Hybrid

Chapter One

My dad wants me to see what it's like out there. He works on the council for New York but is being moved to the Washington council. He's been out there twice now and thinks I should see it too.

I don't know why, he's been scratched by a feral the first time round - nearly nine years ago now and now he seems to think putting me in the firing line is an educational experience. He keeps the scars hidden most of the time but I've seen them before. Five long scratches that start from the chest and finish near his neck. A cautionary tale, only it hasn't worked since he's sending me out there.

All I'm waiting for is a convoy to take me. One way trip and my mother is seething. She's going to Washington first, with my two sisters, but they're taking a plane.

The three of us huddle upstairs on the couch, I've got the volume turned up so that Caroline and Marie can't hear them fighting too clearly. The two of them hold me close, we all know what I'm facing out there and they're worried.

'Hah, made you jump!' A friend of mine, Ryan, sits down beside me. 'You've got to be better than that out there. Those ferals will tear you to pieces.'

'Yeah, yeah. Admit it, you were just as scared out there.'

'Yeah, of course. But hey, I heard they've got a new convoy system worked out.'

'How new?'

'They brought it in not long after I moved here. It's supposed to have made a huge improvement on keeping the convoys safe.'

'But you don't know how?'

'People out in the Outskirts know. And they're not telling.'

Friday afternoon lecture, another reminder on Ferals. This video is monthly viewing, regardless of whether you're wanting to venture out from the city or not. And all grades attend.

The screen flickers to life and a deep voice begins. Most of us in the twelfth grade can recite this word by word now and I see some do just that until a teacher tells them to stop. A few of the younger grades turn away when it gets violent.

A couple of students are getting teary. Some of it is actual footage of ferals.

'The Feral bite triggers a physiological and mental change in humans and it is permanent. They are no longer humans but animals, with no real thought processes. We must be aware of them. They may look human, but they are not and would kill in a moment. They are uncivilised and have no compassion, no empathy.'

'Cheerful viewing,' Ryan mutters under his breath.

'You must have seen them get shot.'

'Course. And that's reminder enough.'

'Ryan, care to repeat that comment?'

'No, Miss.'

'Good. Because those monsters are real. And they can't be reasoned with. Ben,' she turns to me. 'I heard you're going on a convoy in a few weeks.'

'Yes, I am.'

'Well, I hope you have learned what you have from this video.'

Yeah, shoot anything outside the truck. Gotcha. 'Yes, I have.'

'Good. I'm sure those out in the Outskirts will thank you for being practical.'