Chapter seven:
Dante's pov
Dante sat on the on the Foundation's training room's floor. He had tried to teach Lok some different fight moves. Well he had tried, that was all he could say. He couldn't say that look wasn't committed, but he was, let's say clumsy. And now Dante was sitting on the floor, while Lok was jumping through the training room like a monkey. Yes, Lok was a nice guy. Dante gave him a chance and he turned out to be a good friend. He was just sometimes a little bit childish. And that now was one of these moments in which Dante almost felt like he was a baby sitter and not a Foundation seeker. Metz and Guggenheim had left the basis to follow Zhalia Moon's tracks. Dante was almost mad at them. He had wanted to go after her and now he was sitting around in the basis with a monkey that pretended to be a 15 year old boy. He had been worrying about the woman, while she was injured, not them, not Metz, not Guggenheim. Metz and Guggenheim had been on their trip for five days now and they still hadn't found her.
In that moment the doorbell rang. Dante jumped up to his feet, which appalled Lok and the boy fell with a loud `Wham´ on the ground. Dante didn't mind, he made his way up to the door, through the basis. He opened the door and Metz and Guggenheim stood in front of him. They were alone. Dante looked at them puzzled.
`Hello Dante. Our trip came to a surprising end. I think we should all go up to the living room´, Metz said with a calm voice. Dante only looked at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Guggenheim shook his head slightly. Dante closed his mouth again and led them to the living room.
`Where is Lok? Is he making a good progress? ´, Metz asked, still not looking Dante in the eyes.
`Metz what happened, what's going on? ´, Dante asked his voice full of worry.
Metz looked to the ground, than he looked up `Dante, I want you to be calm now. I am sorry, but she is dead´.
Dante's eyes were filling themselves with anger and sorrow. `How´, he asked.
`The Organization was faster than we were. We found a village that was burned down. No one had survived and in the ruins we found the dress, which you gave to her. It was full of blood and we were no more able to identify her body. We tried it, but the body was too burned and injured. I am so sorry Dante. I know the girl was important to you, but we can't save everyone´, Metz put a hand on Dante's shoulder. In that moment Dante realized that he was shaking. He turned around and headed to the door.
`That won't bring her back´, was the only thing Dante answered. With that he left the room. He felt weak. The woman had been haunted by the Organization too. And now there no more was a chance to find out what she did, but that wasn't the thing that bothered him. He was sad, filled with sorrow. He didn't know why, but this woman had somehow meant something to him. And now there was nothing left of her than a dead body…
Zhalia's pov:
Two days earlier:
Zhalia went through the dark streets. It was about three o`clock in the morning. Again she had been hunted by nightmares, so she had left her room for a walk. It looked like it would start to rain soon. Zhalia was happy, all of her injuries had healed well and she had bought new clothes, but there was one thing that she almost liked more. She knew that someday the Organization would find her. She had to change her look. One day earlier she had dyed her hair red. First she wasn't very fond of it. She had always liked her midnight blue hair, but she had no other chance. Her hair was now curly. Although Zhalia knew that she would come back to her old hair colour as soon as she had left the country. She now no more wore Dante's dress, she had bought a new one. It was in the style of wood men. It was from a brownish green colour and over the dress she wore a bodice. In about three days she would leave. She opened the door to the guesthouse and walked upstairs. The stairs were creaking. She hated that. She entered her room and closed the door behind her.
`Are we having a new hair cut? ´, a voice behind her made her jump. Quickly she took out her daggers, ready to kill, when she realized that it was Sophie, who was nearly stepped by her daggers.
`What are you doing in my room, are you sneaking on me? I remember booking a room, but not an annoying chick´, Zhalia whispered. If it wouldn't have been night, she would have screamed. What did that girl think?
Sophie looked unimpressed `Where are you going every night? I know that you leave the house, tell me´.
Suddenly Zhalia smelled something strange. First she didn't know what, but then she knew it. It was fuel.
` Shut up´, she said quickly.
`No, I'm not shutting up. I don't know what. But you have something to hide. You are…´, but Zhalia cut her off.
`Get out of here. Leave the village. Hurry´, she said. Sophie just looked at her.
`Do you think you can tell me what to do? I'm a Casterwill, remember? You can't…´, Sophie protested.
In that moment the house next to the guesthouse exploded. Sophie screamed. They didn't have time. Zhalia took Sophie's wrist and dragged her to the window.
`Jump´, Zhalia called.
`What, what, I can't, I will hurt myself… Aaaaaah!´, too late Zhalia had pushed her out of the window and followed her quickly. Of cause they didn't get hurt by jumping out of the window.
`Are you crazy? You will kill us both you…´, wham a peace of brick from another blown up house knocked Sophie out.
`No´, Zhalia screamed. Blood was flowing out of a wound in Sophie's head. Great, Zhalia thought. Zhalia lifted her up. And behind them the guesthouse exploded. Zhalia heard people screaming and children cry. She brought Sophie out of the village to a near wood.
She looked down at the girl, than she made her way back to the village. She was creeping through the streets to the place, where now only the ruins of the guesthouse were. The Organization would search for her body she thought. She found some old things that had been in her room.
There it was. The dress, which Dante had left her. Of cause it was burned but she could still identify it. She scanned the area. Everywhere was smoke. Finally she saw a dead woman's body. The woman could no more be identified. She was burned and injured.
Zhalia changed the woman into the dress and put her near the guesthouses ruins. The Organization would fall for her trick. They would believe that she was the dead woman. Her hands were painted red from the dead woman's blood. She was making her way through the streets back to Sophie as she heard voices.
`Is she dead, Jonathan? ´, a man asked.
