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The Mutation Breakdown: Book 1 in The Generation Series

Page 4

by E S Richards


  When she finally made it to the mountainside, she sat down and rested behind a little bush. There was small amount of vegetation here and to her delight she managed to find some berries on the underside of one of them, nestled in amongst the thorny branches that poked at her as she sat. Regardless, she was thankful for the shade, so put up with the poking of branches in her side.

  Whilst she sat, she checked the wound on her shoulder, which had finally stopped bleeding now and re-dressed it with a fresh strip of fabric, again torn from her faded green sweater. She finished the first bottle of water, but made sure to keep the bottle in her pocket would she have the chance to refill it later. After sitting for a while, Zahyra knew she should keep walking whilst the clouds were blocking out most of the sun and rest in the hotter afternoon hours. But with her body running on only a few hours sleep, and those technically being whilst she was unconscious, she simply couldn’t force herself to get up. Instead she curled into the bush, pulling the spare jacket she now had around herself, and dozed off into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 4

  The sound of an engine zooming past woke Zahyra with a start from where she’d been sleeping. Darkness had fallen and she instantly knew she’d slept for too long. With a yawn she began to stretch, before immediately feeling the twinge in her right shoulder and stopping from the pain. Her head hurt much less thanks to the rest she’d had, but from the bustle of activity around her, Zahyra wished she had woken up hours ago.

  When she had originally lain down in the small cluster of bushes Zahyra now sat in, willing for her eyes to adjust to the darkness surrounding her, it had been midday dusk. That meant she’d slept through the two to three hours of sunlight afterwards and was now stuck in the middle of the desert wastelands for around fourteen hours of darkness. She shivered, pulling the extra jacket tighter around her body. Things were not looking good. Although from what she could remember of her surroundings – and what she could vaguely make out in the darkness – there weren’t any buildings near to where she had stopped earlier that day. But the sounds comings from around her led her to believe there was definitely some sort of activity going on nearby.

  Another vehicle sped past her hiding place at that moment and the bushes Zahyra was using as cover were temporarily illuminated by the SUVs headlights. Panicking she forced herself to shuffle further down into the bushes, scratching her face on one of the thorny branches that stuck out from above. Minutes seemed to pass silently as Zahyra waited to see if she had been discovered in the spotlight, although realistically it was only a matter of seconds.

  She desperately tried to keep her breathing quiet and even, not knowing what kind of mutants could be out there right now searching for Zeros like her. If any one of them could see in the dark, or had echolocation, sonar or anything like that, she was going to be caught for sure. When she was finally certain the coast was clear, she manoeuvred herself back out from underneath the bush and squinted into the darkness. She wished she could see in the dark like Grayson had done the night before – not that it had done him much good Zahyra remembered sadly. Her heart sank as she thought of everyone who had been murdered on her bus, including her friend Thorn and one of the other young girls she’d recognised.

  She sat motionless in the dark, fear coursing through her veins as she struggled to decide what to do. On the one hand, she was fairly well hidden amongst the bushes, on the other it would only take one slightly inquisitive mutant to look her way and her cover would be blown. After about twenty minutes of waiting, listening and watching the darkness around her, Zahyra admitted to herself that she was going to accomplish nothing by sitting in the dark. Plus the longer she waited the longer Asher was alone, with the mutants doing god knows what to him – she dreaded to think.

  Gathering all her courage she moved out from the bushes, her eyes now fairly well acquainted to the darkness around her. To her right was the mountain face, which would provide her with the most cover from whatever and whoever was out there. To her left there appeared to be the continuation of whatever track the mutant convoy that had destroyed her bus had taken last night. She knew this was the route she had to take. But as she could see no more than a few meters ahead of her, Zahyra made the decision to edge towards the mountain face and creep along that until she came across something more discerning. Or until the track she knew she had to follow was no longer in her line of sight. She had no idea what she would find at the end of this beaten track: gangs of mutants waiting to pounce, a mutant camp, Asher… she pictured her younger brother’s innocent face and prayed it was the latter.

  Silently and with more care than she’d ever taken before she knelt up so she was standing. At full height she was only a small five foot four inches, but the bushes around her only reached half her height at best. Crouching she knew she would be better hidden, but at full height she could move quicker and make her way to the mountain wall at a faster pace. Stealth versus speed. In an instant, Zahyra opted for speed. Carefully and quietly she checked she had everything with her: the boys jacket she’d taken from the bus she now wore, Grayson’s knife was fastened tightly around her waist, the blade of which she had wrapped a few leaves around and tucked into the back pocket of her cargo pants. Finally her two water bottles were forced into the larger pockets of the boys jacket, meaning both her hands were free from holding them – not that her right arm was much use, the cut on her shoulder still stinging with every movement.

  Then, knowing she couldn’t afford to wait any longer, Zahyra burst into a quick jog away from her hiding place and towards the mountain. There was about four hundred meters of barren wasteland between her and the mountain, with absolutely nothing to hide behind or duck underneath. If any mutants were to spot her whilst she was out in the open, she was surely done for. But she had been one of the fastest sprinters in her camp, often beating the boys who were just a year younger than her. She knew she should make it there in just a couple of minutes.

