Subject No. 5

You can really tell when your welcome somewhere when you can literally hear the wisp of bullets brushing your hair as you run with your tail on fire. Yeah, not.

I jumped, narrowly missing the brick wall as I landed on the rooftop. My bare feet jarred into the broken pieces of cement as I sprinted next to the others, checking to make sure none were missing. A lot of them sent a worried pang through me when I heard the race of their hearts, the huffing of their breath. But they were either the perfect troopers or running off of pure adrenaline and terror to keep going because none of them slowed down or complained. It was hard for me especially, because it proved to be more difficult to go at your picture of a jog at a time of life or death then to go faster than your limit. A little confusing? Yeah, welcome to my life.

A bullet exploded in a piece of discarded plywood and splashed my legs with pricks. I skipped over it and ended up next to one particularly dust-headed male. He looked at me in mild perplexity, and yes I say mild in this situation, and says, "What are you doing? You should be to Canada by now."

Oh please. Like Canada would be my first stop for a joy ride. "I thought I'd hang with you guys. You seem like a fun little clique."

He smirked at that, and then focused in front of him as running at full speed became difficult. Without looking at me, he said in his do-what-I-say-right-now-or-regret-it tone, "You should go ahead of us to see what we're looking at."

I frowned. "We'd get separated."

"Go anyways. You'll find us afterwards. Find a decent spot and then come back for us." Like that, I was shut down like a soaked phone. I gave him my favorite by choice glare, which he obviously saw at the back of his head. It wasn't like I would have given up much of a fight though. It was killing me to go at this pace.

With a rush of joy, gold flecks sparkled then stretched themselves into beautiful streaks around my vision as the others faded away. My vision increased as I ran, glorifying in the way that I could look back at the bullets and see the detailed persistence of a machine carving into them. I skipped over whole abandoned buildings, danced around scrapped leftovers of a life, and was greeted with a thirty foot tall chain-link bug-disintegrating fence.

The thing is, none of us had ever made it past the Central, so none of us knew what kept us from going bat crazy and running off to who the hockey sticks knew where. In my mind, I had pictured tanks, SUV s trucked out in flame flowers and machine guns, and trigger ready guards worthy of the navy seals of the world waiting patiently for their lasers to zoom in on our foreheads. A fence was definitely not on the guess list.

I heard the hum of electricity, so I wasn't stupid. I knew it was unlikely for there to be a ditch to crawl under. I also knew that all five of us jumping over it was close to zip.

Groaning a little, a turned on a dime and ran back, giving the report back to Mr. Bossy there. He nodded, and turned his head slightly and called, "Skip! Come up here!"

Almost drunkenly, our well known Skip stumbled up, his face all puffy from running and the back of his leg seeping crimson. His joints poked out awkwardly, and his shaggy hair fell in his eyes too often. If only if he would at least try to work those pretty dark pupils, he would at least be a little more easy on the eyes.

Without missing a beat, our head in charge said, "Go with Sammy. We'll catch up."

Skip looked at me with incredible disdain. Riding with me wasn't the most pleasant of experiences. I gave him a look and snatched his hand before he could get all weirded out when he gets around girls, and watched the gold seep into the earth.

Skip gasped at the colors, and I sped on. I felt his muscles tense and the nausea filling him through our fingertips as the Speed enveloped us both. It was overly unpleasant for outsiders that didn't have the gift of Speed to be forced into its complicated web of time. Though I might add, what-a-bunch-a wimps. It wasn't like they were going to die or anything.

In seconds, I stopped and we were in front of the gate. Skip went flying forward, only to be cut short at our conjoined hands and my lack of remembering that they didn't slow down; just me. Oops.

Skip stared at the fence and I could tell he could hear the electricity, because his head cocked like a bird that just saw its fat, juicy dinner steak. He nodded, and closed his eyes. I was stuck standing there awkwardly, waiting for his gift to deactivate the fence. Yep, his specialty was little gadgets that go beep-DA-beep. Oh, joy.

