Keary Taylor - The Human

He nodded and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

“Godspeed.”

“Stay safe,” I said back.

Tristan then turned, and jogged back toward the coffee shop.

I’d counted my steps on our way here and translated them to seconds.

That’s exactly how long I waited before roaring the motorcycle to life.

A brilliant beam of light shot through the dark, directly into a window. The Bane inside instantly crashed through the glass.

I gunned the gas, and shot straight toward them.

I wasn’t left handed, and since I only had one hand to shoot with, I missed the first shot. The three Bane rushing me grew closer as I rocketed toward them.

I fired again, taking one of them down.

The other two were closing in on me when I turned sharply to the left, down an alley. It was barely wide enough for the bike to fit through, but keeping my balance and the handlebars straight, I leaned flat against the bike and rocketed between buildings.

I took the next right I could and got back onto the main road, the one Tristan had said would lead to the freeway.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw a dozen Bane already sprinting down the street after me. The light drizzle above wasn’t enough to keep them indoors.

But they weren’t as fast as the bike beneath me and they soon fell behind. The headlight illuminated a green sign with directions to the onramp for I-5. I had to slow momentarily as I climbed the ramp. The road was badly cracked and dropping away in sections.

The freeway practically sang to me as I reached it and pushed the bike past ninety miles an hour.

“I’m coming, Avian,” I breathed.

All along the freeway there was city after city. I saw Bane waking to life off the side of the road, but by the time they reached it, I was long gone. The Bane were fast, but this bike’s speedometer read over one hundred miles an hour when I really pushed it.

I realized just how far I’d been taken north by how much longer it took the sun to faze into the sky. It was also nearly the end of December and the days were at their shortest. I had turned off the freeway onto Tristan’s highway 101 for a half hour before the sun started lightening the world. The air was crisp and had I been normal, I would be freezing with the thin jacket Tristan had brought me. The moisture in the air hung between the point of dew and frost.

A tiny costal town had just fallen behind me when I decided it was time to hide for the day. I left the motorcycle on the side of the road, next to an abandoned bus, and headed into the trees. The scarce grass crunched under my feet as the temperatures hovered at freezing.

Finding an ancient maple tree, I climbed high into its branches and settled.

Taking out the pocket knife Tristan had given me, I felt along the crown of my head. The stitches were pulling tight. The incision line was completely healed. I tried not to wonder if they had pulled my entire scalp off to dig in my brain. Or if they cut the top of my skull off…

Trying my best to be careful, I slipped the small knife under the thread, and cut.

Small trickles of blood traced their way down my face and neck by the time I was done, but I cut each of the stitches and piled them on the branch.

The back of my throat swelled.

I’d never given much thought to my hair before. Many times it had felt like a nuisance, always getting in my vision.

But for the first time in my life, I actually felt ugly.

My hair was now shorter than Avian’s. And Avian very nearly didn’t have hair with how frequently he shaved it.

How long would it take to grow back?

I collected myself after a few minutes. I had to survive a fifteen-hundred-mile journey. I didn’t have time to mourn the loss of something as silly and unnecessary as hair.

The sun broke over the tops of the trees, and through them, I could just barely make out the ocean.

It seemed Tristan was right. This highway literally ran right next to the ocean, and so far, there had only been small towns along it. Towns small enough to not even have any Bane in them.

But I was grossly underprepared for this journey. I had no idea what had happened to my pack. In a way that almost felt like losing an arm. I would have been just fine if I’d had that. Now I had no food, no water. I had no extra clothing and I was nearly soaked through. I had none of my familiar firearms and this shotgun Tristan had given me wasn’t exactly in prime condition.

I was going to have to raid one of these towns. And search for gas before too long.

As badly as I wanted to deny it, my body was exhausted. The raid would have to wait. I didn’t last much more than a few minutes before I drifted off.

A bird squawked. I opened one eye and saw it standing on the branch above me. It looked right at me, so focused and so precise it didn’t even really look like a real bird. I didn’t recognize its species; he must have been native to this area. But he was big.

My stomach rumbled. I had no idea if the people in Seattle had starved me those fourteen days they’d had me under or not, but I was famished.

And that bird looked like a meal.

Moving very slowly, I pulled the knife from my pocket. I opened the blade and pinched it very carefully between my index finger and thumb.

I flicked the blade and threw it before the bird could even blink. The knife embedded itself in the creature’s throat and he dropped from the branch.

A smile threatening to cross my face, I pulled myself half into a sitting position, about to jump off the branch and retrieve my meal when I froze.

At least twenty Bane stood at the base of the tree. Just staring up at me.

A curse slipped over my lips as I scrambled higher up the tree. Branches and bark scraped my skin, but I felt nothing as I fled, trapping myself in the tree. I leveled my shotgun at the nearest Bane.

But they didn’t move. They didn’t blink.

They just stood there staring at me.

My heart thundered in my chest. My breaths came in quick spurts. My hands grew slick with sweat.

Why weren’t they attacking?

Why weren’t they acting like Bane?

What were they waiting for?

And then one of them raised an arm, straight up towards me. Clutched in its hand was a water bottle.

Another one raised its arm as well. It held a can of baked beans.

Another held up a handgun and another a box of ammunition.

And another gripped a backpack.

One held up a gas can that sloshed.

“What is going on?” I whispered. My eyes grew wide, my grip on the branches I clung to tightening. “How…?”

They continued to stand there, looking up at me with their empty eyes.

I’d thought about every one of these things before I’d fallen asleep. I knew I was going to have to go after these supplies if I was going to survive.

And these Bane had brought every single thing I’d needed.

“Put them on the ground,” I said, my voice cracking on the word ground.

Every one of them put their items in the dirt at their feet.

“Back up,” I said, climbing down one branch tentatively.

The entire group stepped back exactly ten steps.

“What…?” I whispered. I’d been able to control one or two Bane at a time before. But there were twenty-four of them here, and they’d obeyed me precisely.

And somehow they’d known exactly what I’d needed.

I climbed down a few more branches, watching them the entire time I moved. I kept my shotgun aimed at them, but they just stood there, watching me as I descended.

I dropped to the hard ground, just in front of their stash.

They just continued to stare at me.

Had I finally become enough like them that they no longer felt the need to try and infect me? Were they recognizing me as one of their own?