They woke with a jolt, breath heavy as they were torn from sleep. Without thinking their hand went to the gun stuffed beneath their pillow. It hadn’t been a nightmare that woke them this time, but a noise outside the mobile home. Shoving socked feet into mud cake Timberlands, Breaker got up and stalked through the mobile home, gun at chest height. They were careful not to make a sound or any sudden movement as they approached a small window near the front door, eyes trained on the outside. The noise came again, louder this time; a rustle of leaves and brush. Breaker slowly started to squeeze the trigger as the bushes beyond the makeshift yard shook. They gasped as a large deer leaped into the yard, its large, wet eyes scanning the clearing. It shook its head then began to graze. Breaker sighed and put the gun down, watching the deer through the window, trying to stop their body from shaking. The deer was beautiful; Breaker hadn’t seen one in a long time, and they wondered how this one had survived so long. “Survival of the fittest I guess-” they mumbled as they walked away from the window. They turned to the clock on the opposite wall, sighing as they realized they had only gotten a few, dreadful hours of sleep. No point in trying to sleep again, Breaker thought, and walked back to their bedroom to get ready for the day. 

The room was simple; a closet, bed, and a wall of pictures stuck to the wall with an assortment of different tapes. Breaker glanced at the photos before they turned to the closet for fresh clothes. Many of the pictures held good memories that had turned bitter. They shook their head as they walked towards the bathroom, punching the light switch as the lights flickered for a moment. 

Breaker hated their reflection, showed the ugly side of them in so many ways. It was made worse today with their torso unclothed exposing the bandages that wrapped over the entire top half of their body. They opened the plastic set of drawers next to the sink, looking down at the clean wrappings, pads, ointments, silicon covers and fillers, and all the other materials used to cover and treat the hole. They slammed the drawers shut, the wrappings still looked fairly clean; they weren’t sopping with blood, and nothing smelled- They breathed, gripping the sink, knuckles going white. Every day of their lives they questioned why they had been born like this. Something not fully alive, but also not dead. Something that’s flesh would rot away, exposing the bones beneath. They stared at themselves. “What kind of monster are you?” they questioned. The reflection in the mirror gave no response. They sighed, putting on the rest of their clothing, punching out the light and slamming the bathroom door. Breaker glared at the door opposite of the bathroom door. They stared at the door, waiting for… well they didn’t really know what. They shook their head and walked away; today would be full of disappointments.

This statement was proven right when Breaker learned that they had no coffee, being forced to eat plain toast with juice instead. Once all dishes were cleaned and put away, Breaker texted the group about the day's activities. Their friends' messages brought a smile to their face as they packed a backpack for the necessary items for their hunt; bullets, gun, walkie-talkie, a jacket, and a few other miscellaneous items. They walked to the door grabbing the last of their things. One of these items was a large bat, covered in nails, barbed wire, and acid filled tubes. One blow with that thing and someone’s life would be over. Breaker studied the weapon for a second, still covered with hair, blood, and chunks of flesh from the night before. They laughed, grabbed their keys, and took their ROTTER captain’s hat from the coat hanger beside the door, placed it on their head, and went out. 

By this time the deer had run off to find some other patch of grass, but Breaker still stopped to admire the beauty of the forest they lived in. It was starting to feel like summer, the days hot, sunny, and long. They surveyed the area as they walked to their beat up truck, parked under a makeshift garage at the side of the camper. They tossed the pack in the passenger's seat as they got in their red truck that sat in the makeshift garage. They tapped on the steering wheel as they put in the keys, “Get me through the day baby, I’m counting on you.” They mumbled, sitting back with relief as the old truck turned on. They drove out, across the makeshift driveway and down the dirt road. It would usually take forever to get to the main road if they drove straight, but they took some short cut they had made themselves that cut across. They were quiet as they drove, speeding up as they passed the marked tree, signaling that the road was only a mile ahead. They then went quickly not wanting to be seen by anyone, or anything for that matter. They breathed a sigh of relief as they shot out onto the paved road, not a truck in sight to notice their existence. They turned right, up towards the twins house, to discuss today's plans. They calmed down as fresh mountain air filtered through the windows, lightening their mood and airing out the smell of violent, rotting, death.