The vibrating was suddenly cut short like a squirrel messing with the land lines. He opened his eyes and nodded, hair draping into them. I could faintly hear the others approaching.

"Well, got any ideas for getting out?" I quizzed. His brow scrunched up and he turned to examine the fence again. I was getting anxious. I had to get out soon, or then the guards would come and do who-knows-what this time around. This had to be it. This had to be the final, last time, whether that meant snipping out like a light or getting a real view of the world that only reached us through TV screens. It just had to be.

The others came up behind us, and looked at the fence in incredible anxiety. I looked at Ren, A.K.A boss-man and wished I could write this on a calendar or something. Our own answer to everything guy had no idea how we were going to get out. Then again, my oh-so-obvious little conscious reminded me that I wouldn't be able to use a pen much less move at all once the guards snooped us out. Yeah, no panic attack, thanks.

"Um... Am I invisible here?" We all turned to Olive. Well, duh. Olive peered at us behind her heavy shades that we had found out of the wreckage a while ago, her ash blonde hair shifting slightly. Not letting us poke a word in she marched up to the fence and slowly removed the glasses. Her multicolored eyes glowered at the metal. They turned lava red, and the metal began to fold in on itself with loud creaks of outrage. Nervously I looked over my shoulder, and heard the chop chop of a chopper.

The metal turned to orange fire as it melted at the edges. I wanted to scream, hurry up we're about to be bullet food, but was scared to disrupt the delicate focus Olive has to use to use the Sight. Finally, the metal grudgingly gave up an opening, which we all scuffled through in no order at all.

I don't know what I expected. Maybe the well known strip malls we silently dreamed about, or a highway washed in blaring cars filled with Normals. Or maybe a getaway car, idling quietly for its convicts to put it into drive. I guess that was a little out of question though, because what we got were high pine trees the size of an apartment complex scratching against our goose bumps and making everything sticky with sap. Not a pleasant experience.

The only up was that it was thick enough that the chopper at our heels couldn't see us. It helped that the air currents from its 'wings' slapped at the branches, making the whole circus we were trying to move invisible as we bumped every twig possible. We held hands to keep us from losing each other. I kept my head down, focusing on the pressure of our fingertips to lead us. Something grazed my arm, and I hissed through my teeth. I was so going to be sore in the morning.

The chopper flew over us, and Ren told us to be quiet with a finger to his lips. We waited five minutes, and I felt like I was going to scream, just for the satisfaction of disturbing the silence. Birds started to chirp over our heads, escalating as they each traded stories of their absolutely horrifying experience of sitting on a branch as the Big Bird went over them. Slowly, we all stood up from our crouch. Glowingly, Skip said, "We're out. We're finally out!"

We grinned like a bunch of morons at each other. Then, like disinfectant to bacteria, Ren said, "We aren't free yet. We still need to get as far away from that place as possible. Let's go."

We followed like good little duckies and navigated through the dark. I tried not to inhale ghats. Good source of protein, but just ugh.

Dawn crept up. Still no sign of the guards. As the light slowly encircled us, Ren held up his hand and we collapsed on the ground in a big heap. Walking for hours wasn't pleasant in eighty-percent humidity. Ah, the great outdoors.

Ren went over us in slow inspection. We were all scraped up pretty good. Olive showed a scraped elbow when she had tripped over a branch, her definition of a casualty. Skip's back leg had a deep gash that was slowly healing, but at least had stopped gushing anything red a while ago. Ash, our other little groupie, had a battered back but nothing fancy. I was about to say I was good, until I noticed my arm tickled. A lot. Almost like little fire ants marching up and down in a military fashion. I turned my arm over, and gawked.

My whole upper arm had been shattered, probably parts of me being eaten by squirrels now. I could see the muscle of my bicep twitching. My stomach chocked.

"Oh, God." Olive peered at it like it was some weird bug behind her glasses, using a phrase we picked up when things got really serious from TV. Ren immediately crouched and stared it down, while Skip looked over without getting too close. Ash came to my side and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Uh... It doesn't really hurt." Oh, wait to go. Now they're really going to freak. "I mean, you guys know I heal fast. I'll be good."

