he drank. It was delicious, refreshing, unlike any water he¡¯d ever tasted. So clean.


    He splashed water on his face and cleaned off his hands and arms, sticky with sweat and smeared with blood, mud and dust.


    His shoulder tingled, and he knew the bullet-wound had already begun to heal. He was thankful, even though it felt no worse than a nasty bruise.


    The sky remained veiled in clouds and mist. Bay looked back into the stream, reaching his hand into the water to pick up a small stone.


    Something silver darted through the water and startled him, making him jump backwards into the grass.


    Holy crap.


    He looked through the water, eyes focusing intently through the distortion the ripples and flowing contours of the stream created for the thing that had scared him.


    There... some kind of freshwater wildife.


    It was big, at least three feet long, and a few inches thick. Its silvery green scales glimmered and it moved like a bolt of lightning. He grabbed his spear and searched for it in the stream, spear-tip aimed towards the water. Maybe he could catch it and eat it¡­ he was starting to get hungry.


    It was a long time before the little creature reared its ugly head again and Bay''s feet were freezing in the water. Finally he saw it zip by again, and he shoved his spear into the water as hard as he could, missing the fish and splashing himself.


    ¡°You stupid little cote. I can¡¯t believe I missed¡­ I was dead on,¡± he growled out loud.


    He dropped his spear into the water and wiped his face.


    ¡°Oh crap, I broke my spear.¡± The stick was bent sideways in the water, its tip embedded in the mud at the bottom. He pulled it out¡­ and suddenly it was straight again.


    He noticed that when his spear was in the water, it looked bent, but when it was out of the water, it was perfectly fine.


    ¡°Refraction. I¡¯m an idiot, I should¡¯ve known. I have to aim below whatever I see.¡±


    He moved upstream a ways and tried again. This time, there were dozens of the slender creatures in the water. He aimed directly below one of the large ones, and jabbed at it hard. Immediately he knew he¡¯d got it, his spear writhed and jolted in his hands as the creature wriggled.


    He pulled his spear out of the water, bringing the flopping creature with it, sending flecks of bloody water everywhere. It looked like a snake with gills and fins by its head.


    Some kind of eel?


    He pulled his knife out of his belt loop and set the weakly flopping eel on a flat rock, not sure what else to do. He grabbed it by the neck and placed his knife just below the gill. He clenched his gut and started cutting.


    It was thick and meaty, and felt like cutting through a roll of wet newspaper, until he reached the spine, which scraped against the knife blade as he severed its neck. It jolted and then was still. Blood seeped out, flowing over the rock.


    ¡°Ohh¡­ jeez that¡¯s disgusting.¡± Once he¡¯d hacked through the spine, he stopped and examined his dinner.


    It was actually pretty appetizing considering he¡¯d just speared it out of a creek- not too slimy, clean, firm, grey meat with thousands of tiny grey/green scales. He pulled his knife out of the carcass and built a fire. The fire took the longest to build, and most of the wood still seemed damp from the rain an hour or so before-hand. It smoked like crazy, burning his eyes, until finally he coaxed a stubborn flame out of the damp branches and built a fire good enough to cook over. He wasn¡¯t sure how to gut it, so first he pulled hard on the tail, pulling the skin off like a sock.


    Nasty.


    He made two rough cuts on the side of the animal, pulling out the small handful of the eel''s innards and got the bulk of the edible looking meat off of it in two slightly sketchy-looking filets, chucking the mangled spine of the eel back into the woods. He attempted to pick out the various minute bones within the eel and tossed them aside, he then proceeded to suspend the eel over the fire with two sticks. One turned out very charred and nasty looking since he dropped it in the fire. He ate it anyway. The other turned out just right, save a bit on the end not cooked all the way through. That bit he cut off and threw away, no despite his stomach tempting him. It was firm meat, with a good flavor.


    Finally he put out the fire and spread its ashes all over, dousing the wood in the stream and then throwing the charred branches as far as he could in every direction to cover his tracks.


    Not bad, Bay. You might not starve to death in here.


    An ear piercing scream cut through the woods, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. He jolted upright, listening intently as the whispers of the scream''s echo dispersed into the woods.


    He craned his neck, turning in a circle, searching for the source of the noise. The scream sounded human.


    Another sound cut through the woods like a bullet. It was so terrible it made his bones ache¡­ a raspy shriek ending in a guttural growl.


    It did not sound human. It sounded like Godzilla was eating a hyena.


    The human screamed again.


    Not too far away. Young¡­ probably female unless it¡¯s like a five-year old.


    Someone was in trouble.


    Maybe they know what''s happening.


    Or, maybe they''re screwed and I''m about to die.


    Torn about whether he should run towards or away from the sound, he chose running towards it. If he could find whoever made the mark in the tree... if he could get answers... it was worth possibly getting eaten by godzilla.


    Bay snatched his spear out of the water, gritted his teeth and bolted towards the sound.


    ¡­


    Ever ran.


    Hard.


    The forest around her felt as if it were blueshifted with the speed she ran. A blur of dark trees and black ground and pounding in her lungs and heart and feet and head. A stick scraped arm and leaves caressed her face.


    Her brand new white v-neck was already stained with dirt and blood from the slash marks on her back, which burned like habaneros with every movement she made. The small backpack over her shoulders that she¡¯d found on a tree felt dis-satisfyingly empty and light, and its contents bounced with each step.


    The forest ground reached up to try and sieze her ankles, their scratchy, damp hands scratching and tickling her calves, but her feet were too light and fast, dancing over the ground like a fawn being chased by a lynx.


    Trees stood like silent guards in her way and she dodged them as she scrambled by. She was used to navigating the forest somehow, but she didn¡¯t know how, since it also felt new to her. She¡¯d been in a place like this before, years ago when she was a child, but now that she was back it felt as is if her old home rejected her. She was a stranger to this world of rain and pain and monsters.


    Monster.


    It roared.


    30 feet behind her and gaining ground fast.


    She jumped off a fallen log and somersaulted on the ground. She pushed her self harder, clambering up a hill using rocks and branches and any handle she could reach. Behind her the demon darted up a tree and fell on the ground to her left. She stopped to breathe and threw a rock at the creature''s maw as hard as she could before running again.


    Breathe.


    Run.


    Don''t stop.


    She looked over her shoulder and realized the monster wasn''t behind her. It was running almost adjacent to her on her right.


