The Evolving

Wacky Dice

Garret

The great muddy river roars loudly in my ears as my tired feet drag along the bank. The sun is beginning to set and I need to find shelter soon. An old factory building comes into view and I stop in my tracks. It's a good place to hold up for the night but it's also a good place for mutants to hold up during the day. After a moment of consideration, I turn on my heel and walk off to the right towards a main road. It'll probably be better to find a smaller building to camp out in for the night.

Tomorrow I'll reach the Republic border and start looking for a checkpoint. The checkpoint should have a computer I can hack and figure out where the hell my Chloe is. Tomorrow will also mark one month since they took her. It took way too long to cross the mountains but hopefully, now that I'm in the Midwest the terrain will be easier to cross and the mutants will be in less quantity.

Suddenly a screeching noise in the direction of the old factory catches my attention. I stop in my tracks, my blood running cold. No matter how many times I hear that blood-curdling screech I'll never get used to it. The long screech comes to an end and silence follows in its wake. Nothing, not bird chirps nor a squirrel stirs, it's as if every living thing for miles senses the danger. Judging by the type of screech, it's a thrasher, a somewhat intelligent type of mutant that likes to hunt in packs. The republic military calls them Class T-Mutants but I find "Thrasher to be more suitable.

A bird's warning call cuts into the silence like a knife and I pull out my machete. It's too bad I am out of bullets for my gun. Very carefully, I make my way to the old road and start walking away from the building. The sun just barely shines through the branches of the forest around me and I pray silently to come across some shelter soon. If I can find a place a hold up before the sun sets I just might be okay. Most of the formidable mutants don't like to come out during the day because the sun hinders their vision.

Another screech farther in the distance rings out from behind me. I turn to see if I can see anything but the waning light hinders my own vision. The first mutant responds to the second and I begin to realize their communicating with each other. Most likely gearing up for a hunt. I really hope it's not me they are going to hunt tonight.

Just then a rustling sound to my right catches my attention and I turn just in time to see a blur of bare flesh sprint in my direction. I quickly react by swinging my machete, making contact with its neck. The creature squeals and jumps back, giving me a better look at it. Its slender naked body is covered in dirt and dried blood and fresher, more dark blood oozes from the wound I inflicted on its neck. The Thrasher is a young male, if it stood up straight you would think it's human from a distance but up this close to it I can see the slitted eyes and holes it has for ears, hallmark traits of a humanoid mutant. The thrasher has long talon-like fingers with sharp edges, hence the nickname. Its teeth are sharp but not much longer than a man's teeth, this particular mutant hisses at me showing off his teeth that are stained yellow.

Luckily the sun is in his eyes and I gear up for a fight, feeling confident I can take it out. Suddenly, the screech from the original mutant rings out again and the one in front of me stops snarling at me and looks around himself, sniffing the air. I watch in bewilderment as he takes off into the woods again without even bothering to give me another look. This is some really strange behavior for these things. Especially the males, they tend to like a good fight. It's then that I realize that the calls from the original thrasher sound like warning calls. My blood runs cold, there's something more dangerous than a thrasher out there right now, and they're gearing up for a fight. I wait a few moments to make sure it's not coming back and then turn to jog down the road. If I have to I'll find myself a tree to climb and hide up in tonight.