Neither of them could sleep. Not that she wanted to anyway. Not just because of the fact that if she went to sleep that she could be asleep forever, but because of the simple fact that she wasn't even that tired. She just didn't want to.
Indeed, Rachel Bradshaw wasn't as heavily distraught as she had been, and while she'd still get lost in her own regretful thoughts from time to time it wasn't as bad as before. But if anything, after talking to Kiri for a little bit, letting her feelings vent a little, she did feel better. It also helped that Kiri was a good listener as well.
Fiddling with the cross around her neck, Rachel thought of her current situation and of how people, because of the turmoil that had been taking place for over a decade, told her that her faith was nothing more than a fool's thought. They told her that God was dead, and didn't care about what happened on earth anymore than how a psychopath cares about others.
They asked her how she could believe in God and all his love when the country was going to shit and things were only getting worse? With the Greenfield massacre marking the beginning of a new era, to the rebellious youth movement that seemed nigh unstoppable, to the economic downfall, to the creation of the Y.R.A, to the government allowing The Program to take place. How could she believe that an all loving being with so much power could just allow it to happen? To be so unforgiving.
Thing was though, was that while Rachel believed in God, heaven, hell, and all that stuff, she didn't expect him to come down and rain divine justice for every sinful act, nor did she expect him to fix everyone's problems just because they prayed to him every night and believed.
No. She believed that he allowed humans to have free will so that everyone could decide their own fate. For it didn't matter if you were born a certain way or in a certain lifestyle, you could become anything, and it was up to you to break through the obstacles in your way. Sure it could seem impossible for some to achieve their dream, what they did accomplish when they at least tried to do it wasn't a waste of time or effort. What they learned could be placed to good use somewhere else.
And while something big probably wouldn't happen in a single lifetime, like the civil rights movements for the coloured people all those years back, but if you wanted something for the future, you did something to make the gears start to get motion.
Just the actions of one person could make a difference years, or even decades or centuries before it became a reality. They could inspire people, start a movement, a revolution for a better future.
But in this day and age, people were narrow sighed, impatient, selfish, wanting things right then and there when it was impossible. Like those riots against the government conducted by those Anti-Y.R.A activists. The Y.R.A wouldn't end that day, or even the next, no matter how many cops or politicians they killed that day. If anything, they just made things worse in her opinion.
That's why she went for the more peaceful ways. Helping the less fortunate by giving out food and shelter at a food bank and stuff. 'Changing the world, one full stomach at a time' one of the priests had told her. Slow, and probably wouldn't change much in a day or a week by the looks of ordinary eyes, but if you looked down deeper, it made people less likely to go out and rob someone for money or food. It made the community a little more safe, however small it was.
She didn't know if Brad had seen the world that way, but when he rescued those puppies that were being abandoned in the desert, he was giving someone else a little bit of joy in their life. And a friend that wouldn't betray you.
Probably save a life to, as she had seen service dogs help war vets, those with epilepsy, and those with bipolar disorder. Brad probably just saw himself saving the dogs, and wanted to give them a good home. Maybe he wanted to make people happy as well.
It was the little things in life that counted, really.
Things happen for a reason. Rachel thought as she continued to rub her fingers across the smooth surface of steel and silver. So why are Brad and I in The Program? Why is someone like Kiri in here as well? If she were smart she'd have abandoned me and look after herself. Left me in that church instead of having to babysit me. Really, why are we all in The Program? Why was Toph and Hannah chosen as well? I mean, as annoying as he was, Toph might have been able to do some good in the world, but he's dead now.
Knowing that she didn't have the mental capacity to know how the universe operated like it did, Rachel just stopped thinking about it and turned her gaze towards Kiri. Having had her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could make out the smaller girl's figure close to her. Not many people would have done what she did. Rachel thought. Trying to save me from myself. And though she did still feel bad, she was at least able to function again. Rachel was grateful that Kiri had made her come. And what Kiri had said was true. Would Brad have wanted her to stay in that church with his corpse, crying for the rest of the game until she found someone that would kill her? No he wouldn't.
For the first time in hours, Rachel cracked a smile smile. Great. She's infected me with her kind spirit. I'm not thinking about finding a way to die. And... Well... Maybe she's the reason I'm here in the first place. Because if it weren't for her, I'd have stayed in that church until I died, with or without Brad dying. But... What am I to Kiri?
