Muts Page 3

  He looked like he had been exposed to the elements a little too long. He seemed slightly dazed with dry, cracked skin. He had long scratches down his face and arms, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the muts chasing him or scratches from the trees he ran through to get here. He finally was slowing down on the water and started working on the bread. By the time he was done eating Maria had brought him in a clean change of clothes, and Sasha was sitting next to me on the couch watching him as closely as I was.

  “So,” I began, “Where were you headed?”

  He looked up and hesitated before replying, “North.”

  “That’s not vague or anything”, I squinted and cocked my head to the side. Did he not just see what we did with four cannibalistic muts? Did he think he could be vague with us after all of that?

  “I...”, he paused and looked at us curiously for a second then leaned back on the couch and idly pulled off another piece of bread as if he didn’t have a care. I had to grit my teeth to not start in on him. I learned long ago that silence will tell more than asking outright. Thankfully, Sasha wasn’t pestering him with questions like she usually does. He seemed to come to a decision within himself. “I’m trying to find a building near here. Ever seen it?”

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn bundle of papers. He pulled out a picture of an unremarkable brick building that if I had passed by everyday I wouldn’t have remembered.

  “It was called ‘The Broughton Institute for Rehabilitation’ publicly.”, he said with annoyance in his voice, “But, I got lost looking for it after I ran out of gas. I don’t have a map on me so I started walking in the general direction. I know it has to be near here.”

  “Why are you looking for a rehab place anyways? Got a problem we need to know about?”, Sasha offered with a chuckle. I tried to not roll my eyes. I was trying to make him uncomfortable and she’s attempting jokes. He gave a slight smile at her attempt, before frowning at his bread again.

  “I’m hoping I’ll find someone there.”, he explained, as he fished out a worn picture and laid it out next to the other. In it was Clint holding a laughing young girl with long blonde ponytails, their similarity too obvious for them to not be closely related. They had the same wild blonde hair and deep green eyes, and there was something about their matching smiles. I couldn’t stand to look at their similarities anymore, so I slid the picture to Sasha so she could get a better look. “That’s my baby sister, Abby.”

  “Why would your sister go there?”, I inquired.

  “She was taken there, she didn’t just go willingly.”, his jaw clenched, then his words spilled out “That place is not what they seem, they take innocent people that are just diff-”

  He cut himself off quickly then looked at both of us with clear suspicion in his eyes.

  “How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know you, you could be working for them.”

  I couldn’t help it, I laughed at him.

  “‘You could be working for them?’” I imitated in a dark voice, “Seriously? What bad movie did you steal that line from?”

  “I’m serious!”, his ears began to flush a dark pink, “This is a really big deal and I can’t really go around spouting off sensitive information!”

  I opened my mouth for another sarcastic comment after our giggles subsided, but Sasha held up a hand to stop me.

  “Carrie, he’s got a point...If it’s really that sensitive to him then we should respect that. But, that doesn’t mean we’ll trust you immediately.”

  He nodded in agreement then looked back at me. I rolled my eyes then flopped back against the arm of the couch. If it was my sister that was taken away from me and I was in the same situation I knew from experience that I would be much worse than he is. After she died I was not a pleasant person to be around for a long time, and I’m not usually too pleasant on my best days.

  “Fine. So, what do we have to do for you to be willing to tell us everything? If you’re going to stay here then we need to be able to trust you too.” , I told him sternly.

  Regardless of how much I didn’t want another mouth to feed around here, I had to help him. At least he still had a hope of finding his sister alive. Clint gazed intently at Abby's picture sitting on the table in front of him for a minute, as if he was trying to make up his mind, then he looked up.

  “When those things started chasing me, I threw my bookbag away from me. It has everything I own in it and all the information I will need to find her. You take me to get it and I will tell you the story the second it’s safely in my arms.”, he offered me with his hands up in surrender, “Treat it as a sign of goodwill.”

  “This all seems very one sided on our part.” I scoffed, leaning towards him. Now this is what I was good at. I could always strike a deal in my favor, and I honestly enjoyed the negotiations. I just had to make sure I didn’t give away any feelings so he couldn’t scalp me out of more than he deserved. My voice stayed detached and uninterested, but I could tell that Sasha had noticed the excitement that flared in my eyes. It’s always great to have a close friend, but I could only hope that she wouldn’t open her mouth and ruin my facade.

  “We get to risk our lives for a story? Yet you get your precious bookbag and a place to stay? Doesn’t seem very equal to me. Sweeten the deal or no dice.”

  He searched my face, looking for a sign of weakness, I assumed. His face was contemplative, I kept on my haughty mask. I was, regretfully, out of practice in the art of bullshit. Sasha glanced back and forth between the two of us apprehensively.

  “I have a good bit of medicine, painkillers, and some antibiotics. I packed a lot of that and food, most of the food is gone though.”

  Sasha glanced at me with her eyebrows raised. We both knew how much we needed medicine. She went through our entire pain reliever stash when her antlers started really growing in. She compared the sharp sensation to a toddler teething on a migraine. It took less than a day of her laying in bed with tears pouring down her face before I broke and gave her the only bottle of Ibuprofen we had left. Luckily we have Maria and a full green house, so we never had to worry about food or basic herbs, but any kind of medicine would be priceless. Without even a change in my expression, I stood and nodded, deliberately looking down on him. Giant or not, it was instinct to be intimidated by someone looking down at you.

