The world was different after that.
News stations poured over the Paris explosion and videos captured the crater that enveloped the Place de La Concorde. Hospitals and emergency rooms were overflowing with kids and other attendees of the massive rally. Cleanup teams were already swarming the area, and officials were reporting any signs of radiation, such as a lingering, unidentifiable gas. Military experts and bomb squads assessed the situation, confirming to the news teams that The Doomsday Group was behind all of it.
On top of that, Fang's gang and those bird kids were there.
Shots of helicopter cams captured a girl lifting massive chunks of asphalt to help trapped victims. Grainy video caught a kid with large headphones pushing kids out of the area minutes before the blast. A blonde girl and boy were carrying or aiding other kids to ambulances. Winged teens were caught flying above the debris, looking for survivors.
They were the highlight of the entire debacle, showing how the most unusual of forces could help. Reporters were applauding the bird kids for their aid, putting their two cents on the situation and encouraging others to donate to help rebuild the plaza. Supporters ranged from adults who were relieved to have their child back and alive from the blast, to clearly injured children who thanked their saviors endlessly for finding them. Most of the rally participants were young, which painted the Doomsday Group as a child-trafficking cult.
In the U.S., rallies screeched to a halt and any visible support for the group was hushed as quickly as possible. Everybody was astounded at the news in Paris, making schools close in some areas and parents hold their children closer. The few who were still adamant about the group were hated beyond all means; they were yelled at, physically fought against, and arrested for their overly joyous and creepy dedication.
The kids who were genetically different though, were nowhere to be seen.
Speck and I stayed as low as possible for a week until we got the long-awaited message from Fang about next steps. He said they were aiming for somewhere in Colorado, which I wasn't expecting because of Paris, and told us to meet in a mountainous location. I wanted to type back and ask why there, and why he's still willing to help but restrained myself. He had his reasons, and if there was some link there for him, I wasn't going to judge. The last thing I wanted was for us to get wrapped up in it.
I just wanted info on my brother. I just had to ask him where he was, direct me there, and we were gone. I didn't want to linger, especially with a group of people that size, but the idea of talking to somebody like me made me rethink my plan.
The only mutated people I've interacted with were Leon and Speck, and only Speck made it out. The others were mindlessly following a leader who wanted to wipe out the non-mutated ones. So, my social skills were pretty-limited. What would he say? What would he do? Would he try to weed information out of me? Would he treat me as different as I already am? Would he even try to help me?
So many thoughts went through my mind that week. I wanted to scream. Again, I was one step closer to meeting my family, and I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I was so anxious; I didn't know how to speak at times whenever the thought came up.
Speck, on the other hand, was more excited to meet the renowned Fang of Fang's Blog. I didn't want to damper her spirits, so I kept my mouth shut. That was the only thing brightening up her day now, since everything we worked for was basically gone. I was able to steal another laptop, but with Speck being mostly down, it was taking longer to set up firewalls and protection services. I had to let her do it at her own pace; she went through a lot.
We sat on the edge of a lake somewhere in the middle of Kansas, as we took frequent breaks in our flight over. The air was crisper than usual, and ice-cold winds kept hitting me when flying, so we got warmer clothes. I now had a two-layered jacket that could separate into two, thinner jackets. The first layer was just like my windbreaker but was a solid medium-gray color and very thin. The outer layer was a dark blue, almost black with fleece as its base. Speck kept her leather jacket and just got a long-sleeve shirt to wear under her green one. She was starting to complain about her feet hurting, and I was heavily debating on getting her new shoes.
She gingerly bent over her knees and unlaced her shoes a bit, quiet as I started a small fire. I made sure we were secluded enough before resting here, since a state park was nearby. Night began crawling over the sky, and our little fire was starting to bloom. Speck eagerly inched over.
I sat back and touched elbows with her as we watched the fire. The chilly night air began to settle around us, even though I could see the sun close in on the horizon. I could see an eagle of some sort flying in the direction of the sun, barely visible to normal-sighted people. The sky pinkened to a warm glow, and I heard distant crickets in the trees behind us. It felt serene, like we were in a painting.
A small smile rose on my face as I glanced over at Speck, who had large droplets in her eyes. "Speck? Speck, what's wrong?" my voice rose.
"N-Nothing," she rubbed her nose and looked away from me.
"Are-" I paused. "Are you sure?"
"I'm fine," she said in a flat tone, turning her body away.
I didn't respond but continued to watch her, ready to embrace her.
As the silence grew, so did our fire, its tendrils dancing and licking at the sand. Speck continued to simmer quietly, but my great hearing was catching her attempts in keeping her sobs back. I gingerly reached over, and she flinched away; a tear rolled down her speckled cheek.
