The 17 Read Free Page B

plucked out of one of a billion teen movies and plopped into this situation. None of them were special; quite the contrary.
    There was something wrong with each of them. They were all flawed. They all had a zit they couldn’t pop, a boil they couldn’t lance, a blemish they couldn’t hide.
    What could their captors possibly want or need with them?
     

Part I
    Chapter Two
    The Struggle is Real
    Zack gripped a katana tightly his hands. He had no idea how it had gotten there.
    Light, wispy snowflakes fell and footprints led away from his position under a large pine tree. It was cold, but not frigidly so. And there was nary a breeze, the large flakes floated straight down to the ground.
    “C’mon, noob,” Harness poked out from behind a tree ahead of Zack and waved his arm. “We got some killing to do.”
    The katana trembled in Zack’s hands. He had seen samurai movies before and often wondered what it would be like to wield such a sword. But now it was all too real.
    Zack sprinted ahead and caught up with the others. Everyone was there except Mizuki.
    “Of course the Jap chick would not be here with us when we have these slanty-eyed swords,” Harness spoke with ignorance.
    Jenai shook and cowered against a tree. “Jesus. I hope I don’t die again.”
    “You probably will,” Cass said. “I don’t like the looks of the bloody… things we’re gonna fight.”
    Zack looked ahead through the trees and over a clearing. He could make out six figures near another crop of trees in the distance, milling about and no doubt planning their attack.
    “Is this it?” Zack asked. He tried to calm his voice, but that was utterly unsuccessful. “Is this the hunt?”
    “Man, noobs,” Harness said, shaking his head.
    “Yup,” Zill said, patting Zack on the back. “This is it.”
    They were all wearing black leather armor and metal helmets. Zack was surprised by how heavy it all felt on his gangly frame.
    “What’s the plan?” Zack asked.
    “The plan?” Harness answered in a chiding tone. “We kill ‘em. That’s the plan. I’m not going back to that crappy cell again for days and days. There are no freakin’ toilets in there. I have to piss like an animal in the corner.”
    Harness slashed the air with his sword and began to run, screaming as he did. The others followed like well-trained drones, screaming as they punched the snow down behind Harness. The figures in the distance, startled, pulled their swords and rushed toward them, meeting in a mass in the middle of the snowy field. Zack watched as they fell, one by one, to the frozen ground, sprays of blood coloring the snow red. He couldn’t tell if his side was winning or not.
    He heard the crunching of snow behind him. He turned to see a figure dressed in black with a helmet obscuring the face, sword drawn and pointed at him. The figure must have been eight feet tall with long arms, disproportionate to the body.
    Then he heard a sound that could have been words, but sounding like none he knew.
    “I don’t want to fight,” Zack said as he dropped the sword. It sunk into the freshly fallen snow. “Maybe if we don’t fight, they will let us go.”
    The figure paused and lowered his sword for a moment. He heard more sounds that could have been words escape from behind the helmet.
    “Can you understand me?” Zack asked.
    It wasn’t long after he finished his query that the tip of the figure’s sword punctured his stomach. Zack didn’t even feel it slide into his gut, but he watched the blood spill out of him like water through a hole in a garden hose. It ran out of the wound and pooled on top of the snow, forming what looked like a red apple.
    Zack slumped to his knees, and then fell onto his side, the figure standing over him, trembling. His vision was starting to fade when he heard the deep, bellowing voice of Harness before a sword slammed through the torso of the shaking figure before him. The figure fell to the snow right in front of Zack.
    Zack