CHAPTER ONE – WELCOME TO GATLIN

I was about to get the shit beaten out of me, that much was clear. Let me give you my position…

I had to leave. There were no logical reasons behind my departure, just that it had to happen, at any and all costs.

All I had to my name now were the clothes on my back, the crap that I had hastily jammed in my backpack, and my self-defense skills.

I needed a phone. I needed a bathroom. I needed a shower. I needed a place to sleep.

Rows and rows of corn weren't really what I had in mind, so I continued trekking down the road. I saw signs for Gatlin; where there's a town, there's civilization.

I stopped short when I heard ranting and huffing in the field beside me. I strained to hear the words, but they were muffled. Angry, though. No doubt about that. My curiosity got the best of me – as it often did – and I cautiously stepped into the maze of corn. The stalks were taller than me, and I knew I would get lost.

The sound of voices grew closer, and in between the stalks, I glimpsed what I thought were people in a clearing. As I got nearer, I realized that it was a band of teenagers, all seated Indian-Style, looking in the same general direction.

I decided to back off. I turned around slowly and came face-to-face with a monster of a boy.

And that's where I remained.

The tall boy with broad shoulders, tangled red hair, and a scowl pressed a calloused hand to my mouth, and drew a machete from its holster on his waist.

"Mmmph!" I protested against his palm, struggling backwards into the arms of a second assailant. He gripped me underneath the armpits and held me off the ground. It fucking hurt.

The redhead grinned maniacally as he pressed the knife to my throat.

Not today.

A sudden, almost inhuman surge rushed through me; adrenaline gave me aid in the face of death, and I savagely kicked out in front of me. I didn't see where, but I had nailed the redhead hard. He grunted in pain and stumbled backwards, dropping the knife.

The surprise from the force of the kick connecting with a body caused some sort of confusion for the guy who was holding my arms out. As soon as I felt him slack off a bit, I twisted as hard as I could to one side, moving almost to flip him, and simultaneously slide out of his choke-hold. He rolled to the ground, hit something – lucky for me, and I leapt up, and lunged for the knife.

I was met by the redhead, who had somewhat recovered from my attack – sounds cheesy, I know. His practiced hand reached the handle of the weapon and I, out of desperation, wrapped my hands around the blade.

Sharp, searing, red-hot pain shot through me, numbing my tongue. It ebbed quickly though, as more adrenaline pulsed through me. If there was a God, He or She was certainly on my side today.

I curled my hands into fists; I couldn't afford anymore gashes in appendages I needed so badly in my life. The redhead snarled in rage and ran forward. He would either try to run me through deliberately, or attempt to hack me into pieces.

I sidestepped, which was my only option. He caught his balance and whipped around to face me.

"OUTLANDER!" He cried, rushing towards me once again. He raised the knife over his head as he approached, and I ducked, using my shortness to my advantage. I lunged forward, feet pressing the ground hard, and hit the boy right in the abdomen. I aimed to take him down, and I did. My arms were around him like a bear hug to the belly.

We hit the ground together, and his weight combined with the sharpness of his spine sent a jolt of agony through my torn hands. I screamed, and in defense, dug my fingernails into his lower back. I hoped he would roll over so I could throttle him and smash his face into the dirt. He snarled again and rolled, trying to pry me off of him.

He's using both hands… the knife! He must have dropped it!

I could taste victory, even as he repeatedly lashed out. With a screech of rage I hadn't felt in months – it felt so good to be the old me again – I grabbed both of his hands in my bleeding ones. Even under his kicking legs, I moved up to straddle his lower stomach.

He stared at me, and I looked directly into his eyes. At that moment, we were both merciless, and hungry for blood. I took the collar of his plaid shirt in one hand, balled it up into a fist. And I raised my other hand above my head, leaned back, flexed, and delivered an elbow to his cheek. I saw tears well up in his eyes as the laceration on his face began to ooze.

I skittered backwards, took the knife from the ground, and stood over my assailant.

He looked up at me, the cut on his face already beginning to scab and bruise.

I held the point of the machete right above his heart. "You can't just go around attacking people. Especially if you don't know what they're capable of."

He snickered, all fear gone, replaced with loathing and vile aggression. "We'll see what you're capable of when Judgment Day arrives." With a cough I took to be a laugh, the redhead passed out beneath me.

Believing the carnage had passed, I slumped over, dropped the knife a few yards away, and turned to walk out of the cornfield.

"Welcome to Gatlin, interloper." A short boy of about twelve with a nasally voice and a large, round, black hat greeted me. He was backed up by about fifteen or sixteen other children who all looked to be about his age. A boy and a girl stood beside him. They were probably seven. I took a quick look at my attackers. They were probably eighteen. Taking a closer look at the group facing me, I could pick out two or three characters who may have been the same age as my assailants.

"Yeah, welcome indeed… I wanna use a fucking payphone, a shower, and bathroom. Is that too much to ask?"

"You've intruded on our land. He Who Walks Behind the Rows tells me that such an act as this is punishable only by death." The boy with the hat slowly stepped around me to look at the damage. He had a judgmental air about him, and he tapped his foot impatiently.

I glanced at the larger boy, the one who had me in a choke-hold. "In my defense, that lummox hit a rock."

Angrily, the boy hissed at me, "I'm not worried about Amos. This is my henchman. Always loyal, never failing…" he walked in a circle around the body before meeting my eyes. "You cut Malachai down where he stood. What powers do you posses?"

My jaw dropped, slack with surprise and confusion. "P-Powers? I have no idea what you're—"

"Sarah!" The boy interrupted me and brought forth the young girl. "Tell me, what gift did our Lord bestow upon this woman?"

Sarah looked at me. Her eyes were dark with worry and her face was dirty. She looked up and took the boy's hand. "She has no special gifts, Isaac. I told you that. But she is valuable… Her life is worth keeping."

"Ah yes," the boy, Isaac, reached forward with his free hand and cupped my chin. "You will be of use to us, my dear one."

"You're fucked up!" I backed away.

"Your tongue is sharp, and inappropriate. You will receive ten lashes from Malachai tomorrow when he awakens. Or tonight." He smirked, "whichever comes sooner. I will enjoy seeing how you react to such punishment." Isaac turned to Sarah, "come. We will take her away."

I followed them – I didn't have much choice – as the others retrieved Malachai and Amos from the dirt.

Welcome to fucking Gatlin.

Please R&R! I'm working on a second chapter, and it will be up very soon.