Dear readers, we have made it to the last sequence of this book. It's been quite a ride since I came back to WP with the story. I've met amazing fellow writers who have helped me since Day 1, awesome readers (that includes all of you 😉) and just stumbled across hilarious accounts. My writing is, of course, still a work in progress and I wish to continue improving it. 

Time to grab a snack, get comfy with a blanket and scroll away! 

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Once the waterfall had inched into view and the—I almost thought poor creature—started to twitch, it was Luc's cue.

"Good luck," I dropped, wishing with all my heart nobody would get hurt. "Tell Ethan, Ben and Devin that."

He sported a smirk, the same kind after he kicked down the Wanderer on his back. Just this time, it was the reaction I preferred. "I'll tell them, but we won't need it." And he turned to Amelia, whose arms were crossed. "Try not to get bored."

"Task failed."

Well, then. "Guess I'll do a cartwheel every chance I get."

"Damn, and I can't watch that," Luc lamented and snuck a glance at the woman.

She smiled stiffly, but it seemed like it was her general mannerisms rather than aggravation. She had that sharp bone structure and hollow cheeks. "We're going to manage without you, so relax."

Once we'd gotten close enough on our walk, I could detail her mean boots and cargo pants. It was topped off by a leather vest full of pockets. She didn't play around.

After one last blood-smeared leaf for him to carry, Luc walked down to the base of the wall we'd visited in broad daylight and followed the riverbank. It'd lead to the mouth of the river, and I'd be just above them, somewhere in the trees, probably.

I waited for him to disappear, with fingers outlining the shape of the knife under my jacket.

If this worked, what would become of them, and will I forever have no idea?

"Come on," Amelia coaxed. "Others might show up sooner than we think."

Can't disagree there.

We waded through grass uphill where the roar of the waterfall made it impossible to listen to the night. It'd be all too easy to creep up on us, then I remembered that mutants could sense them nearby.

My foot cracked a freshly frozen mud puddle. The temperature must be lower at this altitude.

We didn't talk much even after we found two tall oaks alongside one another. She had a clear view of me and the ground. The branch under me was so thick I could fit in twice. I could tell by the difference of warmth between my hands and core just how chilly it'd be without my layers.

Thankfully, the blood in my extremities returned with new heat.

If only I could close my eyes and wake up home. But we were at the finish line. I gazed at the pretty stars. All in all, I was far too lucky to deserve getting here, but I'll take it.

The first lone howls echoed beyond the cliff. My muscles tensed.

"Luc told me these monsters were the original experiment," I said. "Is there still anything human deep inside?"

"I'm not sure what you mean there."

"I mean, the fetuses the scientists used... or the babies... How can it just be an animal now?"

"Oh," Amelia whispered. "The original attempts weren't advanced enough for humans. They made a chimera. Sure, some human DNA's in there, that's clear enough. But to suppose it feels anything like us is a stretch. You can't expect a creature living in a completely different reality to have relatable feelings."

"They seem to protect each other," I pointed out. In the pitch-black darkness, she was a ghost.

"Many animals do. Elephants, wolves. Even the goddamn prairie dogs. It means nothing that a Wanderer is pissed when their friend dies."

I guess she was right. Orcas and dolphins were team players, too. It might have simply inherited this instinct from any other source.

I was never a great team player. There was the home-schooling, then Dad always encouraged me to not depend on my beach friends, to pull my own weight.

And I could never be fully part of that crowd, so to speak. The more I did competitions and the older I got, they grew more distant without a clear reason. I never had a group to belong to.

Which must be totally foreign to people like Amelia.

"Don't tell me you're concerned," she said.

"What? No, I just wondered. They're still killing machines."

"Good. Can't stay soft when one is coming for you."

I rolled my eyes even if she couldn't notice. People had this impression about me, including Luc. Maybe it was my face. I always helped dock workers with gritty work and it made me good with a knife.

The bait's sounds turned into desperate wails that dominated the mountain. I scooted against the trunk, taking in the wicked shadows of the forest, and decided to squeeze my backpack. Just for the sake of grounding myself as they were getting closer.

My scent had been carried at the base of the waterfall. Although we erred on the side of caution, there was no way some would stray this far up.

Throat itchy, I fumbled around for water. I looked into the wrong pocket at first and almost switched before realizing I touched something thin and rugged. And hairy?

Visions of a Black Widow invaded my brain.

Unless there was an emergency, I wasn't supposed to use the headlamp, but if this was some venomous insect that slipped into the bag, I ought to get rid of it. I cupped the light in one hand and used the lowest setting.

