Running Foreword

The human race enslaved. Earth's surface is uninhabitable. Hope is a distant dream. Of the thirteen billion humans living below the surface, is there anyone willing to stand up for their freedom?

“Um… hi. I guess I should probably start with my name… and the date too. Well, my name is Roy and it is 81-34.5 in the year 2525, I think. If you are watching this, that means I am most likely dead and you must carry on my work. This is of the utmost importance, but it comes at a price. If you have children, stop now. If you’re married, have brothers or sisters, cousins, a pet, a family of any kind, you need to walk away and leave this for someone else. They will destroy all you hold dear if you are caught and they will catch you, they always do… Take it from someone who knows all too well.

“There are other requirements, naturally. You have to be able to run… fast. You can’t let your guard down ever. Not even for a second, because if you do, well… you probably have an idea. You need to be able to fire a gun and no, I’m not kidding. Lasers are pretty much useless against them, since all of them are registered and can be rendered useless with a mere thought. Yeah, I found that one out the hard way. You could probably find some handguns on the black market. I’m pretty sure they still sell them there.

“You must realize, however, that once you agree to this, there is no turning back. I know I probably sound really over dramatic, but I mean it. Once your in, that’s it. You can’t decide to suddenly bow out and return to a happy, quiet life. Have a few kids, get re-located to a lower level... Has life ever worked like that? It was probably at the same time we all lived on the surface and free and living a real life and… huh, lets face it, the world isn’t that kind. You screw this up and that’s it. Kaput. No more you. Or… you are you know you, anyway.”

“Possibly the most important thing you must have is a deep desire to express yourself. To be truly free. You can’t let yourself forget it! I never have, even after I lost… a lot. The DNT want nothing more then human drones, slaves, one just like the next. No individuality and, most of all, no willpower. We can not, we will not, continue to let them enslave up like they have for the past three hundred years! We are the human race! We have to stand up and fight for our own place in the galaxy, and not just as free labor for the DNT! They might be extremely powerful and hold technology beyond out imagination, but we outnumber them ten-to-one. We can do it, I know we can! All you have to do is spread the message. Rekindle the hope for our race. Get people to band together! To fight!

“They will never give you a moment’s rest. You will always be running, but keep running. I never saw it was running away, but running forward. Forward to a better future. Well… good luck.”

Roy reached forward and pushed a button on the holo-message, stopping the recording. With a heavy sigh he leaned back in the rickety old chair, his gray eyes studying the candle stump the supported the feeble little flame that lit the tiny room. He needed more candles. Sooner rather then later. The shadows weren't safe, not anymore. Not when hungry jackals prowled the underground streets.

This tiny, closet sized, room had been Roy’s home for the past two weeks, the longest he had stayed in one place for years. It was a cold, airy, abandoned housing facility with a confusing labyrinth of empty cell-like homes where, families had once lived. It was a perfect hiding place. The room he was currently occupying had probably, at one point, been the home to a small, three-to-four person family. It was the only room he could find that didn’t seem to have been disturbed since the previous owners up and left. At least the bed and walls weren't ripped to shreds.

Suddenly, the cry of mad dogs reached Roy’s keen ears and he sprang up, nearly nocking his chair over in the process. The terrifying sound echoed strangely though the empty building, the deranged cries making the hair on the back of his wrist stand strait up. They were sill a fair ways off, but they had his sent, which was what mede them cry out so. Once a jackal had it’s prey’s sent, it was only a matter of time before they found it.

Roy scrambled to get his things, shoving them into his backpack as fast as he could without creating too much of a commotion. He hesitated before shoving the holo-message in with everything else. If he left it here, the jackals would just tear it to shreds. The sounds were steadily growing louder and human instinct told him to snuff out the delicate little flame, plunging him into the protection of darkness, but that would mean death. The jackals were so extremely photosensitive that even the little candle that Roy held would cause them to scream in pain. False, electric light had no effect on them, however.

With one last longing glance around the small room, he left, walking briskly though the long hall toward the exit. He tried hard to concentrate on the path before him and not at the walls on either side. Deep gashes in the metal walls were scattered about haphazardly, made by huge creatures with sharp, tough claws. Roy gulped. That was what was chasing him now.

