Escape to Eden

by Rachel McClellan

  I stare at the Canine. That’s when it hits me. He’s the one I kept seeing whenever the other Canine was around. The second figure running after us when Colt was shot in the wing, when Ebony surrounded us in the forest, and that night I jumped into the tunnels to stop the first Canine. His twin brother was always there, waiting and watching for his turn.

  “Impossible,” Rowdy says. “There hasn’t been a documented case of twins in over a century.”

  “Not among Primes, but Originals can have them fairly easily with the right drugs. And breeding Canines made sense—twins will actually work together and share blood.” Ebony says the words slowly, deliberately.

  It’s hard to process what she’s saying, but when the wheels in my brain spin enough, I understand. They’re not just taking Originals for the marrow in their bones, they’re mating them too. And probably doing all sorts of experiments on them. I grow nauseous and fight the urge to collapse to the ground.

  I’m the first to speak. “What you’re doing is illegal. You can’t force pDNA injections.”

  “Who will stop us?”

  “You are the worst kind of person,” I say and step past Anthony to get closer to Ebony. “Your twisted, over-inflated view of your kind has destroyed humanity and all that was once good about this world.”

  She opens her mouth to speak, but I stop her.

  “I’m not finished. Your kind has polluted this planet for far too long, and I swear to you, one way or another, you will pay for your crimes.”

  Ebony’s normally calm expression cracks and twists into something dark and ugly. “Nobody threatens me.” She glances behind us and calls, “Kill them all, including the boy, but leave the girl barely breathing. I’m going to pump her so full of chemicals, she won’t recognize her own face.” She motions forward with her hand, and, as if on a springboard, the Primes behind her shoot forward.

  “Now, Tank!” Anthony yells.

  Tank removes a small black device from his pocket and presses a button. A loud pop vibrates the air, and a puff of smoke bursts from all Primes’ guns. Tank’s has rendered them useless, giving us a fighting chance. This distraction slows down some of the Primes but not all.

  I barely have the knives pulled from my boots before I’m knocked back by the Canine. I land hard on the cold ground and gasp for air. The Canine is growling over me, spit foaming in the corners of his mouth. I swing the blade upwards, but he takes hold of my wrist and squeezes until I think my bone will snap.

  I scream just as Anthony slams into his side, knocking him off balance. I quickly scramble backwards, keeping the knives, the only form of self-defense I have, firmly in my hands. Off to my right, Tank has taken on two Speeders, while the Dresdens engage the others.

  The Dresdens are excellent fighters and their ability to jump unnaturally high proves to be their greatest asset. Summa takes down two Primes with back-to-back blows with a curved short sword from each hand. He must’ve hit a major artery in the neck of one of them because blood sprays into the air, turning the falling snow red.

  I jump to my feet and rush to help Anthony, who’s lost the upper hand with the Canine. The Canine leaps into the air and rains a heavy blow with the back of his hand into Anthony’s face. Anthony falls to the ground, blood spurting from his nose. The Canine senses me coming and whirls around to pursue me. Just before we meet, I drop to the ground and slide along the wet grass. I swipe hard and fast, cutting into his leg. He cries out and spins around, teeth bared and gleaming wet.

  Anthony leaps over me and attacks him again. He’s strong, but the Canine’s movements are more accurate. Anthony manages to get a clean punch to the Canine’s jaw, but the only reaction from the Canine is to retaliate with a kick to Anthony’s gut.

  I’m already to my feet and running back to help, but I’m stopped by a short and stocky Peccarian. They aren’t the best fighters of the Primes but their thick skulls and leather-like skin make them difficult to take down.

  “All I’ve heard for the last week is how great your blood tastes,” he says. His voice is hoarse, like he eats wood chips for breakfast.

  “Get in line,” I say and swing the butt end of the knife for his throat, but it hits the base of his head instead. It makes a dull thudding sound against his skull. The Peccarian barely flinches.

  He punches me in the stomach, dropping me to the ground gasping for breath. While he laughs, his weakness comes to my mind.