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

The Chemical War; that’s what had gotten everyone in this mess. The 48 contiguous American states had started to turn on each other. Political and social agreements couldn’t be met and so everyone turned to the one solution they all knew best; war. Each state had its own forces and depending on its strength, it either grew or shrunk in size. 

It was called the Chemical War because that had been the main “weapon” used; chemicals. Chemicals were used to destroy land, air, water and earth. Certain chemicals could wipe out large cities in only an hour, leaving no room for escape. These chemicals were also used in humans, mutated into a drug called CHEMS, to control and fabricate soldiers that could not be easily destroyed, soldiers that would later be known as Super Soldiers, only made by sections with smart enough technology and researchers along with an abundant supply of CHEMS. Between the Super Soldiers and the chemicals used, America had been laid to waste, some sections becoming toxic and radioactive. Not only had the land been affected, but the people as well. For those who weren’t killed by the chemicals or forced into the military as soldiers or “lab rats”, the rest were left to their own defenses, later to be known as the “strays”. They made small, highly guarded towns that were enclosed by high walls, trying to mirror a life as normal to the one before the war. Many strays were terrified of being found by the military, so technology was limited. Many years later they would discover that the military sections couldn’t hack or track technology that was produced before the 2010’s. Many had older phones and tvs, and those who were lucky may be able to get their hands on military technology that could be altered so that the military could not track the devices.

2051 was the “end” of the war, “America” was now split into sections, 60 of them, thus becoming, The Sixty Autonomous Regions which would later become known just as the “Sixty Sections”. However the Chemical War hadn’t actually come to an end, many still fought against each other, so the war never actually ended.

The real problem started three years later, when many noticed that the dead were missing from their graves. Many believed that the chemicals in the ground made the bodies decompose quickly, but no one ever imagined that the chemicals would bring the dead back to life. 

It was impossible to get rid of what many called “ROTTERS”. They were much larger than normal humans, stronger and faster too. The problem became an even bigger issue when the ROTTERS began to form into clusters, then groups, then mobs, being able to easily wipe out Stray Towns and military bases. The only way it seemed to be able to kill these things was to destroy the brain. However, most sections didn’t want to sacrifice soldiers to kill the seemingly unkillable. That’s when a new branch was formed in the Sixty Sections Government; ROTTER. Criminals being locked up for life or given the death penalty now had the choice to become rotter hunters; people who lived in the wilderness and hunted ROTTERS for a living. At first only violent criminals were allowed to become rotter hunters, but soon that option for a job was opened to the public. This new branch of government set rules concerning ROTTERS and how they were to be hunted, supplying weapons and ammunition, housing in the way of large, house sized trailers, and a “territory”. This became a new job for many; the risks were high but the money and freedom were worth it.

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

Breaker scanned the tree line, pulling into the twins' makeshift driveway of tiny pebbles poured over some grass, making a satisfying crunching noise as Breaker’s tires rolled over them. The air was thinner, up this high on the mountain, an eerie silence also seemed to encase the twins home as well, they were the only ones living this high up. Past their property fence was dark woods, covering the mountains ridge, sloping back down; there was no one for miles. Breaker pulled out their car keys, the engine coming to a stop. Getting out, the door seemed to close a little too loud in the silence. Following the gravel driveway, Breaker passed by the Twins trucks, an old 1970’s ford in a burning orange, and a large black Ram that seemed to have a new dent in it every time Breaker saw it. Breaker hopped up the small porch steps and bangged on the metal door. “Open up!” There was silence for a few moments.

“The doors unlocked, come on in.” the voice almost sounded annoyed. Breaker chuckled, turning the gold painted knob and entering the trailer. The sound of a TV buzzed in the background, announcing some new truck that was about to go on market. The mobile home smelled of oil, deodorant, and wet leather, not the best combination of smells, an underlying smell of decay as well. The sound of clinking tools attracted Breaker to the kitchen. Breaker found Crutch sitting at the kitchen table, his robotic arm in his lap. It was in a desperate need of repair, based on its rigid form. Crutch was the oldest twin, he liked to say, being born first. He sat, trying to fix his arm, to get it to move fluidly. Crutch didn’t look up as his captain entered, more focused on his robotic body parts, not like Crutch showed much respect anyways- He had a piece of jelly toast in his mouth, the jelly slowly starting to slide off. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, Breaker noted- it was draped on a chair next to him, a thin undershirt was the only thing covering his chest. His hair was not brushed, like he had just gotten out of bed, and it was evident he hadn't showered either.

