by E S Richards
She also realised that he must be fairly advanced to have such an aggressive mutation and her memories of him mutated themselves at the thought. If he was a more developed mutant like he must be, then there was less chance that everything he was doing for her was to help her and more chance it was part of a trick like she’d originally suspected. This filled Zahyra with sadness, but she knew she had to at least find Cain to garner more of an explanation from him when he turned back to normal. If he turned back to normal…
She slowly rose to her feet and set out to find him, deciding that if he was still exhibiting this display of rage she would just hide out and watch him until he calmed down. Depending on how long that took. Making her way through the long grass of the playground Zahyra almost stumbled over the small fence that surrounded it. It was so hidden beneath the weeds that she walked right into it, causing her to curse quietly underneath her breath.
After climbing over it she turned left and started walking adjacent to the alleyway Cain had continued to run down. She had no idea how she would find him in the city, not knowing whether he would have stopped when he couldn’t find her or continued running around like a madman.
The sun was now beating down above her with a vengeance and Zahyra clung to the few shadows she could find as a source of shade. She was also aware that there was probably still a hunting party out looking for her. Her spirits were low as she meandered through several streets surrounding where she’d last seen Cain and pretty soon she had lost all sense of direction. Each new building while amazing Zahyra with their designs looked remarkably similar, so it was very hard to keep track of which street she’d walked down and which she hadn’t.
After about twenty minutes the heat from the sun was becoming too much for her and she rounded a corner looking for a building she could hide out in until midday dusk took hold. Taking in the scene around the corner Zahyra instantly froze where she stood, her mouth hanging open in surprise.
On the ground lay seven dead bodies belonging to the mutants Cain had killed in his attack earlier. The blood surrounding them was congealed and thick, creating deep pools of the crimson liquid. In horror Zahyra noticed that all that blood had only come from two of the mutants who lay beside the pools with their throats slashed. The other five mutants appeared to have all been killed by blunt force trauma to the head, as a result of fighting with Cain one-on-one. Walking around them Zahyra thought one of them looked to be only a year or two older than she was. She gasped in horror as she saw one side of his skull was caved in, the impact looking like it had resulted from a single punch.
Knowing that Cain could inflict that much damage with his bare hands terrified Zahyra. She had trusted him, slept in the same room as him and eaten countless meals by his side. Not once during all those times did she imagine him being able to kill someone with a single punch. What was his mutation and why had he not told her about it? She felt jaded and unprotected; surely knowing about what Cain was would have done her a favour in their most recent encounter.
Staggering backwards away from the bodies Zahyra walked into a ruined car behind her and fell to the ground. Her ribs twinged in pain from the impact against the ground and tears started to well up in her eyes. She wasn’t crying from the pain alone, but from the waves of death she continued to witness in this city.
In total Cain had now killed ten men on their quest to save her brother, if you included the mutant he had shot when they first met. She had resolved earlier to accept the killings and she knew in the end they would be worth it when she was reunited with Asher. But at that moment in time she simply couldn’t see it and with tears now streaming down her face she ran into the nearest building and sunk to the floor inside.
Sleep must have found her as she sat hidden in the abandoned building as when a noise woke her it was midday dusk outside and she had to squint into the darkness of the room. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she recognised where she was as an old shop of some description. Aisles were laid out in front of her that looked familiar from old pictures she’d seen when she was younger.
Zahyra slowly rose to her feet, her ribs thankfully feeling a little better after the rest. Her stomach then gave off a ferocious growl and she put a hand on it, realising how hungry she was. Looking around the room she decided she would check it out to see if anything useful remained that she could use, or eat. She crouched low as she walked between the aisles, conscious that someone could be nearby.
The first item she came across was a pile of papers fastened together by some very old string that looked like if she touched it would disintegrate. Moving past these as they were no use to her Zahyra continued her search.
Disappointingly most of the items she found were equally as useless to her: a hollow glass circle with some wires inside, some big black boxes she couldn’t identify and many other items she did not recognise. As she was slowly losing hope and considering leaving to continue her search for Cain she accidentally kicked something that rolled off down the aisle in front of her. Reaching it Zahyra discovered it was an old tin, which undoubtedly meant food of some description. The label read ‘tinned peaches’ and she greedily tore off the lid and began to scoop out the insides with her hand.
After the first mouthful she mentally took back everything she’d previously said about disliking tinned foods. The peaches were filled with a sweet juice that dribbled down her chin and onto her sweater. Involuntarily Zahyra’s tongue protruded out of her mouth licking her lips and chin trying to savour every mouthful. She scarfed down each peach at record speed then drained the can of its remaining liquids, running her tongue again around the sharp edges in an attempt to devour every last drop.
Once she was finished she sat back on her heels. That was the most delicious thing she’d eaten in days, only a few points behind the wild dog she’d had at Cain’s hut. Zahyra spent the next five minutes crawling around on her hands and knees searching for another supply of tinned peaches but sadly found nothing more she could eat and was forced to give up.
