Twelve

Madeleine

After the whole fiasco was over, I met Nine and Adam at the farm house so we could pick up our car and leave. None of us spoke to each other as we said our goodbyes to Paul and Mary. As she hugged my neck, the elderly woman I had grown so fond of held me tight as she whispered in my ear,

"If you need anything, let me know." She then slipped a piece of paper with their number on it into my hand. I whispered back a thank you and squeezed her a bit tighter.

Paul helped us load up what little belongings they had given us. Nine had a received a hair cut, one that was cut close on the sides yet slightly long on top and in front. He reminded me of a true military man with his handsome jaw and cheek bones, but I didn't dare tell him this. I appreciated that he was giving me some distance, but at the same moment, I wanted to be up in his face screaming.

When we piled up in the car, I took the passenger seat beside an already exhausted Adam. Nine sat in the backseat. As we pulled out of the dirt road drive way, I waved goodbye. I would forever be grateful for their gratitude, and I hoped they would be lucky enough to keep themselves out of the heat of the war. But yet, I couldn't help but notice the resilience in their eyes when they had first taken us in. They had done a service and duty to the morals they believed in, and they had put themselves at risk in order to do the right thing. If I believed in a god, I might have asked that He watch over them and protect them. Instead, I simply vowed that if anything ever happened to them, there would be hell to pay.

The boys tried to maintain small talk, but I didn't speak. Once we finally made it to the main road, the car was completely silent. I vowed not to be the one to start a conversation, and the boys seemed to have the same mentality.

Hours passed as we made our away through a few northern states on our way towards New York. Part of me was giddy about actually traveling the world and seeing all of these wonderful sights that I had never imagined. The change of the weather and humidity content was enough to excite me, let alone the other natural sights. The car veered ever so slightly out of our lane, and I reached over and corrected it quickly. Adam jerked his head up and widened his eyes.

"I'm good!" he blurted.

"Um, no, you're not," Nine said from the back. "Pull over, and I'll drive for a while."

Grudgingly, Adam did park the car on the side of a back road. I considered letting Adam sleep in my spot while I got in the back, but they had already played Musical Chairs before I had the chance to suggest the idea. Nine flashed me a small grin before he tugged his seat belt on. I looked away.

Before I knew it we were back on the road. Adam snored softly from the backseat only minutes later. We hadn't gone far before Nine tried to talk. My god, he was like an ADHD toddler sometimes...

"Madeleine, I know you're mad at me-"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Just - hear me out. I have a confession."

I looked over at him as I made an attempt to give him my best resting bitch face. "What?"

"I haven't been fully honest with you."

I started to make a sassy retort, but he kept going.

"A few weeks ago when I first met John, he broke me out of a Mogadorian holding cell where I had been held for over a year. I never said a word to them, not matter how badly they tortured me. When I was in that environment, I was pissed off but okay. When I left and was able to sleep without looking over my shoulder all the time, I began to..."

I watched him now, noticing how his knuckles were now white on the steering wheel and how his breath seemed shallower. "Began to what?"

"I've been having panic attacks," he said quietly as he checked his rear-view mirror to make sure Adam was asleep. "They come and go, and I've never had an episode as bad as last night."

"How are they triggered?" I asked.

"For me? If I stress before I sleep, I have nightmares. One in particular seems to set me off every time."

"How many have you had?" I turned in my seat.

"I've lost count."

I paused. "What... What's that dream about?"

Nine was clearly uncomfortable as he slid his hand through his short hair. He seemed unsure about it now, as if he had grown attached to the split ends and tangles he never bothered to brush. "Nothing good," he finally said. His voice cracked at the end.

If I had realized what I was doing before I did it, I might have stopped myself, but I reached out and took one of his hands into my own. He drove with his left hand as I held his right.

"You can tell me. I won't judge."

It took a little bit, but I finally convinced him to tell me. When he got started, I started to fear that he might slip into another panic attack, but thankfully, he managed to keep his composure as he told the story about him and his late girlfriend, Maddy. He was vague about it, but apparently he fell in love with her, and she was his first kiss. Then, she ratted him out to the Mogs and in the end, she and her parents were murdered by a Piken while Nine was forced to watch helplessly. It was the first time I ever saw him cry, and it broke my heart into pieces. They weren't sobs, but for some reason, the subtle tears seemed worse.

I was scared to say anything, so I just held his hand between both of my hands. He pulled it away a moment later and wiped the tears on his sleeve.

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to let you know I wasn't talking about you. I'm sorry," he said barely above a whisper.

"I forgive you," I said. That seemed to bring some relief to him, but the dark cloud of depression still hung on his shoulders. I made a mental note to see if, once the war was over, if he needed to see a psychiatrist for treatment. In that moment, he reminded me of my father - the little things setting him off. While Nine's involved memories, my father reacted to loud noises. He never fought in the Great War, but maybe... just maybe... both soldiers I knew might be sick.

We held each others hand until it was my turn to drive hours later, and I finished up by arriving in the state of New York. All of us, despite our infrequent naps, were exhausted. When i suggested stopping for the night, I could see the reluctance in Nine's eyes.

