Naturals (5 page)

No.

No
.

“We have to go help them,” I commanded, detangling myself from Henry’s grasp.

He grabbed onto my wrists and held them tightly. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“If there’s nothing to be done, no chance of getting out of this, then I’d rather die fighting. Wouldn’t you?” I asked, channeling some of the hardness I so often heard from him.

He turned his head and looked to where the screams were coming from. “
The council
decided how you lived. You want them to decide how you die, too?” His eyes found mine, and I saw the soldier return. “Who says we’re dying? Not me. Not tonight,” he added. “Robert said to wait here. So we wait.” But this solider didn’t want vengeance. He wanted to protect.

I pulled against Henry’s hold, but his grasp only became stronger. I brought my foot up and slammed it down on his toe. I knew I didn’t have enough strength to cause any real harm, but I hoped the surprise would distract him long enough for me to make a run for it.

I didn’t move two feet before Henry’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he panted into my ear.

I continued to try and break his hold on me. “Let me go,” I pleaded.

Henry spun me around to face him. “To do what? Die? Then all of it was for nothing. Louisa. James. Everything your father died for.”

I froze. My heart beat wildly against my chest. There it was. My guilt. “You don’t understand. I can’t just sit here and let them die for me. I can’t.”

I felt it then: a panic attack. The air wouldn’t come up. It was stuck. I was stuck. There was no way out of here. There never would be. “I can’t be their symbol. I’m not some sign that our people will go on. Maybe the naturals are supposed to end, Henry. How many people have to die before we realize we can’t change anything? We ran and they found us. They’ll always find us.”

“You’re our hope when we were told none existed. I believe with all my soul a little hope is all we need. A little hope and we can get them to rise up and fight back,” Henry argued.

“I can’t be the start of their war. Those people could be out there suffering for me, and for what? I can’t…because even if we make it out of here, this won’t stop. It will never, ever stop. The council will make sure of it. The Isolationists will make sure of it. I’ll be like some toy the kids fight over during playtime.” I paused, sucking in as much air as I could. “I’d rather die than go back to a life like that.”

Every fear that had plagued me during the journey returned in full force—the fears that were the darkest part of my soul, ones that hoped I’d never make it to the camp.

“We’re never going back to that life, Tess. I swear it. No matter where we go, I promise it will be different. Even if you and I have to run from the Middlelands as well.” Henry’s voice was low and strong. “Do you believe me when I tell you this?”

I nodded numbly.

“Then you also need to believe me when I say that you can’t fight. That’s the truth of the matter. Want to help? You’ll wait here with me and stop trying to run. If one of those things makes it through, I’m all we’ve got. Chasing after you isn’t in either of our best interests right now.”

When I didn’t reply, Henry raised an eyebrow. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “You want to live?”

I stared back at him—the boy the council tried to erase. I saw in him my past and my present. We would have to search out our future together. He had promised me this back during the early days of our journey. As we’d walked side by side among the destroyed houses, he told me I could have my own life.

I didn’t have to leave him behind. No matter where I was forced to go. Unlike Louisa and James, he was here with me.

“Yes,” I breathed. “I want to live.”

Chapter 5

When Robert finally found us, Henry and I were hidden as well as we could be. Henry had attempted to camouflage us with fallen tree branches, but the barren limbs of the trees that lay dead on the ground, decaying reminders of a life once lived, offered little protection. So we waited for what seemed like hours. And when Robert emerged, I didn’t think twice before running out from my hiding place and throwing my arms around him.

Robert gently pulled away from my embrace and offered me a small smile.

I felt my cheeks go red. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever hugged Robert before. Can’t say I’d always been the most affectionate of people, but while I was embarrassed, I didn’t feel shame. I was glad he was okay.

He was family.

Maybe that word didn’t mean now what it had meant years and years ago, but I doubted there was anything left in this world untouched by war. And I didn’t feel the need to hide that anymore.

“What about the others?” Henry asked from behind me.

Robert’s expression grew tight.

“They’re all dead?” I asked, my stomach dropping.

“Not all of us.”

McNair appeared. Alone. A long gash ran from his forehead down to his chin. No doubt it would leave a permanent mark—a battle scar proclaiming it would be a long war. My throat felt dry and my chin fell forward. My eyes burned. I felt it again, deep inside the pit of my stomach—guilt. How many people had to die just so I could live? How many families would be ruined simply to keep me alive? Was I worth it? No, I wasn’t. It was what I could do that meant something. It was the hope for humanity.

“Did you take care of them?” asked Henry, allowing no space to mourn what we had lost.

