by M. D. Massey
I spent the first hour heading back to the Facility, and then I stopped and looked around. What was I running for, anyway? And what was I running to, or from? I sat beneath a tree and sipped some water, and dug around in my bag for something to eat only to find that I’d forgotten to bring food with me. Perfect, just perfect.
I thought hard about what Violet had said, and whether I really was a freak. I’d always known I was different, ever since I’d gone through the changes the serum brought. When you can jump higher, run faster, and see, hear, and smell better than everyone else, it becomes pretty apparent that you’re just not like normal people.
But the serum hadn’t affected me like it had Uncle Tony. I might not have known him well when I was younger, but he had been different back then. Kinder, and more patient. Thoughtful at times, even. I couldn’t help but think that the serum had changed him. Maybe the stuff he’d taken hadn’t been as advanced, so it’d made him less human.
Or maybe it had been the War and what had come after.
Either way, I knew I didn’t want to turn out like him. Yes, I was a lot like Tony in many ways, at least from a physical standpoint. And I was pretty sure Lorena had been “changed” like us, too. But on the rare times that I’d gone out with Uncle Tony and visited other people, it had been pretty obvious that from a moral perspective, I wasn’t like him at all.
I didn’t quite have the stomach for his level of ruthlessness. Because when it came to cold-blooded killing, Uncle Tony could shoot someone in the back and not even blink. It was chilling to watch him work—and I’d seen him at work, a lot.
But truth be told, I’d never enjoyed it.
The thing was, I’d always assumed it was the serum that made me different in every way. And I assumed that because I’d been changed physically, it just followed that I’d be changed mentally and emotionally, too. But after being around Raleigh, and Cinnamon, and everyone else these past few days, I realized that it wasn’t my abilities that made me seem like a freak.
Nope. It was the fact that I’d lost something that made me human. Not because of the serum, but because of how Uncle Tony had raised me. I couldn’t blame it on Lorena, not really. She’d always been there to tell Tony to take it easy on me, to back off, to let me be a kid. But Tony? He was determined to make me into something… else.
I honestly didn’t know what he wanted me to be. A spy? A super soldier? An assassin? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that he wanted me to be all those things. But what it all boiled down to was what I truly was to him.
An asset. I was nothing more than an asset, a means to an end.
Just like Cinnamon.
Coming to that realization hurt. It hurt worse than Violet’s cruel words, it hurt worse than not having my parents around all these years, and it hurt worse than being a stunted, miniaturized version of a normal teenage girl. It made me feel like I didn’t matter, like the one person in the world that I should be able to trust had been using me my whole life.
He had turned me from a kid into a killer.
Even though I didn’t enjoy killing, I didn’t mind it, either—not that much. I supposed that should bother me, and the fact that it didn’t haunted me. And while I should’ve been running back to the Facility to tell Lorena about Uncle Tony so we could start the search for him, right now I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care about him. Besides, I was ninety-nine percent sure he’d escaped, and that he’d left me to fend for myself. Mission before anything else, always—that was Tony’s way.
But the main thing that kept me from running back to the Facility was knowing that as long as I was under Uncle Tony’s thumb, I’d never really figure out who I was, or gain back that piece of me I had lost.
I desperately wanted to find out what it meant to be human again. Maybe make a difference, like I had with Raleigh and those kids. I decided I’d go back and train with Don Paco soon, but first I wanted to spend some time on my own to sort things out.
I remembered my dream and what Tony had said about the man they were looking for, about him being a killer—a killer with a conscience.
That sounded like the perfect description for someone who could help me figure out how to get that human part of me back again. Anyone who’d been through a human war, the Great War, and eight years of the apocalypse with their humanity intact had to know something about what it meant to be part of the human race.
The only problem was, I didn’t have a clue where I could find him. I only knew his name and that he worked as a hunter for the settlements west of here. Well, it’s a start.
I checked my bearings and took off, heading northwest at a steady pace. With any luck, I’d reach one of the safe zone settlements later that day and start asking around to see if anyone knew where I could find this Scratch guy.
Sorry, Uncle Tony. But I have to figure out who I am, and the only way I can do that is by staying away from you.
Later that day, I ran over a rise that dropped off sharply right at the crest. I was still woozy from my head injury, and never saw the drop off until my foot hit thin air and I was falling down the hill.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. As I tumbled and slid down the slope, I saw what waited for me at the bottom. It was a herd of deaders, standing around in a holding pattern and just waiting for some dumbass like me to stumble headlong into them. Even before I was halfway down, a few registered my presence and started moaning to alert the others. Already they shuffled for the bottom of the hill, and I was about to land right in the middle of them.
I spread eagled my body to slow my descent, sliding to a halt almost upright. I hit the ground and took off at a sprint with hundreds of deaders on my tail. They were slower than I was, but I was tired and still not fully recovered. Losing them was going to be a real struggle.
I holstered my pistol, tightened the straps on my crossbow, and took off through the trees and brush, hoping I could outrun them in the woods ahead.
EPILOGUE
I’ve been running for what—hours? Days? It’s hard to think clearly right now. Every time I think I’ve lost them and I stop to rest, more of them show up. I’m almost out of ammo, and I’m down to just a few crossbow bolts. I haven’t eaten since I left the farm, and I’ve barely had time to fill my water bottles in the creeks and streams I’ve passed along the way.
I think I see a trailer up ahead. Maybe I can climb on top and catch some sleep and rest while I figure out how to get rid of Them.
I’ve been stuck on top of this trailer for two days. After I climbed up here, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the area around the trailer was crawling with deaders. I guess I must’ve been snoring or talking in my sleep.
I’m almost out of water again and I haven’t eaten in days. Some badass hunter I turned out to be. I should’ve just headed back to the Facility.
I think I hear someone coming. They’re quiet, but I can still hear them moving through the brush. Better not be punters, or I’m screwed. I’m going to load a bolt in my crossbow and get ready to run, just in case they draw some of these deaders off me.
My unexpected visitor saved my life. He’s good. I watched him take out three deaders like it was nothing, but I had to shoot a fourth one to keep him from getting bitten.
I had planned to run as soon as I got a clear path away from the trailer, but then I saw his face. He’s kind of cute for a middle-aged guy, even with all those scars. Turns out he’s the guy from my dream—the one Uncle Tony and Lorena have been looking for all this time. I’m almost sure of it.
Maybe somebody upstairs is watching out for me after all. Could be that Mama and Papa are praying a novena for me, way up there in heaven. Or maybe it’s just coincidence.
Either way, I don’t know many people who would stick their necks out to save someone they’d never met. If it had been Uncle Tony and I was a stranger, I’d still be up on that roof. So maybe he is something special.
Anyway, I think I’m supposed t
o help him. Maybe that’s how I’m going to learn to be a normal person again. I guess I’m sticking around for a while to see what this Scratch guy is all about. Should be interesting.
This concludes THEM: Gabby’s Run… but
Scratch’s story will continue in the next novel!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M.D. Massey resides in Austin, Texas, where he hangs out with his enormous American bulldog while he writes the kind of stories that he likes to read. Find out more and get FREE bonus material at:
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