    She pushed herself even harder.


    She¡¯d been climbing a tree to gain a visual of the size of the forest when the demon had launched its massive body out of a neighboring tree, slashing her back with its claws that felt sharper than steak knives. It crashed into a tree and shrieked. She had a head start, bolting away as fast as her feet could carry her, which was quite fast. Thankfully it hadn¡¯t bitten her- its long, boxy snout dripped with thick saliva and its teeth looked serrated, she¡¯d have gained a nasty infection if she didn¡¯t bleed out. The miser was at least 7 feet long, maybe longer, with thick leathery skin that was a marbley, green-grey color marked with white patterns on its back and tail- a long, powerful tail that swung like a battering ram as it ran. It was a reptile- cold blooded, meaning it conserved energy then released it in short bursts. Judging by its size, she¡¯d hoped she could¡¯ve outrun it by now. Humans were designed to run slowly for long distances. This was a sprint.


    It was gaining on her. She had to push as hard as she could.


    Panic welled in her throat and her body screamed in pain.


    Her throat was raw and her lungs and back begged for air. Her monitor felt heavy in her wrist.


    Water droplets from the above trees and from the dew on the ground trickled across her skin.


    Her heartbeat pounded like drums to the alien rhythm of the birds, insects and forest creatures chirping in the mist-veiled forest.


    Everything was not okay.


    Goooo go go go go.


    It¡¯s so dark in here, I¡¯ll trip¡­ rrghhh keep pushing, you might outlast it.


    She could hear it crashing through the forest behind just behind her.


    That horrible shriek rose out of its chest and ricocheted throughout the woods again.


    Fear chased her like a cackling demon, nipping at her heels as she bolted through the woods.


    These woods freaked her out. They felt comforting and familiar to her, yet also strangely distorted and warped, as though they were a corrupted image on a tablet.


    This world that was almost entirely identical to one she¡¯d seen before save a few unnerving details.


    It wanted to kill her.


    Breathe.


    Sense.


    Keep going.


    It¡¯s right on your tail.


    The trees were young and small, yet their bark was draped in damp black moss and lichen. The soil was black and heavy and littered with wet leaves, small green plants breaking through the ground. The sky was white and grey- eerily, it was totally veiled by clouds like a white computer screen.


    It¡¯s supposed to be blue.


    Where am I?


    Why was all of this landscape so familiar to her, yet simultaneously so alien? All her memories evaded her like trying to catch an elusive fly.


    I can''t go any more.


    THUD.


    She tripped and fell hard on her stomach. She tried to get up and slipped back on her stomach, trying to breathe, the wind knocked out of her. The monster roared 20 feet behind her as if in delight, catching up with her too quickly for her to escape. She desperately got up again, sprinting, her body screaming for oxygen.


    No, no no no no, this is not how I go out¡­


    ¡°HEY!¡±


    Like a wild animal, the most stupid, crazy, and maybe the most fantastic boy she¡¯d ever seen exploded out of the trees and into the side of the monster, throwing it wildly off course and sending them both tumbling. He was carrying some kind of wicked looking spear, and he slashed the monster¡¯s side with it, doing absolutely bubkis to the creature, but distracting it long enough for her to collapse and breathe.


    It whirled around, just missing him with its jaws, its blank white eyes practically flaming with rage as its tail slammed squarely in the boy¡¯s chest. He flung backwards 3 feet or so and slammed into a tree, screaming and cussing loudly as the monster turned back to its original target.


    It was closing in.


    ¡°Catch!¡± the boy choked.


    He tossed her his spear and time suddenly transformed into molasses.


    The heavy, dangerous looking stick made contact with the palm of her hand.


    The beast leapt into the air towards her like a fox after a rabbit, shrieking.


    Instinct took over. She felt something like her own monster inside her chest roaring, baring her own wicked fangs as she drove the stick as hard as she could directly into the animal¡¯s open mouth.


    ¡­


    Bay coughed up a victorious-tasting combination of dust, eel, saliva and blood as he staggered to his feet. He felt at least one cracked rib and every single body part ached or throbbed in some way.


    Totally worth it.


    Godzilla shrieked and retched, clawing at it''s own throat, reeling backwards, unable to extract the harpoon from its mouth.


    It gagged, choked and shrieked like a devil, shuddering and bashing its own head against a tree for about five minutes. The girl pushed herself backwards, wincing with each shove.


    Nice job, stranger. You ended that little cote.


    Well. Big cote.


    Bay jogged with a limp to the girl and helped her to her feet, the two staggering away.


    ¡°You okay?¡± She whispered.


    Why are you worried about me?


    ¡°Yea, cracked a rib. You?¡±


    The girl answered with a weak sob and her knees buckled. He caught her.


    She clung to him unsteadily, her calf bleeding from long, deep claw marks. It looked painful. She must¡¯ve gotten scratched when she stabbed it.


    ¡°That miser cut you bad, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said weakly. The warrior that killed Godzilla had been replaced by a scared little girl, and the wild animal that had saved her had turned into a scared little boy.


    ¡°That¡¯ll need to be cleaned and stitched up¡­ you found a backpack too?¡±


    ¡°Thank God, yeah.¡±


    Her voice was gentle despite the circumstances.


    The two let go of eachother quickly, Bay extending a hand to steady her whenever she swayed. They stood together in silence, watching the giant lizard die.


    It retched out a last gurgly shriek and rolled over on its side.


    Godzilla shuddered and was still before them.


    Its glowing white eyes suddenly faded to black, blood trickling from them.


    She winced and limped towards it, ripped out the blood-soaked harpoon, dripping with filthy saliva, and vomited.


    Bay looked away and gagged.


    She kneeled, breathing hard.


    ¡°You alright?¡±


    The girl nodded.


    He helped her up.


    They stood, looking at each other for a few seconds, breathing.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± the girl whispered.


    Bay shook his head.


    ¡°I think I have amnesia.¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°You too¡­ I was hoping you might remember¡­¡± He shook his head again. ¡°Hey¡­ good job.¡±


    The girl looked at the ground and flashed a grin.


    ¡°You too. Haha¡­ No idea how I did that,¡± she laughed quietly and winced.


    That cut has to really hurt.


    ¡°Remember your name?¡±


    Her eyes moved back up to his. They caught him off guard.


    She¡¯s pretty.