Rachel didn't get to think about it too much before she heard the sound of someone trying to open the front door.
Rachel suddenly stopped playing with her cross and snapped her head up. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Kiri had done the same, and was holding the MP five submachine gun at the ready.
"What was that?" Kiri said more than asked, as it was obvious what it was. The sound of the doorknob continued to turn and turn, but it wouldn't open. Rachel thanked Kiri for locking the doors and pulling the curtains around the windows closed so that they'd be a little bit safer in the house.
The sound of the door knob turning stopped before silence engulfed the two girls again. The only sound Rachel could hear was her own heartbeat, which was pounding against her chest as she had been sure that the intruder would have tried to bust down the door.
Hours seemed to pass before the two girls let out a sigh or relief, only for the back door to start acting up. Both girls let out tiny gasps before Kiri turned the weapon towards the now violated back door. Whoever was outside was being rougher with the back door than they had been with the front before they left that as well.
Now Rachel was on edge as she didn't know what was going to happen next.
Her answer came seconds later when a kitchen window began to crack. Both girls gasped again and looked towards where the sound was coming from. Whoever was at the window struck the glass again and again, the sound of glass cracking become more and more crackling before it finally shattered.
Rachel was then sure that she had seen someone start to climb through the window.
"It's climbing in!" Rachel screamed out before Kiri opened fire on the window. Bullets tore through the air and scattered as they exited the gun barrel. Rachel heard bullets hit the wall, cupboards, and the sink. She was also sure she heard someone give out a surprised gasp for an instant only.
And then, there was nothing besides the ringing in their ears and their heavy breathing. And that, was somehow more frightening than the sounds of the recent home invasion. "Did you get it?" Rachel asked nervously.
"I'm not sure." Kiri answered, even more nervously than the older girl.
Both girls looked at each other, and like they read each others minds, they slowly advanced towards where they had seen the shadowy figure. Scared that it was just playing possum, Kiri had the weapon trained on the figure.
They heard nothing but their breathing, their footsteps, and their hearts hammering in their chests as they approached the kitchen. They got to the window and saw that something was slumped halfway through the window, like the darkness outside had decided to stick it's tongue through the window.
Rachel, who was holding a lighter that Kiri had found inside the house due to Kiri having no other pockets than the loose ones on her sweatshirt, pulled it from her jeans and lit it up. What the girls saw in the weak light was a girl, more than half her body still covered in shadows, with blue hair and purple bangs with a bloody face. Her right eye was replaced with a gaping hole with sickly yellow liquid dripping out of it and onto the counter. A hole in the back of her skull expelled brain matter onto the curtains. The girl's face was in a look of permanent bewilderment.
The sight was bad enough for the girls, even if they had seen death just hours ago, that they both let out a scream. Rachel dropped the lighter and Kiri, knowing that she was the cause of it, just barely made it to the sink to vomit her guts out.
Some time had passed, and Marcos Sánchez had mostly recovered from his fight with the enforcer chick. He felt good enough to fight. And with freedom so close he could taste it, he got his entire arsenal ready for battle, triple checking to see that his handgun magazines were topped up as much as they could be and making sure a round was in the chamber and the sawed off shotgun had two fresh shells inside.
For the past little while, Marcos had been sharpening the kitchen knife with a rock he had found outside the store. While it wasn't razor sharp, it was more than lethal enough to kill.
He adjusted the tactical vest to make sure that it was comfortable and everything was in it's place.
He then did a quick prayer to La Santa Muerte for good luck before he dawned the black ballistic mask walked towards where the sound of gunfire had occurred with a purpose. Like a cartel hitman, ready to take out those that stood in the way of him and the completion his sacred mission.
Mary Grace King, though she was scared of getting shot, knew that if there were people fighting each other with gunfire, there was a great chance that more or more of the combatants would get injured, and at least one of them would end up dead. And while she didn't have a gun herself she did have a hockey stick. And while that wasn't impressive at first glace, she could get a gun from the fallen. Or maybe they'd run out of ammo and she could use her strength to overpower them.
Either way, she was going to go to where the gunfire had erupted, hide for a while, and take out a poor fucker when they least expected it. From there, she'd find a way to make it home.
A/N: The next chapter might be long as it'll be the final chapter within The Program. After that will be a couple of chapters or so with the winner dealing with their victory.