Genetics

Chapter One

Fifteen years later

Leaving him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. He’d taught me how to survive – how to build shelter, create traps to catch the rain. He gave me my first knife, showed me the rock I’d need to keep it sharp.

My father was… everything. And I left him lying on the floor, for the animals to desecrate his body.

It was the smart choice. If I had buried him, like we had my mother many winters ago, they would’ve known I was out there. I couldn’t believe no one would ever find the small cabin we’d called home – we’d been lucky so far, but every once in a while we’d hear a plane and knew our luck would die. They’d find us and if I’d buried him, like I so dearly wanted to, they would know I was out there. No human would ever bury a Genetic.

So I picked up his coat – the only other thing he owned besides the clothes he wore – packed up what little food we had, swung my canvas bag onto a shoulder and started to walk.

Days like these, I can’t stop thinking about it. I know I’m safer, this way. And I know it wasn’t my father I left. My father was gone by then – that was just skin and bones. But sometimes I wish I’d done it differently. Been brave enough not to care if they knew I existed. After all, the city was about a nine days walk from that little cabin.
         
Most Genetics hate the city. It’s easy enough to see why – a couple of million people all gathered together in one place. If any of those people – just one – saw us, a Genetic, they’d kill us. Or turn us over to be killed. The difference ain’t much.

But it’s easy to survive here. If you know where to go, there’s food. Sleep by day, travel by night. At night, everything looks different. Scary to some, fun to others. Me? Under the street lights, my white skin looks kind of yellow. Kind of normal. As long as no one gets too close but like I said, I’m good at hiding.

And on days like these I lie on the roof of some building, covered by a blue plastic blanket and in betweens thoughts of the cabin and my parents I listen to the world pass by. I swear you humans are the strangest creatures. You’re all so annoyed by each other and yet equally obsessed.

Today, the city seemed nosier then normal. Maybe that was just because I desperately in need of sleep – the past few days, some people have been doing things with large machines that spit noise into the air like fumes. Instead of enjoying the chatter of the people walking on the pavement below, all I could do was bunch my fists over my ears and try to block it out.

The plastic blanket was annoying, making noises every time I moved while becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I drifted off a few times, waking up often and by the time night fell I felt even more tired. But the hunger in my stomach reminded me I had to find food – sleep could wait.

Pushing the blanket off, I rose to my feet, yawning. Throwing the hood from my green jacket over my hair, I picked up my canvas bag, slung it over my shoulder and walked towards the edge of the roof lining the back alleyway, wincing slightly. My shoes had died a few months ago and I hadn’t found another pair yet – a fact my feet kept on reminding me about.

Climbing onto the edge of the roof, I grabbed hold of the rusty ladder and gently climbed down, dropping the last few feet to the ground. Crouching down, I moved aside a stack of old magazines and studied the markings on the wall. Five scratches.

I flicked out a razor. Well… I suppose you’d call it a claw. I don’t have fingernails in the traditional sense – just smooth skin where the fingernail should be. At the top of each finger my razors sit in the skin. When they flick up, there’s a dark pink gap where they normally reside and when they retract, looks kinda like a black stripe. Truthfully? A claw is what an animal has. And I'm not going to let you turn me into an animal.

Five scratches – today would make it six, six days I’d slept here. Six days meant it was time to move on, any longer and I risked discovery. I sighed slightly as I straightened. I’d come back for the blanket later; first, food. The alleyway was black, hidden from the streetlights that lined the road. Pulling the hood further over my head, I pulled the ends of my sleeves over my hands and started to walk. Traffic was still heavy but walkers were dying down – only a couple, most on the other side of the road. Most paid no attention to me – I didn’t look like much with my dirty feet, holes in my jeans and a dirty jacket.

As I walked, the traffic slowly died down. I stayed away from the core generally – in there, the city never dies. So I stayed in the edges. Oh, near enough to benefit from the many useful sites but far enough that I didn’t have to worry too much. I was leaving the day area now – you refer to them as ‘shops’. There were a lot of them, all over the city and I normally choose them to stay in. They generally have flat roofs and more importantly, even though people only ever visited them during the day – time when I was trying to sleep – most people never even glanced at the roof. But with the houses, people tend to notice. I don’t really understand the difference, but hey. It works for me.

