Unnatural (The Unnatural Saga Book 1)

by Jakob Farrar

  Chapter Sixteen

  True Loss

  All of a sudden, Byron saw light. He covered his face with his hands. “W-where am I?” he stuttered.

  “Hurry!” he heard. Byron heard gunshots and helicopter blades. “Get him over here!” called another voice. Byron’s body jolted and rocked, sending aches through his body. Byron heard the roar of fire and water mixed together, an unfamiliar and strange sound.

  Byron’s body was placed on something hard and flat. “Where am I?” he repeated.

  “Byron?” came a voice. A familiar voice.

  “Veronica?” Byron said, blinking his eyes.

  “You’ve been out for a little while. Stephen got you while you were falling. We’re between Sectors Seven and Eight right now, trying to get to Eight. You do remember, right?”

  “Absolutely,” said Byron, blinking his stupor away. He saw Veronica’s face above his. It was close.

  Byron sat up as Mark and Kaytlen approached. “We’ve pushed them back a little bit,” Kaytlen said, “We should be able to go now.”

  Thomas Garek walked into the President’s Mansion. He stopped just as the large iron doors slid shut behind him with a resounding, deep crash. Thomas knew he wouldn’t have to go far; the President was expecting him. “It’s done, sir,” Thomas called into the empty hall that he stood before, “My men have completed the construction of Sector Nine.”

  There was a pause. Thomas wondered if he had been heard at all until the shrill voice came back to him, “Wonderful job, Garek,” Xandar said, “You completed the job much more quickly than I expected. You are to be rewarded. Would you appreciate the position that Williard Poore once held?”

  Thomas knew immediately that he could not take the situation of governor of Sector Six. “No, sir,” Thomas said, “I do not deserve such a position, nor do I think I would be able to be successful in the job should I take it.”

  “And why is that?”

  Should Thomas lie? That probably wasn’t a good idea. The President would know if he did so. “Well, President,” Thomas said, slowly, “I do not think I could do well as the administrator over such a large amount of people, especially in Sector Six.”

  “But that’s not why you refuse my offer,” Xandar’s voice echoed throughout the hall.

  Beads of sweat began to form on Thomas’ forehead. He might as well tell Xandar the truth; he probably knew already.

  “I would like to stay in Sector Nine,” Thomas said, “Perhaps as the governor, or something else. I don’t care, really, I just want to stay there.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I would like to watch over the Unnatural.”

  There was a pause. “I see,” said the President, “Well, you may have your wish. You may govern over Sector Nine, but keep a careful watch on the Unnatural. Do not fail.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Peyton looked over his creation with awe. “It’s even better than I thought it would be,” he whispered to himself, staring at the product that he called Project Zero. His perfect creation.

  “You will be the savior,” he said, running his hand along it, “You will save our Nation, and you will save what is left of this world.”

  Kristine looked over her throne room. It was perfect, a long hall dirt walls fortified by iron that curved upwards into a marvelous dome. This was where a revolution would begin, she knew, and where the world would be saved.

  There was a bang at the door, and screams. Kristine stood, drawing her sword, which was made out of the tooth of an ancient dragon. There came crashes from outside, and a group of guards assembled in defensive positions around her. The crashes soon stopped, but, instead of easing, the tension only seemed to grow.

  “I remember this place,” came a high voice from behind Kristine. She turned around, swinging her sword in the direction of the voice. There was nothing there. “This was my home,” came the voice again. The guards around Kristine all fell, brought down by some mysterious force. The door opened in the front of the room. In walked a single man, his steps slow and deliberate.

  “And that,” he said, pointing at Kristine, “Was my throne.”

  “You,” said Kristine, the grip around her sword tightening.

  “Oh, it’s me,” he said, “In the flesh!” He looked down at his hand, which was yellow and seemed rotten, “Or whatever you call this stuff.” He took a step closer.

  “Don’t come any closer, monster,” Kristine said, showing him her sword.

