The Special People

Chapter 77

“I never gave you my name,” I tell her as her face morphs to a slender face with ocher eyes and sea glass colored hair. She stares at me with blank eyes as her body begins to break down into dust, confirming that this is a created feral. That book wasn’t lying, and she was trying to isolate me. That can only mean one thing, and that is to run.

I whistle loudly when that realization hits me. I get to my feet as a sense of impending doom starts creeping in. I strap my blade to my thigh as I look at the corpses of the dead ferals; giving further evidence that they were born and not created.

I swing onto Wilson. “Yole,” I say as I double tap her leg. I feel her legs slip slightly as she tries to gain traction on the ground. My signal is for her to not stop, no matter what. She knows there is danger when I do this, so she lets out a massive roar, making birds fly out of the trees, calling for her brothers and sisters.

Only ten minutes into our run, I hear a dark chuckling. “There is my litt