“What’s up with your arm?”

“Damn thing got stuck when I was making coffee.” Crutch hissed, massaging oil into the mechanical joints.

“Coffee?” Breaker was in desperate need of caffeine.

“Yea, there’s still some in the pot if ya want some.”

“Sweet”, Breaker grinned, grabbing a mug and pouring themselves some. Setting bag and bat down, they sat across from Crutch, pulling out their screen to view the latest news. As they started to read, it became very evident that someone else was in the room with them. Breaker looked up in time to see a flash of orange. They grinned as they took a sip of coffee, looking over to see a familiar figure. 

He stood a few feet away, quietly putting away dishes, not making a sound. The figure turned, sensing Breaker's grin, and gave back a lopsided grin of his own. This was Crutch’s twin; Ash. Unlike his brother, Ash liked to keep things neat and tidy, scowling at the oil that now covered Crutch’s hand and lap and threatened to drop on the table, chair, and floor. Sighing, he took the leaking oil can and tools off the table, putting them on a small plastic tray, giving it back to Crutch before he threw a temper tantrum. Ash disappeared for a moment, reappearing moments later with a brush. Standing behind his brother, Ash quietly combed out the bird's nest that his brother had sitting atop his head.

“Aaaaaaaash, I don’t have time for this! I gotta- OW! Why’d ya do that??” Ash’s scowling face was his response. “Point taken,” sighed Crutch, reaching for a screwdriver. After a few minutes Crutch’s hair was as good as it was going to get, set in place with a little hairspray. Breaker watched as Ash glided silently through the house, slowly cleaning the mess his brother always left in his wake. “AHA!” Crutch suddenly shouted, making Ash jump and hit his head on a lamp. “Sorry- but I figured out what broke my arm. This!” Crutch pulled out a hairpin, squeezed between his forefinger and thumb, before tossing it in a garbage can, missing by a mile. Ash sighed and went to throw it away properly.

“Where’d that come from-“

“Probably from that girl I was with the other day.”

“What girl???” Crutch didn’t respond. “So while we were out hunting, you were with some girl, having your parts stripped and broken?” Still no response, Crutch’s arm was suddenly very interesting. “Can you believe this?” Breaker said, swiveling around in their chair to face Ash, “We’re out here risking our lives and your brother is with some girl-“ Ash let out a noise, it sounded like a cat with a sore throat but it was actually a laugh. Breaker joined him, wrapping an arm around their stomach.

Meanwhile Crutch’s face was glowing as red as his eye. “Shut up, both of you.” His voice came out wobbly, making Ash and Breaker laugh harder. Crutch rolled his eyes and proceeded to put his robotic arm over the nub where his real arm had once been. 

The Rigg Brothers (Ash and Crutch)

No one really knew when the boys had been born, but when the boys had been found on the doorstep of an orphanage; it seemed as though they had been born a few days before, Crutch’s eyes barely starting to open (babies eyes didn’t open fully till a week after birth). Realizing that Crutch’s eyes were more open than Ash’s, whose eyes were still completely closed, the nurses figured that Crutch was the older twin. They took Crutch and Ash in, taking them to a doctor at the facility. The doctor concluded that they were about three days old, and that Crutch was definitely born first, based on his barely opened eyes. After examination, the twins were given names; Crutch was given the name Cristian, Ash was given the name Andres. 