Wiping the dust from her clothes that had accumulated from her crawling around Zahyra got to her feet knowing whilst it was midday dusk outside she needed to continue her search for Cain. Now she was effectively back where they had started a few hours ago – close to the horrible display of dead bodies outside – Zahyra could at least retrace the route she had ran to get away from Cain only a few hours before.
Doing a sweep of the streets before she exited the building, although only very quickly glancing over the dead bodies Zahyra declared that there was no one around and she could step outside. She hurriedly walked away from the mess behind her and down the street she had originally watched Cain start his attack from. Reaching the alleyway again she veered left and started to walk, although she could see from the start that is was unoccupied as it had been earlier.
She walked slowly past the bin she had used to climb over the wall and into the playground, her mind drifting fondly back to the thought of playing there with Asher one day. At the end of the alleyway there was a street Zahyra didn’t recognise and she realised she must have missed it earlier due to climbing into the playground. Her eyes scanned up and down the street looking for some indication of which direction to go. Each way looked exactly the same until she noticed an overturned car just to her right that didn’t look like it’d been that way for very long. The dust and dirt was unsettled unlike on the other cars and Zahyra grasped that it must have been overturned very recently, almost undoubtedly by Cain. Turning on her heel she headed off towards the right, hoping for more indicators of Cain’s whereabouts.
It only took her about five minutes until she spotted him. He looked to be asleep in an entranceway to one of the buildings, one of his arms tucked under his head like a pillow. Zahyra stood and stared at Cain for a while, unsure of what to do or how to react. She had no idea whether he was back to his normal self or not and didn’t know what would happen if she woke him.
After a while she decided to take shelter
in the building opposite him, climbing in through a broken window and finding an old, barely standing chair for her to sit on. She quickly scouted around the room when she entered, but it just seemed to consist of more chairs and big tables with electronic devices on them. Uninterested she returned her focus to Cain.
His sleeping body looked so peaceful as she watched him, it was almost unimaginable that he could turn into such a violent mutant at the drop of a hat. His beard that had just been stubble when she first met him was now bushy and untamed, his clothes were dirty – as were hers Zahyra noticed – and his face was covered in a mixture of dirt and blood as well. Still despite the blood that was present on his appearance Cain could have just been any normal man. It was a shame that Zahyra now knew he wasn’t, and viewed him in a very different light because of it.
About half an hour later, Cain’s leg twitched and he began to stir…
Chapter 13
Suspense gripped Zahyra’s heart as she wondered what Cain would be like when he came to. She sat dead still and watched him stretch, yawn then look around himself with a confused and dazed expression. He then jumped to his feet and turned to walk inside the building behind him. He looked inside, walked out and then did the same with the other two buildings either side. A look of panic started to spread across his face as he ran his fingers slowly through his hair and then rested them behind his head.
To Zahyra he seemed to be acting completely normal. He was panicked and stressed out – over what she didn’t know – but aside from that he was definitely his normal self. There was no hidden aggression or violence in his eyes and his body language reflected more regret than anger.
Knowing that she had to confront him, Zahyra took three deep breaths to prepare herself and as quietly as she could rose from her chair and climbed back out of the broken window. Cain had gone into another building whilst she left hers and she waited cautiously for him to reappear and notice her.
“Zahyra!” Cain exclaimed when he saw her and ran across the street to where she stood. Zahyra remained still, but poised herself to flee in any direction if necessary. Cain stopped a few feet in front of her and looked into her eyes.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he started, “I can explain…”
Zahyra stared at him for a while, not saying anything. He seemed so normal now and very apologetic for what had happened, but she just couldn’t understand it. Nothing she thought of made sense.
“What happened?” She asked slowly, still not one hundred per cent trusting of the situation, or the man in front of her.
“Not here,” Cain replied, “let’s get somewhere a little more hidden, okay?”
Zahyra nodded and started to follow him as he began to walk down the street. They walked for about half an hour, naturally Zahyra didn’t have a clue where they were going but really had no choice but to follow Cain. The buildings around them started getting smaller and less impressive, however Zahyra also noted that they seemed less run down than the ones she’d grown accustomed to.
As they walked she wondered about what Cain was going to say to her about his – what could she call it? – his outburst. Although that really didn’t warrant how extreme it had been. She knew it had to be a result of his mutation, but had never even heard of mutations that caused people to completely lose control of themselves.
The way he’d chased after her like there was nothing he wanted to do more than rip her apart had entirely changed the way she thought of Cain. Sadly she wasn’t sure if she could ever manage to completely trust him as a result.
Cain led her to a small patch of green in front of one of the buildings they passed. It looked like it had been a quaint family home at one time, wild flowers bloomed in front of it and a few old children’s toys were visible through the dusty front window. Zahyra wondered why mutants didn’t still live in houses like these, but as the mutations had torn families apart they had also broken down many aspects of civilisation and caused people to revert back to a simpler life.