Right now I was in the house area. There wasn’t anybody around but I could see a lot of lights as I walked. Finding a house with no lights, I glanced around before pulling of my hood and moving through the garden. Walking to the side of the house, I crouched by the tap and twisted it. Water trickled out gently and I placed my mouth underneath, drinking greedily. When I had my fill, I moved my head underneath, enjoying the water as it ran through my hair and down my back.

Turning off the tap, I moved away from the house, vigorously shaking my wet head before slipping my hood back up. I walked down a few more streets, headed to another day area on the other side of the houses. This one was different from the other one. The buildings were bigger and instead of that stuff – I don't know what it’s called, but it doesn’t look like something is there even though you can feel it. Like an invisible wall or something. Anyway, these buildings didn't have that, they had metal instead. Large sheets of it- they opened somehow to let the people in.

These buildings had different stuff inside them, too. Fruit, vegetables. The kind of food I need to stop my insides rotting. At least that's what my mum used to say. See, dad taught me how to survive. Mum taught me everything else.

Most days, if you look hard, you can find stuff on the ground. Sure, it doesn’t look pretty. Doesn’t really taste pretty either. But apples, those orange things and lettuce leafs. I try not to visit more then once every few weeks – if I'm lucky, I can gather enough to last that long. I don't want to get into a habit. Habit gets you killed.

*~*~*~*~*

The engine roared, hungrily eating up the road. “What's happening, Merk?” Leory yelled, pressing his foot down on the accelerator. “Nothing out here,” Merk replied, shouting over the wind streaming across the back of the ute. He adjusted the large spotlight, peering out into the bushes. “Kid couldn't have gotten far. Local said he was hurt.” In the passengers seat, Ben cocked his shotgun, sighting down the barrel. “Maybe we should've gotten Merk some glasses instead of a spotlight – damn Genetic can't be that hard to spot.”

Merk banged on the back window of the truck. “Hey Leory! We've got company!” Leroy glanced in the rear-view mirror, swearing as he caught sight of the flashing red and blue lights. Pulling over to the side, the men raised their hands as a police officer walked over to them. Peering in the window, he indicated for them to get out of the car. “Got a licence for those, boys?” He asked, eyeing their shotguns.

Ben reached into the glovebox compartment, pulling out the necessary papers. “All legal.” He handed them over with a small, tight smile.

The officer scanned the documents, than glanced at their ute. “Word is someone's hunting Genetics in this area.”

“And is that a problem, officer?” Lerory asked with a smile.

“Out here it ain't. Will be if you take it to the city.”

“Don't worry; the people we hunt won't be confused with ordinary folk,” Merk said with a grin.

“That isn't my problem.” The policeman said sharply. “A couple of people higher then me are interested in one Genetic in particular. It's supposed to be in Sira.”

“Huh,” Lerory's eyes grew hard, “Never known anyone to care what happened to a Gen before.”

“This ones different.” He handed back their papers. “Tell you what, though. If you do find a Genetic in or around Sira, we might just be happy to pay you for it, as long as it’s the one we want. And if its not, couple of extra hours won't hurt, surely.”

The men exchanged glances. “How much are we talking about?”

*~*~*~*~*

The edge of the world was getting lighter, rays of light piercing the black sky. I frowned deeply, fear tugging at my chest. I hadn't found a place yet-  I hadn't even picked up my blanket yet. I'll just have to ditch it, I thought with a sigh. I didn't have time now to get it and I couldn't risk going back tomorrow. Six days was pushing it. Seven would be stupid. I mean, sure, chances are I wouldn't be discovered. But if you take enough chances you’re gonna get burnt eventually. One chance for me was one chance too many.

There were houses in every direction. People were still fast asleep, but the lighter the sky grew, the more dangerous it would become. You guys have some really weird habits- you get up and just run. Not anywhere in particular, most of the time you wind up back where you started. Sometimes animals are involved, on some kind of rope. I don't really get it, but hey, what else is new.

There was a drain nearby, the cover slightly ajar. I dropped to the ground, peering through the crack in the gutter. It looked big enough. Climbing to my feet, I found a strong-looking stick and used it move the cover away. Then I had a bit of a hunt around until I found a couple of small stones and slid them into my pocket. Grasping hold of the ladder on the edge of the drain, I climbed about halfway down so I was still in reach of the cover and placed one of the rocks on the edge of the concrete hole. Then I dropped to the ground.