    ¡°Ever... Braid. I think. I don¡¯t remember my middle name. You?¡±


    ¡°Bay,¡± he said. It was the first time he¡¯d really thought about his name since he woke up.


    ¡°Just Bay?¡±


    He paused, frowning at the dirt. He felt a sting of a memory beneath the surface. It wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t remember it, that it was still there beneath¡­ instead he felt as though he never had one.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ Just Bay.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Just Bay.¡± Ever¡¯s eyes smiled at the corners. She seemed almost happy.


    She was tougher than he was and it bugged him¡­ he could still feel his hands shake.


    ¡°You too.¡±


    Bay smiled warily. He didn¡¯t trust her yet.


    Suddenly they realized how close they stood to one another and backed up a bit.


    Bay hesitated.


    ¡°Hey¡­ do you wanna¡­¡± She started.


    ¡°Stay together?¡± He looked up. He¡¯d been thinking the same thing. Somehow he had a feeling they were the only ones in this forest.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± she said, smiling.


    Bay coughed and ran his fingers through his hair, which already seemed to be growing back. Maybe it was another side effect to his regeneration powers.


    Strength in numbers. We can share supplies. I''ll have a better chance of survival.


    ¡°Yeah...¡±


    He looked her in the eye, locked in her piercing gaze.


    ¡°...stay together.¡±

 FOUR

    FOUR


    The image on the screen glitched and converted into static as the video feed from the dead Prowler¡¯s eye-camera cut out.


    "The subjects have killed a prowler¡­ yes, it''s their first day. I know, none of our subjects have done that before... The situation is still under control."


    Jared talked hastily on the phone while around him scientists darted around the room.


    These two were the best Jared had created so far. They were as he¡¯d designed- the prototypes by which all others after would be modeled.


    ¡°Switch to monitor 12¡­ did you see that? She stabbed that Prowler in the throat!¡± Pau said excitedly, practically bouncing up and down.


    ¡°And Bay¡­ charging it like that... it''s like he¡¯s completely fearless.¡± Dr. Coal said, scratching his scruffy chin with amusement written on his face and a twinkle in his eye.


    Other scientists in the room chattered excitedly. They had succeeded. Their efforts were not in vain. Moments like this made their haunting work somehow seem less pointless and cruel. Moments like this were the reason Dr. Coal had suggested to build a real experiment instead of a virtual simulation.


    Moments like this...


    "Coal, control has just issued a new order. They demand an active termination of S-0023."


    Coal¡¯s expression soured. The mood of the room shifted¡­ they remembered their command.


    He glanced at Pau.


    His eyes burned like embers. The room of scientists looked at Jared, and back at Coal. Only the head scientist could give the order to release weaponized vehicles. Suddenly fear creeped into Jared¡¯s eyes.


    Lauren looked at Coal, raising an eyebrow.


    He turned to face Jared.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Lauren clenched her fists, bracing for impact.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t send drones. That¡¯s too risky. We could accidentally shoot Ever.¡±


    Silently, four people in the room holstered their weapons undereneath their lab coats.


    Jared rolled his eyes. Lauren stared inquisitively at Dr. Coal, whose countenance was hardened.


    ¡°Well, what do we send?¡±


    He swallowed hard, resting his arms on the desk in front of him.


    He didn¡¯t want to do this.


    It was risky but it would delay an immediate death by a few hours, giving them enough time to escape and giving him and Lauren time to develop a solid plan.


    There was no other option.


    ¡°prepare to release 10 stalkers.¡±


    ¡­


    Bay listened to the woods alone. He kneeled on a moss-clad stone. Soil and blood colored his skin. His eyes were dark and the space beneath them shadowed and tired as though he¡¯d aged a year over the course of the day. The sky was pale and the woods colorless, save green that marked living things hiding among the trees. His skin was cold.


    He remembered stories about our sun- a brilliant light in the sky, and its warmth, how it sank below the surface to bring the coolness of the night.


    He had seen no sun in his time here. It made him question whether this world was what he thought it was. It was probably just veiled by a brooding storm about to strike the earth with its thunder.


    The sky, the dark trees. The rain and mist. Bacteria and insects. Weather, as bizarre a concept as that was to him. He understood space and the ecosystem in theory, and much about the above world as it had once been, but all of it were words on faded pages.


    He¡¯d never experienced any of this.


    His memory had become noticeably less colorless. It was as though a droplet of a drawing¡¯s drained ink bled back into the blank canvas of his mind. Barely there. But there.


    He jumped down from the rocks, stretching his legs again.


    Something about this place was like fierce, dangerous freedom.


    He couldn¡¯t be sure¡­ but he thought¡­


    No way. That¡¯s just too crazy.


    It''s the only way.


    His past was shrouded and vague, but one thing he just knew. He couldn¡¯t explain it. He could feel it. He¡¯d spent the majority of his life underground. Whether in a bunker or a building, a city or beneath some form of curtain, all he knew was that the sky was a stranger to him. Its vast emptiness felt like breaking out of chains.He felt his heartbeat.


    He felt a bead of rain or maybe sweat trace its way down his neck, coaxing goosebumps out of his skin. He felt his shirt cling to his back from the humidity.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Bay was alive.


    He felt the wind run her cold fingers through his brown hair, which seemed to have returned to its full length.


    Thanks, regenerating cells.


    He felt the dried blood caked on the surface of his skin, painted across his calf.


    He felt the ache in his muscles and bones.


    Footsteps aroused sleeping leaves on the detritus behind him.


    He breathed and rose slowly, stretching and extending his legs again.


    ¡°Tired, yeah?¡±


    Her voice spoke behind him. It was still so quiet, gentle almost, as though she was afraid of waking someone. Bay nodded, looking over his shoulder. Ever stood behind him, preoccupied with carving at a branch with her knife. He touched his own spitty-cool-sharp-spear-thingy.


    ¡°I think I should give this thing a name. What do you think?¡± He spun the harpoon and rested its tip on the ground. It¡¯s edge was stained a deep red.


    Ever pursed her lips and brushed gold fibers of her hair behind her ear. Her hair had grown longer too. Now it was nearly long enough to put into a ponytail. As it grew it became more apparent it had been cut roughly, almost hacked off with a pair of scissors. Somehow she still looked kind of cute.


    ¡°It¡¯s your ouch stick.¡±


    ¡°Ouch stick?¡± he said, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yeah, something ironic, making fun of how gnarly it is.¡±


    Bay snickered. ¡°Ouch stick¡­ huh. Okay, ouch stick it is.


