Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13: RUNNING


Samuel's feet ached, his eyes and throat burned with the needles in the cold of the night air. Being a runner on track, he managed to make some distance between him and his house. The voice, however, still alluded him. Crossing gingerly the street before him, his breath labored and his sights set on one place, he pulled out an energy bar from the bag upon his back and bit into the foul tasting, artificial food made to help him go further, faster. His bundled fist raked against the front door.
“Kat?”
The answer was only the “woosh” of the cool night wind.
“Katara? Hey, I'm sorry to bother you but I need to talk.” He knocked again.
The only answer was the mocking silence.
“Kat?”
He reached for the knob and tried it, wedging his elbow up against the door and pushing against it with all his might.
He was shocked when he found himself tumble to the unforgiving ground, the door easily swinging open. He looked around, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He got up quickly, expecting parents to come down with a gun-or worse, without one.
But the house just moaned as it shifted, no footsteps, no other movement but his own, echoing around the house.
“Uh, Kat?” he breathed, his hand lighting up in a bright blue, illuminating the path before him. He walked slowly, cautiously, his feet crutching against glass. He looked down, kneeling and holding the engulfed hand of flame near the glass. It glittered, glistening with fresh blood atop it. He stood, his flame going out in smoke as he crossed carefully around the house in which he had never ventured into before. He crossed through the small hallway that reached from the doorway where tables had once stood proud but were now laid broken and beaten, scattered across the floor. As he continued cautiously, his foot landed on something once more, the cracking of what sound like snow resinating around the air. He froze, slowly lifting his boot and pulling it back. Again he kneeled, a small flame flickering atop his finger as he examined what he had further broken. In the picture there was a young girl of two, with strikingly brilliant violet eyes and hazel hair, her thumb stuck in her mouth as her large, innocent eyes stared at Samuel. She was situated between a man in his twenties, tall, muscular, a small, shaggy mustache under his nose, mimicking the girl's hair color, with blue eyes that watched Samuel knowing. A woman who was as well in her twenties, with beautiful blonde curls flowing onto her shoulders, with blue eyes like the man next to her, was smiling pleasantly. He turned the frame over, examining the words written in elegant cursive: “Katara, age two.” Shocked, he turned to look at the picture again, staring into those violet eyes. The gears within his mind ground together, pulling those violet eyes into place upon Katara's now aged face. The questions found their answer.
With his teeth clenched, he pulled the picture out from the frame, folded it, and placed it in his back pocket. He stood and in a few short seconds he took a left from the hallway and found himself going upstairs. Soft voices came from a room to the right off the large, square platform he was standing in. He slowly moved closer and pressed his ear to the wall.
“..I know that. It's just that boss said-”
“You actually think she's ganna miss a picture she can't see? I mean, c'mon. Besides, he said take everything of value in some way or another. How could this be of value to her?”
“Alright. I guess that's true.”
“Good, now—oooh, what do we have here?”
“The girl owns guns!?”
“And knives by the looks of it.”
“That doesn't make any sense. How could she-”
The voices suddenly cut off, silence haunting every corner. Sammy instinctively ducked, slowly, quietly. Gun fire went off, hitting the wall and tearing right through it, over Sammy's head. The door flew open, Sammy shooting up his arm, and the man suddenly being engulfed in crimson fire. He dropped his gun and ran screaming, patting his arms, dropping to his knees, and rolling around, trying to put it out. Samuel stood quickly then, turning tail and jumping to the floor beneath the stairs, a man shouting over the screaming and firing wildly. He came to the stairs and shot again, nicking the edge of Samuel's left shoulder as he ran for the door. Glass shattered beneath his feet and he skidded to the right, and headed from the house, the bag on his back suddenly seeming a lot heavier.


Night pulled a cloak over the running form, the only thing lighting his way being the flickering street lights. The voice rang in his head, “Then don't ask.” His own kin was dealing him. Who could he trust now? He ducked under a bridge, rain starting to sprinkle the ground around him. He pulled his knees close, trying to contain as much warmth as he possibly could. He shivered; he wanted nothing more than to go home, slip under the covers and fall asleep under a roof. He breathed out a sigh, the frosty air showing how warm his breath was against the chilled air around him. He closed his eyes, praying she was safe. Praying, that somehow, he would wake up to find this all a dream.


