Nightmare

2

185 Years Ago

Ten-year-old Amy groaned, her voice heavy with frustration. "This is more embarrassing than my first period," she muttered, slumping against the cool stone wall of the underground bunker. The sting of humiliation burned hotter than the aches in her body. Being forced into adulthood at age five, when her mutation had first manifested, had been cruel enough. Five grueling years of relentless training had hardened her body, but not her pride. And now? Having her butt handed to her by Able in front of everyone was a new low.

"Being an adult at ten years old sucks," she grumbled.

Immortality was officially a bitch. Sure, it sounded great in theory, but it came with the price of stolen childhoods and endless responsibility. Welcome to adult life at five years old, where playtime was replaced by drills, and bedtime stories were swapped for survival training. Now, after half a decade of forced maturity, Amy found herself envying those who could still be kids—carefree, unburdened, and oblivious to the horrors of the world.

The worst part of today wasn’t even Able. It was Jason—her twin—who had humiliated her in front of the group. He’d fought her, pinned her to the ground, and handed her a thorough defeat, all because Able wanted to prove she wasn’t ready. Jason didn’t go easy on her, either. Every bruise and ache screamed the truth: she still had a long way to go.

Beside her rested her Mossberg 590 shotgun, its black barrel reflecting the dim light of the bunker. She picked it up, tied a blindfold over her eyes, and began dismantling and reassembling the weapon by feel alone. Click. Snap. Slide. The rhythmic motions steadied her hands and gave her mind room to wander.

---

The world above their hidden refuge was a nightmare. With the rise of mutants, the government had declared martial law. Alaska, once a remote and peaceful wilderness, was now a militarized zone. Soldiers patrolled the roads, drones scanned the skies, and checkpoints littered every major route. Amy and Jason’s only sanctuary was an underground house beneath Flattop Mountain, carved out by a boy with a rock-bending mutation.

The location was their one advantage. Hidden deep in the mountain, accessible only by a narrow, winding two-lane road, it was almost impossible to stumble upon. The silence up here was almost peaceful—until the rumble of government vehicles or the drone of helicopters shattered it. The military wanted them both, especially Amy, after what she’d done.

She still remembered the look in her father’s eyes when she pulled the trigger. Three shots to the chest. He deserved it for what he’d tried to do, but that didn’t stop the guilt from clawing at her. In the eyes of the government, she wasn’t a scared little girl defending herself; she was a dangerous mutant who had killed her father in cold blood.

The betrayal ran deeper than that. Their mother had once been their protector, but after Amy killed their father, her mother had turned against her. Amy could still hear her mother’s angry screams during the raid, her voice venomous and full of hatred as she tried to kill her own daughter.

---

The future looked bleak. Their only chance of survival was to leave the United States. But escaping the country was easier said than done.

“Russia’s out,” Amy muttered to herself as she stared at the map spread across the floor. That country was at war, and they conscripted mutants as human weapons. China wasn’t any better—there, anyone found with a mutation was made government property. South Korea was slightly less strict, but the risk of being caught was still too high. India seemed like the safest option on paper. Their mutant registry laws were strict, but enforcement was sloppy. If they could get there, they’d have a fighting chance.