The Inception (Book #1 of The Inception Trilogy)

chapter ten

Despite her filthiness, she still smells faintly of vanilla. Harry likes the aroma, but it makes her the perfect bait.

"Could we climb a tree?" she asks between breaths, and Harry slows down some so she can keep up.

He shakes his head--too many of them. They can easily wait for the inevitable moment Harry and Eve would have to climb down. They can easily push the tree over, and there would be little to no hope surviving the fall, not to mention the experiments that would instantly hover them.

He picks at his brain, trying to formulate another plan. Outrunning them won't work, not with Eve's normal pace. He can't carry her because that would be counterproductive. There's no other little cubbies in the ground to hide in, no house or building he knows of that's nearby. He's growing frustrated knowing he has nowhere to go where they'll both be safe. He wishes she would've stayed behind--he could've lead the experiments off their trail on his own.

He listens to the pounding footsteps of their followers, considering the distance between them. If he can tuck Eve safely away somewhere, he can try to take a majority of them from behind and it might dissuade them from pursuing the chase.

He whips around quickly at the sound of a knife swiping through the air, and he pushes Eve out of the way; without forcing her to the ground this time. She bristles, obviously annoyed with him, but he snatches the decent sized knife out of the dirt and hands it to her. She grips the hilt, a look of what almost seems like gratitude flickering in her brown eyes. He knows she'd never thank him out loud.

"I've never seen so many with weapons," she tells him as they start running again. "Most of the time they just use their hands, and... you know, their teeth."

He knows the experiments are getting bolder. Ever since they started their revolution after World War Three, they've steadily gotten more independent and motivated to take over the world, or at least this nation. He doesn't doubt any extremes they may hit simply because they're so desperate to control after being controlled for so long.

He can't say he blames them, if he's honest, but that doesn't mean he's going to partake in this bloodbath, nor encourage it.

Eve gets tackled from behind before Harry can stop it, and then one is smacking into his side before he can help her. She handles the situation well enough, especially with her new knife, so Harry risks keeping his entire focus on his opponent.

The experiment is barely younger than him. Harry doesn't know specific ages--no one does--but this one was definitely created at least a few months after he was. He's strong, forcing Harry to actually use effort to keep his gnashing teeth from his skin. Experiments don't care about attacking other experiments; they'll do anything for blood and power and pride. Harry wouldn't be surprised if them killing each other would be the cause of their undoing.

Harry grips the experiment behind the neck, throwing him sideways but the experiment has his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry slams the experiment's head into a nearby tree, knocking him senseless long enough for Harry to get his bearings. He snaps the experiment's head quickly.

And gets attacked by another the moment he's on his feet.

He tries to refrain from gruesome tactics, but it's difficult to do when the opponent couldn't care less about shedding blood. There's too many coming at one time to keep snapping necks, so Harry does his best to throw them into any thick tree nearby in hopes of forcing them to go unconscious for a while. If you can't kill them all, you can at least put them out of action.

He wants to check on Eve, but he can't focus in on her breathing with so many other panting bodies around. Every heartbeat clumps together in an inharmonious tune, each of them thundering at different paces. She had been right beside him, but of course that was before they were both hounded. He knows she can manage well, however, considering there's so many and she only has a mere knife...

He catches sight of her hair as she starts scurrying up a tree. He would have laughed if the situation weren't so dire and he weren't mute. The girl is practically a monkey. She ascends each branch swiftly, and once she finds a sturdy one at a great height, she pulls out her bow and starts piercing throats.

Harry feels nails digging into the side of his neck, drawing his attention away from Eve. He grips the attacker's head on either side, yanking down as hard as he can. The experiment's neck snaps, but he's still wiggling on the ground, crawling for Harry's feet. Harry takes his boot and crushes the experiment's windpipe, a lingering guilt churning his stomach as he does so.

Amazingly enough, with Eve's constant arrows from pieces of the tree she twists off, and Harry's quick attacks, they're left by only two more. Harry stands a bit straighter when they both plant their feet firmly in the ground, smirking with sick amusement. They give off the impression of only being a few days younger than Harry, maybe a week if he's lucky. They definitely know their moderations like the back of their hand.

Fortunately, so does Harry.

He hears Eve curse above him--she ran out of arrow material.

Harry doesn't recognize the two until the taller one with the broad shoulders and jet black hair speaks.

"Well, 748, never thought I'd see you defending the enemy." His voice is smooth and husky, and his smirk stretches; his number is 915, but he named himself Blaze.

Harry glares at him in reply, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

"Micah will be pleased to know you're alive, don't you think?" Blaze clicks his tongue. "However, his joy may be short-lived when he finds out you're protecting the very thing he's trying to eradicate."

Harry is just about to rip the smug look right off his face when Eve throws the knife, and it wedges itself right between the second experiment's eyes.

Blaze's eyes snap up to Eve and he hisses at her, but Harry has moved in and grabs the base of his neck, slamming his back into the nearest tree. He can kill him easily, but Harry can't bring himself to.

After all, Blaze had once been his only ally.

"Do it," Blaze chuckles. "Go on."

But Blaze knows Harry won't, even though Harry's fingers are itching to squeeze out every last breath.

Harry narrows his eyes, pushes a little further to make Blaze squirm, then lets go suddenly, taking multiple steps back.

"I knew you wouldn't," says Blaze, grinning from ear-to-ear. "I'll tell Micah you offer your greetings... and condolences." He stares longingly at the experiment Eve nearly cut in half. He sends another dirty look her way, then sprints away with his advanced speed.

Eve had climbed down the tree and is now standing right behind him. She walks over and snatches the knife out of the second experiment's head, then rounds on Harry. "What the hell was that?" she demands. "Who was he?"

Harry is still glaring at the spot Blaze had previously been standing. Regret and anger and loss well inside of him, on the verge of overflowing. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth, abruptly walking back towards the underground cubby hole.

So Micah is leading this whole rebellion, then. The nasty brute. Harry remembers once at the laboratory when Micah started flipping the lunchroom tables just to rile everyone up. Micah would beat on the fresher experiments and say he was "toughening" them up. Harry has never liked Micah, not in the slightest. To think his once dear friend is doing Micah's dirty work makes Harry's skin crawl.

Eve is still demanding answers. "He can talk, why can't you? And who is Micah? What does '748' mean? You can't ignore me forever, you know."

He raises his eyebrows at her, as if saying Watch me.

She huffs. "I just want to understand. I want to know what all of this is. I want to know what you are. What kind of future can I expect?"

A very dark one.

Yet sticking to routine, he stays silent.