Ash, or back then, Andres, was the silent baby, while Crutch found it necessary to make everyone’s ears bleed. At six days old both boys opened their eyes, but it was covered in a thick, white film, letting the boys slowly get used to light and chemicals in the air. All the nurses were interested to see the boy's eye color, because it could sometimes help determine the area in which a person was from. The next day, the nurses heard baby Crutch crying, soon followed by Ash. The nurses knew this cry; the boys were finally able to see. The nurses flocked towards the nursery where the twins were kept, eager to see their eye color. The nurses would be horrified however, picking up the twins and gazing in their eyes. The boy's eyes glowed blood red, seeming to gaze into the souls of the nurses holding them. A doctor was called, and it was made evident that the boys had been born with Phosphorus, a gene that makes the eyes glow, in this case, the boys eyes were in the peculiar shade of blood red. 

Phosphorus was a trait inherited from parents, but the color was determined from certain chemicals in the air. Certain cities and sections produced different types of air pollution, and this type of phosphorus was connected to a specific chemical produced in the city of Zon in Section forty-two.

From then on, the twins were always seen as different. They were highly disliked for their behavior, being loud and destructive unlike the other children. They had short attention spans, and it was impossible to make them listen or look at you. At the age of five, they both got assessments, for such “bad” behavior and other troubling signs the caretakers saw in them, and they were diagnosed with some sort of mental disorder, and were sent to the one place for “people like them”, CORRECTION. From there the boy’s behavior started to get worse. It wasn’t just behavior and not being able to pay attention, it was now turning into destruction that harmed themselves and others. They had been allowed to play with other kids in the CORRECTION program, but at the age of eight, after an incident that left Crutch blind in his right eye and Ash in his left, they were locked away in their own room. Crutch had gotten into a fight with another boy, mainly because the child had made fun of his brother's speech impairment, and Crutch had attacked, soon followed by Ash, who tried to stop him. The boy who had made fun of Ash, had damaged both of their eyes in the brawl, leaving them half blind. The boy however, was fully blind after the ordeal; Ash ripped his eyes out after he blinded his twin in the right eye.

From then on the boys were put in a separate area, separated from each other because the nurses thought they needed to develop their own personalities and have some time away from one another. This of course, only made things worse. They’d do anything to be with one another, again harming themselves and others with their increasing destructive behavior. They went for a few months like this till nurses and doctors concluded that them being separated was doing more harm than good. Back together the boys were peaceful for a while and most of the staff thought it’d be a good idea to reintroduce them to the other kids; they’d still have each other but also have the opportunity to make new friends. Once Ash broke the fingers of one little boy one by one and Crutch became violent to anyone that came within four feet of his brother, medical staff decided to keep them isolated from the other children once again. It went on like this for years; the boys being taken away and reintroduced to the other children. Once children reach a certain age in CORRECTION, they are either used as test subjects or thrown out into the street if no adult claims them or pays the medical expenses. Ash and Crutch however, were deemed too dangerous to be let out or used for experimentation, and were therefore left to rot in the hospital. After yet another incident, this time leaving a nurse dead, the boys were due for another evaluation. Instead of the previously vaguely diagnosed “Personality and Mental disorder”, the boys were ruled out to be psychopaths. When a child is given this diagnosis, CORRECTION goes to the extreme, treating children more as dangerous criminals than a person with a disorder. The boys were not allowed to talk with anyone, and were kept in a locked, padded room all day. At the age of eleven they were only allowed to see the sun once a month. They were treated like animals, kept in restraining masks and having their hands constantly cuffed. Without being able to talk with others, the boys acted out to make up for the attention that they seldom received. They would lash out: hit, kick, bite, and scratch anyone they came in contact with. They would destroy their padded cell and try to climb the thirty foot fence whenever they were let outside. The only comfort that the outside world had was that CORRECTION was located in the middle of a massive forest. A city was forty miles away, and surely they’d be caught before they made it back to civilization. A few times the boys managed to get out, but were always quickly shot down. At first they received harsh punishment of being struck, but it was soon found out that the boys didn’t react much to that type of pain. After trial and error they found that Ash’s only weakness was needles. Being poked and prodded with a needle drove him absolutely insane, and it drove his brother absolutely insane to watch and not be able to do anything to help him.

The issue started to arise when the boys turned fourteen. They were growing too big to be held in CORRECTION and the decision was being made to turn them either into a high-guarded prison or to the military. While these plans were being made, the boys were making plans of their own. They hated CORRECTION and everything that it stood for. They wanted to watch it burn to the ground. They wanted to save themselves, the kids like them, and the kids that were sure to follow. 