  “A sword,” he said, not stopping, “A most noble sword that belonged to a warrior of days far past. A warrior I knew personally.”

  “Then you’ll know what the sword is able to do.”

  “Why so aggressive,” the man said, a smile dancing across his already contorted face, “Crystal?”

  Kristine nearly dropped her sword when she heard that name. Her old name. Nobody remembered her by that name, and those who did never used it.

  “Do not call me that,” she said, her voice dropping, “Evan.”

  Evan laughed when she said his old name. “Then we know each other,” Evan said.

  “Why have you come?”

  “Because I wanted to tell you something.”

  “What is it?”

  “You think I oppose you,” Evan said, “You see me as your enemy. Well, fear no longer, I have no interest in demolishing your pitiful outpost yet. In fact, you’re doing exactly what I want here.”

  “And that is?”

  “We are both aware of the Leonic threat, are we not?” Kristine nodded. She knew exactly what Evan spoke of all too well.

  “You’re trying to destroy the Nation I’ve built,” continued Evan, “And I thank you for that.”

  Kristine was shocked. “You want me to destroy your Nation?”

  “Not necessarily. I don’t want you to destroy it, and you never could. You don’t have the might and you’re too focused on tradition, never embracing new ways or technology. I do want there to be war, however, and I do want the Nation to be crippled, perhaps even beyond repair.”

  “And why would you want that?”

  “So that I can get out,” Evan said. He turned and began walking out the door. “Wait!” screamed Kristine, dropping her sword. She ran forward at him, but he was out the door already. The door slammed behind him, and Kristine stopped.

  She turned back and walked back to her throne across the mass of dead soldiers, composing herself. She sat in her throne and began to think of her conversation with Evan.

  She was being played. Kristine was being used by an old…acquaintance as a puppet for his own interests.

  Kristine would not be used like this. Evan may have been right about one thing: she could not destroy the Nation in her current state. However, there was one thing Evan did not know.

  Evan did not know of her plan for the Unnatural.

  The other Unnatural were asleep. They were just outside of Sector Eight’s Boundary. Byron sat awake, as he usually did. He was searching for the next Unnatural. He was inside the minds of every single person in Sector Eight, sorting through them and trying to find the next person to add to their group.

  Suddenly, Byron found it. But…Byron couldn’t see anything from Kyle Hunter’s current perspective. It was night from Kyle’s perspective, but he was behind the group of Unnatural, a fire blazing in front of them. They stood around Byron, who sat on the ground, screaming, a body in his arms, hands covered in blood.

  “Byron?”

  Veronica’s voice snapped Byron’s eyes back open. It was still night, but Byron could tell that he had been gone for several hours.

  “Yes, Veronica?”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  For a moment, Byron’s hopes raised. Was this the moment he had been waiting for years?

  “I lied.” Byron’s hopes then fell. She wasn’t going to tell him what he had hoped.

  “About what?” said Byron.

  “When I said I had to stay in th
e lab, it wasn’t for research.”

  “Then why?”

  “The day before you guys showed up, I was in the lab. I don’t remember exactly what I was doing, but I just remember this man being there all of a sudden. He told me something, and that’s why I wanted to stay.”

  Byron had a feeling that he knew exactly who had spoken with Veronica. “What did this man look like?”

  “Not human,” Veronica said, “He had yellow skin, with claws. His face was misshapen and his eyes were yellow and bloodshot. His voice was high and he always had this grin on his face that unnerved me.”

  “I know of whom you speak.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. We’ve had a few run-ins with him before.”

  “Who is he?”

  “I’m not sure, but I know that he is one with great power. He claims to be the one that had Sector Seven overrun.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain later. What did the man say to you?”

  “He told me something that scared me. I never wanted to leave the laboratory again after what he said. He said that, on the ni-”

  A gunshot went off. Byron jumped up, Veronica behind him. A helicopter touched the ground just a few yards away from their encampment. “Wake the others!” said Byron, “Hurry!”