  As she ran she did her best to tred as lightly as she could, thankfully made easier by the dense sand beneath her feet. Although it did mean she couldn’t run as fast as she wanted to. Her breathing was ragged and tired from the stress of everything she had been through over the last twenty-four hours, but luckily those few hours of sleep and the surge of adrenaline from the pressure of her situation meant she had the energy to run. That, combined with her sheer determination, willed Zahyra to keep moving. Twisting her head as she ran Zahyra attempted to increase her field of vision, getting ever closer to the sheer mountain face in front of her. Recalculating the distance, Zahyra believed she had covered about three hundred meters when disaster struck and the unmistakable sound of an engine in the distance vibrated through her eardrums. Panicked, she frantically dropped to the ground.

  Sure enough, the headlights belonging to one of the mutant’s SUVs appeared around the corner and Zahyra pressed her body further into the sand beneath her, willing herself to become invisible or melt away into the ground. She all but stopped breathing and closed her eyes praying that – as every child believes – if she couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see her. Thankfully, the headlights swung over her body where she lay for just a fraction of a second and moved off into the distance, the sound of the engine slowly going out of her earshot.

  Zahyra let out a long breath and slowly opened her eyes. It was dark again, and the SUV was gone. Whether she couldn’t be seen where she was or whether she had just been lucky, Zahyra didn’t want to hang around to find out. Leaping to her feet she ran faster than she ever had before, completing the last hundred-meter sprint in under a minute and falling heavily to the ground against the cool mountain wall.

  Catching her breath she looked around her, realising in dismay that this wasn’t the sheltered and hidden location she had hoped for. Mutants driving down the road would now have a clear view of her as she leant desperately against the rocky mountain wall behind her. Knowing she had to keep moving Zahyra rose to her feet and clung to the side of the mountai
n as she slowly jogged in the direction the SUV had been coming from, right into the waiting arms of the developed mutants, she thought. But she knew she didn’t have a choice.

  Once again as she ran she kept her eyes and ears trained for any sign of another SUV, or any of the mutants on foot, but this time she was lucky. Then, rounding the corner she saw a set of three ramshackle huts in a line and about fifteen mutants standing outside. She stopped, dropping to the ground again. The mutants appeared to be laughing, shouting and drinking, while a few more of them stood closest to her were smoking some pungent type of leaf. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Knowing there would almost certainly be more inside in three huts, Zahyra crouched sunken against the rock face, desperate and bewildered about what to do next.

  She realised that if she could sneak past the three closest to her – the ones who were smoking – she could make it round behind the huts and climb onto what looked like an indented ledge on the mountain. Zahyra toyed with this idea for a moment, trying to decide whether being trapped up on a ledge was a better idea than being free to run away on the ground. Finally she defined that it was, as she would be more hidden and as she hoped what the mutants were drinking was some sort of alcohol, they wouldn’t have their wits about them to notice her.

  She watched the three smokers for a minute longer, discerning that whatever it was they were smoking wasn’t enabling them to remain in their right minds, as they swayed from side to side and burst into reels of throaty laughter after almost everything that one of them said. So with what must have been her umpteenth deep breath of the day she remained low in a squat and started to slink slowly around the wall.

  Remarkably she made it to beneath the ledge in the mountain with ease, not making a sound or causing any of the mutants to look her way once. She had always been an excellent climber, so clambered up the rock face and onto the ledge she had chosen, leaving her about ten feet above the ground below. It was just deep enough into the mountain for her to lie on her front, legs stretched out behind her, meaning almost none of her body was visible and she could easily curl up further back to become more hidden. The ledge was dry as well, and the mountain face cascading up above her provided her with some protection from the wind. This would be as safe a place as any to rest, Zahyra knew.

  However, now that she was there, hidden away and closer to a large group of advanced mutants than she had ever been before, curiosity got the better of her and she couldn’t resist leaning over to hear what they were saying below.

  “…And did you see how big his eyes got when we showed him?” One of the mutants croaked from down below, taking a swing from the foul smelling liquid they were all drinking. “He almost couldn’t believe it.”

  “I know, dunno what those runts were doing out there at night, but we sure showed ‘em.”

  “Wish I’d been there,” the third one in the group chimed in. Zahyra gasped when she saw him, he was wearing a ripped vest, which had clearly started off its existence as a t-shirt, but he’d ripped the sleeves off so they were torn away and ragged. The reason for Zahyra’s gasp was the burnt in number 5 she could see on his right arm, just visible under the light from the fire pits that were dotted around the group.

  He was a Gen 5. The first Zahyra had ever seen. His arms were huge with muscle and his body was toned so she could tell he was well built underneath his torn clothing. The cold truth that she was hiding above a Gen 5 mutant caused her to shiver with fear. They were the most developed mutants alive by far and Zahyra dreaded to think what would happen if he spotted her. She would surely be killed she thought; whether she passed for a Gen 1 or not, they wouldn’t care at all. The Gen 5 had continued speaking and Zahyra quickly zoned back in to catch the rest of what he was saying.

