Cherish Red ✔️

Chapter Seven

~ Highway Skies ~

Red stared at the forest-like land around them. She wanted to ask Dad how long this trip would be, but she couldn't say anything. She tried to sleep in a curled up position, but she just couldn't for some reason. Red did notice that her nonbiological dad did smile at her, but it didn't last long. Before she could blink, he was cold-faced again.

All she could do now to pass the time was look at the stars and follow the North Star. Red realized she had heard that phrase before, but one of the scientists said it was a "legend" and a "myth". She didn't understand though: the star was right there. Something that was right in front of her wasn't lies, what it? Or was it some kind of false manipulation caused by a drug or substance?

Mr. Henderson seemed to understand her thoughts and said "Remember Red... stars aren't myths. They exist. Lots of them do. Constellations aren't legends either, like that one idiot thought. They're stories made of orbs."

Red blinked, and wanted to ask "What kind of stories?"

But she couldn't. Suddenly, she began to shake violently. Before Red knew it, she was on the grassy ground and back to normal. Mr. Henderson glanced, but continued to go on with his lecture about constellations and such. She jumped up and ran to catch up with her Dad, who was speed-walking.

When she finally caught up, Red asked "Orbs? Don't ya mean stars? And I don't see any words: how the hell do they tell a story?"

"No, no!" Mr. Henderson answered. "Not all stories have words, Red! I-"

"Okay, do you want to explain it to me then?"

"Yes, yes. I will. We still have a few days until we arrive-"

"A few days?!"

"Yes, about three days according to Mrs. Google Maps on my watch."

"I hope she's wrong," Red spat. "I'll be dead before we even-"

BANG!

BANG!

"Two shots fired!" Yelled a womanly voice from a bush. Mr. Henderson and Red luckily didn't get hit. The voice spoke again. "General, I think they've spotted us!"

There was another voice, this time sounding like a male twenty-nine year old. "Don't think about that! Just shoot, and we'll take the man!"

"What do we do with the kid?"

"We'll think about that later! Just fire more shots before they run away, Linda!"

"Okay, okay! I'm shooting-"

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

"Get out of here, Red!" Mr. Henderson shouted. One of the shots just barely scraped his chest. Red panicked: this time she HAD to go! Maybe I can be free from whatever he plans to do to me! Red thought. Yes! But I can't... he saved me from the lab, right - no! He didn't! He made you like this!

She grabbed her head and growled. What was she supposed to do? Just leave him there? The one person who gave her clothes to protect the one thing she hated about herself? He-

BANG!

BANG!

"One down!" The General said into a radio. "Now get the kid! We can't have no witnesses!"

"It's a WAR though, General Adams!" The woman cried out. "She is just a kid after all! She won't-"

"Don't be fucking stupid, Linda!" He hissed. "Everyone believes a kid! Now go-"

"She's gone, General."

"What?!"

"I said she's gone, General! We-"

"We aren't just going to just let 'er go like that!"

"We might as well head back to the bunker. It's one kid: thousands are dead already, so what does it matter?"

"Fine. But the next time this happens, we CATCH the kid. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

_______________ ______________________ _______________

~ On the Highway ~

Red limped across the rocky pavement. She heard one last gunshot and then someone shout "one down". Was her Dad dead? She had no idea. He could be, but was most likely lying on the ground and trying to perverse what life he had left. Her "Dad" could be dead right now, and she just ran away like a coward. Red sighed and stopped walking. She went limp and fell to her knees. Her kneecaps got a bit scraped up, but it didn't matter: her Dad was gone somewhere, and she couldn't do anything.

It was all her fault. Again.

She looked at the road. It looked abounded, but she remembered a female scientist telling her there would be "traffic jams" and cars constantly bumping or crashing into one another. But there wasn't any of that. Just one faded yellow line and some dust. Red sat there and began to not cry, but make sort of a whimpering sound. When Jixi died, it was her first time crying: and she hated it. But before she was teased by some of the other experiments and was called an "emotionless bot" and "heartless".

But she never actually realized how much those words would sting now: Red used to think it was cool. That she didn't have to deal with any negative feelings other than anger. That she could tease them instead when they cried or were distraught. But now she could hear their laughter in her head.

Aw, look who's crying now.

Check this freak out.

This is what you get and deserve!

Oh, boo-hoo. We felt the same way and you -

Laughed.

Red gasped.

The last word sounded demonic. It sounded like her. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was an emotionless bastard who laughed at other's misfortune. A possible orphan who could've had some sort of future at the lab: who knows, maybe she could've worked as a scientist too! Or she would've been killed; maybe that would've been better. Mr. Henderson could've taken someone else instead.

The most likely was that she'd be experimented on more and more until she didn't even resemble a human anymore. Not like she ever was anyway. The cycle would repeat until she ended up like the others: a mess of blood, that black substance, and whatever else could've been in there. Claws, eyes, fur, scales, teeth. She'd been - and already - turned into a monster.

Red gazed at the stars. She tried to think how some sparkling lights could tell a tale. She squinted hard at the sky. It was strange: the more she looked, the more a picture or a photo seemed to form. Suddenly, she froze. The stars seemed to dance. It was like a ballet choreography performed by tiny galaxies to spread a message somewhere. They arranged into a girl with bouncy hair. She appeared to run through a grassland of orbs.

The running went on for a few minutes, until the other stars formed a thirty year old man. He had greyish blonde hair - from what Red imagined as she fell into a trance - and hazel eyes. It all seemed lighthearted - an uncle playing with his young niece in the summertime. But then things changed: the sky turned to a dirty reddish orange as the fading stars presented the man with a machete. The girl turned around, and Red imagined a scream. She snapped out of it and shivered. How could she only realize now?

That man with the machete was her Dad.