Robert noted.
“I don’t care if he can talk. He sure as hell can lie there and listen,” McNair said, keeping his gun pointed directly at him.
The creature’s eyes sprang open, then they narrowed as he took us in. No doubt, just like his more fashionable brothers, he’d been taught to see us as vermin. His face turned an alarming shade of red and sweat appeared on his brow as he attempted to sit up, blowing air from his nostrils like some wild animal ready to attack.
“Why can’t he move?” Henry asked.
“’Cause right after we shot his friends in the head, I got this one here in the stomach,” Eric bragged.
He was right. A blotch of red was slowly taking over the chosen one’s shirt.
“That won’t keep him down for long,” Robert said. “He’ll fight through it. That’s the way we’re trained—to deal with pain. Once he’s gathered his senses, he’ll fight till he bleeds to death.”
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I’ll shoot him in the head before that happens,” Eric snapped. “All your scientific enhancements can’t deter a bullet from ripping apart your brain. You abnorms are flesh and blood, after all. No matter what the brochure says.”
“That’s why they don’t want your kind having guns. A direct shot to the head will take out one of the abnorms. And without the abilities, the gun levels the playing field slightly,” added McNair.
“Then just shoot him now,” Henry replied, his face twisting in repugnance.
“Hey! You! Can you speak?” McNair yelled at the struggling thing. Tears streamed down the creature’s face as he fought against the pain in order to fulfill his duty—to eradicate any natural he came across, that much was clear. If the creators could make something like this and let it live, then they no longer worried about making us feel safe. The beauty of the chosen ones was meant to put us at ease. Nothing about the appearance of this thing would leave anyone feeling calm. This was a weapon of war. Not a God sent from the heavens to protect the poor, defenseless mortals.
This was truly a weapon of mass destruction.
An unintelligible string of grunts issued from the creature’s mouth. “Maybe Robert’s right,” I said. “If the war between the easterners and us is as bad as you say, then this is merely a soldier. Why would they give him the ability to talk? He won’t be able to tell us anything. You’re wasting your time.”
“Wasting our time? Do you want to know what he and his friends did to Jones while McNair and I tried to take him down?” Eric said slowly. “It wasn’t a quick kill. They yanked his arms from their sockets. Can you even imagine what that sounds like?” He shut his eyes, forcing away some image I didn’t want to see. “Then one of them picked him up by his legs and hit him against a tree over and over and over again, like he was a damn baseball bat!” Eric snarled
I gulped.
“I’m gonna make this last, sweetie,” Eric promised.
“Damn right,” Henry growled. “He deserves a slow death.”
Robert sighed and crouched down next to the chosen one. And the man stopped writhing. They simply stared at each other, then Robert removed his jacket and placed it over the man’s wound. “Do you understand me?” he asked gently.
The man’s eyes widened and he gave a small nod.
“Good. If it’s all right, I’m going to ask some questions. Are you from the compound about a few days’ journey from here?”
Again, the man nodded.
“Were the rest of your brothers…like you?”
The man’s eyes shifted from Robert’s face and stared up into the sky. He shook his head.
“Were some of them like you?” Robert amended.
Nod.
“Are the easterners getting closer?” Henry said. “Why did you desert the compound? We saw what you did to all those people, you sick bastard!”
And I remembered that it was only days ago that we both sat by and watched another die.
The girl. A natural.
“You know he can’t answer
“I don’t care if he can talk. He sure as hell can lie there and listen,” McNair said, keeping his gun pointed directly at him.
The creature’s eyes sprang open, then they narrowed as he took us in. No doubt, just like his more fashionable brothers, he’d been taught to see us as vermin. His face turned an alarming shade of red and sweat appeared on his brow as he attempted to sit up, blowing air from his nostrils like some wild animal ready to attack.
“Why can’t he move?” Henry asked.
“’Cause right after we shot his friends in the head, I got this one here in the stomach,” Eric bragged.
He was right. A blotch of red was slowly taking over the chosen one’s shirt.
“That won’t keep him down for long,” Robert said. “He’ll fight through it. That’s the way we’re trained—to deal with pain. Once he’s gathered his senses, he’ll fight till he bleeds to death.”
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I’ll shoot him in the head before that happens,” Eric snapped. “All your scientific enhancements can’t deter a bullet from ripping apart your brain. You abnorms are flesh and blood, after all. No matter what the brochure says.”
“That’s why they don’t want your kind having guns. A direct shot to the head will take out one of the abnorms. And without the abilities, the gun levels the playing field slightly,” added McNair.
“Then just shoot him now,” Henry replied, his face twisting in repugnance.
“Hey! You! Can you speak?” McNair yelled at the struggling thing. Tears streamed down the creature’s face as he fought against the pain in order to fulfill his duty—to eradicate any natural he came across, that much was clear. If the creators could make something like this and let it live, then they no longer worried about making us feel safe. The beauty of the chosen ones was meant to put us at ease. Nothing about the appearance of this thing would leave anyone feeling calm. This was a weapon of war. Not a God sent from the heavens to protect the poor, defenseless mortals.
This was truly a weapon of mass destruction.
An unintelligible string of grunts issued from the creature’s mouth. “Maybe Robert’s right,” I said. “If the war between the easterners and us is as bad as you say, then this is merely a soldier. Why would they give him the ability to talk? He won’t be able to tell us anything. You’re wasting your time.”
“Wasting our time? Do you want to know what he and his friends did to Jones while McNair and I tried to take him down?” Eric said slowly. “It wasn’t a quick kill. They yanked his arms from their sockets. Can you even imagine what that sounds like?” He shut his eyes, forcing away some image I didn’t want to see. “Then one of them picked him up by his legs and hit him against a tree over and over and over again, like he was a damn baseball bat!” Eric snarled
I gulped.
“I’m gonna make this last, sweetie,” Eric promised.
“Damn right,” Henry growled. “He deserves a slow death.”
Robert sighed and crouched down next to the chosen one. And the man stopped writhing. They simply stared at each other, then Robert removed his jacket and placed it over the man’s wound. “Do you understand me?” he asked gently.
The man’s eyes widened and he gave a small nod.
“Good. If it’s all right, I’m going to ask some questions. Are you from the compound about a few days’ journey from here?”
Again, the man nodded.
“Were the rest of your brothers…like you?”
The man’s eyes shifted from Robert’s face and stared up into the sky. He shook his head.
“Were some of them like you?” Robert amended.
Nod.
“Are the easterners getting closer?” Henry said. “Why did you desert the compound? We saw what you did to all those people, you sick bastard!”
And I remembered that it was only days ago that we both sat by and watched another die.
The girl. A natural.
“You know he can’t answer
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