Instead, I stared at a leaf. It was still green except for the tiny, rusted stain at the tip.

I... I did not forget a single one.

Before I could organize my thoughts, screams rose in response all around, near and far. It even seemed to rip overhead. Panic flooded me like sudden rain. I gazed down, expecting to see a crowd of eerie eyes looking back at me, but there was still nothing.

When I walked with Luc, Amelia had trailed behind. She planted the leaf. No other explanation fit.

Fingers numb, I rattled my belt for the flare gun, and as soon as I clenched the handle, the base of my tree burst into flames.

I teetered up on the branch and locked eyes with her. Finally, I could see her entire face. She was smiling.

The flames started licking the lower branches and spitting embers. Heat fanned over my cheeks.

There was still time to escape before the jumping distance would be too dangerous. She watched me unaffected while I scrambled over spiky stems.

I leaped out of the blazing tree and didn't stick the landing.

Shaking off the daze, I aimed the flare toward the moon. The woman was on me like a hawk. Landing gracefully against the fire, she pulled the flare to her open palm and took my backpack with it.

"What are you doing?" I pleaded, tears floating in my sight.

"Nothing." She allowed a pause to appreciate the crushing vocals that were drawing in fast. "That's the idea."

Exposed and right next to this burning altar, I almost thought it wasn't worth trying. How far could I hope to run without seeing ten feet beyond me?

Even with no answer, I stirred the dead leaves in my way and turned tail. Amelia let me, which only confirmed how bleak my chances were. Oh God.

Once I was out of range, I scratched my palm against bark until it was stinging raw. Then I picked up a rock, let it mix with my blood, and flung it with all my strength. I wasn't sure what difference it'd make, but I was truly beyond plans. The plan was out the window.

I crouched in the dark to gather long, ribbony weeds. They brimmed with some sort of smell. Faint and sweet. I used a whole plant to wrap around the scrape, hoping my own scent would be buried while I carried on.

We never were a hunting family. Not in sunny, animal-loving California. But tourists were a fact of life for me, and from them, I heard tons of stories.

I reached over to crush some fresh needles between my fingers. I rubbed juice and dirt all over my hair, my jacket, even my wrapped hand, trying to ignore the hysteric screams as I did that.

I shuffled away from that area, but the screams were everywhere. In the bush, in the trees, around the bend and beneath my feet. Impossible to know if I was running from them or toward them.

Luc... he will never learn it wasn't an accident. She'll say there were too many of them, that we got swarmed and that my flare was lost in the confusion.

I followed the wind and made my steps as light as possible. If I needed to find my way back, that was a fool's errand, but at least it could wait. I believed I was going in the sense of the stream. Then I heard something that almost caused me to cheer at the sky.

Some Wanderers had made it to the arena judging by the chorus. Now, I could somewhat situate myself and feel a little lighter.

Two other places had my scent. Wherever I went, I gave off the weakest lead.

▲▲▲

Do I climb again and risk marking a tree with my smell? Do I just keep moving? I haven't stumbled across a nook and might as well walk past one without ever spotting it.

Downwind seemed like an overarching wise choice. I parted hindering branches, slipping through.

I may reach the point we departed from Luc and I could stick with them even if it was dangerous. I stopped under a thin ray of moonlight, thinking.

What would prevent Amelia from guarding the location just in case it was my next choice?

Or what if there are too many Wanderers between me and the base of the waterfall? From here, only the depths of the cliff echoed with battle cries.

No, I couldn't take the single path in use to lure them in.

My strides were slow—silence over speed. It allowed me to note the clicks and hums nearby. I had a few scares down the valley that made me spin and aim the taser.

Besides the knife and gun, the latter which would give me away, it was all I had left.

If I could survive the trip down the mountain on foot to return home, I would do it in a heartbeat. But an experienced hiker would sit this one out, too. How could I trust that Amelia was the only person in on this? How do I trust anyone?

This pit was calm, sheltered with thick vegetation. For the first time since the burning tree, their screams seemed distant.

I could spare some energy, stay ready to run if it wasn't safe anymore. Skies were clear—a deep glittering blue I'd always admired.

Either way, it was just me now. I could almost believe I was the last breathing thing in the vicinity. It was perfect as a hideout, and an unfair place to die.

I spun and spun. No matter where, there remained a blind spot. And it made me twitchy, the mere fact that an angle must go unseen for even a second.

Yeah, this was how rabbits and deer felt in a chase. How I felt trying to rest on a park bench the night of the earthquake, when I wanted to shut down after crying out all the tears in my body but couldn't afford to.

