The Corrupted Soul

Chapter 31

Sketch sat nervously on the park bench, fiddling with his hands and looking around with growing unease. I was sitting on the bench beside him, mostly to stop him from bolting.

People walked through the park now, as it was just about noon. This meant Sketch could get used to people walking around in a more natural way. He had growled twice and both times immediately tried to run off, but I had stopped him, "You can't solve your problems by running from them, unless your problems happen to be a pack of rabid wolves."

He glanced at me for a moment before looking back down at his hands, "But my problems are risk of eating a person alive against my will."

I sighed, "For the tenth time, you aren't going to eat anyone. Why is that your main concern, and not going after someone's pet or getting attacked yourself?"

He looked up to the clouded sky, "I doubt I would go for an animal if there's a person right there. You've lived with them for years, you're used to it. We both know what Crawlers were made for! Our instincts see humans as primary food sources!"

We both fell silent, staring at the lake ahead, which had once again completely frozen over. I shifted slightly, grimacing at the dull pain. Sketch noticed, but refused to comment, as he had earlier too.

I squinted a little, just putting it together now, I spoke quietly to make sure no one on the paths overheard, "You blame yourself, don't you?"

He whipped his head up, staring from behind his glasses, "Wh-What do you mean?"

"You blame yourself for me getting attacked. Don't you?"

He paused, just staring at me. It was a long time before he looked down again, "Maybe..."

I was genuinely curious and concerned, "Why? What could you have done that would have changed anything? The others attacked, I fought back, you weren't even part of that."

He clenched his fists, "Exactly! I wasn't part of it! I could have helped you instead of just running away."

"You would have gotten torn apart! You wouldn't have been able to fight them, I know it, and you do too. Besides, you think I can't handle a few bone-deep scratches?"

He chuckled silently, getting my point. I had more scars than I could count, and he knew it. When I had put the bandages on I of course had to take my shirt off, and he had needed to help me with the gashes on my back.

My phone buzzed in my pocket suddenly. I took it out to see what that was about. My eyes widened with a small gasp as my blood ran cold, causing Sketch to look over with increasing worry. I turned the screen to face him, and he had a similar reaction.

It was a text from Olive.

'We found them.'

○ ○ ○

I jumped off the tree and onto the unpaved road where I could see Olive waiting. Sketch landed several seconds afterward. Olive had a stern look on her face, and had blood dripping off one Crawler leg. It was not her own.

"Surprised you didn't do worse."

"Oh I will. Just figured I should wait for you two."

Fair enough. She started walking down the dirt road, so Sketch and I trailed behind her. I put a hand on his shoulder when I noticed just how muddied his scent was with different emotions. Fear, anger, unease, he was rightfully unsure how to react to meeting them again.

The wind shifted direction, shoving their scent directly into us from up ahead. A growl escaped my throat, but it was almost unheard, drowned out by Sketch's snarl of rage. He darted forward, it took me a moment to process and follow him.

We came into a small clearing as the dirt road faded out. There were several armored vans, all with a dark grey coat of paint, with dark teal accents. The guards around had armored uniforms of the same color palette, and each held a large gun made for dealing with Crawlers. They could shoot bullets, but also spray that repellent if needed, and each had a blade at the end of the muzzle.

In the middle of the clearing, was Tank.

Sketch seemingly couldn't stop growling, nor could he avert his gaze from the betrayer on the ground. From the looks of it - and unsurprisingly - Tank's spine had not yet repaired enough to allow function in his legs or Crawler legs, except for the two closest to his shoulders, and the small ones for communication.

He was laying on his stomach in the snow, but propping himself up with the two Crawler legs he could use. When he noticed the three of us entering the clearing, he rose up, causing his body to tremble. It was almost amusing seeing the Crawler I had been so afraid of before rendered practically harmless.

He glared at me, a large claw scratch covered the left side of his face, which oozed blood steadily down his neck and chest. I glared back. He turned his head slightly to look at Sketch, and his demeanor shifted so fast it was jarring, "Sketch, what are you doing with them?"

He was not given an answer, unless continuous growls counted. I walked forward, "He had the right mind to not stick with psychos who think they're high and mighty."

He swiped his claws at me, stupidly. As now he only had one Crawler leg supporting him, he immediately fell back into the snow. He hadn't even come close to reaching me anyway. I sighed, "Personally, I've had enough fighting for one week. I think I did plenty to you all yesterday, however, you almost killed Olive's canine son, and lied to Sketch for several years. I have a feeling they're going to get some anger out before you get sent to wherever the humans plan to send you."

I took a few steps backwards, and jumped up into a tree, laying on the large branches. From up here, I could now see a small cave that was half concealed a few yards away. Cap must have been in there with Victor's body. It was good to know where their scent was coming from.

I heard a crunch from below, followed by a snarl of pain. Glancing down - against my better judgement - lead me to seeing Olive snapping one of Tank's Crawler legs, before slapping him across the face. Olive wasn't a cruel person, I'd be surprised if she did too much more than simply yelling at him, Sketch was already leaving to go back to the treehouse most likely, to him the thought of letting their memory die out was more appealing than revenge. I was going to stay here to wait for Olive.

It was only about five minutes before she stopped snarling at him and started leaving too, so I hopped from the tree and followed. Wherever those three were going, I didn't care, I just hoped they'd rot along with Olive's sad excuse for a father.

Now to find Sketch...