The Druid Gene by Jennifer Foehner Wells Page B

control all of us if we just step out of our cages as one.”
    No one budged. She saw a few hymenoptera with shock sticks enter the room some distance away. She was running out of time.
    She decided to try another tactic. “What are you people? Chicken?”
    That didn’t translate well. There were a few amused glances over shoulders, a few guffaws.
    Right. No one would take her seriously unless she showed them she was willing to go all the way. She just had to be brave, and surely they would see that she was right.
    She backed to the edge of the cell, inhaled a deep, steadying breath, and lowered her body into a runner’s crouch. She pushed that breath out through clenched teeth and pursed her lips as she launched herself over the low curb the marked the outline of her cell.
    And crumpled to the floor in agony. She’d passed through some kind of invisible barrier that had given her an electrical shock, like cattle fencing.
    Her nose and teeth dug into the spongy flooring, flooding her senses with industrial scents and foul, organic odors. Hot bile rose in her throat as every nerve ending twitched and every muscle contracted.
    “Aughpfgh,” she groaned, and struggled to regain command of herself. She pushed her head up and gulped for air. “Come on!” she coughed. “All of us together.”
    She looked down at herself as she shoved up on her hands and knees. Translucent blue lines glowed under her skin. She didn’t have time to think about that. She stood unsteadily.
    The entire room had gone silent.
    The hymenoptera were heading for her. She took off, stumbling in the opposite direction, every eye in the room on her. She began to feel ridiculous and impatient. “Get up off your asses and fight with me!”
    There was no reply to her outcry.
    Crickets didn’t chirp, but the hymenoptera did.
    More of them funneled into the room. She was picking up speed when she saw hymenoptera coming her way and scrambled to turn and dart down another row. At least no one was laughing at her now.
    She continued in this manner until there were few options left. They were gaining on her and not another soul had left their cell to join her. Either they were completely beaten down and had given up all hope or they knew something she didn’t. She couldn’t believe it hadn’t worked. She felt a terrible sense of betrayal and loss. She’d been stupid to act so rashly.
    Two hymenoptera were headed straight for her. There was one coming up behind her and several were moving in from adjacent rows. She had to buy more time by acting unpredictably. What was the worst that could happen at this point? It was unlikely they’d kill or maim her if they expected her to fetch a high price.
    As long as she was alive, there was hope.
    She slowed down and spun, digging her toes into the spongy flooring as she turned and charged in the opposite direction, head down, teeth locked. She ducked low and plowed into the single hymenoptera that had come up behind her, catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor, the shock stick flying from his pincer before he could use it on her. She didn’t allow the crash to slow her momentum. She vaulted over him and kept going, darting like a rat in a maze off in another direction.
    She couldn’t keep up the farce for long. They were getting wise to her, spreading out like a net and funneling her into a corner. Her freedom was shrinking before her eyes.
    They came in pairs now, so she wouldn’t be able to get by them again. She grunted and turned, meeting the eyes of another prisoner who just looked back at her sadly. It seemed like sadness, anyway. It was hard to tell because the individual was almost completely concealed by dark brown shaggy hair so dense all she could see were eyes. She couldn’t even guess their gender, if they even had a gender.
    Were they all lost? Had they all given up hope? Then she saw that individual’s eyes travel down to her hands and widen, his or her apathy transforming into