They knew that on levels below ground, there were old boiler rooms that they could possibly get out of.. They reasoned that if they could get down there fast enough and evade and get through all security, they could burn the building down to the ground and run away together and live a morbid happily-ever-after on the run. 

On the boy’s fifteenth birthday, they set off a fire alarm on their floor, running away from the scene as fast as possible. They had learned of the quickest and quietest ways to get down to the underground levels from watching and listening to staff. They assaulted an unsuspecting doctor, taking his identification card and using it to get easy passage through restricted areas. The boys had made sure that they had set the fire alarm in an area where most staff would be turned away from their planned route, and that the danger seemed large enough for many to leave at once. The fire alarm on the staircase between their floor and the children’s floor seemed the best option. Time however was limited. Once someone noticed that the boys were nowhere to be seen, the countdown was on. 

The boys skidded through halls and ran down stairs to get to their target as fast as possible. Within ten minutes they were at the door to the weapons they desired. They looked at eachother, and Crutch grabbed Ash’s hand, then together they swiped the doctor’s card over a small tablet on the wall. With a high pitch *beep*, the doors opened silently. The boys walked in, staring with amazement and wonder at what lay within. Ash was the first to point out the sign labeled “Boiler room” with an arrow pointing down. As they walked towards the sign an alarm started to blare, the calm blue lights now turning an angry red. “I guess they figured us out.” Crutch said amusingly, then grabbed his twin’s hand and ran down to the boiler room. 

Inside, machinery hummed at an uncomfortable level. Both boys searched for ways to use this room to their advantage. Then they found it. If a certain wheel was spun, valves in the main boiler would open and heat would travel out. Without thinking both boys went to the wheel and turned it together with wheel, boys, and boiler all groaning in protest. As one valve after another started to open up, the heat started to rapidly increase. By the time all valves were open, the pair of boys were drenched in sweat. Crutch left the wheel, walking around to find something to aid their purpose. He had found it. He pointed excitedly and called to his brother. “Look Ash. It’s that weird manual heating system you mentioned. I bet if we opened all of these the heat would go up and then everything’ll be in flames.” They nodded at the smart plan of action, opening all of the chutes that led up. With all of them open the room's heat started to decrease, the heat was going up. The only issue was that it wasn’t fire, just extreme heat. “I wonder what this does?” Crutch asked, tapping at an incased button.

“Tap it.” Big mistake. The boys watched as the red color seemed to drain from the button and then everything happened at once. The heat seemingly increased ten fold, and there was a massive hole in the side of the boiler. Large flames started to spew from the gaping hole, filling the room with flame. Some of the flame went out of the chutes to escape containment, but a lot of the fire was still within the room. The boys choked and coughed on smoke. They turned to leave but found the door they had come through to be locked. “DAMN IT.” Ash screamed, banging his fists hard against the warming metal. “It must be some security thing-” They looked at eachother. They were trapped, and were slowly suffocating on the smoke and ash around them. Ash grabbed his brother’s hand and led him away. They ran through another door. The room was filled with older, unused boilers, but it to was starting to warm up, not much longer before it to was filled with- *BOOM* an explosion rocked the building and threatened to deafen both boys. They covered their ears and looked at each other. “What the hell was that?”

“I think the fire’s spreading to other boilers. They’re exploding.” Anyone with the boys would think they seemed almost perfectly normal and calm, but Ash could see the smallest line creasing his brother's brow, the only sign of worry. 

Ash went to grab his brother’s hand in a way of comfort. “Hey, hey it’ll-” but he stopped mid sentence. His eyes went big and his pupils went small and this was the first time Crutch had ever seen pure terror on his brother’s face.

“Andres?”

“Cristian…CRISTIAN RUN!!!” Ash grabbed his brother's hand and ran as fast as he possibly could.

“What-” But Crutch’s voice was cut off by the roar of a fire, rushing toward them at unimaginable speeds. “ASH WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE IT.” He screamed to be heard over the roar of the oncoming fire. 

