Rush of Blood

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Rush of Blood Page 14

by Heather Shahan


  31

  Peony

  I gasp when I peek around the corner and see Gray’s lifeless body. My eyes flick to Crow, the one by his side, and I step forward. I connect to the water in his body, ready to end him, but he looks up at me and I see his tears. He must see my confusion in my expression because he reaches up and touches his cheek as though just realizing he’s crying.

  It makes sense, though. He’s never shown any indication that other people matter to him. What makes this death any different? Why does the man who matters to me matter to Crow? There’s another body mere feet from Gray’s, but Crow doesn’t seem to even notice her.

  I am not frantic, I realize, my mind connecting back to the last time I was in this situation. I may have told myself that I didn’t want to care about anybody this way, but the aching in my chest tells me that I do, maybe even more than I did before.

  My mind races, searching for answers. The only thing that makes sense is that I held firm the fact that I am capable and strong outside of any relationship. I know that Gray believed that, too.

  I may not be questioning whether I have a life to live without him in it, but the tears still come. This is a battle, this is war, and we knew that we would lose people. I just didn’t think it would be Gray.

  “I have to fix this,” Crow breathes. I move to his side, pulling away from Hettie’s grasp. How does he plan to fix this? I wonder.

  I study his features, unable to read his expression. His eyes never leave Gray, but they dart around as though trying to discover the answer. His breathing quickens and I force myself not to hide, afraid he will lash out from his pain.

  Instead he closes his eyes and bows his head, tears flowing freely now. They drop from his eyes to the body in his arms, absorbing quickly into the skin. My brow furrows, confused.

  Crow’s body goes limp and slowly lowers to the floor. Gray’s eyes open a moment later, but they seem to flutter; he can’t seem to focus. I take his hand and connect, easily finding plenty of damage left in his brain. I guide the water in his body—Crow’s water?—to repair his brain tissue, push the bone shrapnel, and mend the bullet’s entrance and exit wounds.

  When I open my eyes, Gray is studying me. He looks to Crow and the dead Ignis feet away. “What the hell happened?” he asks.

  I lift one shoulder and shake my head. “When I got here, you were dead in Crow’s arms. Somehow, he seems to have traded his life for yours.”

  “I was dead?” he asks.

  I nod and rub my thumb where the bullet had broken through his skin, though no mark remains. I motion to the dead guards a little further down the hall. “I’m guessing that one of them shot you.”

  His eyes meet mine and I don’t let mine dart away. Emotions flash across them, processing all of the what ifs. He presses his lips together, holding in the words that don’t need to be spoken, not here. I nod, acknowledging and reciprocating. He kisses me, soft, and I help him to stand, though he has no issues.

  When we turn back towards the hallway Barley is standing there watching us, a small smile on her lips.

  “Where are the others?” I ask.

  “I sent your team to continue the push. Olivija reached out when she saw what was going on and told me to come. We can catch up.”

  Gray shakes his head. “I need to know first,” he tells her. “That man saved me at The Compound and he just died so that I could live. Why?”

  Barley nods, then looks to Crow’s corpse as though it holds all of the answers. “His real name was Drex Calder,” she says finally, then looks back to Gray.

  When he doesn’t respond, she continues. “He didn’t know about you. He was taken to work for Trinity before your mom knew that she was pregnant. When he was assigned at The Compound, he started going by Crow. Morrighan’s Crow.” She pauses and sighs. “That wasn’t a raven that Mo drew, Gray.”

  He lowers his head and doesn’t respond, making sense of where this new information fits within his memories. Then he nods and walks past her towards the battle.

  -

  “We’re not taking prisoners,” Haro taunts as we approach, closing in on a soldier with her hands up. Other Guardia fight nearby while an older one stands in between, looking from the girl to those fighting as if uncertain.

  “I’m not surrendering; I want to help,” the woman says. Her voice is direct, no emotion or fear clouding her words.