"But Sammy, your arm is gone." Olive felt the need to vocalize. I wanted to say thanks I thought it was just hiding from me, saw Ren reading my mind, and stubbornly hushed myself.

"Hey, I'll heal. No big. Look, the blood is already slowing. So Skip, how's your leg doing?" I turned to him. My change of topic would have been less discrete if it wore Christmas lights, and I saw so much so in everyone's eyes. I rolled my eyes, then stared down the fleshy-gooey part of my arm. The dark curls that fell into my vision began to roll in gold, slicking out the humidity until they were delicate ringlets. If only they would look like that on a regular basis, I wouldn't complain as much. I saw the golden streaks begin to trace my shirt, then trickle down my arm. As their pace quickened, they jumped off my skin and began to circle my arm. They expanded, and the others backed up as the skin knitted together. My head filled with sharp daggers, escalating until they were poking every nerve in my brain. The thing is, when I sped up time on an injury when I'm not actually going through the Speed, all the pain that that person or thing would go through is shoved in my head all at once. Yeah, it can majorly suck some Popsicle.

When it finished, I said, "Skip, come here."

"Whoa, wait. I don't think-" Ren began. I ignored him, something that he hates, and scooted over to Skip's exposed leg. I grabbed it with both hands before the Speed left me hanging, and scrutinized the wound. The gold slipped on to his leg, circling it with flustered quick circles. The skin closed, and when the scar healed over I collapsed. Poor Skip; he wouldn't come near me for weeks after this. Firm hands clasped my shoulders, and I moaned a pathetic, "I don't wanna get up..." before being hauled to my feet. I groaned, and glared the full force of Sammy's Don't-Mess-With-Me-Or-I'm-Going-To-SO-Kill-You look at Ren. He put me carefully on the floor before backing up a respectful distance. Smart guy. I almost wanted him to try something with me. I would pay for it later, but it would still be satisfying.

"Ash. Let. Go. Of. Me." I hissed. Nothing could make me grumpier than using the Speed that way. He still held my shoulders, and if not tightened their grip. I turned my wattage famous glare on him, but he only met it back steadily. He was the only one that it didn't work on. I scowled, then turned my back on him. It wasn't very effective, since that meant I was practically rolling in the dirt and probably mouse poop now. Oh, joy.

After awhile, Ren said, "We need to get going. Come on, Sam."

I stood, and shook off Ash's grip. We walked for some more hours, hushing our stomachs and our worry heightening. How far from civilization was the Camp? Was it in the middle of nowhere? Do outsiders know about us? How would we look like from their view?

More importantly, who could we trust?

Then I noticed the trees. They were thinning out, becoming sturdy saplings instead of monstrous pines. The branches seemed less keen to slap us in the face than to hang over us and watch with the curious forest life. I really appreciated their modesty. I was getting sick of eating bark.

Then, I froze. The others stopped with me, crouching until they were under the cover of the more thicker branches. whoosh. whoosh. whoosh. Another chopper? No, that wasn't right. It was coming from ahead of us. Not in the air, but on the ground. Had they found us already? Ash cocked his head next to me, the only other one with extra hearing. He stared in the direction the sound was coming from, then went at a dead run. My stomach grew a rock, my chest squeezing, and I ran after him. I heard the clomp of feet behind me.

No way. No way. The trees began to give way, and I could begin to peek through them. Finally, gold encircled me and I ran as fast as my bare feet could carry me. My mind was already three steps ahead, picturing everything at once. Trash littered the ground, and I jumped over a glass bottle. Then I dug my feet into the dank weeds, and hair flew in my face. I blew it away. My jaw grew slack, my eyes wide, and something remarkable burst in my chest.

Hope. It was hope. We had finally, finally found civilization.