"It's… it's okay to cry…" I said at almost a whisper.
She shook her head in response and buried her face in her knees.
My heart ached. She wasn't letting me hold her, hug her, like she usually let me do. What do I do? Do I say something? I gently cleared my throat, "I'm here… if you want to talk-"
"I can't-," she cut me off, her voice strained. But she couldn't finish, as if she was holding herself back.
My shoulders sagged, "It's okay, you can tell me."
"I-" her body shook.
"Speck?" I placed my hand on her shoulder when she suddenly looked up and screamed.
"I can't do it anymore! I can't! I want a normal life!" she shouted at the water while grabbing at her hair.
"Whoa, whoa- it's okay," I spoke over her as she instantaneously sobbed. Of all moments for her to cry and let it out, now was the time. She only cried out of fear and pain, at least from what I remember in our cages, but this was different. Reality was hitting her hard. "Speck-" I stretched to touch her shoulder but she thrust her arms out, pushing me away and standing. She walked towards the water and stopped at the edge. She held in her sobs as she stared out at the sky reflecting off the ripples, before her body shook again and her hands flew to her face. Tears spilled into them and dripped onto the sand.
"I d-don't… w-want… th-this," she blubbered as she slowly sank into a crouch, eventually bawling into her knees. I stared before cautiously walking towards her, prepared if she lashed out again.
"Hey…" I began, kneeling next to her and gently rubbing her back. She continued to weep, her chest heaving and in turn making my throat close-up. "You're okay, everything's going to be okay-"
"Okay?" she screeched. "Okay? It's never going to be okay! You always say that! You have always said that to me and no matter what we do we're never going to live normal lives! We can't live in a house, we can't go to school, we- we grew up in cages! I grew up to be a killer! We're never going to be okay!" She threw her head back to her knees as the waterfall fell once more.
My body froze at her words. She was right. I always said that. I always said we would be okay no matter what life threw at us, even though I knew we wouldn't be. I always said we would be fine, we could get through this, but… could we? No, we have to, we're going to. But she was desperate, grasping at the sand and trying to make sense of it all, since life threw us into a corner we couldn't get out. A corner she couldn't get out. We were stuck. We couldn't do anything.
She sniffled as I began digging through her bag by the fire. "What're you-" she hiccupped as I pushed some newspaper and her school sharpie into her hands.
"Write," I commanded, and she looked up at me with wet eyes. Her stringy hair fell to the side, revealing how innocent she was, or, at least how she should be. I could feel her pain, her dejected and aching heart radiating off her; I swallowed to keep my voice from wavering.
I pointed to the paper and said it again, "Write. Write down everything that hurts right now. Everything you hate. Everything."
I gently squeezed her hand and she sniffed, staring at the paper and glimpsing at the Doomsday Group headlines. Pictures of the Paris explosion were dotted everywhere, along with varying degrees of rallies being shut down all over the US. The words describing the group was heinous, revolting more so as we lived through it. She lived through it.
She sniffed again before popping off the pen's cap and underlined the headline harshly. She paused before writing out "mutations." I briefly closed my eyes, remembering the first time I met her in the cages. She was so small, so helpless, and all I could provide was my palm for her to sleep on. She used to poke at each dot on her skin, sometimes tracing her finger between them like a game. She cowered every time they took her for testing and cried every time she returned.
She added more as she scrawled across the paper. I watched as she wrote out everything, reminiscing on each one.
"ITex."
I don't think I'll ever forget my fake parents' faces. I could remember everything now, and I wish I didn't. I could remember the trips we took, the times we moved, and everything in between. It hurt, because I knew it was all for nothing. They had no real, loving intention until our last few years together. I still couldn't fathom how low ITex would go to do that to me - how they could do that to me. I thought I had real parents, but I was just another experiment. Nothing else.
"Erasers."
Jacob's face flashed in my mind and I cringed. I really hoped he was dead along with the other retired Erasers, but a part of me wished he was still alive. No, I can't think like that. When was the last time I even thought of him? He deceived me, made me believe I liked him and threw me into a cage. I let out a shaky breath. He was just a pawn, another person in their sick, nasty game. I wished he was dead, because if he wasn't, I would kill him myself.
The more she scribbled, the more the words blended. They pooled and smudged the paper as her tears fell onto them. She kept flipping pages, ripping them in the process as she added more large, muddled text. She continued despite her shaky hands, up until her crying overcame her. The pen fell out of her hands as she gripped her hair again, the paper falling to her feet.
"I h-hate this," she repeated it under her breath. I waited until she opened her eyes, and I took the paper and walked to the fire.
