After the Sky Bled

Capter 10

My delusion about a girl who would never love me caused my body to feel sluggish, and heavy. This wasn't new, and it wasn't necessarily bad. That feeling; the slow heaviness, that was what a body was suppose to feel like, and the love that erupted when I thought about Sarah, that weakness that came from her scent, from her touch, it helped remind me what being human felt like, it kept me grounded. The problem; feeling that during a 7 story free fall just after being knocked off balance by a phantom fist is not a desirable situation. The grogginess kept me from reacting, from righting myself in the air, like I've done so many times before. Instead of that favorable response, I just sort of flopped at the last second, like a fish just as it's hoisted from the water. This last second flop saved my life, as it caused my back to take the brunt of the concrete, and saved my head the trouble. The thud, followed by the very audible oof that came from my body forgetting oxygen is a good thing; let my assailant know its sneak attack was successful. I heard the laughter of many voices, the stench of many unwashed bodies; scavengers.

Lots of people had tried to band together after the Day, the result had been groups of survivors, mutated, regular, and intermingled, that cared only about themselves. They were just people trying to survive, like everyone else, and supplies wars were a regular accurence because of it. They were likely just planning on stripping my corpse, and grilling me for info on my stash if I survived, they had been sorely mistaken, because I was going to punish them all.

When my vision cleared, I was greeted by a soiled face yelling to his friends, he was looking up at them, so he didn't see my eyes focus, or my body stiffen, and he definitely didn't see my claw dive into his chest, but his friends sure as hell saw his blood poor down on me as I pulled my hand free, with his heart in its grip. There were yelps and screams galore as I stood, dripping in the stranger's blood. My first thought; 'Mira's going to be beyond pissed.' My next; 'wow, these bastards have had it rough.' Every one of them, it was a mixed group of older and younger individuals, looked like they had been through hell and back, more so then most of the rest of us. There were 11 of them total, 12 if you counted the corpse laying at my feet, and they all looked malnourished, in clothes that looked like they had been through a cheese grater. Both male and female, anywhere from age 12 to 30, were covered in cuts and bruises, they looked as if they had just lost a war, and it had cost them their supplies. They were obviously desperate, I could see it in their eyes, they were willing to try anything, do anything, if it meant a meal and some clothes, that included knocking an unidentified mutant out of the sky and hoping he wasn't powerful, well they had screwed themselves over this time.

Not a single one of them looked like they could handle me, most were just survivors, carrying pipes or knifes, shivering because they knew they didn't stand a chance. A few of them had mutations, one was covered in metal studs, like something doctor Frankenstein would have put together, another was holding a machete in a long tail like appendage that ended in a hand. However, even these two were leaking fear. I could smell it on them, past the body odor; I could smell the sweat of each one. Everyone had a distinct smell, but there was a tinge in every one of them that was exactly the same, it was a smell I had come to distinguish as fear, a smell I had learned to relish, because fear meant my prey wasn't thinking straight, meant they would make stupid moves, meant they were easier to kill. Despite this, there was one that stood out, he still looked malnourished, and was covered in the same amount of soot and grime as the rest of them, but it was his demeanor that set him apart, that, and his smell. His sweat lacked the fear, his knees weren't shaking, he wasn't afraid. His sweat smelt like excitement, determination. His body was shaking, not trembling, shaking, like really fast, faster than the average eye could see. He smirked, realizing I had picked up on him.

I had enough time to think, 'well shi-' before I saw his body twitch, and then disappear, a millisecond before I felt a familiar fist against my face, and concrete against the back of my head, there was that thud again. He was laughing and my head was pounding, I don't care how enhanced you are, taking a punch at god knows how fast, and having an already cracked slab of concrete as your backstop will leave you one mother of a headache. I stumbled to my feet, and took a 100 mile an hour dead leg. Great. Now my face and the concrete have made each other's acquaintance as well. I couldn't think straight, I should have just laid there, should have let them get comfortable and close, so I could reach and slash, instead I just stood up again. And again I found myself making a concrete angel. Again and again, to stubborn to stay down, to dazed to fight back. Eventually, my body would quit, and I would pass out, but until then, the beast inside me kept picking fight over flight, even if that just meant finding my feet for a second, then falling back to my new best friend. All while speedy had a blast.