Stillness wasn't more bearable than slugging through the woods.

My skin was warm in this coldness, so warm that I was sweating. My breathing was too fast for legs that weren't stomping. All I wanted was to let them rip, but I knew deep inside that might push me straight to the danger.

The prick in my neck sparked.

My head whipped. Whatever they said about this sensation, whatever it might be, it was ingrained in me after the car broke down in the rain. It tolled the bells at Homecoming before bodies began to pile up.

There was no ignoring it.

It wired my muscles for me.

So much for camping here. With my pulse about to burst, I started to skirt obstacles again, worried that it—or they—could hear the drumbeats.

A tiny voice in my head demanded I kneel and cry, gaining strength as the prick began to bleed into my spine. Physically, I could pinpoint all the areas I'd been grabbed, scratched, choked. I saw the rabid teeth snapping from the total blackout, over and over, when my eyes closed.

I took in the bushes, the leaves above. Giving up was not who I was. I came all this way.

The rustle off to the side—not wind.

I just barely laid a hand on the knife that it hissed over my shoulder. A pungent sour breath filled my nostrils.

My knees caved under a hit. I touched ground on all fours. Soil. Loose soil. The soft growl came lower and lower and I dug my fingers in. Where I expected to find a set of two glowing wells, only one blinked and rolled.

The other one was sealed with a scarred lid.

I blew the dirt away, stunning the animal off balance enough for me to ram that current at max strength. In its confusion, it bowed. Blood rushed to my head, and suddenly I was alive with rage.

Knife out, I powered onto its back and brought the blade down, meeting resistance.

"Die, you motherfucking piece of shit!"

It thrashed and howled in pain. I was crushed as it rolled to get rid of me, so I wrenched my arms tight around its throat.

I thought I could hold until it ran out of air, but a blinding sting in my intact forearm caused me to scream and let go.

Next thing I knew, I was lying under the stars while it panted in the mud. Damp soil lingered on the tip of my tongue. My knife was gone, of course.

I propped myself on a shaky elbow. I pulled out the Glock as it coughed and wheezed, finally getting a taste of its own medicine. It was too dark for perfect aim, so I lit up the woods and fired five rounds into the prone figure.

Each bullet meant to kill it once and for all braked inches from the Wanderer, floating as if time stopped. The teeth it bared in reaction chilled me to the core.

Sweet crap.

I was at the base of a sparse bush, so I crawled underneath until I reached the other side.

I had no other option but to run.

And run, I did. It was a miracle I didn't trip yet. Every precious second of distance it gave motivated me to sustain the pace.

One Eye cried after me, its voice resonating inside and out of this sinister place.

I'd never been faster somehow. My body sprang like a well-oiled machine. But then... but then... The ground waved, and everything went wobbly. Leaves ahead blurred. I thought they'd turned vibrant green for a blink but it was impossible.

I couldn't stop, no!

Either I run or I die.

But I didn't know where I was going anymore. I bumped into a tree, resumed at a jog. Legs heavy, I placed one foot in front of the other. Rinse and repeat.

Surely it was far enough, it had to be.

The mountain was silent. My lids fluttered, and then I buckled to the forest floor, thinking about how Emma had dragged herself to a log in this state.

Something searched my belt and objects thumped. Moist, scaly fingers eased mine open only to slide the weapon off my knuckles. The bald head sharpened into view with a long, long hiss.

"Does it end with me?" I whispered.

It hated me with a passion, but despite the nearly human intelligence, there was no intricate reason behind the campaign. This creation was fashioned to hunt, to terrorize and own the food chain. No matter what brought so many of them to the region, the purpose for any of them was simple.

This experiment hadn't been a failure—it was a resounding success. So good it was uncontrollable.

There was a white-hot stitch in my abdomen that grew from a single point until warmth pooled beneath my ribcage.

No sound escaped my lips at first. Ice seeped into my bones, chasing away the last drop of strength. A vigorous twist finally forced me to scream.

Veins on the Wanderer brightened and swelled as I felt the rip deep within. I gasped in a fit of spasms, but it sounded more of a gurgle.

Static was filling the air. I faintly gripped its arm to try to push it away.

Crackling light exploded between us. The flash hurt my eyes, and the thing stumbled backward to leave me swimming in blood. It took me a while to realize it had stopped moving altogether.

Feeling crept back into my body. Hesitantly, I rolled to the side for a clue, unlocking a new world of pain.

The skin was scorched.

Scorched raw.

One Eye had fallen stiff beside me, face-to-face.

  ✩