`Yes master, she couldn't have survived that blast and I found a body. She was wearing the dress, which she wore as she came to the village´, a man answered and Zhalia recognized his voice. It was Jonathan, Sophie's ``godfather´´. He must have been a spy. He had betrayed Sophie, her whole life. And the other man had to be Rassimov. She had seen him sometimes, while working for the Organization. He was a barbarous and cruel man. He had to be the new leader of the Organization. Things were getting better and better, she thought ironical.
Sophie still hadn't woken up as Zhalia arrived. She was pale and her face was full of blood and coom and dirt. Zhalia felt uncomfortable as she remembered that she somehow had to tell her, that her beloved godfather was a two-faced ass, who had betrayed her. Zhalia knew that Sophie was in need of a healer and she herself didn't feel well too. She had breathed in too much smoke and she felt dizzy. Although her wounds had healed, she still was weak and tired. Zhalia knew though, that they didn't have time. The sun would rise soon and then the Organization would probably check the paths.
Zhalia lifted Sophie up. Luckily Sophie was a small girl, although Zhalia wasn't very fast. There was only one place she could go. The Huntik Foundation. It was the only place, where she could be sure the Orgnization wouldn't find them. Somehow Zhalia knew that in the next time Kayla Evans would live again, not Zhalia Moon. She hoped that Dante and the others wouldn't recognize her. She didn't want to explain anything to them. She would only bring Sophie there, rest a while and then she would go her own way. At least Zhalia hoped that.
On the next farm I'll steal a horse, Zhalia thought furious.
Dante's pov:
In the present again:
Dante had locked himself up in his room for hours now. He still couldn't believe it. She was dead. He tried to understand why it meant so much to him. He didn't even know her. Suddenly someone knocked at his door.
`Dante, Metz needs your help´, Lok's voice sounded hushed through the door's wood. Dante sighed. He couldn't lock himself up forever. There were people dying everyday, because of the Organization. In the last days, she had died, tomorrow maybe he would die and the world would just go on turning. He opened the door.
`Where is he? ´, he asked.
`Downstairs, he needs help bringing an injured girl in the infirmary room´, Lok answered, happy that his mentor was talking to him again.
`Ok, thanks Lok´, Dante said and hurried downstairs. As he made his way to the living room he passed some doctors that were carrying a barrow with an injured girl lying on it. The girl was maybe as old as Lok. Her head was wounded and she was unconscious. In the living room Metz and Guggenheim were waiting for him.
`Good to see you Dante. Looks like you're feeling better´, Guggenheim said. Dante just nodded.
`What happened? ´, he asked Metz. Metz made a step to the left and Dante was now able to see a young woman. He made a step ahead and the woman looked at him.
`What is it? ´, she asked. Dante couldn't believe it. He looked at her. If her hair wouldn't have been red and curly, she could have looked like Zhalia Moon. But then he reminded himself of her death. It couldn't be.
`I'm sorry. I must have took you for someone else. I didn't want to scare you´, he said quietly.
The woman only looked at him.
`Like you did´, was the only thing she said while looking at him sarcastically. Although the woman's behavior was the one of a strong woman, she looked weak and exhausted.
Her hair was red and curly although it wasn't combed it still looked beautiful. She wore a brownish green dress. Her pale skin was covered with coom and dirt. Her eyes were chocolate brown, but to Dante it seemed, like she didn't want to look at him. He didn't know if it was fortune or volitional, but her hair fell into her face, so couldn't see her face clearly.
`Dante, this is Kayla Evans´, Metz said ` she rescued and brought Sophia Casterwill to us. Their village has been destroyed by the Organization. Sophie and Kayla will stay at the basis. Sophie needs medical attention and Kayla wants to rest´. Dante nodded. The woman still didn't look him in the eyes.
`Kayla, I will bring you to the infirmary. One of our healers will check your injuries´, Guggenheim said friendly.
`No, I don't need a doctor. All I need is a room´, The woman stood up quickly and made her way to the door.
Metz and Guggenheim looked puzzled. `Ok, if that's what you wish. Dante, show Kayla her room please´, Metz said.
Dante nodded again. He followed the woman to the door. He brought her upstairs. When he opened a room for her he looked at her once again. She didn't look healthful. She looked weak and exhausted, uncountable scars and scratches were covering her pale skin.
One of the scars started over her left eyebrow and ended under her left eye. The scar looked gory. She must have gotten it recently.
`Are you sure you don't need a doctor´, he asked.
He put his hand up to her face to touch the scar, but suddenly she bat his hand away. It made a loud `smack´ as her hand met his. She had good reflexes. She held on to his hand.
Dante was startled. She came nearer and looked him in the eyes now. Her eyes were completely cold. He felt her nails engraving little cuts in his palm.
`Don't ever dare to touch me again´, she said with an icy voice. As fast as she had bat his hand, she let it fall again and entered the room.
Dante heard a loud ``bang´´ from behind him and he knew that she had banged the door. He looked down at his hand. There were five little cuts on it, one on the back of his hand and four on his palm. Little drops of blood were flowing out of every cut…
Zhalia's pov:
Great, now she had his blood on her hands.
She leaned against the door. She didn't have another chance. If they would examine her, they would find out who she was. Her further bullet wound could still be seen. She didn't feel good. She didn't want anyone to touch her. Not after she had lost everything. She was vulnerable. She knew that she had already become weak. Six weeks ago she wouldn't have rescued Sophie and it was his fault.
It had been Dante's eyes that had remembered her of other people's pain, of her pain. She wouldn't let herself be manipulated. Not by Dante Vale. He would not manipulate her…
Well,
It looks like you guys are very lucky, because I have found the time to write a new chapter…
I hope you like it, because it was hard work. I also have a link for Zhalia's new dress… You will find the link on my profile… Please tell me if you liked it…
Thanks for all the nice reviews…
Thanks for reading…
Yours MissLaboe…