'Again.' I urged myself and I tried to stand. I made it to my feet, like always; I stood up, looking around, as if I could see through all of the fog in my eyes. Except something was missing this time, I couldn't quite put my finger on in, but something was missing from my cycle. I could hear a commotion of sorts around me; grunts and smacks, twangs and thuds, but I had something more important. Something was missing. Let's see, stand up, straighten out, look around, then...then... something, but what?

The commotion was coming to a close, whatever was happening was wearing down, and the fog was starting to lift, in my eyes and my head. I could remember now; the bastard who kept hitting me, and the fact that there had been an all too familiar voice in my head for the past 10 min.

"Tyson, Tyson wake up, wake up!" it's no wonder she had sensed a problem, I mean I was just outside the house, she had probably been monitoring my psyche as soon as I got within range.

"I'm up, I'm up." I answered, still mildly groggy, but capable of cognitive thought again. As my vision refocused I realized that my sister had put a beating on my assailants, most of them were knocked out and strewn throughout the alley, the one covered in studs was repeatedly smashing his head against the wall. Then, upon further inspection, I saw crossbow bolts protruding from a few non vital areas, and turned around to see Sarah. There she was, that blond hair tipped with brown waving lightly in the breeze, those bright blue eyes shining intently as she scanned the crowd for movement. The held that crossbow like she had grown up grasping it in her petite linger hands, when in all reality she had taken up the skill during the three years, so as not to be useless next to Mira and I. In those cut off shorts and that tightly fitting, faded, yet name brand shirt, she made my whole body ache. The worst part was the scent. So close like this, it was too intense to handle, I felt week in the knees, that scent, mixed with the smell of determination, I couldn't take it, couldn't handle having her so close, yet not having her at all. The worst part; she wouldn't even hardly acknowledge me. It's not like she hadn't killed. Both she and Mira had taken their share of lives. The difference; I had been the first, and the most gruesome, plus, they only took the lethal blow when it was necessary, there end goal in a battle was to win, to survive, mine was to kill. I knew she saw me looking at her. After what felt like an eternatly of looking at her look past me while doing everything I could not to let my knees buckle, Mira finally spoke up.

"OK. Let's go home."

We all turned, I couldn't help but watch Sarah's walk, the quiver of bolts bounce as her hips rocked with every step, the way her shoulders and back moved as the propelled herself forward, I had memorized it all, had memorized her, simply because I couldn't help myself.

I was listening to the bolts clank as she took a step when I picked up a rustling behind me. I had every intention of ignoring it, figured it was just one of the scavenger's bodies settling. However, the rustling turning into steps, and the steps turned into pounding, and the pounding became increasingly fast. As I turned, I knew what was coming, this time, I raised both arms to cover my face, and felt the impact on my forearms. I could smell blood, could hear it dripping at my feet. When I lowered my arms, the speedster's body was standing before me, a bolt in his chest opposite the side of his heart. The shaking of his body had stopped. He was all but gone, practically a standing corpse, but seeing him before me brought back the anger, the pain, the beast.

My hand shot out, wrapping itself around his neck, it was easy to wrap my fingers around that malnourished gullet. That smell, the one that had been so full of determination before was now tainted with fear, no, it was drenched in it. I was ashamed that this was the bastard who had me on the ropes; I wanted nothing more than to squeeze whatever life he had left out of him. It would be so easy, like wringing the neck of a dove after it had been shot full of lead. The thought was like a drug, I could feel my whole body vibrating, I was high on the image of his death.

"Tyson stop." Mira's voice range through my head, if she had said it aloud, her power would have made me do just that, but like this, in my head, she was giving me a choice, she was letting me choose whether or not to let the predator take over again.

I could see it. My hand would close around his neck as the nail of my thumb pierced his Adams Apple, his life would gush out through the hole, it would be so satisfying.

Sarah. Sarah wouldn't want me to, it would just make her hate me more, make her think I was even farther from the me she remembered. I... I had to let him go, had to let it go. I could do that. I could. At least I think so. Yes. Yes I can do this. I felt my grip loosen on his neck, felt his head slide out from under my hand, heard his body hit the pavement, then felt my feet turning me and leading me the other direction, out of the alley and home.