“You can say that,” barked a voice. I looked up to see Eric dragging something across the ground. His face was covered with a plethora of bruises and cuts, and while none of his lacerations were as deep as the one that covered McNair’s face, it was obvious Eric had taken quite a beating.

As my eyes moved from assessing his injuries to the object he heaved toward us, I realized it just wasn’t some
thing
. It was a person.

This man was too large to be Jones. Massive. Unlike anything I’d ever seen. Even the memories of my father’s captors that danced inside my brain at night—images I knew my fear had exaggerated—couldn’t compare to the behemoth in front of me. Eric grunted and proceeded to pull the creature closer. I could only make out his back and limbs, as the man’s head hung low toward his chest. I would bet the length of his arm alone would reach from my head down to my toes.

“Damn, this abnorm weighs a ton,” Eric spat out as he ungraciously dropped the man to the ground.

“Why does he look like that?” I asked, appalled.

“Not cute enough for you, darling?” Eric asked. “Consider this thing a cousin of the pretty little boys you call chosen ones. They take less time to make. Their creators don’t waste all the years programming them into believing in the council’s crap. They don’t have the abilities, either.”

“Then why make them at all?” Henry asked. “I thought the point of the creators making the chosen ones was to produce a generation of flawless saps trained to follow whatever was commanded of them. The perfect humans.”

“That is the council’s higher purpose. But they’re losing the war, and they need infantry. So they commissioned these things. Strong. Brutal. Easier for us naturals to kill because of their lack of abilities, but good for mass producing,” McNair explained.

Henry edged closer to the unconscious man and hesitantly kicked him with his toe.

“Don’t,” I warned, afraid that at any moment the beast would awaken. But even as I said the words, I felt myself moving closer.

“Is it dead?” Henry asked, staring down at him with pure abhorrence.

“What about Jones?” Robert asked.

I looked over at McNair, who gave a slight shake of his head. My breath caught in my throat, and my chest tightened painfully.

A wry grin appeared on Eric’s face. “The abnorm’s not dead, but I sure did knock the shit out of him. You can touch him if you like,” he replied with a waggle of his eyebrows, like the abnorm was some prized object he wanted to boast about during some creepy version of show and tell. I didn’t understand how Eric could make jokes, knowing his friend had just died. But then I didn’t know whether they were really friends, either.

Henry crouched down and placed his hands on the being. With a considerable amount of exertion, he managed to turn him on his back.

I’d never seen a chosen one like this.

I sucked in my lips to keep from emptying the paltry contents of my stomach. Even the deformed chosen one I’d helped clear away my first day at Templeton was nothing compared to what was before us.

This was a creature of hell.

The monster’s forehead was covered in bumps and ridges. He had a misshapen skull that reminded me of the crust of the chicken potpie the compound served on holidays. Every breath the creature struggled to take caused the bones to ripple under his skin. Large scars—recent battle scars?—ran rampant across his face, hastily sewn with crude stitches. Everything about this creation was distorted. Imperfect. One eye larger than the other. His eyebrows and hair not groomed. His teeth pointy and jagged. And his body—this was where the creators put forth their real effort. I’d never seen muscles so large. This man wasn’t art. There was nothing beautiful about him.

When the chosen ones were first created, they were meant to be symbols of everything we hoped humanity could be: strong and resilient. Testaments to the power of science—its ability to make the sublime tangible.

This was a killing machine. He could end me before I had time to blink.

“You’re really telling me this thing was created by our council?” Henry asked, clearly shocked.

“That abnorm belongs to the western sector, all right,” Eric replied, nudging the body with the butt of his rifle.

“From the compound we burned down?” I asked, kneeling next to Henry to get a closer look.

“Why don’t we ask him?” Eric replied, nodding once toward the creature before walloping him on the side of the head with his gun. Suddenly, the creature began to stir.

I couldn’t stop the yelp that issued from my mouth as I scrambled to my feet, Henry close behind me. McNair and Eric clicked the safeties off their guns in a perfect synchronized series of movements as Robert came to stand near Henry and me.

The prisoner moaned and let out a series of sounds that resembled words but made very little sense. “Are we sure this creation can even talk? You don’t have to be able to speak to receive orders,” Robert noted.

“I don’t care if he can talk. He sure as hell can lie there and listen,” McNair said, keeping his gun pointed directly at him.

The creature’s eyes sprang open, then they narrowed as he took us in. No doubt, just like his more fashionable brothers, he’d been taught to see us as vermin. His face turned an alarming shade of red and sweat appeared on his brow as he attempted to sit up, blowing air from his nostrils like some wild animal ready to attack.

“Why can’t he move?” Henry asked.

“’Cause right after we shot his friends in the head, I got this one here in the stomach,” Eric bragged.