    ¡°Why did you make that thing?¡±


    He shrugged.¡°To catch fish... protect myself from¡­ whatever hides in the woods.¡±


    Ever nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m making a bow and arrow. I found some paracord in my pack,¡± she said.


    Bay nodded approvingly. He rubbed the tender skin on his wrist where his monitor used to be, wondering what he did with his own rope.


    I should wrap some of my paracord around the shaft to give me a better handle.


    Paracord is the best.


    ¡°We need to find some kind of shelter," Ever said.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ think we can hike further before we camp?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°We can lean some long branches or saplings against a boulder and use some leaves and pine needles as thatch.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s thatch?¡± Bay asked, impressed.


    ¡°It¡¯s like grass that settlers used for a roof back in the day... I think. I don''t remember anymore.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s smart¡­ rain while you¡¯re trying to sleep would suck.¡±


    That was probably what Bay most hated most about this place, in contrast to Ever, who found it refreshing and nice. Rain ticked him off.


    Ever¡¯s legs swung as she skipped and her feet danced through the woods as Bay trumped and trudged beside her, dragging his feet. Both of them grinned as they brandished their homemade weapons and talked. The woods were peaceful and it had stopped raining.


    If it weren¡¯t so nightmarish this world would have been beautiful.


    ...


    Like a black needle, the structure erupted from deep within the distant woods, punctuating the rough and grizzly treeline. Support cables at the top and middle converted the tower into the outline of an equilateral triangle. A hypnotic, tiny, blood red LED blinked at the tower¡¯s peak every other second, as the soundscape and landscape of the woods beckoned Ever¡¯s soul deeper into the timbers. It felt like the tower was signaling her.


    It was some kind of communications antenna. Certainly man-made- the light at the top told her that much.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a radio-tower, yeah?¡± Bay called up from beneath her. Ever¡¯s senses landed back in reality, grounding her to the pine tree she was perched in five feet above Bay like a sparrow. She was a good climber and had decided to scale a tree to get a better view of the opening in the woods.


    When they¡¯d come upon the tower, Ever felt connected to it somehow. She didn¡¯t trust the feeling. Bay felt no connection to it, save intrigue.


    He knew it was something important. But Ever felt it calling her, like a lighthouse.


    ¡°How far away?¡± he called again.


    ¡°Hard to say¡­¡± she pursed her lips, tasted danger in the air.


    Something wasn¡¯t right here.


    The old, familiar shadow of night descended on the opening slowly.


    She wondered when she had been to this world before.


    She had shreds of memories... as a young child watching birds perch on the long fingers of branches. Walking alone in the woods for hours. Following her father to help gather firewood.


    Father.


    The memory was gone faster than it had appeared, and the more she tried to remember the more it faded. But she had seen her father''s face. She tried to hold on to something that she could focus on. His piercing hazel eyes... almost gold.


    ...


    Bay stood facing the dark, fog-flooded clearing. His eyes traced the treeline, before focusing on the tower... like an out of place totem in the woods. It was hauntingly breathtaking and totally alien to him. Ever swung down and landed in the dirt next to him, kneeling in the leaves.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting dark¡­ you said you remember that?¡± He asked, clearly nervous.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s called night. I don¡¯t remember much else about it except that it terrified me when I first came... here.¡±


    ¡°I knew it was called night. I feel like I¡¯ve studied this place before.¡±


    They shared a bitter glance of acknowledgment. Ever recognized the feeling of the shrouded memory. It was like losing your hand or arm, but still feeling it after it was gone. You swore you could feel it, but when you reached for it, it wasn¡¯t there.¡°But you know you¡¯ve been to a place like this before, yeah?¡± Bay said, adjusting his pack. She nodded slowly.Suddenly, a light touch of electricity rippled up her arm.


    She gasped slightly, touching her monitor.


    The black screen blinked and a message typed out across the screen.


    FOLLOW THE SIGNAL.


    ¡°Bay, you better take a look at this.¡±


    Bay turned from the eerie triangle to face Ever. He looked older than he was.


    ¡°They sent another message?¡±


    Ever extended her wrist outward as if she were presenting a gift to him in the palm of her hand.


    The black screen blinked with a shiver of static across her spine and the message disappeared.


    ¡°So, go to the tower?¡±


    ¡°I guess. Let¡¯s move, I don¡¯t want to get electrocuted again,¡± Ever said nervously, looking over her shoulder.


    Bay nodded and entered the clearing.


    They walked in silence.


    He touched his scar. It still ached slightly.


    She¡¯d tried to pull her monitor out when she¡¯d heard what he¡¯d done but it hurt too badly. They¡¯d decided to keep it in, in case their overseers messaged them again.


    These people that put them there.


    That watched them and sent them messages and drones.


    Bay wanted to kill them.


    She touched the steel weight in her palm. It felt like the lock to a set of invisible chains. Uncomfortable and invasive in her skin.Bay¡¯s intelligent eyes had studied the monitor several times throughout their hike with distrust.


    Ever¡¯s eyes met his. In his eyes she could see a storm coming. She felt as though she¡¯d done something wrong.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    Bay looked towards the tower again. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    He tried a smile.


    ¡°Better keep going or we¡¯ll get eaten by Godzilla.¡±


    Ever looked towards the tower and prayed she wasn¡¯t being led into the jaws of a trap.

 FIVE

    FIVE


    The boy in the red shirt sprinted through a cement hallway, his feet splashing through the inch or so of cold water that trickled through the flood canal. His rebreather mask converted every desperate inhale and exhale into the harsh, metallic voice of something half-human. The huge gash on his back bled and the frayed, torn wires and cables protruding out of the wound flickered with sparks as blood dripped off off their copper and steel tips into the water.


    He ran faster and deeper into the gaping mouth of the void, dodging hanging cables. Every step he took echoed deeper into infinity. The flood canal trapped each rippling sound like a fiber optic cable and sent lasers of it into the midnight-colored void. The darkness of the vent was only punctuated by beams of grey light like wooden rafters, cutting through the humid shadows of the canal as he dodged hanging power cables that dangled like jungle vines, covered in dark green moss. The algae and scum in the water made the water thick and it smelled stagnant, icy and cold against his skin.


    His breathing was desperate and pained. Behind him, a vehicle¡¯s engine revved and its terrifying headlights slashed through the comforting darkness, ripping his only curtain of safety away and revealing his small form, his tired legs running slowly, yet clearly as quickly as they could take him.