The drain looked fairly comfy, with lots of leaves on the floor. Shifting aside a couple of rocks and different bugs I moved the leaves into a big pile and dropped my backpack next to them. Climbing back up the ladder, I gently eased the cover back over the hole. The rock stopped it from closing properly although it was only a small gap so presumably no one outside would notice. That was the plan, anyway.

Two tunnels went in opposite directions at the bottom of the drain – they looked like I could probably fit through, provided I went on my stomach. Sitting down in the corner, I glanced down the tunnels. Light was beginning to filter in through the gap in the gutter and if I looked hard enough I could see small rays of light down both tunnels. It looked like they had big drains at the end of them, much like the one I was sitting in now. Grabbing my backpack, I pulled it open and glanced inside. I still had a bit of bread left from a garbage run a few days ago, plus two apples from today. I'd already eaten the lettuce – dosen't really keep very well.

The temptation to take a few bites from an apple was strong. They taste way better then bread, anyday, especially bread like this. I don't know why humans eat so much of it – those white and blue fuzzy bits are disgusting, so I always eat around them. But then again, maybe you’re just used to it. Still, I'd already had some veg today and these apples would be my only source of fruit for the next few weeks. And I really didn't want my insides to rot.

After eating a few mouthfuls of bread, enough to keep me going until night, I looked back down the tunnels. The light was fairly bright by now – enough to see the other drain areas fairly well. Slinging my backpack across my shoulders, I lay down on my stomach and wriggled down to the other drain. It was exactly like the one I had just left, except there weren't as many leaves and no rocks. But even more bugs, if that was possible. Climbing up the ladder, I pulled another stone from my pocket and gently pushed up the cover, enough to slip one of the stones underneath. I then returned to my drain and did the same thing with the other tunnel.

Satisfied, I settled back down in the pile of leaves. It still wasn't the best option, being closed in like this. But at least now I had a few extra exits, even if they were all within a few meters of each other. Resting my head on my bag, I buried into the leaves, shivering slightly as the wetness touched my skin.

I woke up to something hard falling on my face. Springing upward, I looked around wildly, heart hammering. I could hear chatter from outside and I spotted a small yellow round thing on the ground that must've hit me. I retracted the razors from my right hand so I could pick up the object. It was slightly fuzzy and it occurred to me that I'd seen it before. You use it to throw to each other, yet another thing I don't understand because all that person does is throw it back.

As I stared at the circle I realized I could hear the noise of the cover getting moved. I grabbed my pack and dove into one of the tunnels, wriggling further into the darkness as light flooded the drain I had just left. Twisting around onto my back, I lifted my head slightly, enough to watch as a pair of legs dropped into view. They were too small to belong to a person – they would have to belong to a little one. The legs were moving and then hands joined them, rummaging through the leaves. A face appeared, looking around with confusion. It was a female, with really long blonde hair.

And then I realized I was still holding the yellow object just as the face turned to look down the tunnel. I don't think she saw me – I blocked the entire tunnel, so it must've just looked like dark shadows. “Sarah, can you see it?” A voice shouted from above, sounding muffled through the concrete.

“No.” Sarah called back. “It must've gone down one of these tunnels.”

“Then go get it!”

The disgust was obvious on her face. “Ew, I'm not going down there. It's dirty.”

Why did that matter, I wondered in confusion. She walked on dirt every day, didn't she? Well, okay, a lot of the city had concrete instead of grass. But there was still a lot of dirt. What was the difference?

“It’s our last ball!” The voice from above was angry now and Sarah pulled a strange face, her bottom lip poking out from her mouth. “Okay, fine!” She dropped down to her knees and stuck her head into the tunnel and than started to scream. “Max! There’s someone down here!”

I panicked, quickly wriggling backwards as fast as I could, gritting my teeth as my head banged against the roof of the tunnel. Reaching the other drain, I bolted up the ladder, pushing the cover with all of my strength and climbing out of the hole. The light was blinding after the dark and for a few seconds I stood there, disoriented as my vision swam. And then my eyes adjusted and focused on a group of little ones. A few were screaming loudly but most were just staring, mouths open.

I turned and I ran. It was broad daylight and although there weren't that many people around the houses, there would be no cover either. Spices! I swore, turning onto another road. A male was standing next to a car, mouth wide open like the little ones. But he reacted a lot quicker, grabbing a nearby rock and hurling it at me whilst shouting loudly, words and phrases I didn't understand except for the occasionally 'Genetic'.

