It's dark here, not a scary dark, but a soft, warm darkness, kind of like snuggling underneath a fuzzy blanket, or closing your eyes on the bench beside the slide at a big park. Pat Pat I flutter my eyes open, "it's raining" I say to myself sleepily. I lay still in the rain the persistent tap of a raindrop lands on my skin every few seconds. The ground is hard and rough beneath me, but it doesn't bother me I stay still and calm, rain soaking my hair and camo cargo pants, it's relaxing here.
A thunderous bang snaps me out of the trance! I sit straight up to survey my surroundings and my jaw drops, debris and ash is everywhere, fires are raging all across the ruined buildings and skyscrapers that surround me, I sit in awe "what happened?" I ask myself. The question suddenly answered itself once I discover where I sit. I sit in the middle of a mile long crater, torn into the concrete and rock that used to be city streets, I stand up just stare "did I do this?" I ask myself, that answer became suddenly apparent as well.
"Rouge Deviant, Caz!" I turn to face the accuser, did he mean me? He was sitting in the open sliding door in a passenger helicopter megaphone in one hand and the other resting on the sniper rifle in the chopper "we have you surrounded surrender and you will be spared!" I open my mouth to accept but I'm interrupted by an explosion only feet away "Wait!" I yell but it's too late.
The man throws his megaphone backwards and grabs the rifle and proceeds to train it on me. Instinctually I throw my open hand forward and a ball of pure heat erupts from my open palm and rockets toward the helicopter, missing the hull but smashes the blades, causing the chopper to plummet and crash to the ground with a bang. "What the hell!" I cry with shock. Suddenly soldiers, and heavy armour storm in on my position open firing I don't want to be here at all! And on that thought a wall of fire proceeds to consume me and I pass out
I wake up again in a field, I stand up immediately and scan the surrounding, nothing, I look down at myself camo cargo pants, no shirt and dog tags "huh" I grab the dog tags and read CAZ MCWILLIS, DEVIANT CLASS: A. I knew that was me, but I cant remember for sure, "who am I?"
YOU ARE READING
Deviant
ActionWhen 16 year old, Caz wakes up in a crater in the ruined mass of steel that used to be New York, with the only trace of an identity lying on the dog-tags on his chest, he is thrust into a world of loss, death, courage and hidden talents. Can he over...