He was right. A blotch of red was slowly taking over the chosen one’s shirt.

“That won’t keep him down for long,” Robert said. “He’ll fight through it. That’s the way we’re trained—to deal with pain. Once he’s gathered his senses, he’ll fight till he bleeds to death.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I’ll shoot him in the head before that happens,” Eric snapped. “All your scientific enhancements can’t deter a bullet from ripping apart your brain. You abnorms are flesh and blood, after all. No matter what the brochure says.”

“That’s why they don’t want your kind having guns. A direct shot to the head will take out one of the abnorms. And without the abilities, the gun levels the playing field slightly,” added McNair.

“Then just shoot him now,” Henry replied, his face twisting in repugnance.

“Hey! You! Can you speak?” McNair yelled at the struggling thing. Tears streamed down the creature’s face as he fought against the pain in order to fulfill his duty—to eradicate any natural he came across, that much was clear. If the creators could make something like this and let it live, then they no longer worried about making us feel safe. The beauty of the chosen ones was meant to put us at ease. Nothing about the appearance of this thing would leave anyone feeling calm. This was a weapon of war. Not a God sent from the heavens to protect the poor, defenseless mortals.

This was truly a weapon of mass destruction.

An unintelligible string of grunts issued from the creature’s mouth. “Maybe Robert’s right,” I said. “If the war between the easterners and us is as bad as you say, then this is merely a soldier. Why would they give him the ability to talk? He won’t be able to tell us anything. You’re wasting your time.”

“Wasting our time? Do you want to know what he and his friends did to Jones while McNair and I tried to take him down?” Eric said slowly. “It wasn’t a quick kill. They yanked his arms from their sockets. Can you even imagine what that sounds like?” He shut his eyes, forcing away some image I didn’t want to see. “Then one of them picked him up by his legs and hit him against a tree over and over and over again, like he was a damn baseball bat!” Eric snarled

I gulped.

“I’m gonna make this last, sweetie,” Eric promised.

“Damn right,” Henry growled. “He deserves a slow death.”

Robert sighed and crouched down next to the chosen one. And the man stopped writhing. They simply stared at each other, then Robert removed his jacket and placed it over the man’s wound. “Do you understand me?” he asked gently.

The man’s eyes widened and he gave a small nod.

“Good. If it’s all right, I’m going to ask some questions. Are you from the compound about a few days’ journey from here?”

Again, the man nodded.

“Were the rest of your brothers…like you?”

The man’s eyes shifted from Robert’s face and stared up into the sky. He shook his head.

“Were some of them like you?” Robert amended.

Nod.

“Are the easterners getting closer?” Henry said. “Why did you desert the compound? We saw what you did to all those people, you sick bastard!”

And I remembered that it was only days ago that we both sat by and watched another die.

The girl. A natural.

“You know he can’t answer those questions,” Robert replied over his shoulder.

I took a shaky breath and moved to sit down, placing my hands next to Robert’s to help stop the bleeding. I knew there would be no saving him, but it didn’t stop me. He was dangerous. A killer. And despite knowing this, I couldn’t stop myself from what came next. He was a victim just as much as me. He didn’t ask for this life. He was forced into it.

“What are you doing, Tess?” Henry asked, alarmed.

“Whatever he is, he’s human,” I retorted.

I couldn’t help but think of James. He was created by the same council who made the creature before us.

I opened my mouth to speak. But my words were drowned by a single deafening noise as it pierced the air. I moved to cover my ears as I was hit in the face with something wet, almost as if thunder and rain had simultaneously appeared without any warning. My head felt light. Through the residual ringing in my ears, I could make out the muffled shouts of the men around me.

I stared down at the chosen one to find his eyes wide open. Vacant. Lifeless. I brought a trembling hand to my face and touched the wetness smeared there. And when I looked at my hand, now covered with the act I did not understand, I saw the blood. I didn’t understand what the blood was doing there. What had happened?

I looked up at Eric, squinting as the rising sun made it difficult to see, blazing before him like a fire. Henry’s fire—a fire that would go on burning and burning. The need for revenge. The end of Eric’s gun was smoking.

“I thought you were going to make him suffer?” asked Henry dully.

“Accident,” Eric replied, his voice indicating it was anything but.

“Time to move out,” McNair commanded.

Robert helped pull me to my feet. Once I was steady, he brushed his sleeve across my face in an attempt to clean it of blood. He gave my hand a quick squeeze before he fell in line behind McNair.

My throat hurt. Burned. I cleared it. “Aren’t we going to bury him?” I asked.

“Which one? Jones or the abnorm?” Eric sneered.

And I realized I didn’t know which one I meant, either.