Written In Blood | Countryhumans AU

Working Like Clocks

Most people crowded around their TV excitedly. While nobody really cares for USA and the states shenanigans, the excitement that comes with the races is yearly. Watching the states hype each other up and play around. The range of their wears, the heights.

 South Dakota bared his teeth at South Carolina. United was nowhere to be seen. Though as quickly as we thought that cameras in Washington DC picked up on him. The black uniform with a large worn backpack. He was leaning over Vice President Alexander Harlow. The young man whispered into United's ear. United straightened with a curt nod before jumping on his horse and disappearing between buildings. The announcer went over this year's rules and game mode. Apparently, there are a few backstabbers in each team. They can turn on their teammates but if they are caught in the act, they can be killed. Horrible really but that's how the game goes.

When the races start it's always boring. The states leave the starting area and do whatever they have too. Capture the flag this time. The Jungle isn't one of my favorites, but eh, it helps. As long as everything goes as planned. Well, it will be fine. United's got it covered anyways. Taking the hit himself. Wouldn't be the first time, though the last time he got caught. You always learn from your mistakes. I know he has. Shadows are a great cover. Watching the cameras as they tracked our individual movements. I'm the only one standing still.

"There's no need to be so... Focused Manhattan." Boston said from behind. Turning to him, we stared each other in the eye. Dropping my shoulders with a sigh.

"Don't say that you might be tucking that tail between your legs in no time." Boston scrunched up his face in anger with my snide comment.

"Well listen here Manny-"

I slap him with my tail. It's easy because of how short he is.
"No fighting." Atlanta called, pocketing his horse pick. The three musketeers snicker to each other. When the clock starts getting louder, we get on our horses. Once United had finished his business he said he would join us. Give our pathetic team a fighting chance. Why the hell did we get put against some of the biggest teams.

A single shot rings out and we're off. Running blindly into the woods. First stop is the capital of Maine to get that flag. Then we'll hit New Hampshire and Vermont. Get the east coast done before I think Tornado gets out of Florida.

"Our best bet for now is to get as many as we can and avoid the other teams. Unless they strike a good deal." Pennsylvania calls from the head of the pack. Sounds good to me. My chest tightens with fear. We are running out of time. Adjusting myself in the saddle, with a flick of my wrist I start pulling up to the front. Penn looks at me and speeds up to be in front of the group.

"What's on your mind Yorkie." Penn asks while looking from me to the path ahead.

"Just anxious. The plan has me on edge since Uni never answered my email or texts."

"Yeah. I get that. But we both know it will go pretty smoothly."

Thunder rumbles in the distance as we push on.

"Three hours till it's showtime." whispering while picking up the rear again.

Teeth flashed and claws were thrown throughout the air. Sharp teeth dug into my shoulder. With a roar I claw them off. Mountaineers are already out for blood. The sound of antlers hitting each other. A flash of a blue flank caught my attention, as Colorado and Vegas rammed each other at full force, stunning each other.

"REGROUP!" Alaska yells, drawing the mountaineers away from the fight. I did not think they would cross that fast into California.

"Ouch, looks like New Hampshire got you good." Oregon said while examining my shoulder.