    His limping feet dragged faster through the watery cave and his panicked breathing became louder.


    The vehicle approached faster.


    BOOM, BOOM.


    Two deep, heavy gunshots and flashes of light splashed into the cave and the red tails of darts suddenly appeared in his back, imbedded in the boy¡¯s flesh.


    He fell on his hands and knees with a quiet gasp. He crawled on his stomach, pulling himself with his arms¡­ He felt so tired... it was over. He submitted as all faded to black.


    ¡­


    He lay still on the cement floor, his rebreather half submerged in slowly running water as dark colored liquid spread across the boy¡¯s clothing.


    ...


    The vehicle stopped behind him and two masked soldiers got out and approached their kill.


    ¡­


    ¡°We found number four,¡± a soft voice crackled in the darkness through a visored mask, deep and distorted by static.


    ¡­


    Dr. Coal stood alone in the pod room, turning a shard of glass in his hand as he examined the ruined machine that had once held S-0023. It was like a fragment of an eggshell. Proof of the birth of a monster. A monster he created. A monster that now he had to kill.


    He didn''t want to kill Bay.


    He wasn¡¯t going to kill Bay.


    Nobody would have to die again.


    Not anymore.


    The experiment was almost over.


    It was time.


    He left the pod room and began walking through the prep-hall, past chambers filled with spare pods, holographic maps, the monitor room, and a laboratory for each individual subject.


    He knew he¡¯d done well with Bay when he¡¯d watched him rip out his monitor.


    It was something only a true rebel could do, or even know to do.


    Something that pinned him as a threat to the government, a sufficient reason to assassinate him. After the drone pilot¡¯s failed attempt, and Bay began to recover from his injuries, it became clear they would have to publicly kill him. Even if Ever was killed in the process.


    A drone would have certainly gotten the job done.


    But everyone knew that certainty is not Dr. Coal¡¯s style, which was a sufficient excuse to not kill him immediately.


    A drone is a clunky piece of hardware. He¡¯d alway hated them, seen them as primitive, as inferior weapons. He¡¯d always been drawn to biomods. Their organic nature, their flowing intelligence. It was a combination of the order and control provided by a machine and a creature¡¯s brute physical power, and organic intelligence, enhanced with mechanical organs, tracking devices, and eye-cams- it was the perfect weapon. They could even reproduce, although their offspring were not equipped with the hardware that came with a biomod through surgery.


    Jared knew that biomods could be used to attack singular threats in a group of people and leave the others alone. They were more vicious and brutal, however, and killed their targets more slowly.


    The ¡°slow¡± part was what Dr. Coal pinned his hopes on.


    He walked briskly down the hall.


    It was nightfall and the lab technicians and support scientists had all gone to their homes, setting the drones to sentry mode and placing guards on night duty while they went to sleep.


    Dr. Coal remembered the years he¡¯d spent here, the restless nights he couldn''t sleep, mind and eyes haunted by his own experiment, the years they had all spent watching, waiting, as he grew older and his subjects remained young, asleep in their hibernation pods waiting for their time.


    Each experiment rarely lasted more than a day, but when they did, they could go on for months. Preparation for each test took several months of work, sometimes a year or more, especially when they attempted to genetically modify their subjects.


    The prep was the work. The time of anticipation.


    The experiments themselves, the observation period, were the most exhilarating and terrifying experience any of them had ever beheld. It was surreal.


    The experiments¡¯ nights? Those were the times of waiting. For the experiment to conclude, with death or life. For resolution.


    He walked towards the armory. He could see through the glass door, its walls studded with hundreds of rifles, handguns, and other instruments of war, like jewelry and a scientist¡¯s baseball-cap.


    My coworkers are idiots.


    Coal set his eyes on a TAR-C22 Bullpup rifle equipped with a motion tracker and an infrared sight.


    Bay¡¯s gonna like that one. He always chose it in training.


    I wonder when they¡¯ll come across their first weapon. They¡¯re going to need some when they run into stalkers.


    After much negotiation Jared had finally conceded releasing the stalkers when they got close to a stalker deployment zone. It made logical sense, releasing the little demons at point blank range, and it gave them another night to prepare.


    Sometimes Coal wondered if he was really buying Bay time, or if he was just digging his grave.


    The scientist strided towards the weapons room purposefully. He knew there was a camera just behind him, watching his every move. He¡¯d spent the morning hacking into it so that the camera only displayed a still frame, showing no movement. Now he could go about his mission quietly and unnoticed.


    He approached the door¡¯s keypad.


    It required a master key to enter so that scientists couldn¡¯t take home assault rifles and sell them to the enemy.


    No matter.


    Coal built this room. He¡¯d designed this entire facility. He didn¡¯t need a keycard to enter, it would record his entering and could be used against him if he was discovered.


    He pulled a multitool out of his pocket and pried off the steel plate. He went straight into the keypad, unplugging and rewiring ribbon cables and wires, hotwiring the door in just under 30 seconds. It was a simple matter of reversing the solenoid¡¯s polarity so it pulled the lock bar in instead of out.


    Click.


    Easy money.


    He reattached the plate and reset the security lock and alarm, leaving the door open. He began searching the room for his preferred weapon and one for Lauren. He needed a pistol and a side holster so he could conceal it with his lab coat. He¡¯d already persuaded two other scientists to help him as well, with a little convincing.


    He selected two assault rifles with suppressors and a pair of tasers for the other two scientists.


    They were going to end it all.


    His trap was about to blow up in the commander¡¯s face.


    As if his superiors didn¡¯t hate him enough already.


    Now it was finally time.


    ¡­


    Ever winced as Bay gently cleaned the four, jagged slashes in her calf resting against a mossy tree and gritting her teeth in pain.


    This was the third time this evening he¡¯d cleaned it, and while the wound had healed quickly, the redness and sharp pain of the cuts told him the wound was infected.


    Her back had eventually healed all the way, albeit slowly compared to Bay, yet her calf still bled, the skin around it puffy and red.


    He¡¯d cleaned her bandage, a strip of cloth torn off the edge of one of his sleeves, two times, and he was still unable to get the blood out of it. He tore a strip off his other sleeve and put the first bandage in his backpack for later, wrapping her calf as tightly as possible after cleaning the blood and dirt out of it again.