  “It’s too late to change your allegiances!” he laughs, shaking his head at her.

  “Stop!” Gray shouts and Haro turns, eyebrow raised. He knows that Gray might as well be Barley’s nephew, though, and waits.

  Gray looks to the soldier, who seems confused at his presence. “What happened to your rulebook, Catt?” he asks after a moment.

  Her face softens and she shrugs, though she keeps her hands raised. “Some rules shouldn’t be followed.”

  He nods, then looks to the older man in between. The soldiers that fought lay dead to his right. “Sir?”

  The man nods, looking at the woman Gray called Catt.

  “A nod isn’t an answer, Sir,” Gray says, calm. “I need to know if you support us.”

  Haro scoffs.

  “I always backed you up, Haven,” the man responds, non-committal.

  “Because I had a use, Sir,” Gray clarifies. “Are you prepared to help us depose Franklin and his generals?”

  He nods slowly.

  “He just wants to live,” Haro says.

  “Is he on our side?” Gray asks Catt.

  She nods. “We’ve had a few conversations since you… left,” she responds. “His hesitance is because he’s loyal and regrets having to break his oath, though he knows it is the right thing to do.”

  Gray pulls a dagger and slices his hand, then uses the blood to draw markings on Catt and Sir’s foreheads: an almost fully enclosed circle, with lines lifting up and out from the opening at the top. Life.

  “Are you serious?” Haro asks. “Eli said no exceptions.”

  Barley steps forward. “If Gray trusts them, I do too.” Haro purses his lips, but doesn’t protest further.

  “Franklin will be this way. Let’s go,” Gray says, walking away without waiting for anyone to follow. I run to catch up and, before he can ask, I connect and mend his hand. When he feels the sting subside, he turns to smile at me, then rolls his eyes and shakes his head playfully.

  32

  Anza

  As we approach the doors to Commander Franklin’s rooms I watch the battles all around us, smaller fights part of a regimented movement. We have trained and prepared for this, and it shows. Barley and Peony turn the corner, approaching with a large group ready to help.

  “Anza, behind you!” Adamyna shouts and I turn just in time to see the soldier explode, blood splattering the walls and floors around him.

  When I look back, Peony lifts the corner of her mouth. I nod my head once in thanks, keeping my true thoughts to myself.

  A few feet away from her a soldier knocks Timber to the ground, impaling him through the heart with his sword before moving towards Saeren. Panicking, I dash towards her. Noticing, as I do, Adamyna shifts into a fruit bat and rushes the soldier, landing on and sinking her teeth into his scalp.

  “A fruit bat?” Saeren asks, incredulous.

  “They have sharp teeth for breaking through hard fruit skins,” she replies with a straight face. I laugh.

  Saeren doesn’t, watching as Gray stabs down into the soldier that he just downed. “How are you alive?” she asks, aghast.

  He looks at her, then down at the floor. “Extenuating circumstances,” he responds and motions to the battle, unwilling to say more. Did she not know he made it out of The Compound, or did something else happen?

  Eli pulls open the large door to Franklin’s rooms and we rush through the circular hall to the room on the other side of the wall. The Commander and his generals are not here, but a large group of soldiers are. Where did they go when they planned this ambush?

  Eli and
Solar rush forward, knocking multiple guards down. Eli shifts into the shadows, waiting for an opening and Solar focuses on a flame mounted in the center of the wall, causing it to grow and spread. I blanch, noticing the large, rectangular table at the head of the room and the bookshelves lining the walls filled with books so old that they must be from well before the solar flare. While he is distracted, another guard swings his sword downwards towards him.

  “Solar!” I hear someone shout. His head jerks up in time to see the blade and he lunges towards the guard, knocking him back. The sword slices into his arm before he loses grip and it clatters to the ground. With his good arm, Solar pummels his head against the wood floor.

  Amayi isn’t so lucky, or skilled in combat. Another comes at him with a sword and, though he deflects the first blow, the second cuts into his neck and nearly decapitates him.