  I wait until he’s standing above me then I thrust the knife hard in an upward motion. The knife slides just under his jaw, where the meat is soft and tender, and doesn’t stop until it reaches the top of his skull.

  I’m relieved by the quick results until he falls on top of me. While I struggle to push him off, I glance over at the others. There are at least five lying dead on the ground. Not surprisingly, three of them are behind Tank. He’s tearing through them, one swipe of a blade after another. He’s too fast and strong for most of them, until he reaches two of the Titans. Their size alone makes them worthy competitors. I know Tank thinks this too because he’s smiling wide.

  In the middle of the fray, Ebony’s virtual image appears calm, her hands clasped together at her waist, but she’s shouting orders. I know she’s smart enough to realize that no one can hear her, but she can’t help herself.

  Finally I’m able to wriggle free from the Peccarian, who reeks of onions and alcohol. Not far from me, Anthony is pinned beneath the Canine. His arms are bloody from trying to block the Canine from slashing open his head.

  I rush to him, my knife raised high. Expecting the Canine’s heightened senses to detect my approach, I tuck and roll at the last second. Good thing too because he turns around just as I reach him and swipes five razor-sharp claws directly where I would’ve been standing.

  His eyes widen in surprise. Exploiting the moment, I lunge the knife forward, hoping to at least draw blood, but he rears back like a cat doused with water. His head lifts and his gaze meets mine before he runs the opposite direction.

  I lean over Anthony and extend my hand. “You okay?”

  “I’ll survive.” He wipes blood away from his eyes.

  Together we rush after the Canine, but a tall Prime knocks Anthony away, leaving me to contend with the hungry predator alone. I run fast, taking a small detour toward Ebony’s projected image.

  She sees me coming and holds up her hands. “Stop! You are under the authority of the Institute and will be—”

  I stomp on the small, metal transmitter. Ebony’s image shimmers until it fades into nothing.

  “Thanks, Sage!” Tank calls, and I’m surprised he even noticed. He and a Titan are rolling across the grass, exchanging blows.

  I search the open space for the Canine. He’s standing a short distance from me, not far from the edge of the cliff. His mouth is open in a partial smile. One of his sharp incisors is rubbing against his bottom lip, slicing open the pink flesh. Blood runs onto his hairy chin.

  “My brother shared your blood with me,” he says.

  I walk toward him, the knife firmly in my grip. Using my peripheral vision, I take in all that I can, searching for something I can use against him. I have nothing to temporarily blind him with, unfortunately, and the thick cloud cover prevents me from using the sun in any way.

  There’s a stick nearby.

  It will break.

  A few scattered rocks.

  He will dodge them.

  A hundred-foot cliff.

  He’ll take me with him.

  I have to try. To end this once and for all.

  I lunge for the Canine, hoping to get him down low, but he swipes his hand backwards. The back of his hand connects with my jaw. The force of it knocks me to the ground, and stars explode behind my eyelids.

  The whole side of my face feels like it has been rammed by a wrecking ball. He’s too strong.

  From across the meadow someone calls my name as if saying it will somehow make me stronger. I think it is Anthony, maybe Tank.

 
Sorry, guys, but I’m not strong like you.

  The Canine nears me. I lash out at him but am too slow. He kicks me hard. The sound of my ribs breaking is as bad as the pain that ripples throughout my body. I can’t fight him like this, blow for blow. I’ll lose.

  I try a different strategy and say, despite the pain when my lungs expand, “I’m sorry about your brother.”

  He hesitates for a moment then says, “You shouldn’t be. Splitting a salary was burdensome. Killing my brother made me a rich man, so really I should be thanking you.”

  Because appealing to any sense of brotherly love he might’ve had didn’t work, I try a different approach. “Why are you doing this? You used to be one of us, an Original.”

  “And I hated every second of it. How do you stand it? The feeling of inadequacy? The weakness? The pain?” He stomps hard on my foot and twists.