I gritted my teeth against the stinging pain in my shoulder from where the rock hit and kept running, the gravel scraping against my feet. Luckily, the human didn't chase after me – I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I knew more people would be here soon and everywhere I looked... houses. Row upon row of houses sat on either side of the road, offering no hiding place, no shelter.

Desperate, I ran over to a nearby car, dropped to my stomach, and rolled underneath. It was a pathetic hiding place – clearly visible from all directions. But for a few minutes it would do. Above me, the sky rumbled and I glanced up, still panting from fear and adrenaline. It was going to storm soon and the rain made me uneasy. I had to find shelter, soon.

I scanned the area around me. As I had noticed before, most of it was houses. But as I searched for way out, my gaze fell on a white sign post a few feet away from the car. Wriggling forward as far as I could go without leaving my cover, I peered at the small mark at the bottom. It looked to be black paint, about half a centimetre wide and two centimetres long.  I’d heard of this, although I’d never seen it before. A few years ago, right before my mum died, my family had met another Genetic. It’s pretty rare for us to see each other – we’re all so good at hiding from everyone. She was the first Genetic I’d ever seen apart from my family and she was the one to tell me about the city. She also mentioned this, the marks on the signposts.

I moved from my cover, got to my feet and headed down the street the signpost pointed to. The first few droplets hit my face and before I found a similar mark on the gutter – except this one was a couple of small black splotches, as if someone had dropped some paint - it was pouring. The rain seemed to stop people from going outside for the street was completely empty as I cautiously walked into the garden. Reaching the front door, I bent down, studying the dirt. It had been smoothed down, so it would be safe to enter the house.

I reached out and drew my razor through the dirt, a small scratch to warn any other Genetics that I was in there. If another Genetic came along, the chances of them leaving without meeting me were slim; after all, we rarely meet one of our own kind now days. But they would need to be a lot more careful entering a building with another Genetic in it, in case one of us was tracked. It’s a survival thing.

I went around to the back of the house, checking windows as I went. In the backyard were a couple of large trees and I stopped instantly, staring at them in horror. The leaves were orange – half of the leaves had already fallen off the tree and were littering the grass. My mind flashed back to the leaves in the drain; how could I be so stupid as to not realize what that meant?

The cold is coming. The thought made me shiver, fear squeezing my heart. I wouldn't make it through, not this time. Every year, without fail, I'd gotten sick but so far I'd managed to fight. But since the last cold time things had been difficult and I'm a lot thinner then I was last year. If I got sick again... I pushed the thought from my mind. I'd figure something out. I'd have to.

One of the windows towards the back had been left open and I climbed inside. I was standing in a dining area, a large table with four chairs in front of me. Cans and boxes of food covered most of the table; a few were empty, so I wasn’t the first visitor.

Safe houses were rare. Half-gens normally just try to live a normal life and who can blame them? If people discovered who they were, they’d be dead. After all, even though most half-gens look normal, their insides ain’t. But occasionally a half-gen comes along whose willing to take the risk. Oh, it’s not like their greeting us at the door with milk or cookies or anything. They’ll always go away on holidays for a few weeks and when they get back the paint, which they 'accidently' dropped, would be cleaned up from their gutter right away. And they won’t do it again for a few years, even if they take a legit holiday.

But they give us food and blankets, clothes and the knowledge that hey, I’m not the only Genetic left out there. They haven’t forgotten we’re out there and sometimes that’s enough.

Picking up one of the cans left on the table, I studied the label. Some sort of round purple thing – looked like a fruit, maybe veg. There was a strange device nearby, a neatly drawn picture attached to show how to use it, apparently to open cans. Grasping the opener, I opened the handles, comparing the machinery to the picture. So if I placed it on the can like this, closed the handle so that bit touched the metal, turned this bit on top…

Liquid seeped out from the top of the can as it the opener cut through the metal. “Cool.” I muttered, pulling off the cut metal. The edge cut across my finger as I broke it free. I looked at my bleeding finger then at the can lid. That wasn’t a weapon, surely? No, it couldn’t be. People put their food in that. But why would they if it cut them?

