Be Human

Chapter 1

Gunfire. All around me, as I run the dirt road unarmed, there's gunfire all around me. I run as fast as I can, while at the same time saving some for a later time. I learned that for each ounce of energy that you spend, you try to save the same amount. As the gunfire and the yelling get closer, I see the beginning of a forest a little ways off to my right. The one thing that's better than running, is hiding. As I leap into the forest, I hear trucks and hounds behind me. Nice to know that they understand they can't find me by themselves.

As I run through the forest, I attempt to run in the most complicated paths I can. In doing so, I also try to leave the least amount of tracks possible. As I sprint through the woods, I come to a sudden stop and start looking around quickly. The best way to get rid of the dogs is to keep them from sniffing me out.

I hear a sudden growling behind me. I turn around, expecting to see one of the dogs that might've caught up with me. Instead, I see something that might actually help me out with my current situation. A skunk. The skunk and I are in this staring competition for a few seconds, or maybe for a few hours. You never really know. One way or another, I need that thing to spray me. As the thing is growling, I start to growl as well. I glare at it straight in the eyes, telling it that I will not accept the "dominance" that it's trying to place upon me. The thing starts snarling, and I see the tail begin to rise behind it. Exactly what I was hoping for, despite the smell that I'm going to smell like this for a while. I yell, startling the thing to turning around, and releasing the foul smelling gas out of its rear-end.

I recoil at this, for the smell is too strong to bare. But the things has done its job, and I turn around to keep running. As I run, I still try to run in complicated trails, and try to leave the least amount of tracks possible. I see the end of the forest coming, leaving it with what seems to be some sort of badlands. I skid to a stop, considering my options of whether or not I should stay in the forest. The badlands provide little cover, and if I leave, they'll see me and shoot me on the spot. If their aim is good enough. But if I stay in the forest, they'll most likely find me eventually. I stand there, pondering these options. I turn, and run into the badlands.

Practically thirty seconds after I enter, I regret the decision. I hear shouting behind me, followed by some gunfire. As the bullets fly past me, I get the urge to run faster. And I do. The farther away I am, the father away the bullets are from my body. I see the top of a hill coming closer and closer, and push myself to run towards it. I finally have an idea of where I need to go.

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As I reach the top of the hill, I get a good look of everything in front of me. I see a small cluster of adobes at the bottom of the hill. It's a good place to hide, if you know what to do. I look for the largest one there, and see it with little surprise. The biggest adobe is about two stories high, with windows carved into it, although it may have the width of a normal house in the US. I hear yelling behind me, and as I look back I instantly regret it. They're a lot closer to me than I expected them to be.

I pretty much jump down the hill, gaining a lot of ground on them. I hop down what's left for me to go down, and dash towards the village. As I run in, all I see are people giving me bewildered looks. I ignore them, and try to make my way towards the large adobe. As it comes into view, I stop behind another adobe and peek around the corner. In villages like this, someone who has a house like this is probably rich, and may have armed guards with them.

I peek around the corner, and to my surprise, there's nobody in front of the door. I proceed slowly, and go through the door while crouching. As I enter, I remember that I should've looked through one of the windows on the lower floor to see if there's anyone in here. Because of this, I look like an idiot in front of a bunch of armed guards with assault rifles strapped onto their backs. As they all stare at me, I try to count how many are here in this room. I count up to four of them. They were all African, with odd red berets on their head, and were wearing camouflaged pants and shirts. It actually made them look like they were wearing a one-piece.

Suddenly, they all advance towards me speaking in a different language, with their rifles pointed at me. Even though they were speaking a different language, I can pretty much tell what they're saying. I slowly put my hands behind my head, while one of them slowly approaches me with one hand extended to apprehend me, and the other is still on his gun. As he grabs one of my hands, I grab his forearm, and pull him in front of me. The thing about these people, is that they're first instinct when someone makes a move in this situation, is shoot. The man I pulled in front of me, is then greeted by a hail of gunfire. As he falls to the floor, I pull the pistol he had holstered at his waist.

While the other three men were still trying to process on what they've just done, I take the opportunity to aim. By the time one of them realizes what's happening, he begins to shout something. But after a peep came out of his mouth, there was a bullet in his throat. As he fell down, choking on his own blood the other two men looked up. One of them yelled, and pointed his rifle at me again. I ran towards him, and when he tried to shoot, I ducked while pushing his rifle to the side a bit. The bullets he shot flew straight towards a wall, while the bullet that I shot went straight towards his kneecap. I turn towards the third, whom was in the midst of pulling the trigger. I kick the bottom of his rifle, causing the ammo clip to fall out. I kick another time, but this time at the switch at the side of the gun. I kicked it back, and the bullet in the chamber comes flying out, unfired.

He looks at me, as if he doesn't think I'm human. He tries to hit me with the butt of his rifle, but I step to the side, grab it and push back. The point of the gun slams into his stomach, and he crumples over yelling in pain. I take this opportunity to grab him, and throw him at the man whose knee I shot. Their heads make contact with each other's, and they both fall to the floor unconscious. A man walks down from the stairs, but I don't try to kill him. He's my instructor after all.

"Well done, David," he says. "You passed the training program... again."