Flee (Team Crafted Fanfiction) -Sequel to Run.

Chapter 9- Repeat

Adam's POV

He smiles. "Just wait. Until I get my answer, you're going to have plenty of fun."

I want to punch you. I don't have your answer.

Screw it.

Using all my might, I roll I swing my fist up into his cheek. He grunts and falls backwards. I climb to my feet unsteadily as he does the same.

"Sky," he growls, " you're going to regret that."

My eyes flash. "You used," I take a deep breath, "to call me Adam."

He spits. "Adam is my good friend, the co-leader of our group. You are Sky. A traitor and a spy."

I raise my fists in a defensive position. "Once more, I don't get how I can be a traitor or a spy."

He mimics my position. "You turned on us, Sky. You had everything."

If my eyes could turn red, they would. "I had a lie!" I scream. "A lie for a life! Tell me, no, listen. I want this one thing. You gave me only lies. I deserve one truth. Tell me Jason. How did you really find me? Because Team Crafted told me an interesting story."

He laughs coldly. "Team Crafted. What kind of name it that, anyway? But you know this, don't you? They were your old group. Whatever they told you was most likely true."

My arms drop. "I was in their group? You said they attacked me!"

He shakes his head. "Sky, we already established what was a lie. I was just trying to give you a life."

Something clicks in my mind. "Jason, do you know my last name?" He falters. His expression, his stance, everything. Whatever he expected me to say, it wasn't that.

"I, uh, no. I don't know your last name."

My face contorts in fury and I draw back into an attack position. "Team Crafted did. When they arrested me, they said it."

Jason remains in a defensive position, eyes wary. "I know. Why do you keep up an act?"

"It's not an act! I'm a Cavet!" I scream. I launch forward and strike him in the side. Before he can recover, I am back on defense.

"Cavets don't attack their leader."

He darts forward and lands two blows at my stomach before I can react. By the time I've lowered my arms to protect my stomach, he's back on defense as well. I'm too thin, too weak to fight. He knows that. Every blow he lands on me hurts way more than it should.

Without warning, I jump forward and tackle him around the waist. He cries out and slaps at my back, but then we crack against the wall. While he is dazed, I kick his legs out from under him. He collapses to the floor, and I kick him in the head for good measure. I bend down next to his head.

"You know," I whisper, "this is how I escaped from Team Crafted. The other Jason also had a little chat with me. You both ended up in the same spot. You trained me well, Jason." He groans and grabs at his ears. With a quick downward strike with my palm, he goes limp. I stand up and stretch.

"You know," I mutter to myself, "people seem to be underestimating me quite a bit lately just because I have a few bullet wounds."

Jason stirs on the floor. "Maybe that's because normally, people with one half healed bullet wound, an old stab wound, a healing nose, dehydration and famine are in a lot of pain and exhausted. You are literally acting against all nature of the human body."

I nod. "Seems about right."

He pulls himself into a sitting position. "Not joking. If any scientific calculations are correct, you should probably be extremely dizzy right now."

Ok, so I have been dizzy for a while now. Big deal. I shrug.

He nods. "Then I should be able to do this fairly easily....." his feet shoot out from under him and connect with my legs. They give way and I topple to the floor in a groan of pain. He pulls himself off the floor, expressionless. He examines me as I lay on the floor, eyes closed, trying to rid myself of the pounding in my head.

"You probably don't know this, but I was a medic in the army before all this went down. Needless to say, I did a lot of research. You could help me get back into my research."

I laugh slightly, eyes still closed. "I get the feeling I wouldn't like your research very much."

He shakes his head. "Probably not." Quick as a snake, he pulls a knife from his belt and makes a short slash on my arm. I scream and flip onto my stomach, cradling the cut.

"Day one of my research. Does participant respond differently to pain over time. Notes are- participant showed high levels of pain and immediately tried to protect himself. Will try again tomorrow." He snorts. "Night night, Sky."