"How far are we going, Kyle?" Shaun called impatiently. "I think we've put enough distance between us and the city."

We had walked through the darkness until the eastern horizon bled red with the rising sun. Then we'd stopped for a few hours and slept, only to awaken and continue onward for hours more.

The morning air was brisk, the grass speckled with dew that gradually soaked through my shoes. Excitement and unease twisted in my stomach whenever I eyed the vast expanse of freedom before us.

When Kyle stopped and turned around for the first time in hours, the sight of him struck me. He looked alarmingly pale with a sheen of sweat on his forehead. The tenseness in his expression, eyes tight and brows drawn together, immediately told me that his unexplained episodes of pain had returned.

"We head south, I think," he said rigidly. "As far as we can go, until it gets warmer. It's our best shot at survival."

"Maybe we could even find another city," Zara added. Her words were punctuated by labored breaths from our nonstop hiking. "They won't know we're fugitives, right?"

"Doc and I talked about that sometimes," said Kyle, rubbing at the scar on his palm. "If they find out we're not citizens, we'd likely be taken into custody. There are so many questions about how they'd react to us—"

"But if worse comes to worst, we could sneak in and steal food or supplies, just like at our city, right? I think it'd be advantageous to stay near a civilization as a safety net," she stated, sitting down on the trunk of a fallen tree.

"That's a good point..." Kyle trailed off.

His eyes became unfocused, overwhelmed by pain. He sunk slowly to the ground, lowering his head into his hands.

Matt glanced at me, confused.

Shaun, with a knowing look in his eyes, stepped forward. "For now, I guess we'll have to live like the ancients—hunting and foraging. We might as well get started. Matt, do you know anything about edible plants?"

"Yeah, they put us through a survival course in the military."

We split off in opposite directions. Matt and I located some sumac berries and started picking. I popped a few into my mouth, the tart, acidic taste swirling over my tongue, and swallowed, desperate for the rush of sugar into my bloodstream.

"So...what was that?" Matt asked, a crease between his eyebrows.

"Most of us have had strange symptoms," I explained. I'd been trying not to think about it, but my brain had already started to connect the dots. "It started with Kyle getting these crazy nosebleeds. Then my tears burned like acid, and later, my eyes went entirely red with broken blood vessels." I paused to focus on picking the berries, a shiver rippling through me.

Eventually, I continued in an impassive monotone, "Something happened to us all as children. We were altered. Our DNA is different from yours—different from any normal, healthy human..." I trailed off, unnerved by my own words. "And we have no idea what that means for us. What the repercussions will be."

Matt was staring at me like he had no idea what to say.

"You...keep at it," I told him. "I'm going to go check on Kyle."

I stood and marched back to our makeshift camp. But it was deserted.

"Kyle?" I called out, followed by a moment of heart-stopping silence.

At last, a breathless voice to my left said, "Hey."

I followed the sound to discover Kyle propped against a tree, his head lolling weakly to the side. He surveyed my anxious expression, then added, "I'm fine. A-okay," in a drunken sort of tone. His eyes slid shut, and a wave of pain seemed to pass through his body with a shudder.

"We need to do something before this gets any worse," I said urgently, my chest tight. "Kyle, maybe...we should go back. Maybe the city doctors would know how to help—"

"I would rather suffer out here than submit to—"

I forced myself to say it. "I'm scared you're dying."

There was a minute of silence—except for our ragged breathing and the rustle of wind through the bare trees—until Kyle opened his eyes, boring into mine with overwhelming intensity. "Promise me...that no matter what happens to me...you'll keep going."

My mouth fell open, then snapped shut.

Before I could respond, Matt came crashing through the trees, sending dead leaves flying as he skidded to a halt beside us.

"I was talking to your friends, and it's like you said—Zara just coughed up blood," he panted. "And Shaun admitted he's been getting bad headaches for weeks, each one worse than the last." His eyes were full of fear, staring at me like I might implode at any moment.

"I think this is it," I breathed. "This is it for us. Everything is reaching a boiling point, it feels like." I stared wistfully at Kyle, then slid to the ground beside him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Shaun said it's best to keep him talking—distracted from the pain," Matt said softly.

I nodded, meeting his concerned gaze with a look of sincere thanks. He disappeared into the trees to go check on Zara.

Kyle looked at me, the corner of his mouth sliding into a half grin. "Ask me anything."

I stared at him intently. I could tell he was working hard to mask the pain, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide their trembling.

"You...never talk about your childhood," I said uncertainly. "When we found your father in the city, you said...there was something you'd never forgive him for. I always wondered what it was."

Kyle nodded, though his eyes hardened with new pain.

"It starts with something that had nothing to do with my father," he began. With my head pressed against him, I could hear the deep vibrations of his voice in his ribcage.

"It was September, and I was starting middle school. Eleven years old. My mother was trying to make it special for me—she always did, for every birthday, holiday, and milestone. She was smiling all morning, so excited for her son, and she cooked up pancakes and bacon. I remember her driving me to school and the sun glowing down on us. Everything was so beautiful...drenched in gold."

There was a long pause. I thought the physical pain might've come back, but his face only looked sad, his eyes trained on the dirt. I had a sudden urge to hug him.

"I remember a huge impact and an airbag breaking my nose. The shriek and groan of metal was deafening. But my mother's screams felt even louder. Blood-curdling. It sounded like her throat was ripping apart."

He wouldn't meet my eyes. His shoulders were hunched forward, making him look smaller, like a child.

"She was trapped in the car. Someone pulled me out through the window, but her legs were pinned. A truck had hit us from behind while we waited at a red light. At high speed. Our car crinkled like an accordion."

"Then I remember a blazing fire and billowing smoke. Her screams went quiet. I thought she was dead." His voice was slow and somber. "After hours of agonizing waiting at the hospital, we learned that she wasn't. But she would be incapable of taking care of herself ever again. She would need constant help—with everything." He went silent for a moment, his adam's apple rising and falling as he swallowed. "So my father left her as soon as he could."

He glanced at me, then away again as a spasm of pain crossed his face. "I refused to live with him, and my mother...was deemed unfit, of course..." he trailed off. "So they sent me to a military boarding school. Then I did basic training and became a soldier. And...you know the rest."

___________

warning: depressing

you could say Kyle's mother's story was "inspired" by my aunt, except she did not survive. It happened years before I was born, but I've heard the horror in my father's voice when he speaks of her accident.