“Jess. Jess, wake up!” A tug shook the woman awake. She blinked, opening her eyes, finding a blinding light shinning directly into them. She winced, glancing away. “Where am I?” She managed.
“She'll have some minor memory loss. She'll get it back, however.” The voice came to her right, Jess sorely turning her head and peering into the light. A bald man stood next to her, a clipboard in hand. He held up his hand, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three.” She grumbled.
The doctor nodded, “Good. She should stay here for another-”
“No, we need to leave today.”
“You woke a while ago, you are free to leave. But she-”
“No. We leave as soon as she can stand.”
The bald man shook his head, handing Jeff his card, “Just in case.”
“We won't need it. You're free to go.”
The doctor sighed, turning and walking out. Jess looked around, finding herself in a small room, laying on a table. “Jeff? What happened?”
“You'll remember soon enough. We need to go. C'mon, can you stand?”
She groaned, slowly, tenderly sitting up. The room spun around her and she quickly shut her eyes, holding her head.
“The room's spinning.”
“It'll pass. It's not safe here. We need to leave.”
Jess looked at him, squinting in the harsh light. “Why?”
“You'll remember.”
“I want to know now. I'm not coming otherwise.”
“I'll tell you-”
“Now.”
“It's not safe now!” He shot back, his patience crumbling. “Listen, if I tell you and someone else hears, we'll be up to our noses in crap.” He grabbed her shoulders, “Jess, we need to leave. Right now. The vans outside, I can help you out there. Please, we need to go.”
Jess looked into his frightened eyes, then slowly put her feet to the ground. Jeff grabbed her waist to support her, her legs failing to hold her weight. She wrapped her arms around him, managing not to fall. She tried again, Jeff making sure she didn't fall, and managed to get her legs to hold her. They slowly made their way out of the room. Once they stepped foot out of the room Jess realized she was only wearing a plastic sheet over her, covering her front and back in a bag-like manor.
“Jeff, I need-”
“There's clothes in the van. You can get dressed in there.”
“How come you're not in one of these?”
“I had time to get dressed.” He smiled at her, then quickened their pace, Jess barely able to move her numb legs fast enough. They pushed past the doors of the hospital and walked outside to where the van was waiting. “Daily News” was printed in bright colors on the side, the morning sun reflecting off the letters, Jeff opening the back of the van and helping her get inside.
“Get dressed.” Then he shut them just as quickly as she had been pushed in. She quickly pulled her clothes on, thorwing the plastic garb off of her.
Pain dug its fangs into her mind. Needles from every direction slipped past her hard skull and dug into the fabric of her brain. Slowly at first the vicious Pain touched her mind, then dug its tendrils of Agony through every curve, under every layer, digging its way to her memories and savagely throwing them to the back of her eyes. She screamed, crumbling to her knees as the images burned her eyes. The school, then pictures, the lesson plans, the principal and those terrible dogs attacking her. Then he walked to them, threatened them if they were to even utter a word of the school, then all went black. The Pain receded. She opened her eyes, the doors having been thrown open, Jeff trying to get her attention.
“Dear God, are you okay?”
“I remember. I remember,” she repeated, staring at her hands. She looked at him, “I remember.”
He smiled slightly, “Wonderful way to get it back. C'mon, get in the front and let's get out of this blasted town.”
He helped her down, Jess staring at him. “Leave? No, we can't leave. We have to tell someone.”
“Are you insane?! You remember what he said! We're leaving!”
“No. What's he going to do? Shoot us as we stand in front of hundreds, no, thousands of people, telling them the truth?”
“We don't have any documents! Anything to prove what we say!”
“We don't need it. All we have to do is bring up some suspicion. They won't dare to move if we broadcast live.”
“Live? Jess, you must have been harder than I thought. We'd lose what's left of our jobs!”
Jess slapped him, glaring. “So you expect me to let these beasts continue living with us?! You expect me to lie down as they train to conquer us!? No, Jeff, with or without you I'm doing this.”
Jeff looked at her in shock, touching where the red mark was beginning to grow. “You're insane. Get in the car.”
“Jeff, I'm-”
He headed to the drivers seat, shouting over his shoulder, “So where's the busiest place in this God-Forsaken town?”

Sammy walked along main street, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and stretched; not one of his favorite places to sleep, but he managed to get some sleep nonetheless. He happened to glance over into the main park, watching as someone stood up on the stage used for wandering performers. He recognized her from the news his parents would watch every morning, her camera man off stage and getting the camera ready. A slight rustle made him look down, his foot having stepped right onto a newspaper. He stepped off it and was going to continue walking when a picture caught his eye. Blurred pictures of beasts flying in the sky, massive wingspans and terrible, large eyes. The title read, “Aliens or Hoax?” A shiver ran down his spine; was someone slipping? How were they to explain this one? He glanced at the title of the news printer, relieaved to find it being the less reliable paper, always saying how aliens had come to town, how the dead would soon walk. He shook his head, beginning to walk again.
“Attention! Everyone, please, stop and listen to me for just a moment if you will.”
Samuel stopped, looking at her once more. After all, where else did he have to go? A few others had the same idea and stopped to look a the woman on the raised stage. The camera was rolling and she held a microphone to her lips to make sure everyone could hear.
“I have been giving you all the daily news for a long while now, some would say too long.” That collected a few laughs and more people gathered. Sammy walked up closer as the crowd began to grow, wanting to hear. She smiled at them, then continued, “I was sent the school in where the shootings happened. As we waited to film we walked around inside. What we found was disturbing and some of the more weak-hearted may wish to leave.” The taunt did as she expected, gathering more people, Sammy pressing against the stage as more and more people crowded around. Her face remained serious, “You've all seen or heard of these wild beasts running around-”
“I was hit by one!” A woman called, sounding terrified. A few shouted for her to shut up, but she ignored them. “It was big and green, thousands upon thousands of vines making it up!”
Samuel shivered, more people shouting for her to shut up. He wanted to leave, feeling uncomfortable in the large crowd, but no one moved as he tried to push past them.
“Don't silence her,” the woman said, looking at the masses of faces. “The school harbors this strange things. It teaches them to fight, to avoid being killed.”
Grumbles of disbeliefs rang and a few people began to leave.
“Wait! I was attacked by one. I've been off the air, in the hospital because of what they did to me! We saw them, the papers, the machines they train against, pictures even! What the lady says is-”
A shot rang through the crowd. Jess looked down at her chest, touching the gaping wounds next to her heart. Blood covered her hands, sprayed against the stage. “Jess!” Jeff shouted, throwing down the camera and running towards her. Jess looked around, staring at the terrified, horrified faces. She caught one face more knowing than any other. His blue eyes stared at her with horror, but understanding. He knew. The blood trailed down her shirt, Jess pitching backwards.