Born of Kytec, Kennedy Harkins [cheapest way to read ebooks .txt] 📗

whole area was supposed to be overflowing with Enforcers, any of them could be listening to our conversation, waiting for the perfect moment to pop out and arrest us for trespassing. Sure, the charges would be dropped immediately due to Cedric’s involvement, but that would be it for our dreams of reaching the crust.
You’re probably wondering what’s the big deal about being top-side, and to this day I’m not completely sure why it was so important to us. It consumed our every thought. I think it was about escaping...eluding captivity. The very idea of a place where we could be ourselves, where we could be together, without the judgment and misunderstandings, was more than we could hope for. The crust was a symbol of freedom, to an extent.
Our plan was riddled through with flaws; getting past security, surviving the harsh environmental changes, and above all else, the monsters that inhabited the ruins of our old civilization. But we didn’t like to think about that, it was all too sketchy. First of all, no one had seen an Infected in over a thousand years. Who was to say they weren’t extinct? And if they weren’t, it wasn’t like we didn’t have a plan. Run like hell usually does the trick.
Then there was the Enforcer army surrounding us, we only knew what the government chose to tell us, and no one was allowed in this part of the woods. For all we knew, there were no Enforcers and Area Six was sealed off by threat alone.
Yes, Area Six, you heard correctly. I have no idea if that’s the government’s name for the two mile radius around The Shoot or if civilians came up with it. And, yes, I know that the number six is suppose to invoke the devil. I’m not without sin, so I figure Lucifer and I will get along famously.
If you have a normal functioning brain you’re thinking; Excuse me? Back up a minute... ‘The Shoot’? Or something along those lines. Well, you’re out of luck, because it’s not a socially acceptable conversation topic. . .
Just kidding, can you imagine if I was like that? The Shoot is basically an elevator on steroids. The ‘elevator’ reaches speeds of 2,000 miles per hour, which means it would take under two minutes to get from the launch pad to the surface. Two whole minutes of chewing our nails and being jolted around at high speeds. Good times. . .  
But, I’m getting ahead of myself, first I have to get past the bouncers. Something tells me they’re not going to just buckle us in and wish the crazy kids a merry trip. . .not of their own free will anyway.
Cedric motioned for us to stop and we knelt down around each other in a triangle formation. Koen and Cedric took turns eying me, probably wondering if I was going to chicken-out on them. If I’m being reasonable, there’s no point in resenting their feelings towards me. It’s just the way things were; women took a secondary role and men had the lead part. They were raised to believe in those values. . .But who am I kidding? I’ve never been reasonable.
“We’re too noisy as a whole. Someone needs to scout ahead, while the other two wait here.” Cedric whispered in a confident tone that left no doubt on who he thought should go and stay. Self-absorbed soldiers...
“Good idea-” Koen nodded his head.
“I’ll go.” Cedric and I stated simultaneously. His head snapped towards me, and our eyes met in an unspoken challenge.
“There is no way you’re going out there alone, so just forget about it, Gianna. Besides, it was my idea.” He growled at me.
“Oh, grow up. I’m lighter and shorter than both of you. I can sneak around. Therefor, I’m the logical decision.”
His mouth turned up in an annoying smirk, “Maybe, that would be the case if you actually walk the length of your room without tripping over yourself. I’ve been specially trained for Recon missions and-”
“Oh, here we go! I am so sick of your ‘warrior prince’ crap. Just because I have ovaries doesn’t mean I can’t tip-toe around places and hit people with a stick.”  
“It is not a stick. It’s called a Brashnel. It’s triple edged long sword used for one-on-one combat.” Cedric breathed heatedly.
“Yeah, it’s a stick.”
“SHUT UP!” Koen rumbled, “If neither of you can be mature about this. . . I’ll go.” I locked gazes with his beautiful golden orbs, I was nowhere near ready to give up this battle. If a girl wanted something, she had to go get it. No one was going to hand me shit, and that was just fine with me. Freedom was worth it, even if it meant fighting with my prideful, strong-willed best friend.
I was prepared to get physical if need be. As it turned out that wasn’t necessary, because not for the first, nor the last time in my life, I found my choice being taken right from under me.     
Cedric nodded slowly and reluctantly, “Alright. . . I’ll wait here with Gia.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, had they forgotten I was even there? I looked back and forth between the two, both wore similar expressions of determination and stubborn dignity. My opinion meant nothing.
I wasn’t going to win, the realization hit me hard, like a ton of bricks. You’d think I’d be use to men ruling my life, but it still sucks to this day.
Turning away from them, I made my way over to a large ‘tree’ and sunk into a sitting position. Who said pouting was a waste of time? I decided to use silence as a guilt inflicting weapon, while I planned my revenge. Push them in the mud? No, too small. ‘Accidentally’ trip near a cliff? Maybe, a tad over kill. . . Emphasis on the ‘kill’. Squish, crunch, snap.
Of course, I’d want to wait to act until we reached our destination, wouldn’t want an injury to screw up our chances. Plus, if I waited, I’d have the element of surprise. I continued to submerge myself in my plans of retribution, so thoroughly in fact, that when I came out of it Koen was already gone. . . And so was Cedric.

