We ran and we walked, we flew and we glided, barely sleeping, rarely ever eating. We had no food, no home, and no time to rest. When things were bad, I'd go with my gun, and hunter for whatever I could, and we'd sleep in trees, nearly freezing to death in the cold winter nights. All the while, I would stay as far from the others as possible, eating away from the others, sleeping at least 50 feet away, and saying usually less then 10 words everyday.
It sucked, no question. But we made decent progress. A month after we started running, we were in Minnisota, about to head into Canada. And then everything got much, much worse. Erasers ambushed us in a forest. Nearly three dozen Erasers came pouring in around us as we were eating. We fought until all the Erasers were dead, but we still lost several people. No one I'd known before hand died (At least, that's what I thought), but it was still sad, watching everyone crying, clutching the bodies of their friends.
Friends. I don't think I've ever had any actual friends. Unless you counted Shadow, before the breakout. Anyway, no one came out of the ambush unscathed. I had broken a wing trying to fly away through the dense foliage of the forest we'd been in, and then I broken my arm. Just below my elbow, an Eraser swung at me so hard that when I blocked his punch, it still fractured my arm.
The scene was gruesome, dead Erasers scattered around, snow that was red from blood, people bloodied and crying, and me, covered in blood from the Erasers I fought, leaning against a tree watching. All I wanted to do was get out of there, find some safe place and rest until I was all healed, and then I'd be able to watch this . . . Flock, and take care of them. I wanted to make something of myself, make some friends. Maybe even get a full eight hours of sleep someday.
"We need to go! Everyone get anything useful and then we're leaving!" Shadow yelled, her voice coarse, her eyes glazed over, staring at a body a few feet away from her. I followed her gaze, and what I saw made me hate the School more then ever before, and I vowed to kill every Eraser I could. It was Cobalt's body on the ground, his stomach torn to shreds.
I brought my hand to my face, and gasped. And then I pushed off the tree I'd been leaning against, and started walking. I didn't know where I was going, but I was sure I see Erasers eventually. And when I did, I was gonna kill them. I heard some shouts, probably from Shadow, and then I heard footsteps behind me. The others were following me.
Hey, the more the merrier. And the easier it is to brutally murder all Erasers we saw. Cruel, but the Erasers deserved it, even if it wasn't their choice to become Erasers. They still didn't have to listen to whatever the whitecoats told them to do.