And it was a gas station. Not the most glorifying first sight of anything besides the broken and crumbling buildings we were used to, but I guess in our situation you would take what you could get. We had been planning the escape from the Camp for months, which sounds much more complicated than what it really was. For the first four it was more like, "We gotta find a way to get out of this place." or, "Why can't we go there? Lets leave."

Oh yeah. Very serious.

With a merry tune of bells, one of the double doors opened. A guy with average build, curly blonde hair, and a Coke walked towards an ugly blue rusted van. We exchanged looks. It wasn't how we wanted to start our extravagant new life, but you got to lose some to win some, right?

We waited until he had slipped in the drivers seat, then walked briskly from behind, mentally making us as nonchalant looking as a bunch of beaten, bloody, and gamy teenagers could look emerging from the woods. The van made an unhealthy rumble as it struggled for a few more breaths of life, and we jumped in the luckily unlocked back doors as it began to wobble out of the parking space.

The interior was laughably like what you would picture it. Furry red carpet covered every inch, and a shaggy looking plaid couch sat slumping at one side. A pair of yellow dice swung as the car turned onto a road. The guy switched on the radio. He hummed with the tune, horribly off-pitched I might add, and I made a face. I would have laughed at myself if it wasn't for Ren making a soul mission strict expression, which of course, was the perfect picture with some shirtless guy on a poster behind him making a exquisitely vulgar hand gesture. Yep, I am so mature for my age.

Ren turned and nodded to me. Since I apparently was the only one manly enough to get their hands dirty, I slowly inched up behind the guy and put my hands threateningly around his neck. Camera ready, I whispered in his ear,"Pull the car over and slowly get out with your hands up."

Okay, this did so did not go into play. What happened next was so hilarious that it was a knee-slapper-worthy. Instead of being a good little boy and listening, a girly scream erupted from his lips and the van veered sideways, wheels screeching and all. A horn blared, and the van zig-zagged across the road. I screamed a little too when the van went in front of a eighteen wheeler, my fingers moving to clutch at his shoulders as everything inside was slammed to the side. Chaos exploded, filled with unrepeatable phrases and panicked rabbit-in-the-jaws-of-the-wolf eyes. For one frantic second the driver met my eyes, surprisingly warm hazel to my bright greens, before he made a last second decision and crashed into the ditch to choke to a stop.

The whole van took a shuddering breath. The van winded and shut down, and we all seemed to collect ourself. Then, out of all things, I laughed. Not a little giggle and a slap to the wrist, but a full out tear-jerking cackle that hyenas would back down from. This guy probably thought we were insane. I definitely would believe it.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Another round threatened to come out of my throat, but I smothered it with a pillow. Come on Sammy, think serious thoughts. Oh great, now I'm really going to let it out. Just calm down. Okay, what do those therapists say? Oh yeah. Count to ten; one, two, three...

I got under control. The driver stared at us through the mirror, taking in our third class citizen clothing, our matted hair, and the dark smudges covering our body. Maybe he thought we were rabid. That would be interesting. I pointed to the driver's door, and then waved for someone behind me to escort him out. I heard the back door open and saw Ash's head pop through the window. He opened the door and hassled the guy out.

I jumped out and rounded to the driver's side. Ash had him on the ground with his hands behind his head. I was about to slide into the van again when I stood and crouched in front of him. His boyish curls fell into his face when he looked up at me. For an instant something flashed through my chest, then it was gone, leaving nothing but a fading trail of what it was.

I spoke. "What's your name, kid?"

He stared at me like a had a booger on my face or something. Probably did. "W-Will." He stuttered.

"Well Will, we appreciate your cooperation. I'd hate to do something rash, but you do what you gotta do to survive, right? Let me see your wallet."

Stumbling, he fished it out of is back pocket. I snatched it , careful of the fingertips, and examined its contents. Five twenties, a license, and a gift card to Willy's Fish Shack. A tossed the license on the ground and motioned for Ash to get in the passenger's side. With one last look, I said, "You don't know how well we appreciate this." And got in the car and drove off.