  “Deal. We take you to get your bag, we get your story and the medication. You can crash on the couch for tonight and tonight only.”, I held my hand out for him to shake, one eyebrow raised. His green eyes pierced mine for a moment before he stood, reached out, and shook my hand with a firm grip. Dear god, this man was tall; so much for what intimidation I thought I had.

  “Deal.”

  Right then, we heard Allana call down the stairs that the shower was free. I quickly handed Clint the folded clothes from the table, and sent him upstairs with a breath of relief. Perfect. We were getting some meds. Granted, I could live without the hulking human taking up more room in my house and eating what little food Maria could grow, but I’ll just have to deal with it. Every available room had already been claimed. I’d have to wipe one of the chalk Xs off of one of the doors if he stayed. Damnit. I marked which rooms were private, so my entire life wasn’t erased by my need to take care of everyone, yet here I am- taking care of everyone. Again. As soon as he left, Sasha turned on me with her arms crossed. When she opened her mouth to talk, I held up a finger, holding her silence, until I heard the bathroom door shut.

  “So wanna talk about that at all?”, she said with a hint of anger in her voice, when I tried to shrug her off without replying but she planted herself in front of me, hands on her hips. Great, so we’re doing this then. “What the fuck, Carrie? We don’t even know this guy, and now we are putting our skin on the line? He brings those cannas to our door, and now we go out of our way? I don’t trust this.”

  “Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m curious by nature. It better be a hell of a good story, though.”

&n
bsp; “It really sucks how you can just offer us to endanger our already fucked up lives for this stranger so casually.”

  I shrugged again, much to her annoyance, and Maria popped her head in from the kitchen, with the smells of a spicy stew filling the room. Bean chili again it seems. Super.

  “Will the strange, dirty hobo be eating with us this evening?”, she asked, exasperation dripping from every word as if we were asking her to overwork herself on a holiday, like it wouldn’t take her two minutes to sprout some more potatoes. First Sasha and now Maria. It wasn’t like I wanted someone else to take care of.

  “Yeah, he’s eating here and staying here. Just let it happen.”, I shouted back at her as I stomped up the stairs. Dinner was going to be hell. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to eat another salad tonight. Positives.

  Chapter Three

  Clint

  “So, how long is it going to take us to get your bag anyway?”, Sasha asked me as we walked down the long gravel drive to the road. She had her gun under her arm, loaded and ready to go, while Carrie had her long machete casually thrown over her shoulders as she walked. They reluctantly agreed to give me a weapon, but the only thing they could all agree with was an aluminum baseball bat. I tried to explain that I have no hand-eye coordination to brag about but I could shoot accurately, but the look on Sasha’s face when I asked for her gun instead made me shut up real quick. Over dinner last night, Carrie joked that Sasha is much more mellow than her, which is why they work together so well, but the violence in her eyes at that moment made me rethink Carrie’s statement.

  The road to Carrie’s house had to have been picturesque and beautiful once. The few bare trees that were left seemed to gracefully slope into a natural ceiling, but now the empty, dry branches just creaked against each other in the wind. Each side of the road was littered with dead, brown plants that once looked like they might have once been flowers. Even the asphalt seemed dead, with waves of styrofoam snow dancing over it in the subtle breeze. The sky was the color of an old wound, that was the easiest comparison. Even at the brightest part of the day it reminded me of being in a photography dark room, almost too dark to see with red light pouring down overhead.

  I figured I could hit the little gravel rocks like I was golfing. Being out in the open like this was putting me on edge, but even pretending to golf helped me feel better. I couldn't help but to wonder if I would ever get the chance to again. Most of my guys treated it as a time to get drunk and ride the little carts around, but the few silent moments I had on the green while they were off doing god knows what was always so peaceful. I missed the beautiful green grass and the unhindered blue sky. I wish I would’ve appreciated it’s natural beauty when there was still beauty left. Nothing was beautiful anymore. Almost every tree was bare, except for a few with delicate brown leaves, and whatever grass managed to survive the fallout was covered in a white layer of “snow”. None of us was sure what it actually was, but it had the same look and consistency of little balls of styrofoam. We knew that it was mostly white ash floating in the air, and I tried to not think too hard about what the ashes were made of.

  “Well, I ran for a while. I’d say we should get there, at this speed, within an hour.”, I commented to Carrie as I hit another hunk of rock that shot off and clattered against a tree. It hit exactly where I was aiming, and I let out a loud whoop of excitement that echoed and bounced between the dead trees.

  “You know,” Sasha began, with a threatening sweetness lacing her voice. “You’re making it kinda hard to listen for any crazy cannibals stalking us with you sounding like a herd of obnoxious frat brothers.”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration…”, I muttered to myself. Always mellow my left nut. We walked together in silence for an excruciating ten minutes before I just couldn’t help myself and I had to ask:

  “What’s with the lanterns? I saw so many on the way here. Were they placed before or after the bombs?”