  Byron shook Mark awake, making him grumble in his sleep, “Wake up, Mark!” Byron pleaded. Next to him, Phoebe awoke, possibly startled by the sudden amount of metal in her vicinity. Phoebe stood slowly, taking in her situation. She reached out to the helicopter, finding the source of its fuel. She broke it open and made a spark with the metal. The resulting explosion sent soldiers flying, but didn’t kill all of them. Phoebe saw Gabe run up to one of the fallen soldiers and grab his gun, absorbing the material. Stephen appeared out of nowhere, kicking a soldier back down after he tried to stand up. Mark stumbled awake, igniting a flame from his lighter and calling it to his hand. For a moment, it seemed like the Unnatural might make it out unharmed.

  Suddenly, Veronica felt something connect with her cheek as she was trying to awake Kaytlen. She fell down, tasting blood in her mouth. She looked up, seeing Kaytlen awake, a soldier with his rifle aimed at her. Veronica screamed and threw herself in front of the soldier just as he pulled the trigger.

  This time, something connected with Veronica’s chest, and it felt like a ten-ton bus going a hundred miles an hour had just smacked her in that precise location. Veronica fell, Kaytlen scrambling from underneath her. The soldier ran as Kaytlen stood. Veronica’s vision blurred. She could feel her heart slowing. She heard Kaytlen scream something, and saw Byron instantly by her side. Veronica felt herself being lifted, but only a little bit. She could hear Byron saying something, but she didn’t care.

  “That man, in the lab,” she coughed. Byron paused, listening, “He t-told me that I-he told me that the night I left the lab-He told me that I would die again.” Veronica’s vision was fading. She knew this feeling all too well, “B-but he also…” Veronica didn’t have the strength to say anything more, “He also told me t-that I…that I…” She couldn’t speak at all now; all she could do was watch.

  She could only watch Byron’s face as she drifted into the all-consuming darkness.

  Drifted deeper.

  And deeper.

  And deeper.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Frankenstein’s Monster

  Peyton couldn’t imagine how quickly his Project had advanced. It was ready to be sent out now; he would have the Unnatural in his possession before the day ended, he hoped.

  Now he stood before Project Zero in its full glory. It was ready for action, and he knew that it would not fail like Project Leon had.

  Peyton had put millions of dollars and countless hours into this Project. Not only that, but he had promised the President that he would have the Unnatural by the time they tried to leave. Now they would not have to worry about being invaded again, and Peyton would be safe.

  And, in that safety, Peyton would be able to find a way back home. Maybe even with his daughter.

  Project Zero opened its eyes for the first time, all three of them. It stared Peyton in the face. “Go,” Peyton said, “You know what you are to do. The Unnatural are in Sector Eight, and will be delayed there for the night. You have until morning to at least split them up. From there, you will be able to capture them easily.”

  The Project didn’t respond. It just walked past Peyton and out the door.

  Peyton stood there, in the lab, watching his creation walk stiffly out of the building. Peyton wondered, then, for the first time, what he had just created. Had he, the brilliant scientist, just created a way to sustain life?

  Or had he just created some kind of monster?

  Byron couldn’t think. All he could do was watch. He could only watch as Veronica slipped out of consciousness, out of life. He could feel her breath slowing and eventually stopping. “No!” he screamed, “You’re not dead! You’re not fooling me again, Veronica, wake up!” He shook her, but to no avail. Veronica was gone; unable to cheat the unbreakable force of death again.

  The others circled around him, but he didn’t care. The only thing he knew was this moment, another time where his memory would be scarred. He knew he wouldn’t be able to put this behind him as he could everything else. This would be a part of him until the day he died.

  Byron laid Veronica’s body on the ground, “I was wrong,” he said. He thought back to his conversation with the strange man on the roof, how he said their quest would only succeed when they tried a different plan, but that Byron would lose the one he once loved again, “I did love somebody.”