He quickened his pace, his curly auburn brown hair bouncing at every step, but he was careful not to let the candle blow out. Soon he reached a large titanium door and, with a glimpse down the way he had come, he blew out the candle and stuffed it in his pocket. The jackal’s calls were echoing loudly though the building by this point while Roy grasped his hands on the door and pulled at it with all his strength. Slowly it slid back, flooding the previously black corridor with colorless industrial lights.

Outside was a crowded street, huge amounts of pale-faced people making their way from place to place, but it was deathly silent. No one dared make a sound. It was early sill, the morning switch. Maybe there was still hope that Roy didn’t have to face the creatures. He slipped though the crack he had managed to make in the door and heaved it closed again before joining the eerie throng of people. He moved away from the complex as fast as he could without arousing suspicion from the people around him.

Twenty minuets ticked by, but nothing happened. Maybe he had lost them. He relaxed a bit and slowed his pace, allowing his mind to explore the situation. He couldn’t quite understand what this game was. If the DNT wanted him dead, he would be, end of the story. Yet, he wasn’t, he had managed to sidestep every attempt at his life so far. Were they playing with him? Maybe they just didn’t see him as much of a threat. Or maybe they were finally sick of him and were ready to finish the job.

A bloodcurdling scream broke the carefully organized silence. People began to panic as more screams bounced off the solid wall of housing complexes and factories lining the street. With out even looking back to confirm, Roy took off running. The jackals were back. He couldn’t see them, but he could smell them. The stench or rotting meet mixed with sulfur was the last thing many smelled. Roy put all his effort into the steady rhythm of his legs flying across the concrete, shedding the backpack so he could run even faster.

Suddenly, there was a tan blur in front of him and his feet refused to move forward. He fell forward on his face and, ignoring the pain, he quickly rolled over on his back to face his attacker. A terrifying creature towered over him. A drop of thick, yellowish syrup fell from one of it’s huge razor sharp fangs that protruded from it’s dog-like snout and onto Roy’s uniform gray jacket. It stood on two legs, it’s back hunched foreword and thin, yellowish skin stretched over the bone like latex. Coerce hairs were scattered across it’s skin, but the skin was clearly visible. The sight of the creature was enough to scar anyone for life, if you were still alive once it was done with you.

The jackal raised it’s arm to strike Roy, but he rolled quickly back out of the way. It’s thick, black claws struck the hard cement. It yelped in pain and during the precious moments while it was preoccupied, Roy jumped up, only to be knocked back down again by a searing pain in his side.

Two more jackals had arrived at the scene, the ones that were after him before. It didn’t make sense! The jackals were as dumb as dirt, their mental capability was that of an oyster, a petrifying, carnivorous oyster. They didn’t have the brain power to pull of an ambush, yet there they were, and here he was.

The fist jackal rushed at him and Roy somehow managed to kick it in the shin, causing it to yelp in pain again. He jumped up again and, learning from experience, dodged the swipe made at him, staying on his feet. Ignoring the pain from the cuts on this side, he aimed a few precise kicks and ran for it, knowing that was his only hope, however slim it was, since the jackals could easily outrun him.

Roy cried out as the full body weight of a jackal fell on him, knocking him back to the ground. There was a loud crack a split-second before a blinding pain vibrated up his leg. Stars danced in his eyes as he ground his teeth in agony. Roy gave a mighty shove to get the heavy creature off him and his leg, but not before it dragged one of it’s thick fangs across his belly, cutting right though his worn shirt and perching the skin painfully.

The lights above him started to blur and the world started spinning. It was amazing how fast the jackals poison coursed though the body, especially with the heart beating fast and hard in fear.  He vaguely saw two jackal heads hovering over top of him, tongues hanging out as they surveyed their catch. Suddenly, as if from vary far away, there was a bang. One of the heads vanished and the other began to run, yelping as it went. His finger’s felt something wet, and roy struggled to turn his head, but found he couldn’t. Someone was talking, but the sounds were getting further and further away, as if he were falling down a deep pit. There was a face, a human face, looking down at him with concern. A warm chill rushed over him and everything faded into darkness.

Author's Note

An original short story that first came to my mind during an english assignment in Freshmen year. I realize there are several spelling errors, but I would like some critiquing on grammar such as punctuation, etc. and of course I would appreciate your opinions on the story itself.

Reviews

[dreaming dame]

Oh man! Are you going to write more? I could see this all happening so clearly it was like I heard the jackals. :)