“YES WE WILL.” They ran faster and faster, tiredness and soreness becoming unknown to them. The roar drew closer and it was becoming uncomfortably hot. They ran through one boiler room after another, but it seemed to never end. At some point the roar had caught up with them. Ash looked back, terror written all over his face. He looked around and found it. A small opening…but it was only big enough for one boy, not two. He shook his head and violently pushed his brother aside. 

“Andres what-” But Crutch was silenced by the heavy push he received into the damp corner. Ash flung himself on top of him and they looked at eachother. “Ash what are you doing-” The roar had become so loud that Crutch couldn’t hear his brother’s words. “What-” And then his eyes went wide with realization. “ANDRES NO-” but it was too late. He watched as his brother withered and screamed at the pain. All Crutch could hear was his brother’s screams. He watched as the fire roared past. He watched as his brother’s skin seemingly melted off his body. All he could do was watch in horror at the scene before him. The heat continued to grow, and it was too much for both boys, who passed out seconds later. 

When Crutch came too he found that he was burned. He could care less however, because the steaming body of his brother lay on top of him. “Ash-” he croaked, and tried to grab his brother's shoulders. He responded with a scream of terror and pain, and wouldn’t stop. “No, no, no, no, no, no-” He tried to grab the part of his twin that looked the least burned. “Ash, listen to me. I know it’s probably awful, but you need to stop screaming and we need to move on.” Ash looked at his brother, then slowly calmed down. His body was in so much pain. Ash nodded and followed. They walked slowly now, now that the fire was in front rather than behind. “I wonder if the building is burning yet-” Ash simply nodded his head. As they walked on, Crutch cleared his throat a few times. The ash and smoke seemed to cling heavy to his lungs and windpipe. He looked over at his brother, watching as he silently held back tears of agony. They stopped, Crutch putting the bottle back. He then stared at the gauze wraps in the bag. “Andres, c’mere, I wanna check your hands.” Ash shook his head in protest but in the end did what his brother said. Crutch examined Ash’s hands and arms to the best of his ability, then looked at his brother. “I’m going to take off your shirt to see how bad everything is underneath.” He wouldn’t have to, the shirt had already burned off the back. Crutch held in a cry as he saw the second and third degree burns that covered his brother’s body and thought of how much pain his brother must be in. He said nothing, and instead grabbed his brother’s hand and walked on. The boys didn’t make it very far, Ash was on the verge of passing out again; he had already done it multiple times. The pain was too great. Crutch helped ease him down to the ground as softly as possible, but his brother still let out little whimpers of pain. Crutch watched as his brother just sat, he had never seen him so mellow before. Even when he had been blinded in the left eye he hadn’t acted like this. Then again his body had never been in pain like this. Even with Ash’s protection Crutch had still received some burns, but obviously not as severe as his twin. His arms, hands, face and neck were burned, Crutch cursed as he touched the skin and was met with a searing pain. He was usually beaten for his language but now could speak freely. He tried to lighten the mood with this. “Look at this, another bright side, Andres. I can say whatever I want and no one can stop me.” He put on a proud face. Ash tried his best at a smile, but screwed his eyes tight with pain. Crutch’s proud face fell. Ash tried to open his mouth but it peeled apart in a melted mess. Crutch watched as tears of pain gathered in his brother’s eyes. He kneeled down beside him, “it’s ok Andres, it’ll heal soon enough.” Ash tried again at opening his mouth and succeeded, but only opened about two-thirds, the rest seemed to have melted together. He sat there with his mouth opened but the only sound that came out was his ragged breath. He opened his mouth wider but still, no sound. A look of panic washed over him and he started to squirm. Crutch’s eyes went wide and his pupils small. “Andres, can’t you talk?” His heartbeat quickened as he watched his brother panic more, still no sound coming from him. Crutch grabbed his twin by his arms and turned to face him. Ash finally let out a sound; a screech of pain. Crutch instantly let go. They looked at each other, tears running down their faces. “It’s *hic* ok Andres, maybe it’s just the smoke and ash coating your throat?” The look Ash gave him made him uncertain that it was just bad air that had done this. If it had been, he would’ve been affected too. 