Now sitting amongst the long grass Zahyra looked expectantly at Cain, unsure of how he was possibly going to rationalise what had just happened.
“I’m Gen 4,” Cain began but was instantly cut off by Zahyra gasping and shuffling backwards where she sat. A look of horror etched across her face. She had kind of expected him to say something like that, but the truth of it hit her hard.
“I’m not an animal though,” Cain continued, “although what happened earlier might have made me seem that way. I swear, I’m not like all the other mutants.”
Zahyra remained silent, unsure of what she wanted to say in response to that so Cain continued.
“The mutation I have is formally called MATH – mutated adult testosterone hormones. I don’t really understand what that means but from what I’ve learned it’s some chemical that makes men extremely aggressive and violent. I think the chemical levels are based on what a mature man would carry, but obviously amplified to the extreme.”
Cain looked at Zahyra to see if she was going to ask him anything but she was simply staring at him, looking over every inch of his body.
“It basically makes me angry all the time and I have this overwhelming desire to break things, hit things, sometimes even kill things… But I can kind of control it. I’ve never heard of anyone like me who can do this and I manage to control it most of the time. You know me; I’m not normally an aggressive person. It’s just, when I’m in really stressful situations or I’m in a fight sometimes it takes over and I lose control of myself.
“When I’m angry I just see red and something snaps and I can’t tell the difference between good and bad. Everything just… I just get consumed with rage. Then eventually I can fight back, kind of inside myself you know? And I can regain control. But when I’m like that… I’m just not safe. But I’m also not myself. Zahyra you have to know that I would never hurt you. It wasn’t me that came after you earlier today. Well it was me, but not the me I am inside. You have to believe me. I’m so, so sorry.”
Zahyra continued to stare at Cain, almost in disbelief after everything he’d just told her. That was without a doubt the most she’d ever heard him say before and that was enough to shock her to begin with, let alone the information of what he’d actually said. She remained silent, mulling over every detail.
To begin with, he was a Gen 4. They were some of the most powerful mutants around and she was sitting just a few feet away from one of them. However he certainly wasn’t like any Gen 4 she had experienced recently, nor like any she’d ever heard of for that matter.
The fact he could control his mutation most of the time and was, at that very moment, controlling it in front of her meant that he was different. But beneath all of that he was a monster. He could snap at any moment and turn into the killing machine she’d experienced earlier. How could she trust that she’d be safe around him anymore knowing that? Maybe if he could learn to control it all the time that would make a difference, but he was effectively a walking time bomb just waiting to explode.
The fact that he’d kept this huge secret from Zahyra for over a week was one of the things she hated the most. Although she also hated herself for thinking that, because she was keeping a very similar secret from Cain.
In reality she realised her main issue was that Cain could control himself sometimes and then other times not. She had no way to know when something was going to cause him to lose focus. She didn’t even know how often things like this happened. She’d only known him for little over a week. What if his rage taking over was a frequent thing? And if stressful situations brought it out what happened if he had another outburst when they were trying to save Asher? There was no chance in hell she was letting her little brother be exposed to Cain like that.
But then… what was Asher being exposed to right now? There were only five and a half days until his tenth birthday and the ensuing Turning Age Ceremony. After that he could be killed, turned into a slave or forced into some kind of insane mutant army.
&nb
sp; Pushing her scepticism about Cain to the back of her mind Zahyra knew that Asher was her number one priority. She had to save him and there was no chance of her doing that alone. Like it or not she needed Cain, even if she couldn’t trust him. She was had to be okay with this.
Looking up from the grass beneath her Zahyra noticed Cain was staring at her, waiting for her to say something. There had been several long, drawn out minutes of silence since he had explained his mutation to her, but now she really needed to give him an answer. All her thoughts seemed jumbled up in her head as she searched for what was the most pressing matter she needed to address.
How did he control himself? How often would he break down? What should she do if he did break down again? Was there any way to stop it and bring him back? Was she really safe?
Suddenly questions overflowed her brain as she thought about Asher again. How much longer would it take them to reach him? How would they get him out? Was he okay?
Cain’s voice cut through her thoughts, although she didn’t catch what he said so she raised her eyebrows instead in question.
“You okay?” He asked again, a look of real concern fixed on his face.
“I,” Zahyra began, frantically trying to figure out what she wanted to say to Cain. “Does it happen often?”
Cain instantly shook his head, “No, no, hardly ever. Not out of the blue like that at least. Once a month I take off for a few days and deliberately let it out, but I always try to be as far away from anyone else as possible before that happens. I never want to hurt anyone. I’ve had a few episodes like earlier today where I’ve snapped, but not on more than three or four other occasions.”
This relaxed Zahyra a little bit, knowing it wasn’t something that happened every weekend. But she was still very aware a huge threat to her safety was sitting right in front of her.