  “Byron?” came an unfamiliar voice from behind him. Byron looked back and saw a new face. Behind them was a boy, fifteen at the most. His hair was orange and twisted. He was small, barely five feet high and possessing little to no muscle. Byron had never seen the boy in before in his life, but he knew exactly who he was. “Kyle Hunter,” Byron said. “Sector Eight’s Unnatural.”

  “Yes,” Kyle said, “And you’re Byron Peters, Mark Konners, Phoebe Burton, Stephen Jaxon, Gabriel Ramsey, and Kaytlen Williams.”

  “You’re another telepath,” Mark said, surprised.

  “No,” said both Byron and Kyle at the same time.

  “He’s a premonitionist,” Byron said.

  “A what?” said Mark.

  “A premonitionist,” Byron repeated, “He can see the near future just as well as he can see the present. Am I correct?” Byron said without looking up. Kyle nodded.

  Mark began to say something, but Kyle interrupted. “No,” he said, “I can’t tell that. At least, I can’t tell on purpose. It just…happens. I automatically know what’s going to happen, but I can’t tell what I want to know when I want to know it.”

  Phoebe knelt down next to Byron. “I can feel them coming,” she said, “There’s more helicopters on their way. We need to leave. I’m sorry.” Byron looked up at her, his eyes full of tears.

  “What happened?” he said, “What did I do to deserve all of this?”

  “It’s not your fault,” Phoebe said.

  “It is,” Byron replied, shouting. “I lost her once already. Now I’ve lost my mother. And here I am, holding her again after I pressured her to coming.”

  “If she really wanted to she would have stayed,” Phoebe tried to consul him.

  “Am I supposed to lose everything?” Byron said, his tears spilling over as he sobbed. “No matter how hard I try is this what will always happen?”

  “Byron you’re being too hard on yourself. Now please, we need to go somewhere,” Phoebe said urgently.

  “We can go to a place inside Sector Eight,” Kyle said, “I know my way around pretty well.”

  “Go,” Byron said, “I can’t leave her. Not like this.” He cradled Veronica’s body close to his chest.

  “We’re all going,” Phoebe said.

  “I’ll catch up.”

  “I’ll stay with him,” Mark said, “I
doubt they’ll be able to spot us if it’s just us. I’m sure he’ll be able to tell where to find you guys later on.”

  “You’d better hurry,” Phoebe said. Mark nodded. Phoebe turned to the others and they began to walk away towards Sector Eight.

  Hours later Mark and Byron sat next to each other inside the wreckage of the helicopter. Mark had convinced Byron to leave Veronica’s body as they hid underneath the helicopter’s roof. They hadn’t spoken a word since.

  “I understand,” Mark said, breaking the silence at last.

  “You understand nothing,” Byron said. Mark was silent for a moment, the sarcastic remark punching him in the gut.

  “I’ve lost my family too, probably for good,” Mark replied.

  “At least they’re alive,” Byron said.

  “I don’t know that for sure. Besides, it’s not like my dad’s ever going to come back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My dad left when I was a kid. Just walked out and never came back. It threw my mom into depressive fits and it threw my whole family through a terrible spiral.”

  “My family’s dead, Mark,” Byron said quietly. “I have no clue where my siblings are. I watched my mother die. I watched Veronica die.”

  “I thought I saw Phoebe die,” Mark said, “That’s what it felt like.”

  “But she didn’t. You have some sort of closure, I have nothing. You have a chance to be with Phoebe, but Veronica has been ripped from my life. Nothing is ever going to happen now. I feel like I have been robbed of time. Like someone has stolen years and years of life from me.”

  “All of us have had that stolen. None of us asked for any of this, and we didn’t do anything wrong to deserve it. We’ve all had our futures and dreams taken from us. I had a life in Sector Two, I had my family, I had Caleb as my best friend. I have none of that. But we can rebuild all of this. You want to start a new life outside the Nation, get up and do it.” Byron looked up at Mark. “Come on,” Mark said, standing. “We need to catch up with everyone else.”