Carefully dropping the lid onto the table, I picked up the can and gently prodded the edge. It was a lot smoother so I figured it was safe enough and poured some of the contents into my mouth, eating hungrily. It tasted fantastic and within minutes I had eaten the entire can. Wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I placed the empty can on the table near the other empty things. You didn't take more then one because any extra you took wasn't stealing from someone who had plenty. It was stealing from other Genetics, hungry, cold and hiding from the world.

The rest of the house was rather simply. Door were closed to rooms I wasn't supposed to enter, doors open to rooms I was welcome in. Inside one room were a stack of thin wollen blankets and I picked up one with relief, stuffing it into my pack. Without my plastic one the night would be freezing but now I had a replacement.

Another room had some clothes. I went through the shoes and much to my delight there were some old black boots that were wearable. They were too big, but the important thing was they fit over my foot. Sliding them on, I walked around experimentally. The relief was insaltaenous. Sure, the hard leather rubbed against my skin. But I couldn't feel the floor I was walking on and it was fantastic.

After a bit more exploring I discovered the bathroom. Back at the cabin we'd had a toilet, even though after a few years the plumbing had died. But I'd never seen the other things sitting in the room. Judging from the pictures taped neatly next to them, one was making your body wet and one was for making your hands wet. It didn't really make sense as to why you couldn't just wet your hands in the one for your body but I guess you have your reasons.

I crossed over to the body one. It had that strange invisible wall stuff but after a bit of prodding I discovered that moved to the right and let me inside. More pictures – one was of ice, one was of fire. One had an arrow that pointed to a nozzle – like the one you find on a tap, just bigger with a weirder shape – with a picture of a waterfall.

I touched the metal nozzle. It moved, so I moved it down so it no longer pointed at me and then gently turned the handle with the picture of ice attached. Water trickled out of the nozzle and when I touched it it was cold. The water went down the wall, onto the floor and into some kind of tiny drain. Then when I turned the handle with the fire picture, the water grew warmer. “Huh.”

Pulling off my boots, I put them closer to the door so they couldn't get wet. After a few moments of thought, I put my jacket down there too and then returned to the waterfall, as I decided it should be called. Carefully adjusting the fire handle so that the water was nice and hot, I moved the nozzle back up and stepped underneath. Water flooded over me in a torrent; for a few seconds I stood there spluttering before I discovered if you faced away from the water it seemed to miss your face and just go over your hair and body. Within minutes my clothes were completely soaked, my jeans squelching slightly with my movment. After a while I took them off to make sure I got completely clean before turning the water off and getting dressed again, pulling on my boots and jacket.

Its strange. I felt happy. My stomach was full for the first time since I could remember, the dirt was gone from my body and clothes plus the shower had warmed me up completely. It was just.. nice.

Next to the hand water thing were a bunch of toothbrushes and toothpaste. I picked up one of each eagerly. I'd run out of toothpaste almost a year ago and it would be great to replace my brush – I'd had the same brush since I was a kid and it probably only had half of its bristles yet But I didn't want my teeth to fall out, so I kept using it anyway. I wondered if they knew as I headed for the window I came in. Did they know how much I needed this? Well, I guess they did. Otherwise they wouldn't have done it. Still, I'm glad they thought of something so simple as a toothbrush.

Reaching the window, I peered out at the sky. It was still raining heavily so it made it difficult to tell how close it was to the dark. Pushing the window open completely, I sat down on the floor, just out of reach for the rain, pulling out the blanket I had picked up earlier. Spreading it over me, I lay down on the floor. Wincing as my shoulder touched the ground, I sat up again. Shrugging my jacket off my shoulders, I peeled back the edge of my t-shirt, peering at the large bruise decorating my skin. “How hard can that guy throw?”

I glanced around the room uneasily. I didn't like the idea of sleeping with my back to the room but I can't sleep unless I'm on my side. Stupid, huh? I move in my sleep, I know I do. But I don't wake up then, so I don't know why it Trenters but try telling my... well, whatever makes me go to sleep, I don't really know. Brain, I guess. Try telling my brain that.

My gaze fell on a powerpoint in the corner and I twisted my head, looking at the rain as it fell through the open window, wetting the carpet a foot or so from where I lay. What had dad told me about the rain? Something about rain being a conductor. Like if the lightning touched rain everything else touching the rain would get struck by the lightning. At least I think thats what he was saying. And theres the problem, right there. He tried to explain it but I never really understood. So if I was to stop the pain in my shoulder, would everyone out in the rain get hurt?