    ¡°It¡¯s not too bad, yeah?¡± Ever asked, fear tinting her voice.


    ¡°No. No, it¡¯s not too bad¡­ it should heal up pretty soon. You seem to have the same regeneration abilities as me.¡±


    ¡°Not as good as you... You said you feel totally healed? You got hit by a tail as thick as a 2x4 and got thrown backwards at least a meter, and you didn¡¯t even break a rib?¡±


    ¡°Cracked a rib maybe, but its healing fast, yeah.¡±


    Ever hugged her knees and looked up into the canopy of leaves above them.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die out here.¡±


    ¡°Hey, who said anything about dying?¡± Bay said, putting a hand on her knee.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to escape. We¡¯ll remember everything. We¡¯re going to find our memories. We have to.¡±


    Ever shivered.


    ¡°We have to get out of here¡­ or we¡¯ll die, won¡¯t we?¡± Her soft, gentle voice cut the tension in the air like a knife.


    Bay turned his head away, thinking. She was right.


    Both of them were going to die if they couldn¡¯t find a way to escape.


    ...


    ¡°Want to stop here for the night?¡± He needed to change the subject.


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll build a fire.¡± She said, rising and gasping under her breath.


    ¡°No, you rest. You can build the fire tomorrow.¡±


    She laughed, brushing a strand of her hair aside, glowing like gold in the light from the campfire.


    ¡°Deal.¡±


    Bay stood up slowly, yawning and stretching dramatically.


    ¡°I¡¯m starvinggg,¡± Ever groaned, leaning over to gather sticks, lazily and clumsily.


    ¡°Rrrghhh... Me too.¡± Bay finished his yawn, looking preoccupied.


    ¡°Once I¡¯m done making the fire we can look for frogs.¡±


    ¡°Frogs!?¡± She said in disbelief and disgust.


    ¡°Yeah, frogs. They¡¯re slow enough to catch and their legs look pretty appetizing. I ate an eel right before I found you.¡±


    ¡°An eel??! Okay, that¡¯s disgusting.¡±


    Bay grinned as he sparked his lighter.


    ¡°Yeah, gutting it was pretty easy once I cut it¡¯s head off¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Ever kicked him in the shins.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯ll put the fire out!¡± He laughed, running his fingers through his dark hair, enjoying its length after a day of being bald.


    The kindling caught fire, glowing orange in the navy blue night air.


    ¡°You¡¯re a dork. I ain¡¯t eating no frogs,¡± she said, her arms crossed. He looked up at her and stuck his tongue out like a little kid.


    She stuck her tongue out back at him.


    The fire grew from a weak spark to a stronger flame, ravenously devouring the kindling and beginning to gnaw on the branches.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Bay got up and pulled a large frilled leaf out of the ground, turning it upside down like a sheet of paper. He sat down next to Ever.


    He began absentmindedly cutting the design he¡¯d seen cut into the bark of the tree onto the leaves.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Ever leaned over his shoulder, tucking a bit of her hair behind her ear.


    ¡°I saw this symbol carved into a tree when I broke out of my tube.¡±


    Her hazel eyes scanned the leaf, drinking in the details and processing them.


    Her lips moved when she was thinking about something, as though she was whispering secrets to the crickets.


    ¡°It looks like a map.¡±


    He stared at the image blankly.


    How had this slipped past him?


    ¡°You¡¯re right¡­ it looks exactly like a map¡­ but why doesn¡¯t it extend past this line?¡±


    ¡°There must be some kind of border¡­ This is really how it looked on the tree?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I have a photographic memory.¡±


    And yet I still can¡¯t remember anything about my past. Its infuriating.


    ¡°Oh cool, my mother had a photographic memory.¡±


    He froze and dropped his knife.


    It hit him like a punch in the gut.


    ¡°You remember your mom? Did you just remember or have you always? Is your memory coming back?¡±


    Ever¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°W-what did I just say?¡±


    ¡°You remembered something about your mother. Her photographic memory. Can you remember anything else? Is your memory coming back?¡±


    The sudden outburst caught her off guard.


    He seemed so hopeful, almost desperate¡­ she wanted to make him happy, to give him hope, but she couldn¡¯t. She froze.


    ¡°No¡­ no, I can¡¯t remember anymore. It''s all fading away¡­ I¡¯m sorry- it was just a blur.¡±


    Bay relaxed, disappointed.


    I must get my memory back. I have to find out who I am.


    He stoked the flames and Ever examined the leaf Bay had drawn on.


    ¡°Why do you want your memories back so much? I mean I want my memories back too¡­¡±


    His eyebrows furrowed as he stoked the flames.


    ¡°I feel empty without my memories¡­ I feel like half of myself¡­ Like I¡¯ve been robbed of my identity.¡± Bay said slowly, measuring his words.


    Ever looked at him with sympathy but without understanding.


    ¡°Why do you think¡­ I mean. Your memories are a part of you. But you are still you without-¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about something else.¡± Bay said.


    Ever looked down.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know who we are. We don¡¯t know where we are. So¡­ What do we know¡­ about this place," she turned the leaf over in her hands.


    Bay lifted his head and looked into her eyes. She averted her gaze.


    ¡°Somebody put us here.¡± She said.


    He nodded.


    ¡°Someone rich and smart.¡±


    The crickets and wind and fire all crackled in the night. The air was cold. Droplets of water collected on the leaves fell from the trees and hissed as they made contact with the stones next to the fire.


    ¡°Maybe lots of someones¡­ A powerful organization. The government or something.¡±


    ¡°And animals and robots are trying to kill us¡­ and we haven¡¯t seen any other people.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ and we¡¯ve found this handmade map, but we don¡¯t know what it means, or shows, except that there have been others here before us.¡±


    He stared into the flames, and Ever stared into his eyes.


    ¡°Bay?¡± her voice barely rose over the sound of the fire.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± He continued to brood and think.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been put here for a reason.¡±


    Bay nodded, bitterness written on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never been anywhere for a reason¡­ I still feel lost.¡±


    ¡­


    The boy in the red shirt sank beneath the water of the flood canal, falling into cold darkness, his senses dissolving under the silence. He drowned in the ocean of a coma-like paralysis.


    His mind drifted in and out of awareness, half awake.


    ¡­


    He saw a large wooden and steel room. He felt his hands tied behind his back. He couldn¡¯t move, but he could see and hear. The box was large and open, with wires and cables draping from the ceiling, swinging back and forth.


