Read Slave Empire - Prophecy for Free Online

night
curled up in the blankets beside the fire, but the next day the
food ran out and there was little firewood left. When the fire died
and her stomach rumbled, Rayne decided she would have to go back
into the city. Without food, she would only grow weaker, and she
could not rely on her brother returning. Rawn could be dead for all
she knew, and to sit here hoping he would come back was sheer
folly. Only the fittest survived on this cruel world, so she had to
find food or starve.
    Quitting her
warm nest took a great deal of willpower, and her injured legs
protested. She buried the blankets under the rock and forced
herself to her feet, grimaced and bit her lip to stifle her
whimpers of pain. Her first few steps were so excruciating that she
nearly returned to her camp, unable to face the long walk. She
refused to lie there and starve, however, so she pressed on,
ignoring the agony that shot up her legs at every stride. As she
walked, her stiff muscles loosened, allowing her to walk a little
more freely, but fresh blood dampened her jeans. She stumbled
often, unable to hide the dangerous weakness that, if a gang of
vagrants or another raider saw it, might lead to disaster.
    Rayne reached
the outer city at midday, and limped through the dingy,
tumbled-down buildings. Rats scampered, squeaking, from piles of
refuse, and she hurried past an occasional corpse, mutilated,
diseased or skeletal. Many vile stenches abused her nose, varying
only in their strength or foulness. Skinny, hollow-eyed people
dodged into ruins at her approach, their eyes gleaming from the
shadows as she passed. Rayne paused in an empty building to regain
her strength and rest her throbbing legs, the pain making her
queasy.
    Keeping a
sharp look out, she only rested for a few minutes. As she rose to
leave, however, she froze at the faint sound of shuffling feet, and
frowned. There were several of them, but the tread was too heavy
for a group of vagrants. Raising her head, she sniffed the wind,
all her senses straining. A vile stench wafted to her, which had
not been there moments before. Terror turned her blood to ice, and
she bolted from the building like a hare from its burrow, only to
stop just outside the door.
    Twenty mutants
formed a semi-circle around the door she had just exited, shuffling
closer. Rayne glanced back as another mutant filled the doorway.
They stood seven foot and over, their long arms reaching to their
knees. Brown, matted hair covered some, and slack lips revealed
long yellow teeth. Others looked more human, but grossly deformed,
and wore only a few dirty rags. One had elephant-like ears and
hands that looked more like clubs.
    Another had a
single eye and nostril, while the mutant beside him had a dog-like
muzzle full of sharp teeth. Some had almost normal faces, but
half-animal bodies with claws, spines or scales. Most of them had
cancerous growths of various sizes, suppurating ulcers that oozed
stinking pus. Their stench made her bile rise, souring the lump of
terror lodged in her throat. Dirt matted their hair and caked their
mottled skins with a layer of greasy filth spotted with patches of
dried gore and pus. A few even had mould growing on them.
    They were
genetic mutants, those unfortunates who had been children or just
conceived when the ozone layer broke down and the sun's radiation
had wreaked havoc on their development. Most had died. These were
the angry, suffering survivors, who killed for food and fun, their
minds as twisted as their bodies. Their size and well-fed
appearance stemmed from their cannibalistic lifestyle, and she was
to be the latest delicacy on their menu.
    Rayne looked
around for a weapon. Rawn had always protected her, and weapons of
any sort were hard to come by, due to the demand for them.
Desperate, she tugged at a steel reinforcing rod protruding from
some rubble, but it was firmly lodged and all she did was scrape
her raw palms on its rusty surface. The approaching mutants stared
at her with dull