“Dad?” My voice echoed through the empty halls, “Is anyone home?” The silence was deafening. My house had never been quiet. Leina, my spastic younger sister, was always around to cause trouble and infinite noise. She’d gone away to a camp that summer. She was so excited that she’d finally turned eight, and that Dad had agreed to her spending a whole two months away from home. Having turned eight over four years before, and already having had my ‘big camp adventure’, I didn’t see the attraction.  
I walked slowly down the corridor, unable to shake my feelings of unease. Something was wrong. The usually bright, vibrant paintings seemed dull, sinister. The faces of my ancestors stared down at me with mixed expressions of shame and disregard. Every Jacob for the past two hundred years had their face in this hall. Well, almost every Jacob . . . .
“. . . Jenifer? Are you there?” She’d never requested that I call her Mom, quite the opposite, in fact. She made it clear she couldn’t stand me. Not in front of my father, of course, never in front of father. I didn’t blame him then, for remarrying someone who did not and would not love me. I’d never known a mother’s love, and you can’t miss what you never had.
I wondered constantly what things would be like if my mother were still alive. True, Leina, being only my half sister, would have never been born. That fact right there was enough to stop most of my day dreams, but still, occasionally I thought of what it would have been like to meet her. . . to see her face with my own eyes.
A crash sounded from directly above me, I stared at the ceiling in morbid fascination. A woman screamed, only to be cut off suddenly, and followed by a muffled gagging.
Another woman, her voice held much more cruelty than the first, laughed venomously, “Are you up for round two, sweetheart? He loves it when you scream. . .”

I started running, running from the memories, from the nightmares. . . from him. My erratic mind threatened to push me back over the edge of sanity, right into his clutches. I couldn’t go back there. I wouldn’t survive it a second time. I’d shatter into a million fragments, and even if they tried to put the shards back together, they’d never find all of me.
My breaths came out in shallow pants, I didn’t know how far I’d gone. It seemed like only minutes. . . the longest minutes of my young life.
The next few minutes passed in a blur. I remember the feeling of dread as my foot caught on a thick root protruding from the ground. I tried to twist mid-air, to no avail. I went down. Hard. My forehead smashed into the tightly compacted soil.
I gasped at the searing pain in my right ankle, the one that had gotten caught. That was definitely going to hurt in the morning, and the morning after that, and the morning after that. . . .
Turning over slowly, so as not to further aggravate the sprain/possible break, I settled into a sitting position. This is just perfect, I thought. I’m alone in the middle of a heavily wooded area that I’m not familiar with. I have no supplies, and my knights in shinning armor are either missing, or off ambushing an army. . .without backup. No one can ever say my life is without excitement.
Turning my head ever so slightly, movement caught my attention. A silhouette outlined in the aesthetic moonlight.  A massive, petrifying contour. . . creeping ever closer.
I struggled frantically to my feet, my entire being vibrating in fear. Would he never truly leave me? Was I doomed to feel his presence for the rest of my inconsequential existence? I was cold, so very cold. Everything seemed to be happening at supernatural speeds, I couldn’t keep up. I didn’t try to.
The pain in my ankle flared out, it was worse than I could of imagined, it couldn’t hold my weight. I staggered for a moment before crashing to my knees. The agony enveloped me, carving a path of destruction in my mind and heart.
The figure was upon me, so close I couldn’t touch him, if I dared. I opened my mouth to scream, a desperate attempt at self preservation. My instincts didn’t care that both Koen and Cedric were too far away to save me at this point, even if they heard my shrieks.
The man’s hand clasped around my mouth, before I could so much as squeak, cutting off my last chance of survival. I couldn’t run. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him, even at full strength.
My arms flailed out, trying against hope to disable my attacker. I started to panic, I lost the ability to breathe. My body spasmed in response, my vision began to blur. His hand was warm, calloused, and well used. Part of me realized that the ghost of my past had had clammy hands, always moving, always touching. These weren’t the same hands. It was the same part of my mind that recognized that he had only covered my mouth, not my nose. This part was quickly buried under mountains of hurt and pain.
I started to go limp in his arms. I wanted to