I glanced down at the bruise on my shoulder again. It had a couple of different colours other than purple – yellow and green and a kind of blue. That meant it was a bad bruise which explained why it hurt so much when I lay down. How much would it take?

I flicked my eyes back to the powerpoint and instantaneously, happening even as I thought it, the powerpoint sparked and I blinked, my hands tingling. It only took a second and then I lay back down with no pain as my shoulder touched the ground. I hadn't removed the bruise. Just... removed the pain from the bruise. I can't explain it because I don't know myself. My parents always just told me that while they, the original Genetics, started out strong and grew weak the Pures, like me, grew strong. They said all Pures could... do things.

I'm not sure what it is, exactly, that I can do. I know my parents can't do it. Stop pain, things like that. But thats just a trick, something simple. I don't have to use electricity either but its quicker if I do. Most of the time I don’t, simply because the electricity is dangerous. And like I said, stopping pain is just a trick – I can do a lot more. Think of it this way. When you want to move, without any real conscious decision on your part, you move. What I'm saying is your brain basically does most of the work without too much fuss from you, yeah? Well the best way for me to explain what I do would be to tell you no, not for me. I have... control over everything. I let  my brain do most things for me – I don't want to have to focus on breathing, for example – but I don't have to. And not just me. I have the same sort of control over other people too. And your probably not going to understand that and I know you won't understand how that feels. But to give you a hint; sometimes I think I really should be hunted because of what I can do... well, lets just say I even scare myself sometimes.

I woke up a while later. It was night now but the rain was still going. Is it ever going to end? I wondered as I climbed to my feet. Bundling the blanket back into my pack, I threw my hood over my head and climbed out the window. I wouldn't have time to look for food tonight – shelter was my main priority. Dropping lightly to the ground, I walked back to the front of the house. Smoothing my mark out of the dirt, I threw my pack over one shoulder and started to walk. Reaching the end of the street, I paused, looking in both directions. I could picture the route I'd taken perfectly but I didn't want to go back there. If I was going to find new shelter it would have to be a good distance from my previous location. So I turned and I walked down the road to my right.

I don't know how long I had been walking when I first heard it. The roar of an engine. A yell. And at first I just stopped, turning to glance down the road behind me. Normally an engine is enough to get me off the road but I don't know, something inside me just froze. It was just one of those weird moments when I knew something really bad was about to happen.

As I stood there a large car, a strange car, came around the corner. It looked like someone had cut a car in half and then attached a metal trailer on wheels. Inside the trailer a man stood with the largest light I'd ever seen. It shone in my eyes, pinning me to the road as the car grew nearer. There was another yell and then, as if waking for a dream, I ran. I knew better then to run down the road so I ran across, off the road and onto footpath. There were these wooden barrier things so the car just followed beside me, the huge light following my movements.

I felt the air move as something whizzed over my head; I ducked instinctively, stumbling slightly. I managed to righten myself without falling over and kept running, my boots making strange thudding noises on the wet pavement. Behind me I could hear yells. “You’re not supposed to kill it, Ben!”

“I'm just scaring it some – man's gotta have some fun. Pass me the tranquilizer, will ya?”

The words frightened me far more then the strange car or the light. What was a tranquilizer and what was it going to do to me? It'd have to be pretty bad if they were risking not killing me to use it. I'd heard stories of horrible things the humans had done to us, but I'd always figured... we're always so scared, you know? And when you’re that scared, stories arise. But I'd  always believed they were just that, stories.

I felt the shot before my ears registered the noise. It stung, like my bruise had, a pain in my arm. When I glanced down something red was sticking a few centimetres out of my skin; even as I registered it I stumbled, as if losing control of my body for a second. I heard car doors slam behind me and I turned on wobbly legs to see three men walking towards me.

Its some kind of poison… I realized as my head swam. I was fighting it, concentrating to fight the blackness that kept on trying to shut me down. But I kept losing concentration, my eyes flickering towards the men and every time I felt myself grow dizzier. “Don’t-“ I took a step backwards, my razors springing up as I raised my hands. One of the men approached and I swung wildly, missing him completely as my vision swam. My concentration broke completely as he grabbed my hand and as my last act my other hand swung up, three of my razors drawing blood on his cheek. As I felt my legs buckle I heard him say that I was going to pay for that. But by then I was too far gone to care.