    ...


    The ground shook and bumped rhythmically every few seconds. He knew he was in a moving object, but the room had no windows and he couldn¡¯t see outside. There was a dim fluorescent light on the other end of the room.


    ...


    Attached to the ceiling, on the other end of the room, hanging like sleeping bats, were twenty or thirty dimly lit glass tubes filled with water. Each tube contained the still, motionless form of an upside down child.


    ¡­


    Attached to the children¡¯s wrist were tiny black boxes with cables and wires attached to them, running up to the ceiling. The monitors blinked with a small red light every other second in unison.


    Some of the tubes contained small, cat-sized reptilian looking creatures.


    ¡­


    His vision faded and his mind sank deeper into the ocean of darkness.


    ¡­


    Bay awoke to hazel eyes and a mess of gold hair awake across from him, on the other side of the shelter. He jumped, then relaxed when he remembered who she was.


    He sat up beneath the lean-to he¡¯d constructed with her help the night before. It had started raining as they¡¯d built it, so they only built one.


    ¡°Hi.¡±


    Ever rubbed her eyes. ¡°Hey, Bay.¡±


    ¡°How long have you been awake?¡±


    Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth moved as she thought quietly for a minute, counting with her fingers.


    ¡°I think I saw 23 birds yesterday.¡±


    Bay raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t keeping track.¡± he replied, lying down on his back gingerly, cold and wet from dew.


    Her eyes shut and she buried her face in her arms.


    Her eyes popped open and pierced into his.


    ¡°I¡¯m cold.¡± She groaned, her voice muffled.


    ¡°I think the first layer of my skin is frozen.¡± Bay said nonchalantly.


    She nodded, her eyebrows arching up, making a sad face.


    ¡°One of us has to build a fire and make breakfast out of something.¡± Ever looked pleading.


    Bay clamped his eyes shut, shaking his head.


    ¡°Pleaaase?¡±


    ¡°Nuh-uh. We had a deal.¡±


    Ever stretched and yawned, favoring her right leg.


    ¡°Hey, how¡¯s your battle wound?¡±


    She extended her leg and winced. He carefully unraveled the bandages and examined it. The bleeding had stopped and the swelling had gone down slightly, but the cuts were clearly infected and he had nothing to treat the infection.


    ¡°It hurts.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s looking better¡­¡± He hesitated.


    ¡°But it¡¯s infected?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Here- take some more antibiotics.¡±


    Bay roared and bravely crawled out of the shelter into the cold wet grass outside, battling ferociously against the urge to fall asleep again and climbing into the grass.


    Dew. The condensation of water on blades of grass during the night, caused by falling temperature.


    I wonder what else I¡¯ll discover I know today.


    Ever crawled out of the shelter and rose behind him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make the fire¡­ you wanna go catch some fish? There was a stream nearby.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sounds good.¡± Bay tromped through the woods alone.


    I like that girl.


    ...


    Lauren, Jared, and two other scientists followed Dr. Coal down the hallway.


    ¡°They¡¯re camped just outside stalker territory. We should just release the stalkers now.¡±


    ¡°Bay¡¯s strong, and he¡¯s had a good period of time to get to know Ever. That is, if he¡¯s still with her. If we release the stalkers now, She will help Bay fight them off, and I¡¯m not feeling like flushing 2,000 dollars per stalker down the tubes¡± Lauren said, punching in the PIN for the Observation room. The Commander was observing as well today, and two Enforcers stood beside her in full body armor. The door retracted into the ceiling and the walls, and the scientists entered the fray of their secret work, scuttling like ants in the dark around their fat queen.


    ¡°Besides, they would hear them coming. You can hear their shrieks from a mile away. It would be more efficient if we... Commander Price.¡± She stood at attention and she glanced at Coal, preoccupied with statistics on his tablet.


    ¡°Hm? Oh, hey Price. How are you this morning?¡±


    His grey-flecked stubble looked almost tidy and his usually unruly black hair, tinged with white strands was combed neatly into place. He even smiled.


    ¡°What¡¯s your problem?¡±


    ¡°In the grand scheme of things? You, Madam Commander. However usually that question is more of an inquiry on one¡¯s emotional state. Do I look ticked off to you, Lauren?¡±


    ¡°Um, no, Dr. Coal. You seem unusually happy.¡±


    A secretary handed the Commander a glass of wine with a salute, scampering away.


    ¡°Good, because I¡¯m stoked. A guard just alerted me that one of our scout drones caught footage of Bay and Ever talking together over a fire. The two are working together and are benefiting from each other¡¯s company. Ever hasn¡¯t died from that scratch, and her systems are stabilizing, which means Bay is taking care of her, feeding her.¡±


    Lauren nodded.


    ¡°Her regeneration abilities are weaker than Bay¡¯s, and she needs a lot of energy to use them, so she wouldn¡¯t be able to heal until she were fed¡­ That makes sense. They must be working together.¡±


    ¡°In general, my subjects are doing well. No thanks to your pilots trying to assassinate them.¡±


    ¡°You do realize that Subject 0023 is going to die today, don¡¯t you, Dr. Coal?¡± Price took a sip of wine.


    Coal was still for a moment. He turned to her again.


    There was an edge in Dr. Coal¡¯s smiling eyes as he nodded.


    Subject 0023 will die. In his place will stand someone stronger.


    ...


    Ever¡¯s subconscious awoke.


    We¡¯re getting close to the tower¡­ the signal is getting stronger.


    She shivered.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Bay said, returning with three fish stuck on the end of a stick, spinning his bloody, freshly sharpened harpoon in his other hand.


    That thing is wicked.


    ¡°Nothing¡­ I¡¯m just cold.¡±


    ¡°We still planning on heading to the tower?¡±


    ¡°Yea. Any chance at finding other people we should take.¡±


    The two sat down and roasted the trout over the fire.


    ¡°I cleaned them for you on the riverbank¡­ they¡¯re good, yeah?¡±


    She nodded enthusiastically. ¡°I¡¯ve never eaten something this fresh before. It''s so delicious, even without seasoning.¡±


    Bay nodded. He splashed water on the fire and rose. Ever gasped and touched her leg. ¡°What happened? Your leg okay?¡± He ran over and kneeled, examining her leg.


    The wound was healing.