Ash was the first to stand up. After a long rest he was ready to go again. Hand in hand, they followed the scorch marks along the tunnel, everything seemed destroyed. The silence that engulfed them was painful, knowing that even if Crutch talked, he’d get no response. Ash just watched the floor as they walked, kicking pebbles every now and then. 

The twins looked up simultaneously as they noticed the rise in temperature. Ahead, there was an orange glow, and there seemed no way around it. The boys walked forward, Ash’s grasp on his brother’s hand tightening. They got close enough to view what was happening, then stopped. This part of the tunnel was on fire, and then it seemed to give way to darkness. The issue was the darkness seemed far off. “If we run, we’ll probably make it-“ Crutch ventured, and looked at his brother who shook his head. Crutch squeezed his brother’s hand. “We’ll make it. Alive. I promise. We’re so close to freedom.” Ash weighed this in his head then slowly pulled his brother along. That’s when there was a rumble, and part of the tunnel gave way. Half of the tunnel behind them was now filled with dirt. Crutch cursed, louder this time. “Looks like this area is unstable-“ he touched the side wall and it crumbled in his hand. “Damn-“ this part of the tunnel was so old, no one had been down this far for years. It had been closed off but the fire had blown through everything. The boys hoped that everything was better on the other side. Crutch lifted up his shirt to cover his mouth and nose, and Ash followed suit. “Ok, we’re going to run and get out as fast as we can. You think you can do that?” Ash gave the smallest of grunts, and Crutch smiled, squeezing his brother's hand, then they ran.

Ash panicked ten feet in and turned to run away. Crutch looked back, “I know you’re scared, but we’re so close, cmon!” Famous last words from Crutch. Part of the tunnel caved in in front of the boys, who scrambled over. As Ash was coming down, a pipe fell, and rolled to his feet. They kept running, and were two-thirds of the way through. Crutch could see the light, they were so close! Then he saw a flash of orange, then darkness. Crutch screamed as a burning hot pipe fell on him. 

“ANDRES-“ he screamed as the burning hot pipe fell on him. Ash drew near but there was a loud groan, and the rest of the ceiling caved in. As the dust cleared, Ash found his brother barely breathing. “Ash- Ash it’s so hot-“ his brother's arm lay at an odd angle, the left was trapped underneath the pile of ceiling. Ash knelt down, wiping away the blood that dripped down his face. He started to slowly dig away the dirt, a task that was made much harder by his burned hands. Then he beheld the pipe that lay on his brother. Crutch lay mumbling to himself and his eyes were slowly rolling up into his head. Ash knew that he couldn’t possibly lift the pipe, so he instead started to dig underneath his brother. He wiped the tears that were in his eyes, ignoring the burning in his throat from ash and smoke. Thankfully for him, the collapsed ceiling put out most of the fire around him, but he still had to work quickly. Ten minutes later, the space beneath his brother was deep enough for him to wiggle Crutch out. He grabbed his brother under the arms and pulled. Crutch moved a little, but his hips were now stuck. Ash put his brother down and went to the pipe. With all his might he pushed, and the pipe moved only a few inches. Those few inches however, was enough. Ash pulled on Crutch again and his brother slipped free.

What Ash was met with, did not shock him but it made his gut twist. His brother's legs and arms were all sitting at odd angles, and they bent at places that they should not. Ash gritted his teeth for what he was about to do next, and half picked up his passed out brother. Ash dragged his brother slowly through the dying fire. He tried hard not to stop and make it through as fast as possible, but his burns made that extremely hard. He dodged fallen pipes and parts of the tunnel that were caving in. After a while they finally made it through the fire, and Ash felt like he was dying. He had inhaled so much smoke and ash that he could barely breathe in or out air. He smiled as he saw light enter the tunnel, even if it was dull. He walked faster, ignoring the pounding in his head and his entire body throbbing in pain. He walked towards the light and squinted, then sucked in his first breath of fresh air. He heard sirens and saw smoke in the sky. He looked out towards the direction the boys had come. CORRECTION was up in flames. He smiled, then everything went from blurry to black.