"We're all too tired to barge into Plum Island and look for them, let alone fight off swarms of Mogs," I said through a yawn as I pulled us into a slightly shady Motel. All I could imagine was the roaches under the bed and the rats in the closet, but according to Adam, it was cheaper than most. That was right up our alley.

"The others have been waiting almost a week-"

"I just- I have a gut feeling they're all right. Tomorrow, we'll wake up early and head to Plum Island and get them, okay?"

Adam nodded sleepily. "Agreed. Car rides make me too sleepy to function properly." By the way he fumbled along with the door handle, I was convinced.

Nine agreed finally, and Adam rented us one room to share. Each of us would stay up and take watch. He said this as if he was meaning Mogadorian or police tails, but we all knew another meaning for this: in case Nine had another attack. Nine took first shift, since he had just woken up from his nap, and sat in a broken office chair. I laid out some clothes beneath me so I wouldn't have to touch the dusty comforter and prayed that I wouldn't roll in my sleep.

Adam, however, didn't hesitate to throw back the covers and fold himself into the STD filled bed. No, no, no. Ew. No. He fell back asleep in seconds while I laid motionless yet restless.

The story Nine told me earlier kept running though my mind as I watched out the huge window. A few cars passed us by slowly, while a truck pulled into the motel's parking lot not long after we got settled. I remembered thinking it was odd, considering it was almost three in the morning. I shifted (barely).

"Nine?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you close the blinds?"

When he got up and began to close them, he, too, noticed the truck. He studied it for a moment before snapping them shut.

"It's a white Silverado," he said to me. "I'll keep an eye out on it. Get some sleep."

...

"POLICE!" the male voice boomed from outside our motel door. "Open up! We have you surrounded!"

I jerked awake suddenly. Nine was tossing things with his telekinesis in front of the door and windows - the nightstand, TV, Adam's bed, Adam, the desk, the chair. Then he ran over to us and began to pull us to our feet straight out of unconsciousness. I started to ask something, but he clamped his hand over my mouth firmly as he crouched, pulling us down with him. We watched in horror as a flashlight beam shined through the blinds.

"One more chance before we break this door down!"

Nine sent another bed flying towards the door, hitting it was a lovely bang. We heard policemen try to break it down to no avail. Nine moved his hand from my mouth as he watched. His face was like it was when we first met: cold, hard, and determined to kick some ass.

It was hot.

"How do we get out?" Adam whispered.

We paused as the banging continued. Finally glass broke as they threw a flash bomb through the window. My instincts kicked in as I sent a force-field around it, containing the explosion. The police outside seemed confused, but an idea suddenly hit me. I whispered it to Adam and Nine, who seemed to agree it was our only option out of here.

I jumped on Nine's back while Adam stood, prepared to deliver the first blow. I wondered why they weren't shooting us through the walls. The rogue Mog took a deep breath before letting out his battle cry, sending out a tremendous earthquake that brought down the front wall. Officers were thrown back and were incapacitated momentarily. Nine grabbed him around the waist as I caused an electric force field to expand around the three of us. Nine carried us as he sped out using his legacies, dashing past the cops and the SWAT team. Bullets ricocheted around us as we fled. Nine turned down the street and fled until we were out of eyesight.

"There's a chopper!" Adam called as he, too, clung to Nine. I was worried he wouldn't be able to hold both of us, but he never slowed up.

My head began to ache badly as I buried my eyes into shoulder. We weren't going to make it- There was no escape-

I looked up suddenly and shot my hand up and tried. I tried anything. My telekinesis kicked in and paused the helicopter's blades. My heart skipped a beat as it began to go down, spiraling around by its tail as it dove rapidly towards a shopping center parking lot. I tried to catch it, but the strain on my mind made me dizzy. I screamed as it landed and instantly caught on fire. Car alarms blared, and terrified public ran away.

"Holy shit!" Adam screamed. Nine took this opportunity to drop us quickly. My shield fell as I almost sunk to my knees, and if it wasn't for Adam, I would have. Nine broke the window to a Tahoe and quickly hot wired the bottom as if he had experience. I couldn't breathe as I watched. No one was crawling out of the helicopter.

I killed them.

I killed innocent people.

"Get in!" Nine yelled at us. Adam snatched open the back door and practically tossed me inside. The tires squealed as we pulled away.

I couldn't pull my eyes away from the wreckage until it was out of eyesight. I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried loudly.

Nine was sporadic as he ran red lights until he hit the interstate.

"How did that chopper go down!?" he snapped as he cut off a minivan.

In a choked voice, I whimpered, "I-I stalled the blades..."

He cursed quietly, again running his hands through his hair. Adam put his arm around me and held me as I cried, then tried to buckle me up.

"It's going to be okay," he said. "It's okay..."

But those people were dead. And it wasn't okay. I killed them...

I couldn't stop crying, but then again, I didn't try to until I accidentally fell asleep. Then, the fire was all I could see.