Subject A250: The Flame (COMPLETED)

Twenty-Six: Outnumbered

A/N: The next couple of chapters (including this one) are going to be a little shorter, but they're action-packed, I promise.

"Shuck it, shuck it, shuck it," Trace muttered, still sprinting as fast as she could. The ute was gaining on her, and fast. There was no way to avoid it. Try as she might, Trace could not run faster than a moving car. Either they'd run her down from behind, or she'd have to fight them off.

Or she could dig herself into the ground at an impossible speed and hide there, allowing them to drive over her, completely unaware of her presence. She could live there, invisible to the world, starting anew as mole person, occupying the land beneath the Scorch. A soul of the soil. A soil soul.

That last plan was highly unlikely to work considering they'd definitely already seen her, and were heading straight towards her, and most probably wanted to kill her, not give up and drive back.

Hiding wasn't an option, and running wasn't working. Trace was going to have to fight them. All nine of them.

"Here we go," she muttered, turning around to face the group.

It was a good thing she did, because, to Trace's surprise, the van was mere seconds away from hitting her. She had to dive out of the way, only just clearing the vehicle as it passed over the ground she'd just been standing on. If she'd turned a second later, she'd be dead.

"That was a bit close," she murmured.

The ute stopped immediately and the five men riding on the back of it jumped down, edging towards her. None of them said a word; they just stared at her, eyes unblinking, through their signature black balaclavas. They moved slowly, stepping in perfect unison.

Even with her life in imminent danger, Trace had to admire their style. They were like a creepy, gothic boyband.

"Get back!" she yelled. "I know karate!"

Trace did not know karate, nor did she know why she'd decided to shout that she did. She didn't believe she'd ever known karate, and even if she did know it, Trace doubted it would come in handy right now. Two of these guys were brandishing baseball bats, two had hammers and one held a brick. A brick.

Trace didn't really think he was planning to do much building out here either. There wouldn't be much of a market for houses out here. Too scorchy.

"You heard me!" she urged. "Get back. I'll kill you all!"

A low laugh sounded out, muffled from behind the mask of one of the men. Trace didn't really know how to respond to the situation, so she laughed too, pretending to understand the joke. She thought maybe if she played along with these psychos, they'd let her go.

She was wrong.

The guy with the brick started swinging.

Trace ducked to avoid him and one of the others instantly came at her with the baseball bat. She jumped back and out of the way, narrowly escaping a blow to the ribs. As the man reared his bat back again, she leaped forward and struck him with her knife, intercepting his swing.

The man dropped the bat and fell to the ground, grasping at his throat, trying to stop the blood from pouring. She'd definitely hit her target.

A solid blow to her back knocked her to the ground as the other baseball-bat-wielder snuck up on her. Trace rolled onto her back, only to see the bat coming towards her again. She kept rolling, sticking her knife out to slice at the ankles of the nearest man. She made contact and he tried to leap away, but Trace had grabbed one of his ankles, causing him to trip and fall to the ground. She shuffled forward to grab his weapon as it fell. The hammer.

Baseball bat guy came for her again, so she drove her knife into the man on the ground, burying it in his chest to make sure he was dead. Then, just as quickly, she swung the hammer around, clipping the baseball holder across the knees with it. He screamed out in pain.

Then it was Trace's turn to yell out as she felt a strong blow to her leg. The brick. Now she could honestly say she'd felt like she'd been hit with a brick. Trace grimaced, knowing how much more that would hurt once the adrenaline wore off.

She flipped over and kicked at the guy holding the brick, completely missing him, despite the fact that that move had played out perfectly in her mind. In fact, a lot of things played out much better in her mind than they seemed to in real life.

She was faintly aware of the rest of the group stepping out of the ute, coming for her now. All four of them had exited the vehicle, moving to join the other three remaining men. Trace was severely outnumbered, and learning to clone herself within the next few seconds was going to prove a little difficult, so there was very little she could do to balance the odds.

Trace wriggled away, freeing herself a little from the group, gaining some space. They seemed to be taking turns, not all wanting to attack her at once. She was grateful to have a little time to think, even if it allowed her to run through all the possible ways they could kill her.

Trace shuddered.

A hammer, a baseball bat, and a brick. She didn't even want to see what the newcomers had brought with them.

But she did see what they'd left behind.

A car. Completely empty.

It was a beautiful day for a drive.