The Retaliation of Seven 9
Author Note: Sorry about the slower updates, guys..*Blush.* It's been a crazy summer.
Ella's P. O. V.
Something wet and drippy drips onto my cheek, making my eyes flutter open before Adam jolts to sitting up properly.
A huge gash his in his neck, obviously made by something like a sword or knife. I gasp a bit, gripping his arm with one hand while trying to get a proper look it myself in attempt to help. Much to my surprise, he slaps my hand away sharply while stumbling off in the other direction. Six groggily begins opening her eyes as I nurse my slightly stinging hand, my eyes wide as I bite my lower lip. Before she can completely rally and get involved, I scurry after him.
"Adam!" I call worriedly. "Adam, you're hurt! You can't just-"
He whirls around sharply, tears misting over his eyes and he snaps, "Don't worry about me!"
I can't help but cower back. Adamus snapping is completely different for him; There must be something really wrong. I can only watch helplessly as he shoves his way into the bathroom, one hand covering the wound on his neck. Moments later, I feel a hand on my shoulder that's well-worn and tense. Judging by that, I'm not surprised to Six looking less than amused. I shake my head to her quietly, patting her hand before nudging it off and heading back to the chairs. I really would like to help him, but if he won't take it, I know I can't after that.
Besides, how embarrassing would it be to follow him into the men's bathroom?
The guys return a few minutes after Six rigidly sits back down, all of their hands loaded with drinks for all of us, burgers/hotdogs, and some candy. I can't help giggle a little despite it all when Nine tosses me a Twinkie and hands me a Coke; He smirks and glances around.
"Where's the Mog boy?" He raises an eyebrow.
I look down briefly before forcing it back up, trying not to look suspicious. "He went to the bathroom."
Six snorts a bit beside me and Nine frowns, raising his eyebrow higher. Nervously, I just nibble on my pastry, letting my auburn hair hide my eyes. I know none of them truly trust and I probably shouldn't either, but he has helped us. I do believe he's going to be able to help us in the long run, and who knows? Maybe he'll even save us one day, though hopefully not at the expense of his own life.
"Flight Number 98 is leaving in ten minutes," the intercom echoes.
"That's us," Sandor states, shoving the rest of his burger in his mouth and standing up.
Quickly, I finish up my Twinkie and toss the wrapper. Six and Nine are both looking at my suspiciously as we follow Sandor, setting me more on edge. I don't want to just tell them about Adam; They might make us leave him behind. So, against my better judgement, I turn around sharply and take off into the crowd, running madly for the men's bathroom. I hear rapid footsteps behind me and the sounds of Nine shouting my name, but I don't slow down until I've ripped open the door. Instantly I'm greeted by men using the urinals, their faces a mixture of embarrassment, annoyance, and confusion; I try to ignore them as I stumble toward the sinks. Sure enough, Adam is bent over one of them, a collection of bloodied brown towels around him and the sink as he dabs at the nasty cut.
"Adam...Adam, our flight is leaving..." I huff out in my lack of breath.
A large hand snatches my shoulder, making me yelp involuntarily as I spin to look at Nine. His face is tight, eyes ablaze as he snarls out to Adam, "Get on or we leave your sorry ass here."
Luckily, he doesn't have to think about it: Adam snatches a last handful of towels and presses it to the still-bleeding cut while following us. I allow Nine to drag me to boarding, (not that I really have a choice when he's got a hold on me,) with guilt eating away at the pit of my stomach. I didn't mean to alarm the others or make Adam angry...
Someone brushes against Nine sharply, loosening his grip on me very briefly. I catch the scene of chlorine seconds before someone grabs me from behind, shoving something over my nose and mouth. The smell of chlorine explodes my senses, making the world fuzz as Nine's grip vanishes. The next few seconds are a blur of bodies and gunfire, as well as lot of shouting and running. Somebody else grabs me off my feet, taking off in the opposite direction. A red drip hits my cheek- I can tell that from my the haze that's bringing me close to darkness.
I'm relieved and thankful for Adamus only until he throws me in the back of a black van and presses a gun to my throat.
Michele's P. O. V.
Something sharp stings my cheek, jolting me roughly from my sleep.
Mistress Gladis stands over me, a permanent scowl on her face as she looks at me. "It's nine o' clock and your sleep in this messy bed!" she barks, raising her hand to slap me again.
Before she can, though. a low noise rises from beside me. I'm relieved as Orphan lifts herself from beside me, giving Mistress Gladis another low growl to make her back down. She's the orphanage's 'pet', but the others kids told me she would growl at almost everybody until Ocean Jem and I were dropped off here a few days ago by those mean government men. I haven't seen her since, but Orphan came up to me while I was hiding under my new bed and licked away my tears. She follows me everywhere now, and she's my only friend and the only reason I haven't been paddled yet.
"Y-yes ma'am..." I whimper, kicking off my sheets in a hurry and struggling to fix my bed.
Mistress Gladis just snorts, stomping away. I'm really scared of her and this place- it's really horrible. All the other kids have marks from being hit by the people who work here, too, and there's almost someone getting hit with the paddle in Mistress Gladis' office. We're all scared and I really, really want Emily or Summer to come back.
I sure hope they're okay.
Orphan licks my hand, almost like she knows why tears are going down my face again. For her sake, I can only try to smile and wonder if Emily ever felt like this with me.
Sarah's P. O. V.
The world is very slowly coming back into torture. The government man that I'd seen first promised torture, and though it probably wasn't as bad as what the Garde have endured in the past, it was still bad. They yelled and clawed at me. giving me several cuts, bruises, and scars. Instead of locking me up this time, though,. they were trying to drug me so heavily I had no choice but to talk.