  “I put them up,” Carrie said proudly, walking a little taller, “As a way for lost muts to find our home so we can help them.”

  “It’s true,” Sasha chimed in begrudgingly, giving up on us staying silent, “That’s how I found my way, after the third one, I decided to follow them when I was wandering. Not much else to do out here anyway.”

  “It probably also brings those insane muts to your door too though,” I reasoned, “Would it really be worth it?”

  “The really rabid ones don’t even remember what a lantern is, much less that they’re markers. So, it primarily helps muts like Sasha and James. And you, if I recall correctly.”, Carrie argued back, instantly defensive.

  “How can you tell who’s one of those and who’s not, though?”

  “We figured out three main ways: they have that twitchy, pulsing movement to themselves, they don’t seem to feel pain, and their wounds don’t heal properly.”, Carrie explained.

  “Why are they like that anyway?”, I asked, looking up through the dead branches to the dead red sky. “You seem fine, what happened to them and not to you?”

  “Some people’s mutations weren’t as easy as ours…,” Sasha answered solemnly, “They either didn’t take it too well, or they enjoyed the power it gave them too much. Some just... Their brains mutated for some reason. The cannas are like rabid beasts now, and there’s no reasoning with them.”

  “We tried, for the first few that showed up,” Carrie took over, “But, it’s usually easy to see who’s rabid and who isn’t. They always have wounds all over them, and they rarely ever bother to bandage themselves up. Also, that twitchy movement is unmistakable. Some though… they got clever and had enough brains to weasel their way in the door before they attack. Luckily they haven’t been around quite as much recently, we think they’re finally dying out.”

  They paused, and I knew that they were both thinking of that dark pit full of corpses that dominated that was obviously once a beautiful yard. Over dinner last night, Carrie explained a lot about the house and its residents but when she told me about their need for a mass grave, it made my stomach churn. After the run-in with those ‘cannas,’ as they called them, I could understand why they had everything down to a science. I never thought about how they got so good at cleanup until that moment. I had so many questions they were about to burst from me, and I wasn’t going to waste valuable explanation time.

  “So... how did you get your mutations?”, I tried to ask casually. Sasha shot me a dirty look, I assume because I was talking again. But, seriously. I was walking through the woods with a deer and a reject from Forks. I needed some answers.

  “I’d just left a throwback-themed costume party. I had a horrible migraine from way too much booze and too many drugs, so I was lying in the dark focusing on the ceiling. The fake fangs grew into my mouth, this stupid body glitter won’t come off now, and my pupils just kept growing until they took over my eyes completely.” Carrie responded, her black eyes glancing up at the darkened sky. A small storm of debris had developed and had cast the world in swirling gray and red tones . It was creepy yet still beautiful, in a mass extinction kinda way.

  “It’s a good thing it’s so dark outside now. I don’t like wearing sunglasses when I’m out of the house. The light can be unbearable, my eyes are super sensitive now.”

  “So, all that vampire talk then…?”, I questioned.

  “Never underestimate the power of bullshit.”, Carrie joked with a wide, mischievous smile. So the vampire thing was all an act then. It seemed like everyone’s mutations involved what they were holding and wearing when the bombs dropped. But how did…?

  “And yours?”, I turned to Sasha. She gave a casual shrug, and tried to sound nonchalant but even I noticed how her gaze dropped to her feet.

  “I ran into some... unfriendly men during a hike and ended up alone and naked without any of my gear. The only thing I had after they left me there was a bag of some deer jerky that had fallen into the ravine too. I ran out the day the bombs went off. I guess because I w
asn’t wearing anything and that was all I ate for a week before, it became my mutation.”

  “Wait, you were naked? So, they…?”, I asked her, nausea rolling over me when I realized what she was glossing over. She pierced me with daggers again, and I was proud that I didn’t take a step back from the rage behind her eyes.

  “Yeah. Exactly what you think. Pieces of shit…”, she took a deep breath through her nose before her tone lightened, “But, after that I wandered around for another couple of weeks, barely surviving off of what I could find, before I followed the lanterns to Carrie.”

  They smiled softly at each other, then looked back at me. I felt a pang of jealousy over their friendship. Since I left my home I’d been alone this whole time, and I really missed having a friend to smile with.

  “As far as mutations go, mine’s definitely one of the easiest. Bizarre, yeah. But still, it could be worse though.”, Sasha said with another shrug.

  “Worse? What do you mean?”

  “We once had a mutt show up that had large scales coming out of her neck, turns out she merged with her pet boa. She was already dying when we found her, but within a few days she ended up... drowning, for lack of a better word. Some of the scales started growing back into her neck and they cut through her arteries.”

  I looked at both of them in horror, and they nodded solemnly. I repressed a shudder. I don’t understand how I managed to be so sheltered through all of this, but ever since I crashed into their lives, it seemed like the entire world was finally at my front door and it was ready to destroy me. Cannas, mutations turning on people, all of it. Before I could start worrying about myself, I pictured Abby. Her life was a nightmare even before all of this happened, if my worst nightmares were true. And here we both were, in a never-ending nightmare. Speaking of a never-ending nightmare…