  “…would’ve shown ‘em a thing or two. You just bring the lads back?”

  With another stifled gasp Zahyra realised they must be talking about the raid on her bus from the night before and trained her ears in so she could catch everything they said. Hoping they’d reveal the location of where they’d taken Asher and the rest of the boys.

  “Yeah,” the first mutant replied, Zahyra now noticed he was marked as a Gen 4. The other mutant in the group was turned away from her, so she couldn’t see how advanced he was, but from the company he was keeping, he couldn’t be lower than a Gen 4 himself. “Handed ‘em over to the chief, like I said, he couldn’t believe the catch.”

  “Take ‘em over to the camp did he?”

  “Yeah, got a few more the night before as well, a nice new collection for us to break in.”

  The three mutants burst into some deep laughter at this comment and Zahyra winced at the thought of whatever ‘breaking them in’ meant. It couldn’t be good that’s for sure. Now that it was confirmed to her that Asher had been captured, her resolve to rescue him was stronger than ever. Wherever that camp was that he’d been taken to she had to find it.

  Leaning over again Zahyra listened carefully, with the hope that one of them would reveal the location of the camp. Wandering around in the dark looking for Asher in a wasteland filled with mutants didn’t appeal to her one bit, but she knew it would likely be the outcome. Then something happened that instilled her entire body with fear.

  “Got a light, Brick?” One of the mutants she’d seen smoking earlier called over to the group she was listening in to and started to walk over towards them. He held in his hand a pipe filled with whatever they were smoking, now extinguished by the wind.

  “Here you go lad,” the Gen 5, Brick, replied and snapped his fingers to create a spark between them. Then in the palm of his hand, a small fireball formed, the flames flickering in the wind that blew against the mountain wall, but burning bright and dangerous none the less.

  The smoker walked over, stuck the end of his pipe into Brick’s palm and inhaled, lighting it, he then nodded in thanks and returned to his group. The Gen 5 could make fire! Zahyra had always assumed that this was a mutation that some more developed mutants would carry, but had obviously never witnessed it before. She sank back into the mountain with terror. An ability to control fire was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous, and she was hiding no more than a few meters away from it.

  Now shaking, Zahyra curled up into herself forming a small ball. She was in way over her head. Surrounded by twenty or more mutants, the most advanced she’d ever experienced, with abilities that could kill her in under a second. Not only did she have no idea how to even get out of the place she was now trapped in, but also she didn’t know which direction to continue searching for Asher in. He was in a camp somewhere and that was literally all she knew. Her mind drifted back to the camp they had left and she knew with absolute certainty whatever camp Asher was now in would be nothing like that. She wondered about what the mutants had meant by breaking the boys in and knew it couldn’t be good. Asher wasn’t a strong boy and in reality he wasn’t particularly brave either. She could picture his face now, scared and unaware of what was going to happen to him. Zahyra knew his brain would be working overtime trying to figure out a way he could escape. She hoped their efforts would intertwine and between them they’d manage to break him out. But just her, a Zero, up against what could easily be hundreds of Gen 4 and 5 mutants; she’d rather spend a lifetime alone in the desert than do that.

  Not that quitting was an option. She had never been a quitter and wasn’t going to start now. Asher’s life was on the line and only she could save him. She had a responsibility to him as his big sister. She was supposed to protect him and she’d let him be taken from her. Sitting alone in the mountain face, she wished with all her might that she had not strapped Asher into that seat belt on the bus. She wished that she’d put it on and she’d been the one left behind – even if that had resulted in her death. At least Asher would have been thrown from the bus. At least he would be alive.

  Then, shaking her head at this thought Zahyra realised how stupid she was being. What would Asher have done if he’d woken up in the sand and found her dea
d beside the bus? She could barely deal with the images of the dead girls that kept flashing through her mind every time she closed her eyes, Asher would never have managed.

  A tear slid down her face as she thought of what would have happened if she’d found Asher’s body that morning. Nothing was worse than death: she knew that. At least they were both alive, despite their horrible situations. And they would be reunited again. Zahyra steeled herself, forcing herself to stop crying and focus on the task at hand. Nothing in the wastelands was easy, but there was a way and she would figure it out.

  Not daring to listen in to the mutants for any longer, Zahyra closed her eyes and willed for sleep to come, to spare her from her living nightmare for just a few hours. Then in the morning when it was light, she’d find a way to save her brother. How she did not know, but she knew she could do it. She had to.

  Miraculously sleep did find Zahyra, her body still exhausted from the past few days. When she woke up on the ledge she stretched again, discovering her shoulder was finally beginning to feel a little better. It wasn’t infected, she thought with relief – that had been a real worry she’d refused to admit to herself the previous day. An infected arm in her condition would really make the task impossible.

 

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