  I cry out and almost drop the knife. Just beyond the battle continues. One of the Dresdens is lifeless on the ground, snow slowly blanketing his body on a sea of red. There’s too much of it, I think, but then I notice there’s a pair of legs beneath him. Two dead.

  Tank is on the other side of the clearing, moving slower than usual and no longer smiling. He’s fighting three Primes, and his yellow shirt is partially red in the back. I only see Rowdy and Anthony trying to work their way back to me, but a sudden new wave of Primes slow their progress.

  “Answer me!” the Canine says, bringing my attention back to him.

  As soon as I catch my breath, I say, “It is difficult to live in this world where everyone is stronger and prettier than me—”

  “A living nightmare.”

  “—but that doesn’t make them better than me.” I lift quickly at the waist and slash the knife. It slices into the meaty part of his thigh where I know he is the strongest.

  The Canine drops to his knee and growls. I scramble away from him and get to my feet. He breathes heavily through his wide nostrils like a bull facing a matador. This is not an optimal position.

  I glance to the left and right of me, searching for an escape. There are only two options: back into the fight with the others or over the cliff. I’d consider the cliff if there was water directly below it, but there’s only a short, rocky beach.

  Back to the fight it is.

  I’m about to run when someone yells my name—a sweet, child’s voice, almost angelic. I turn around slowly.

  Max.

  He’s standing at the edge of the forest where Jenna had disappeared with him minutes earlier. His chest is rising and falling, and his little fists are clenched at his side.

  My eyes go to the Canine. He sniffs the air and smiles at me.

  Before I can stop him, he turns around and bounds after Max.

  “No!” I scream. I take off after him, ignoring the pain in my foot and the burning in my ribs.

  Max doesn’t seem to see the Canine. He’s staring only at me with wide, terror-stricken eyes.

  “Run, Max!” I yell again. There’s no way I’ll get to the Canine in time.

  The knife.

  I raise my arm and aim the best I can. I only have one shot at this. Thinking back to my father’s teachings, I inhale deeply and exhale. Focus. Block out all other stimuli. See your target. I flip my arm forward and let the knife fly. It spins end over end through falling snowflakes until it hits the Canine in the back. He falls face forward.

  I keep running and jump over the Canine, who I’m pretty sure is still alive. A blow like that, although harmful, most likely won’t kill him. I reach Max and scoop him up.

  “Are you okay? Where’s Jenna?”

  He points behind him.

  Jenna appears just then, racing up a hill. “That little twerp! He kicked me and ran away!”

  Max smiles big. A snowflake lands on his nose. Who is this kid?

  “Look out!” Jenna shouts.

  I know what’s coming. I drop Max just as the Canine’s open hand knocks the side of my head. My body flies through the air several feet and into a tree. More cracked ribs. When I land, all I can do is inhale tiny sips of air.

  But I can’t give up.

  The Canine has Max by the throat with one hand, and with his other he takes Max’s arm and bites it hard. The consequences of what just happened pains me more than anything else. He’s had Max’s blood now and will be able to track him anywhere. I no longer have a choice. I know what has to be done.

  I struggle to my feet, determined to save Max, even though I know there’s nothing I can do from my position. Jenna, however, can. She swings a big stick, hitting him directly on his wounded leg. When he drops to his knees, she reverses her swing and hits the knife still firmly embedded into the left side of his back. This makes him let go of Max.

  This new, more clear-minded Max knows he needs to run. He turns to come toward me, but I point back the way he came.

  “Get out of here!” My words are leaving half-full lungs, so they are barely audible. Max may not have heard me, but he sees the direction of my pointed finger and goes that way.

  Jenna manages to hit the Canine two more times before he finally catches the limb in her hand. He twists it from her grip and stands tall.

  Jenna opens her mouth to scream.

  “No!” I yell, finding enough oxygen for the short word. If she does that it will render everyone within a twenty-yard radius useless, and if Tank and the others somehow lose the battle, Max and I will easily be dragged off. I can’t give up that control.