  Smoke begins filling the room and many—both talists and guards—double over, coughing. I notice Eli in the far corner of the room, scrap of cloth tied around his mouth and nose, fighting another guard. Eli knocks his sword away and the guard switches to a boxer’s stance, obviously comfortable fighting hand-to-hand.

  Stella rolls a contraption into the room before shielding her eyes and a bright light and loud bang reverberates as it hits the wall. The talists push through, gaining ground. Estok is felled and, as Barley finishes the guard off, Andari kneels to heal him. When Barley moves on, a guard takes the opportunity to slay the Aqua and wounded Aer.

  A guard rushes me and I notice that he is breathing hard from smoke inhalation. Instead of fighting, I focus on the air in his lungs, pulling it upwards and away from him until he collapses.

  Fresh waves of soldiers rush in through a door across the room that I hadn’t noticed. I watch as Peony faces one and, instead of exploding him from the inside, she constricts his muscles until he collapses to the floor. Barley noticed too and she kneels beside him as Peony tightens his muscles so that his body seizures.

  “Where is The Commander?” she asks him and Peony loosens her grip on his muscles so that he can think about answering the question instead of the pain.

  He hesitates and she squeezes his muscles again. This time he writhes in pain, reaching for his spine and then his neck. I wonder if she’s going for his brain, but she stops short, not wanting him dead yet.

  What happened to her?

  “Why don’t you just kill me?” he asks, gasping for breath when she releases some of the pressure.

  “We don’t need you dead,” Barley states. “We do need to know where The Commander is.”

  “I’m really supposed to believe that you won’t kill me after you get your answer?” he scoffs.

  “Maybe not but it is the only shot you have,” she tells him. “Lead us to them and we won’t kill you.”

  His face begins to quiver and he closes his eyes, nodding. “I have a son,” he tells her, his eyes piercing Peony’s. She looks away and Barley nods, terse, and pulls him to his feet.

  “What’s your name?” I ask, stepping forward and placing my right hand on his shoulder.

  He wavers before answering. “Will.”

  “Eli!” I call out as the Terra finishes off his opponent. He studies Peony’s capture as he approaches. “He is going to lead us to where Franklin is holed up.”

  He raises an eyebrow and nods, intrigued. “If that’s the case then you can lead us,” he responds, gathering the others together.

  —Will you put out the fire before catching up? I ask Saeren, hoping to minimize the damage.

  Will moves slowly at first, assessing how fast he can move before they question his loyalty. He directs us down a set of stairs and into the hall that the most recent attackers entered from, and we all follow, aware and ready in case I was wrong to trust him.

  There are no windows here and the Ignis spread throughout the group, creating flames to light our path. It weaves around, splitting off in multiple directions, until we reach a large, wooden door. Franklin must use this path to move throughout Rockwall instead of the hallways.

  “Just through here,” he murmurs, terrified.

  “Open it slowly,” Barley tells him and he obeys. Eli ducks down behind him so that those inside will only see him. He takes a few steps inside and we listen for a reaction. Instead, I hear an argument.

  “You are incompetent!” a voice yells. “It is your job to keep Rockwall from harm and yet you have allowed an entire army of the mutants inside.”

  As another man responds, I peek around Will. The room is filled with soldiers, all surrounding five men whose expressions are set in frustration. Supplies are stacked in boxes along the walls.

  Eli motions to Peony with his head and she nods, returning to Will and guiding him to the side so that Eli can lead the charge past them.

  I stand with her as she keeps her grip on him. For some reason I doubt her, wondering if I can trust her not to kill him. Does she still have her honor?

  She continues to fight from the sidelines, exploding soldiers that get too close to killing blows for her liking. Am I wrong to feel this way? Everyone else is fighting, killing.

  Using the commotion as a distraction, Commander Franklin runs for another door to the right and the generals that are close follow. A few attempt to grab at them, but soldiers block their moves.

