S1 NNF Tyler EP 100

S1 NNF Tyler EP 100
The wind whipped through the open windows, chilling our sweat-soaked bodies and carrying away the stench of the barn. For a brief, shining moment, it felt like we had done it. We had escaped. But the rational part of my mind knew it wasn’t over. We still had miles to go before we were truly free, and any number of things could go wrong.

I glanced over at Alice, noting the way her eyes stared out the window with a hollow vacancy. It was as if she were already a ghost, haunting the memories of a past life that seemed further away with each passing mile.

Was she dwelling on the same thoughts that plague me?

The lives we had left behind.

The terrifyingly uncertain future that loomed ahead of us.

The staggering odds stacked against our survival.

Every moment felt like borrowed time.

Alice had far more at stake than I did, yet she’d come along without the slightest hesitation. That kind of trust was a weighty thing, and I wasn’t sure I could carry it.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure I deserved it.

“We’ll head for the nearest town,” I said, my voice cutting through the thick, oppressive silence that had settled over us like a funeral shroud. “We can find some clothes, maybe a phone. We could call—”

“Who?” she interrupted sharply, turning to face me with eyes that held a brittle, crystalline anger. “Who can we call? My stepfather’s an asshole—he’s the one who sent me to the farm. What about you? Who do you have?”

I thought of Mrs. Green, the only foster parent who had once looked out for me. But she was six feet under now, and the dead were notoriously unhelpful. “I got no one. Maybe the police?”

“Would they even believe us?” Alice muttered, more to herself than to me. She began wringing her hands together, a nervous habit that made her look even more fragile. “Do you really think they’ll help us? Or pose a risk?”

I didn’t have an answer for her.

Deep down, I knew she was right. The farm had connections; the handlers had influence. We’d seen how they could twist the system to their advantage. I shrugged, trying to focus on keeping the truck steady on the road as it went from dirt to paved.

The smooth surface was a welcome change from the rutted dirt paths around the farm, but it also meant we were more exposed.

“We don’t have many options,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “It’s not like we can just go back and—”

“Don’t even suggest it,” Alice snapped, her voice cracking under the strain. “I’d rather die than go back there.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “I’m not suggesting it. I’m just saying we need to think this through. We need a plan.”

Alice’s shoulders slumped, and she turned her gaze back to the window. “I know. It’s just… I’m so tired. I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.”

None of us knew how much more we could take. The farm had a way of grinding people down, stripping away their will, and turning them into something less than human. We were both running on empty, and the thought of facing even more hardship was almost too much to bear.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. “One step at a time.”

The truck’s engine hummed steadily, a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in my head. I stole another glance at Alice, at the way she cradled her belly, at the deep lines of worry etched into her once-innocent face. She’d changed so much since we first met, and not just because of the pregnancy. The farm had aged her, had aged all of us... including me.

“When I first arrived, I thought, ‘Great. A dry bed. Three meals a day. A shower.’ Hell, it was a dream come true,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Boy was I wrong. Man, I thought it was some kind of sick joke. That some television producer would jump out and tell me I was part of some fucked up reality show… The Twisted Mindfuck show, or some shit like that.”

Alice let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, and I thought I was gonna help out around the farm, make some money. If only I’d known what was coming.”

The memories of those early days were almost funny in a tragic sort of way. We had both been so naïve, so hopeful. We had no idea what we were in for, the lengths the handlers would go to break us.

“Hey.” My tone turned serious. “Did they give you a number?”

“Number?” Alice asked, scrunching her nose. “What kind of number?”

“In the breeding arena…” a shiver shot across the length of my spine. “Aaron called me Cow 482.”

“482?” The number came out on a ragged breath. “That’s a lot of, uhm…”

“Women.” I swallowed hard, trying to keep the contents of my stomach in check. “Yeah, it is.”

“The barn’s big… but I don’t think it’s big enough to hold that many.” She chewed on her lower lips. “But there are other structures. Maybe there are more women in one of those?”

“Naw.” I shook my head. “There’s the mess hall, the barn they had us in, the main office, the breeding arena… and then there’s the place they keep the guys.” Not men, not really. “The hubulls.”

“So, where the hell are the other women?” she asked as if I knew the answer.

“How the fuck would I know?”

“Well, you were a farmhand at first.”

“Yeah. For a day. And then Aaron found out I was a chick,” I spat back. “Look. I didn’t know what was going on at the farm. When I found out, I was just as surprised as you… as any of the women were.”

“What’d they do with them? Sell them off to the highest bidder?”

“Don’t know.” Goosebumps erupted across my body, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

The farm covered a lot of acreage. More than enough land to hide the bodies of…

“Maybe we’re better off not knowing,” I said, trying to purge the horrific idea of women being buried in shallow graves from my mind. “Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.”

Silence fell over us again, but this time it was less oppressive, more reflective. We were both thinking about the same thing: how knowledge had changed us, how our experiences had hardened us. We were no longer the innocent, untested people who had arrived at the farm. We were survivors now, for better or worse.

“Hey. I’m sorry,” Alice said softly after a long pause. “For snapping at you. I’m just scared.”

“I know,” I said. “Me too.”

The road ahead was a dark, winding ribbon, disappearing into the night. I had no idea where it would lead us, but at least we were moving away from the farm. At least we had a chance.

“Clara,” Alice said suddenly, almost jumping off the seat. “Maybe Clara can help.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Clara?” The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“My friend,” she explained, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes, only to be extinguished by a heavy, resigned sigh. “But I can’t bring her into this. What if we got her hurt?”

She was right, of course. We were on our own. Involving anyone from our past lives would only put them in danger or, worse, get us sent back to the farm. The handlers had long arms and deep pockets; we’d seen firsthand how they could manipulate and control even those who thought themselves untouchable.

“Let’s just get as far away as we can,” I said finally, my eyes locked on the road ahead as if it held the answers to our plight. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, buckle up.” I struggled to keep one hand on the wheel while fumbling to secure my seatbelt with the other.

“I got it.” Alice leaned over, her fingers deftly latching my buckle before tending to her own. For a moment, I felt a surge of gratitude, but it was quickly smothered by the lingering tension between us. We both knew the score, and there was no point in voicing the fears that already gnawed at our minds.

For now, I focused on the immediate task of driving, trying to put as much distance between us and that hellhole as possible. Each mile we covered felt like a small victory, though I knew they could catch up to us in minutes if they gave chase. The thought of being dragged back, of facing even harsher punishment for our new attempt, sent a cold dagger of fear through my chest.

"We got this." I gave her a half-hearted smile.

But then, just as I allowed myself a sliver of hope, I saw them: oncoming headlights growing brighter and closer at an alarming speed. My heart sank, and a wave of dread crashed over me, threatening to pull me under.

“Fuck me running,” I said, my voice trembling. “Someone’s coming.”