  Instead of screaming, Jenna kicks at the Canine. She’s strong, but her movement barely affects him. In return, he picks her up and tosses her to the side, then snaps his head in my direction. Foamy, blood-tinged saliva bubbles in the corners of his mouth.

  He walks toward me, mindful of his injured leg. His left shoulder drops unnaturally.

  I hobble backwards out of the tree line and back toward the edge of the cliff, all the while searching for some kind of a weapon. I bend over and snatch up as many rocks as I can hold, almost slipping on the wet ground in the process.

  The Canine’s breathing is ragged, and by the sound of it there’s fluid in his lungs, which means one of them is punctured.

  I draw my hand back and throw a rock hard and fast. He easily dodges it. I do it again. This time I hit him in the shoulder, but the rock bounces off of him like it’s rubber. This is just stupid, but it’s all I got. I throw the rest of them and glance behind me. The edge isn’t far. It’s my only weapon, but one that can easily be used against me, too. It’s worth the risk for Max. The Canine has to die.

  Beyond the Canine, the fight has grown fiercer. There’s not many standing. Tank is there. And Tori. I panic when I can’t find Anthony, but then I see him. He’s on the ground, dragging himself away from an approaching Titan. Blood runs down the side of his face.

  I want so badly to help, but I can’t as long as the Canine is in my path. I glance behind me again. Only a few feet to the edge.

  “Nowhere to go,” the Canine says.

  It’s difficult and painful to speak, but I have to. Words are all I have left. “I can jump, and all my precious blood will be spilled on those rocks below.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Of course I would, but if you promise to end the fight and let the others go, I’ll go with you peacefully.”

  His gaze flickers to the edge behind me. He’s probably trying to decide if I really would jump or not. He doesn’t know me at all.

  “Fine,” he says. “Give up now, and we’ll end this.”

  I hold out my wrists. “Take me.”

  He comes directly in front of me, and stares down at my outstretched hands. “I’m not stupid.” He reaches inside his leathered vest and removes a syringe from his pocket. “You’re a much better prisoner unconscious.”

  Before he can do anything further, I make my move. The only one I have left.

  Using both hands, I grab his good arm and roll backwards to the ground with as much force as I can, taking his
body with me. I continue the momentum by raising my legs up, effectively flipping him directly over me and off of the cliff. The motion is so fast that I’m brought to my feet, completing a perfect backward somersault, my back to the sea.

  I look over my shoulder. I did it! The Canine is falling to his death, his hands outstretched and mouth forming a giant O. Surprising myself, I laugh out loud, despite it hurting every part of my chest.

  I go to take a step forward to help the others, but the edge I’m standing on doesn’t agree. The fragile earth gives way and my foot slips, followed by the rest of me. I claw at the dirt, my nails digging hard into the ground, but there is nothing to support my weight, and I fall even faster until there’s nothing beneath me but air.

  I’ve never felt heavier. Or more helpless.

  The ground rushes up at me. I will be dead soon. At least Max will be safe.

  I close my eyes, a natural instinct, when all of a sudden my body is plucked from the air. My arms and legs jerk forward, and I grunt.

  My eyelids snap open. Somehow I’m flying just a few feet from the ground. When a small section of sandy beach opens, I’m let go and fall the rest of the way. I roll a few times before I stop. Pain radiates from my chest to the rest of my body, but I’m alive. That’s all that matters.

  But how?

  I roll onto my back. A dark figure, black wings spread wide, circles above me, cutting through the swirling snowflakes like a fallen angel.

  Colt.

  He flies toward me then lands a few feet away. His wings fold behind him, completing the motion just as he kneels in front of me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m shocked beyond words. He shouldn’t be here!

  “Answer me.” His expression is serious, but his eyes are concerned.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Where’s Max?” he asks.

  “Safe with Jenna. Now answer me. What are you doing here?”

  He looks up like he’s about to fly away. I take hold of his arm. “You shouldn’t be here. Why are you here?”

  He turns back to me. “What you did to me, taking away my agency, wasn’t cool, but I get why you did it. So I hope you can one day understand what I did.”