  Enraged, Eli ignores all of the soldiers chasing after him and races for the door. Peony constricts Franklin’s muscles, squeezing until he falls and the closest general trips over his comrade. Eli grabs the first and throws him against the wall, pummeling his fist against the man’s face so hard that the back of his head repeatedly batters the wall behind him.

  As the soldiers reach him, he lets the general fall to the ground and I watch as his skin alters, taking on the texture of tree bark. Peony takes down as many as she is able to, their blood spattering across him, but they overtake him and he falls. Peony lets go of Will and rushes in to help, but she’s too late. Eli’s blood pools the floor.

  I look to Will, his eyes wide and in shock. “Your only chance of escape is to run, now,” I tell him and he nods, turning back the way that we came.

  33

  Eli

  Fuck.

  34

  Gray

  When Eli falls, Peony lets go of her captive and follows Franklin and his three remaining generals through the door and out into one of Rockwall’s many courtyards. I shift into the shadows and follow.

  I always wondered how The Commander would appear in different places throughout Rockwall without any of us ever catching sight of him in the halls. How many knew about these paths between the walls of rooms?

  The cold wind hits me at the same time what little sunlight available blinds my eyes. It was dark in the windowless paths and my skin had grown accustomed to the fire’s heat. The four men run for the door that leads back into Rockwall, but the door has begun to ice over, a thick barrier forming at the seal.

  They turn to face her and she stands her ground, chin raised in defiance. I know that her mind is racing, figuring all of the choices they could make right now no matter how unrealistic and deciding what her response would be. Is this practice the reason she hasn’t just killed them or is she purposefully ensuring that she’s considered all other alternatives first?

  Either way, Anza is wrong about her. I’ve seen the looks the girl has given her, though Peony hasn’t seemed to notice. I think she had this idea of what Peony was capable of and had decided that she’d always be broken and needy. Hell, if that’s who she was, she would be dead right now. Every single person left alive has a death on their hands by now, even Anza.

  I let myself be seen and approach the men, coming to stand even with Peony’s position.

  “Where is that traitor doctor?” one of the generals spits out. “He should see his handiwork, both of his favorites here ready to kill us.”

  Is he talking about Crow, my… father? He was the opposite of a traitor in everything except his last act, even though it turned out he
was one of us. How could he have done everything he did while being a talist?

  “He’s dead,” I tell the man, pushing away my emotions and keeping my voice firm.

  Commander Franklin laughs once. “I told you, Gradinaru. Crow may have underestimated these two, but he was always on our side.”

  The others walk into the courtyard, all the guards slain. The three generals pull swords, thinking they have a chance to survive or preferring to go down fighting?

  Barley walks between Peony and I, stopping a few steps ahead of us. She pulls the air from the lungs of the generals and they fall, their swords clattering on the ground. Peony winces at the sound, but no one else seems to notice.

  A long moment stretches as Barley waits for Commander Franklin’s response. He doesn’t acknowledge the bodies around him, nor does he show fear.

  When she does speak, her voice booms. “My name is Barley Pearse and I am here to relieve you of your command, Alex Franklin. Do you have any last words?”

  “Your actions here in Rockwall will be remembered, but they will not be celebrated. Trinity will know that I foretold the devastation you have committed,” he says, calm.

  “No,” Barley responds, lifting her arm to indicate the mass of talists behind us. “You created this. When I send them back out into Trinity, they will not destroy the republic; they will revolutionize it. You feared our differences and you’ve stagnated.”

  She pauses, debating whether to continue. “Imagine what Trinity will become when we’re there to regulate the weather for the farmers, farm more efficiently, heal the sick and injured, create communication between towns—or even with other groups beyond Trinity. Our republic will be stronger for including us. That’s what the people will see.”

  He stares her down, but does not respond. She did not sway him and she had to know that she wouldn’t. No, he knows that his words will not make a difference and has chosen silence.

 

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