    ¡°Ahh¡­. it burns, It feels all tingly¡­¡±


    ¡°Feels like static electricity, yeah?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s what it felt like when my monitor-cut healed. You do have regeneration abilities like me. Just maybe slower working. I wonder if you just needed food.¡±


    ¡°It feels... better now¡­ much better. Let''s go. We need to get going¡­ I bet we can make it to the tower by tonight if we hurry.¡±


    Bay kneeled in the mud, eyes fixated on the ground.


    He had an intense expression on his face.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t gonna die out here, Ever braid. We¡¯re going to escape.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°Its so huge!¡± She said, admiring the weapon she¡¯d pulled from the wooden crate in the ground.


    ¡°Can I see? Where the heck did you find this?!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, here.¡± She handed it to him while she rummaged through the rest of the box, filled with ammo and mags as well as a small med-kit.


    ¡°I tripped on it while you were looking up ahead. It was buried halfway in the ground. I wonder how many more boxes like this are in here,¡± she said, packing their backpacks with ammo and two spare holo-sights.


    Bay wielded the rifle with experienced hands, pulling the spare magazine from its hiding place in the stock and loading it, checking the infrared sight and the motion tracker.


    Looks like a bullpup. Fully automatic¡­ not a standard issue for sure.


    ¡°It¡¯s got a laser and infrared sensors¡­ this miser is a dustkicker for sure. Looks like a 223. Cal¡­ same round the drone carried. I want this one.¡±


    ¡°You can have it, look at these handguns¡­ they¡¯re just my size. Look they¡¯ve got suppressors and fiber-optic sights. I can¡¯t tell what make¡­¡±


    ¡°You know your way around a weapon!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, my... someone taught me how to shoot when I was young. Hack, its like these memories are just out of reach¡­¡±


    Bay¡¯s eyes glinted. He took aim at a mushroom and pulled the trigger.


    Click. Nothing in the mag.


    I wanna use this weapon on whoever put us in here. And anything that tries to hurt us again.


    ¡°What is happening?¡± He suddenly barked in anger and confusion.


    ¡°Hm?¡± Ever took aim at a tree and fired with one of the pistols, shocked at how powerful it was yet how silent. The silencer made the weapon no louder than a little sneeze.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think this is weird? That we wake up in glass tubes with no idea who we are in the woods, our memories erased, with machines embedded in our wrists? Being attacked by drones and giant lizard creatures? With knowledge and training on how to operate guns?¡±


    His expression darkened as she turned to him, looking at her gun with an innocence and naivety that didn¡¯t match her dead-eye shot.


    ¡°Look at what you just did. You got a bullseye on a tree 15 feet away with a gun you just picked up and no memories! How do you know how to do that? Why does this place seem so weird to me and familiar to you? Why can¡¯t I remember who I am?!¡±


    Ever¡¯s expression looked afraid and almost hurt as he shouted at her.


    ¡°Bay, I don¡¯t know! I don¡¯t have answers, I¡¯m out here with you. Neither of us know what¡¯s going on. We have to stick together¡­ work together to figure out¡­what is it?¡±


    Bay¡¯s eyes were shut which meant he was listening closely to something, head facing down, turning slowly.


    ¡°You hear that?¡± He sounded angry.


    He looked into the forest and listened for the sound.


    A growl that reverberated through the trees.


    Like a monster.


    He felt his instinct extend its claws.


    ¡°Get down. Run.¡± He slung the rifle and backpack over his shoulder, taking her hand and sprinting west.


    ¡°What? What is it?¡±


    ¡°Shh¡­ I don¡¯t know if it has audio sensors. Come on!!¡±


    They darted ten yards and froze, crouching behind two big trees. Ever¡¯s eyes were wild and terrified. He mouthed the word, trying to make her understand.


    Drones.


    Her pupils dilated and she turned to look around the tree for a moment, before pulling back in and lying still.


    Click-click.


    Bay loaded his rifle with a full mag and tilted his head, looking around the corner.


    Ever shook her head violently.


    It¡¯s right there. Too close.


    They breathed in the silence.


    The drone¡¯s jet engines hissed and Ever could feel her hair blowing from it¡¯s power.


    Every hair on Bay¡¯s body stood on end as a shot of adrenaline surged into his bloodstream, his heart pounding like war drums.


    In horror, they watched as the drone hovered directly next to Ever, across from Bay, facing away from them.


    Bay lifted his hand with 3 fingers up, gesturing to move away with his rifle.


    3.


    2.


    1.


    Ever tucked and rolled behind the tree and he opened fire. The weapon punched every shot out fast and quiet with incredible force, each blast like the strike of a viper, in such quick succession and with such blinding light it felt like one continuous explosion.


    The drone rotated to face them in an instant as it¡¯s left engine exploded, throwing it in a brutal arc into the ground. The heat from the explosion scorched the hair on his skin.


    The drone spun in the ground with a whirr of motors, charred and broken but not destroyed, spraying its own bullets in every direction, like a fly without one of its wings, spinning in circles on the ground. It flipped upright again, spitting fire at Bay who took cover behind a tree. Ever appeared like a ghost from behind the tree across from him, opening fire with her pistols. The drone spiraled towards her, Giving Bay a clear shot at its main engine.


    Sleep tight, ya little cote.


    The drone was down after a single shot in a huge blossom of red fire, flipping over onto its side. It smoldered, lying still in the dust, a red light blinking weakly from inside it¡¯s charred exoskeleton.


    ¡°Bay, do you see that?¡±


    Ever moved closer to the drone, pistols smoking, her eyes blazing. She looked just as terrifying as she was terrified.


    ¡°Hey, stay back!¡± Bay stood still, eyes fixed on the drone in the dust, heart rate so high he could feel it in his neck and chest.


    ¡°Bay, look at it¡¯s wingtip.¡±


    Bay kept his weapon trained on the charred corpse or the drone, eyes locking on the end of one of the drone¡¯s geometric, heavy steel wings, charred from the explosion.


    Painted in white on the edge of the wing was the same symbol Bay had seen carved into the tree, in far more detail. The map was sideways compared to the one on the tree, marked into a grid of squares by thin white lines marked with letters and numbers. Thin squiggled lines stretched out as they grew, morphing into shapes and blobs- a topographical map. A V- shaped arrow in the center showed north.


    Written beneath the map were words.


    ¡°I can¡¯t read it...¡±


    Bay stood still, reading the text.


    He suddenly believed he knew where he was.