The Runners

Loss

I stand on the cliff edge watching the spotlights in the distance, I reach into my pocket and pull out my flask and take a swig, calming my shaking hands. The adrenaline and ethanol balancing me out. "Let's get out of here, they're gonna be searching for us," Ries says as he wipes his gun down with a rag.

"Yeah, your right, let's get outta here," I say. As we walk to the Rv I call out to ren. "Hey, I think you forgot something." I hold out my hand, waiting for my lighter.

"Shit, sorry bout that," he says handing me my lighter back, I nod and put it back in my breast pocket.

"Move your asses guys, I dont like being this close to the base!" Sovetsky shouts leaning out of the Rv. we head into the Rv and settle down. I sit down on the couch and relax, finally being able to breathe easy, at least for the time being.

I look around at the others. Rens sitting at the table, eating the sugar crystals he pulled from nowhere. Ries is also sitting at the table, staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the cut over his eyebrow. And Sovetsky is sitting at the wheel, playing rock music to focus on the road ahead.

I lie my head back and try to fall asleep, taking a sip of gin to help.

I get a text, it's from my mother. A knot of dread forms in the pit of my stomach. I open it. "Hey Tome, come to the outpost near the mill, we have a gift for you."

Something about this seems familiar, I just can't put my finger on it though. "Be right there." I send it back.

I stand in front of the place I call home, it doesn't feel like it though. I open the door to the warehouse, the door creaks horribly.

A smell emanates from deeper inside of the warehouse as soon as I step inside, a scent Im all too familiar with. Death. It's strong, even from far away I can smell it easily

"No, something not right, something is wrong," I say a bit panicked. I dont know why but everything just feels wrong, like the calm before the storm.

The pit in my stomach drops continually as I walk towards the door the smells coming from.

I put my hand on the door and everything seems calm, like im in the eye of the storm. I twist the knob and open the door, not knowing what to expect on the other side.

The door swings open and reveals a sight that shocks me to my core, I almost dont believe what I see. Dawn, kneeling and hunched over. I break into a sprint towards her. I know what happened, they did this to get to me.

As I run towards Dawn someone tries to get in my way, a few moments after he tries he's lying on the floor gasping for breath, I punched him in the throat, crushing his trachea.

I stand next to her, she's been gone for what seems only minutes. What sickens me the most is the fact she was flayed, and her ribs cracked from behind and formed a pair of wings, with her lungs, draped over them. She was alive through all of it, only dying shortly after.

"Why?" I whisper more to myself than anyone else. Before anyone could say anything, "Why the fuck did you do this!" I scream.

I collapse to my knees and start repeating "Why" to myself over and over again. None of them move, not a soul dares to poke the bear.

After a minute of me sitting there, I go quiet. I stand up slowly, in front of me is a table of the tools used to kill her. my gaze switches back and forth between them. I reach out and close her eyes, "Be at peace." I say with little emotion in my voice. I rest my hand on the table and I see it shaking.

I only now realize that this whole time She had been talking to me as if I was a petulant toddler who had broken their favorite toy. "Bring him to me." I hear my mother say. 

I feel a hand on my shoulder, it tries to pull me away, away from dawn. "Dont you fucking touch me!" I bellow as I instinctively grab a knife off the table and slash towards the person trying to pull me away.

They stand there in shock grasping at their neck as blood pours out of it. Everyone stands still, staring at what just happened.

"Dont just stand there, Bring him to me!" She shouts, almost in tandem, everyone turns to look at me. They ready their weapons, gearing to fight me.