I don't know what the big deal of driving is. After a few test runs, and a lot of What's-that-do's, I had it going pretty good. I drove into a fast food joint and we ordered enough to feed a superhero, and ate until someone had to barf. No way can fast food be unhealthy if it tastes that good.

Dusk crept up and I found a run-down motel. I drove into the back and parked, then collapsed into the back seat. We had found a map in the little compartment where Ash had ridden, with a list of motels. Wasn't much use, but after driving around enough we eventually found one listed. I had never wanted to pass out somewhere with a greater desire before. Escaping a top notch government facility would do that to you.

Ren examined the motel. "It would have a laundry room somewhere. We can get clothes there so we wouldn't have to spend the last of our money on it."

I groaned and rolled over to look at him. What is with this kid and breaks? Did they have some big divorce and it got their kids Comfort and Laziness? Jeez.

He was already out the back doors. Olive filed in after him, and then Skip. Ash looked back at me, his opaque blue eyes flickering for a moment, and then silently held out a hand. That's the thing between me and Ash; we were always guarding each others back no matter how roughed up we got. We were the only ones with a reliable enough gift to do it. I took it and let him help me out of the back before following the others trail.

The laundry room was set up like it was a last minute suggestion. Washers and dryers lined haphazardly along the wall with coin slots sticking out like greedy beggars. Luckily, a good bit of the dryers were filled with clothes. Ash turned and locked the door behind us as we began to sort through them.

I dug through one that looked promising. Whoever it was seemed to have around my body type, and I so did not want to think what she might be doing in a motel like this. I pulled jeans, some v-necks and tank-tops, and something black fell out with a metallic clink. I picked it up, shook it loose of fuzz. It was a sleek leather jacket, with gold zippers and one of those cool neck button things. I felt the inside, and was surprised to find warm fake black fur that could hug you like a bear. I folded it carefully up in my little stack of clothing and turned around-

-To find Ren and Skip both stripping their pants down.

"Whoa! Whoa! Oh, no. That is not happening. Put your pants back on!" I shouted, waving my hands around for empathy. I almost felt bad when I saw the horror flash across Skip's face. Serves them right; we weren't exactly that close. Ren was mildly embarrassed, not even letting surprise flicker in his brown eyes. Sometimes that factor could be just irritating.

Olive was next to me with a similar pile in her hands, her shadowed face mirroring Skip's. It looked like she had turned around at the same time I had.

"Come on, Olive. We'll change in the van." Okay, so it was unfair to sound so snobbish. Oh, well. I know I'll make it up later. That was just the kind of person I was.

Once we were out, Olive said, "So glad I still haven't seen any more than a bare chest out of those three."

I snorted, one of the few things that Olive and I could agree on. It helped that there was another girl to hang around even if we weren't exactly cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die for each other. If it was just me to deal with all that hormone smog I would have let the guards take me away sooner.

We walked down the hallways, retracing our steps to avoid the dull eyes of the front desk. I was just about to consider trying for conversation, since the air had gone uncomfortable a while ago, when we turned a corner and I smacked forehead-agianst-forehead to someone heading the opposite way.

He toppled over me with a big oof. We fell rather ungracefully on the cheap patterned floor, a surprise little squeak popping out of my lips like a spooked rabbit. My arms instinctively covered my face, and his nose bumped my wrist.

"Jesus Christ-" He swore. For some reason, the voice sent a bell of familiarity through my head. When I finally peeled away my elbows, I figured out why.

Warm and extremely surprised hazel eyes met mine. There was a second of shock, and then swearing a few colors myself, I shoved him off and sprang to my feet. He stumbled to his, his eyebrows pulling together in acusasion.

"You-you stole my car!" He shouted, and I half winced at the volume. Quickly, I snatched up the fallen clothes and backed up next to Olive. Her jaw was slack, and I saw the shifting color of yellow behind her ink thick glasses. Trying to be as discrete as I could, I nudged her. She nudged back.

He took a step forward. "Where's my car? And my money?"

I really, really hoped the guys were already back at the van. That would make everything so, so much easier.