Mason Baker's Story

Running. Running is good. Just keep running.... The same mantra replayed in Cole's head as his feet pounded against the damp forest floor. His legs ached in protest from his frantic running, and he began to feel lightheaded. He shot a gaze behind him, taking in full view his fellow Runaways. Surprisingly, none of them-not even the youngest-seemed to tire. His eyes also wandered to a far off break in the trees, where a barely seeable glimpse of the Facility came through. Slowly, it began to get smaller as they made distance between it and them.

Freedom.... It felt weird to think of the word, like he would jinx himself by imagining the possibility of it. He sighed mid-run, knowing the unimaginable road that still lay ahead of them. The Facility would undoubtably send someone after them, if they hadn't already.

He chuckled a bit at the logic of this. Sending someone would be a miracle. But he knew they would send multiple, most likely the most elite; the trackers. Cole'd seen them only a few times before, but mainly heard about them from rumors from other children in the facility.

'I heard that one of the Trackers shot one of our own clear through the head,' and 'Their ruthless; you'd best stay out of their path.' were things he'd heard before from the other Supernaturals. But that seemed a far cry from the truth. Shot? A child? It seemed so barbaric and coldhearted.

He returned his attention to the oncoming forest. Flashes of green and brown flew past as he ran, creating a wild blur around him. It almost made him wish he could slow down and enjoy it for a second. Too bad we're being hunted by psychos, he thought wistfully.

Eventually, the soreness forced him to stop. The others did the same. He turned to face them, and asked, "What next?" He thought they were well enough out of range of their hunters, or at least long enough to catch his breath and make a game plan.