Ash awoke in a strange place. Everything smelled of rotting flesh, but was slowly being covered by the smell of his flesh that was melting off. He was in a house of some kind, but it was extremely bare. Three small beds and a table with some chairs. There was a noise and Ash searched frantically for anything to protect himself. He found his brother asleep next to him. He was silent as three people walked in. He sat up, trying to ignore how the room spun. Still he teetered, and the person in the middle ran to catch him. Ash let out a grunt and hit this person hard across the face. When the room stopped spinning, he realized he had hit a man, and there were two women behind him. “Captain,” The women of a darker complexion called, and Ash watched as she tried to run to his side. The man held his hand up and motioned for her to step back, his face was red from the strike. 

“Now that’s an odd first impression,” the man laughed. Ash had never seen someone so cheerful, and he shrank away from the odd man. “Hey, hey, sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya-” Ash gave all he could manage, a grunt, and tried to hit the man again. 

“Feisty boy huh?” said the other lady. She had a robotic lower leg, and was wearing a blue hat. Ash watched everyone, baring his teeth ever so slightly. He instead punched the wall, and watched as his fist made a nice dent. He turned and smiled at the three. He then looked at the man, snarled, and lunged. 

They did a deadly little dance, Ash letting out little screams and the women yelling from the sidelines. The man said nothing but his eyes held a certain look he couldn’t place. The man grunted and sat Ash in a chair, holding him tightly by the arms as he thrashed. “Andres-” came the weary voice of Crutch. Ash stopped moving immediately, drawn by his brother’s voice. He shoved the man off of him and ran to his brother’s side, grabbing his hand. The man let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh, and got up. Ash felt his brother’s grip tighten.

“So I assume you are brothers?” Ash couldn’t say anything, he only looked at Crutch. Crutch looked between the two and then at the women.

“We’re twins.”

“What are your names, boys?” The man's eyes twinkled in a way that the pair didn’t like.

“I'm Cristian, this is Andres.”

The man laughed and stood at full height. “You’re brother’s a fighter, that’s for sure Cristian.”

“Well obviously,” Crutch exploded, Ash tensed at his brothers surging emotions, “they beat you if you don’t beat them first.”

“Who beats you?” Crutch said nothing. The man took a step closer and Ash tensed, the man took a step back. “Someone hurts you?”

“Well obviously. Why do you think we ran away?” He realized he may have said too much.

“Don’t worry. I know you’re the boys from the hospital. No, I’m not going to tell. We want to help.” the man held his hands out. “But why’d you burn the place down?” His eyes sparkled.

The brother’s looked at each other and Ash nodded. “Because they wouldn’t let us go.”

“You could’ve run away some way else.”

“We tried other ways. We didn’t want it to exist so no one would be in pain. So no other kids are beaten like us.”

“Did they beat only you?”

“I think so-”

“Did they test you?”

“No, they were afraid to.” Crutch said flatly.

“Afraid?”

“That we’d kill them if they put something in us.” He smiled at the women.

“Why would you kill them?”

“We’re psychopaths, it’s what we’re supposed to do.” The women cursed loudly, Crutch responded with a curse of his own.

The man watched them, “Psychopaths or not, you’re dying.”

“You can’t take them to a hospital cap, they’ll be recognized instantly.” 

“Your name’s Cap? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s actually Ryker, and I'm the ‘captain’ or ‘cap’.” Crutch just raised a burned eyebrow, not amused in the slightest. “Even if you don’t like my name, you’re still dying, and you need help quickly.”

“We’re fine-”

“No, your brother is covered in third degree burns, you’re covered in second degree burns. Your brother’s left hand is smashed to pieces, and your legs and arms are as well. You won’t live very long with injuries like that.” The boys just stared.

“Ok.”

Ryker shook his head in amusement. “Well, even if you don’t care, I do. So we’re helping you.”

“I’m-” but Crutch was cut short by his brother, almost passing out on him. Ryker ran towards the boys and caught Ash again. This time Ash didn’t fight back, a bad sign. Ryker put him down on another bed. He looked back to see Crutch with tears in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away. “Can you help him?” he asked quietly. Ryker nodded, and spoke softly but quickly to the women, who left a few minutes later.

“Don’t worry Cristian, we’ll help him. We’ll help both of you. Now rest.” Crutch could barely nod before he passed out.

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