Fields of cows. Sparse trees. Empty roads. That's all I see.
The journey from Pennsylvania to Denver isn't exactly eventful, but it's relaxing. For once, no one's bossing me around or trying to kill me, except for a couple of angry cows along the way.
The quiet is making me go a little crazy. Voices speak softly in the wind, then disappear, the voices of Ian, my mom, and Zula. A few days ago, I would've done anything for something to happen. Now I'm getting tired of it. The mooing of cows and a soft breeze blowing my hair around is music to my ears.
I stopped running a while ago; my energy quickly saps in the heat. Pretty soon, I have to stop and take a break under a small tree as the sun nears the horizon. I look over at my heavy bag and open it up.
Inside, there's the book Zula gave me, beef jerky, water bottles, extra clothes, assorted maps and papers, and green paper that I assume is money. I open the package of beef jerky and take a bite of the strange substance.
"Spicy," I choke. "And a little dry."
I take a swig of warm water from a plastic bottle.
"Moo," I look up to see a patched cow chewing on cud.
"Hi," I hold up the jerky. "Want some?"
"Moo," The cow shakes it's head distastefully and walks away.
"Oh, right. It's made from cow. Oops."
I pick up the giant book with papers falling out of it. The dusty cover has the words World Atlas printed on it. I flip through the pages. Each map has notes about humans and their way of life. Their greetings, phrases, how to spend money, everything.
"Wow. That's a lot of culture."
I turn to the last page where a map of America is highlighted and drawn on.
"Pennsylvania," I point to the outline of the state. "And I'm here."
I point to the name of the state I had last seen on a welcome sign, Kansas.
"What? But that's impossible..." I stare at the map, wondering how I could have gotten so far so fast. Then it hits me. "Super speed." I whisper. Scientists had murmured about my potential abilities that would become known in my teenage years. I haven't ever been able to run that fast before, so it must have just come up.
"I wonder what else I can do..." I stand up and look at the small tree.
"Sorry," I break off its biggest branch easily and throw it as far as I can. It whistles as it flies through the air. "Woah. So, super speed: check, super strength: check, and, uh, well I guess that's it. Maybe I have super intelligence... Of course! That's how I can figure things out so easily. Huh."
It's a good thing I figure that out, because a few seconds later, I hear the sound of paws pounding against dirt.
"The wolves."
Three wolves suddenly appear on the horizon, one of them with only one eye, the others walk with a limp.
I quickly pack up all my stuff and get ready for them. Sooner than I'd like them to, they surround me and my decapitated tree.
They snarl and bare their yellow fangs, and for a moment I forget how much the pack has decreased since the last time I saw them. Before any of them can attack, I lunge at the wolf closest to me. It pins me down on the dead grass, but I grab it by the ears and slam it against the tree. The wolf falls on its side, it's tongue hanging out.
"One down, two to go," I mutter.
This time, a wolf takes the first move. It leaps towards me and scratches my face. It barks and nips at my ankles, it's mouth foaming.
They're toying with me, I realize. They want me alive.
But I don't want them alive.
I snarl and growl back, acting like an animal. I run around and in between them, taunting them. They shake their heads in confusion. Zula was right; even though they're fast and strong, these animals are stupid.
I stop mid-fight, confusing the wolves even more.
Zula.
If there are still wolves left, that means...
She's dead.
I stay still for too long. The wolf with one eye pounces on me, knocking me to the ground. It stares at me and growls. I push it off, but not without getting a long scar on my side. It immediately starts gushing blood. I try to stand up and fight, but my vision goes blurry and the world spins. I collapse back on the grass. I wait a moment, expecting to be killed, or worse, getting dragged back to the lab, but nothing happens.
I hear a muffled sound of whimpers, and the slash of a knife, then silence.
I reach out for my bag, but feel a hand instead.
"It's going to be all right," A young girl with freckles and a strange accent assures me.
My vision tunnels, but at the end I see a young boy and girl, sitting over me.
"She's bionic, alright." The boy whispers as I fall unconscious.