Like last time, I had to be saved.
But whatever reason rescue efforts for me there were have been stalled. Not long after I was sharply unhooked and I heard a voice that sounded like Emily's, several darts flew over my hazy vision. There's a shrill scream and the sound of a body hitting the floor, so I can't help but scream myself. Another needle is plunged into my arm, but despite my blurred mind and judgement, I'm not going to go down without fighting for whoever was trying to save me. My leg kicks out hard, finding something warm and soft and making some guy gasp. Rolling to the side and falling directly on the floor, I see dark hair and a pale, drained face that's familiar.
"E-Emily..." I gasp out weakly, gripping her front desperately. "Emily, w-wake up..."
A rough pair of hands yanks me away from her instantly. Before he can pull the trigger on the gun he was holding to my chest, though, something bright shoots over my head and the hands disintegrate around my shoulder. Spinning around and stumbling fully at the sharp motion, I see another blonde head with different colored highlights racing in, suddenly pushing me down beside Emily and standing in front of her. From what I can tell, she's got a Mogodorian blaster in each hand and is posed for fighting.
Then again, I'm seeing four of her, so maybe I'm just imagining that.
I'm not sure how much time passes before I wake up again, but when I do, I'm surprisingly not on a cold bench or in a moving truck. Instead I'm in an actual bed, the covers tucked carefully around my aching, abused-feeling body; The lights are even off aside from the dully humming TV. Next to the bed, Emily and the multicolored-hair girl are curled up together. Two things become obvious in unison:
1.) They know each other and are obviously friends.
2.) The multicolored-hair girl saved both of our asses back there.
I slowly move to prop myself up on one elbow and, quickly finding myself to be too weak, resign my focus to the news. The world has get to come back fully into focus, so the TV isn't exactly helping with the volume turning down as low as it is- something about a fire or a shooting or something like that. All I can really do is think, and that means facing the uncomfortable reality that none of us are up for battle right now and are completely helpless to an attack in a hotel. The penthouse was ruined, leaving me with no idea where the others could possibly be now and what we're going to do. I want to call to call John, or Ella, or somebody, but my phone is the penthouse when it went down. The government has probably found what is left of it and hacked into it; If they get the others' numbers we're all just as screwed as we three are now.
I've never really regretted joining the Loric's fight, but I've never wanted to go home as badly as I do now.
The multicolored hair girl stirs, giving me a welcome distraction from my depressing thoughts and reality. I croak out, "H-hello."
She looks at me with half-closed eyes, stifling a yawn and saying quietly, "Good to see you're still alive, Sarah Hart."
"H-how do you know my na-name?" I ask, my voice shaking terribly as I end up stifling a yawn myself. She just smiles sleepily and sits up with strength I merely wish I could have now.
"Five has mentioned you before..." she muses. "And you're pretty well known from the remaining Loric."
"Is th-that a good thing?" I ask weakly, making her chuckle.
"My name is Summer," she introduces herself, slowly making her way over to me and letting me lean heavilly on her in a sitting position. "I'm Five's surrogate Cepan."
"She's mentioned you before...I thought you were dead..." I look up weakly.
"Was," she corrects. "Look, I'll explain everything soon. For right now, I'm starving and we need a way to charge up these weapons. I'm thinking takeout."
Sandor's P. O. V.
After the take, we really had no other choice than to retreat on the plane.
Nine is restless beside me, staring out of the window tightly. The other Garde are in no better condition, and even Henri looks like he's about to be sick to his stomach. I'm not exactly happy about our youngest Garde being kidnapped- she's only eleven and has no real Legacies other than shifting her age and slight telekinesis. Now that the Mogs have her and Adamus betrayed her, we all know she's pretty much as good as dead, but it was save ourselves and continue to preserve our race or save her and die ourselves/be tortured.
I suppose the others have yet to accept this logic.
I look over to my Garde tiredly, placing a hand on his free hand as the other rubs the headache I know has started in the center of his forehead. He barely glances at me before resuming the glare out of the window, inspiring a sigh from me.
"Stanley," I say tightly, quietly. "You know we can't fight a war without losses."
"It doesn't have to be her," he replies just as tightly if not more. "She's only eleven damn years old."
"I know. But that's not our fault," I counter back with a sharp edge to my words. "She made it for a little while on our own, so let's just hope she can make on our own. We have to get Malaysia and save an experienced Garde."
"Experienced?" he scoffs. "At least Ella hasn't died before."
Maybe I shouldn't be offended- he's correct. Even so, the retort makes it's way out before my brain can approve it. "Yeah? Like I have?"
He tenses up and I almost immediately regret what I've said. Obviously it'd be a sensitive subject, especially when he was the one who did it out of mercy for me, but still. He's once again being too closed minded and focusing on one when he should be focusing on the greater good, exactly like he should have been when Maddy betrayed him and I ended up being killed in the end. He needs to see things different before he makes another careless mistake like that, because if he does we're all going to pay and there will be no second chance.
"It was mercy," he states tightly. "Be grateful for that."
"You were the reason I went as it was," I reply back bitterly, unable not to be a little resentful of my Garde for what happened.
He tenses and stands up sharply, harshly knocking my knees out of his way to get in isle. He completely ignores the protests of the waitress as he storms to the back of the airplane, plopping down and turning to the window. It's obvious I've struck a nerve and got him pissed, but I'm not in a much better mood myself as I turn to my own window sharply.
Great, now I have a bad relationship with my Garde in the middle of a war. Just. Great.
