Mutts

‘Zany?’ a teasing male voice called. ‘Earth to Zany?’

 ‘Matt, shut up!’ Zany – real name, Zania - laughed. ‘I was thinking.’

 ‘Did it hurt?’ Matt asked, a twinkle in his eye.

 ‘I repeat – shut up,’ Zany replied, smirking as she hit Matt lightly on the shoulder with her bag. ‘Are Ramona and Kar back from patrol?’

 ‘Not yet,’ Matt said, shrugging. ‘But don’t panic,’ he added, seeing Zany’s worried expression, ‘they can take care of themselves.’

 ‘I know,’ Zany sighed, ‘I just always worry that they’ve been caught and killed. Once they grab you – their grip is like steel. The only way to escape is to shoot them. And they’re immune to weapons too, which sucks.’

 ‘Ramona knows how to fight,’ Matt said gently, taking Zany’s hand.

 ‘I know, I know,’ Zany repeated, instantly pulling her hand away from Matt’s. ‘But her fists are no match for the mutts. They’re too strong. Plus, Kar doesn’t have a gun.’

 ‘What? I told her to take one!’ Matt exclaimed, standing up. ‘Honestly, I know she’s a total hippie, but if she wants to survive, she needs to be prepared to kill!’ Zany bit her lip. She didn’t want to get into an argument with Matt. He knew more about the mutts than most of the others, Zany included, but still seemed to think that bullets would kill them, when in fact all they would do is injure the shooter. Mutt skin reflected any weapons, sending them back to the source, which was generally one of the human kids. It’s why nobody volunteered for patrol – except for Ramona.

 Ramona could shoot, throw and detonate, as well as punch, kick and bite. She was an expert at dodging bullets too, so always managed to get out of the way of the rebounding shots. Kar was, surprisingly, her best friend. While Ramona was a born fighter, the kind of person whose blood quickened during a fight, Karmilla, known to the others as Kar, was a down-to-earth, non-violent hippie. She rarely took any weapons on patrol with her, insisting that violence wasn’t the key to peace. Unfortunately, the mutts didn’t think the same – probably because they didn’t think at all. Still, Kar was fast and agile, and had never been caught by them.

 ‘Zany? Do you agree?’ Matt snapped. Zany blinked a few times.

 ‘I’m sorry, what were you saying?’ she asked.

 ‘I was saying that Kar needs to man up and learn how to shoot,’ Matt repeated in a bored voice. He and Zany were close friends – although Matt preferred the term allies – but she often zoned out of the conversation, thinking about other things.

 ‘Oh, uh, yeah,’ Zany nodded, still not exactly following. She was busy hoping that Kar and Ramona were on their way back, unharmed, and that the street was clear of mutts.

 Mutts were everywhere. They were mutated humans, programmed to kill Descendants. Descendants were members of Bloodlines, some of the oldest families in the world. These Descendants were rare, and they were powerful. You see, the Bloodline families were magical. Not your stereotypical wizard magic, but real magic. They heard and saw things that non-Descendants didn’t; they seemed to know things before they happened; they could reach into both Descendant and human minds to find things out. Nobody knew about them for a long time, but in the late twentieth century, the British government found out. They told the United States, who in turn told Russia, and eventually word spread to all of the world leaders. They feared a rebellion, that these Bloodlines would want to rule instead of them, and they set scientists to work on developing a “cure”. But when the cure didn’t work, they set their sights on something else.