The Clean Ones

Chapter 7

We sprinted as fast as we could to the house. Neither of us said a word the remainder of the way, our minds too focused on the awful noise that neither of us could seem to shake. When we arrived, two of the guards grabbed a hold of Cale's shoulders and threw him to the ground. Blood squirted from a wound that opened on his forehead.

"Cale!" I screamed and dropped down beside him. I took off my jacket and pressed it to the wound on his forehead, hoping to ease the rapid bleeding. "What the hell was that for?" I turned and yelled at the guards.

"Nobody's allowed inside the premises of this home, Miss." A gruff voice replied. "It would be wise for you to leave."

"It's okay Cale," I whispered to him. "Just hang in there, okay?" I got up and approached the guard who spoke to me. He must have stood two feet taller than me, and at least five times as wide. He didn't seem the least bit phased by my presence.

"Hey, you!" I yelled up to him. "I think it would be wise for you to not try to hurt my friend, k?" I gulped, my hands shaking at my side. Do it for Cale, I thought. I couldn't leave him here to bleed to death. No matter how mad or irritated I was with him, he needed me. I wasn't going to abandon someone in their time of need even for a second time; it just wasn't something I would consider doing.
The guard peered down at me just as my fist connected with his face. A horrid cracking sound erupted from the site of impact. He grunted and pulled my arm forward so tightly, I could feel the limb pull out of the comfort of its socket. I gritted my teeth, but still was unable to suppress my shrill cry of agony. He then tossed me back without so much as another grunt, allowing my arm to violently snap back into its socket.

I didn't dare nurse my arm, nor did I even bother to look down at it. Instead, I drew my gaze from the guard and used my arms to scoot myself backwards in a somewhat seated position. I ignored the stinging that radiated through my body and pushed backwards until I was as far away from that guard as I could manage to get.

Of course, due to my luck, I managed to push myself right into a circle of guards. At home, fighting in any form was strictly forbidden, as well as any form of self defense. If there wasn't any violence, then you wouldn't need to know how to defend yourself. For the most part it was true; I had never been placed in a situation where I felt the need to protect myself. Well, until now. There was no escaping the twenty-something guards that surrounded me, with their tranquilizers all pointed straight towards me.
I didn't fret over them- I was used to being around tranquilizers every day of my life. Their effect was only temporary. But, as the circle advanced on me, my body began to shake. A look of hunger grew in all of their eyes. It almost seemed as if it were a game to them: who could be the first to sedate the rebel child.

"Oh, for God's sake!" One of them cried out. "Shoot, already! You're all more than capable of working a gun; use the damn thing!"

A gun? The term felt odd on my tongue. They looked exactly like tranquilizers... But no, they couldn't be. Wouldn't the guard have referred to them by their proper name? My anxiety level skyrocketed. One of the guards, the one that I foolishly struck, came forward into the circle and pressed the cold barrel of the... gun, into my forehead. This was it; this machine would kill me. Even though I was unaware of the powers it possessed, I knew well enough that it would not be on my forehead if it were not deadly.

The clicking noise appeared again, right as the guard pressed down on the trigger.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

"You shoot the girl, I shoot you!" A voice yelled out. The guard's tall figures obstructed my view, but I recognized the voice instantly.

A bang, the same as the one earlier, went off, sent one of the female guards down. As she hit the ground, blood squirted from a wound on her chest and went smack-into my eye. I tried not to think about it too much as I wiped my eyes of the grotesque substance.