It's in the Genes

Training

"You almost got him that time!" I cheered "helpfully" from the sidelines. Parker sat next to me, munching on strips of jerky while we watched.

The four of us were in a clearing in the woods behind the house, and it was training time. Sybil and Niall circled one another, each having just recovered and evaluating the other warily.

Niall was the first to move forward. Light on his feet, it almost looked like he was dancing. Sybil, in contrast, was grounded. Whereas Niall's movements were nimble and airy, hers were firm, but agile. Once in range, he darted forward and extended two, quick jabs at Sybil. She hopped back, just managing to avoid his hands.

In any other context, a child's guardian trying to punch them would be considered abusive. In this case, our intent was not to injure Sybil; it was to give her the tools to defend herself if—and hopefully not when—the time came.

When we left the laboratory, Niall and I knew that once the scientists and other personnel returned, finding us would be a priority. Back then, it had been more of an instinct. Even though they left us there without protection, we grew with such a strong emphasis on unity and allegiance. Of course, it was one-sided, as we realized then, but we both had the strong suspicion that our "disloyalty" would not be overlooked.

As we got further from that place, we gained more perspective, and in turn realized that the drive to find us would be prompted by more than mere feelings of betrayal. "Creating" us had almost definitely been a huge expenditure, and what they were training us for had the potential to bring about a large payout. Losing us was losing massive amounts of capital. Besides that, we were a liability. We were the perfectly packaged proof of an abuse of human rights. We were our own evidence that a crime had been committed, and worse, we knew the way back to that crime scene. If any authorities or anyone with power discovered us, they could easily discover the compound too.

Self-defense was not just a priority—it was a necessity.

Back in the laboratory, they had begun to train us in different specialties when it was clear that the experiments on us worked and we would likely have a reasonable lifespan. One of those specialties was combat. With this in mind, after we had first settled into the house, Niall and I agreed that it would be important to train the kids as was appropriate—not for some sick future, as the laboratory would have had it, but for their protection.

Sybil already had some training by the time we got here. She was only five when we left the compound, but by her generation, those in charge knew that our existences were somewhat stable, and could be profited off of. When they sequenced her DNA, there is no doubt in my mind that their intention was to make her a soldier. She was spliced with a timber rattlesnake. Behind her teeth are two deadly fangs. Like me, she has an enhanced sense of smell. Her body has always been deceptively dense, appearing skinny, but hiding a substantial amount of muscle. Out of all of us, she easily has the most strength in proportion to her size.

Even more than that, Sybil had an extra sense that the rest of us lacked. On either side of her nose were two odd, somewhat shiny, textured indentations. To anyone who didn't know better, they easily passed as scars. In reality, they are sensory organs. Timber rattlesnakes have additional sensory organs that enable them to detect prey by being sensitive to temperature—basically, a infrared vision. Sybil has the same ability.

When we came here, one of the first things we had to teach her was restraint. Back at the lab, she was not just being trained to be a weapon; it was more like she was being cultivated. All of us were, but especially the younger kids. Fighting wasn't just something we were able to do, but rather, was a way of life and a core identity. Niall and our cohort inhabited a weird place, because there were many years that the scientists weren't sure we would live. Since the specialization happened somewhat later for us, we were able to see the transition taking place with the younger generation.They were taught to live by a code and that their roles as future soldiers was essential to the betterment of the world—they were its protectors. As soon as they were old enough to ask "Why?" they were given a purpose: to fight, with devotion and without question, for the good of the world.