"W-Wait- what are you doing?" her eyes flashed when I set a corner of the paper to the flame until it caught. She searched my face, trying to understand but I said nothing as I walked back over, holding one end as the fire began consuming it.
She looked at the paper, at her words, as the fire crawled over them. It ate away the "E" on "Erasers" before quickly taking the rest of it. "ITex" dissolved quickly, along with the Doomsday Group headlines. The pictures and articles were nothing to the flame, turning black and crumbling to the ground. I set the remainder of it on the ground as the fire rose, eager to finish it off.
Every large letter disappeared quickly, but the more the paper burned, the less fuel there was to the flame. It finally reached "mutations," but the flame decreased so much it struggled to finish its meal. She sniffed as the last of the embers slowly ate it away, adding to the small pile of ash below it. A chilly gust caused the trees to shiver, catching the ash and dispersing it into the lake. I watched as the black flecks settled on the glowing water before slowly dissolving and joining the depths.
I blinked as she slowly moved my hand to mine. Glancing down, she also watched the water, her other hand holding the pen. Her fist was tight, as if she had a newfound power in her hands. Her hand hugged mine and I deflated into a soft sigh. I turned my head to look at the lake, joining her as we watched the sun shimmer on the surface.
I'm not sure how long we marveled, but we ended up laying down while the sun dipped below the horizon. The yellow glow made our shadows look like statues, and the last remaining rays twinkled on the water's surface. Speck played with the sand between her fingers, her attention somewhere else. I finally pulled myself up to a sitting position and stared at the water, "We're never going to be normal."
I thought she didn't hear me until she mumbled, "I know."
"But you know what?"
She turned her head to look at me, her scales glistening.
"Nobody's perfect," I gently smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Mutated or not, nobody is perfect."
She smiled as well before closing her eyes briefly and sitting up with me, "But this view is."
And she was right. The sun was barely visible below the horizon, leaving a breathtaking view that could only be found in an art museum. Only a few wisps of clouds hung in the air, their underbellies a pinkish-red as the night sky enveloped around them. That same hawk from before circled back, now riding thermals above the water, which now settled to a minimal ripple. The trees stretched forward from behind us just enough to encase the moment perfectly into a frame.
Their plane touched down in New York, far away from where they wanted to be, but at least they were back in the states. Fang hurried his gang out of the plane and onto the tarmac where Nino Pierpoint stood with a wide smile.
"You kids did a great job," he nodded towards Fang as Holden clambered down the steps unsuccessfully. Kate caught him before he face-planted while Star struggled to wake up. Ratchet stared around, making sure nothing would surprise them.
"Thanks," Fang replied, grim-faced and wanting to just forget what happened. He felt Maya brush his arm and felt a wave of warmth spread through his body. Her familiar energy clung to him as he pushed down his feelings. He glanced back at the group, "Come on guys, let's head out."
"But we just landed," Star complained. "Can't we get some grub?"
"You did eat the entire cabin storage," Holden pushed up his glasses.
Star shot him a look and Kate smirked.
"Where are we headed?" Ratchet asked quizzically.
"Colorado, we have to meet up with Amber and Speck," Fang stated. Both Star and Kate rose an eyebrow, and Maya went quiet for a moment. It seemed like whenever he brought them up, the girls here seemed iffy about it. Fang dismissed the thought; he wasn't going to get caught up in their drama. But if they get too heated about it, then he'll step in.
"That's like, the other side of the country," Star narrowed her eyes before sending a hopeful glance towards Nino. "We're flying there, right?"
"Not-" but Fang was cut off.
"Driving is too long, that's at least a four-day drive," Kate quickly added.
Fang ran a hand through his hair, "Well, true, but we have to-"
"Four days?" Holden blinked, already on board with them.
"Yes, but-"
"We should've just stayed on the plane," Star whined.
"Let's just fly," Kate nodded.
"Hold up!" Maya jumped in, and Fang inwardly sighed in relief. If he couldn't corral them, she could. "I know you guys want to just get there and get it over with, but you're not letting Fang say why we stopped here. If he wanted to, we would be there by now. And since we aren't, let him say why." That leader voice he always knew came through to shush the flock, in this case the gang, and to get them to listen. All four of them instantly quietened and looked over at Fang.
"Right," he nodded towards her for the help. "We stopped here to get more info on the DGers. What happened in Paris was just a piece to the puzzle, and I found something here that might tie back to them." He pulled his laptop from his bag and pulled up the DGers' site. The gang crowded around him to look.
What showed was a blank page with simple blue text reading, "Site Removed due to Suspicious Activity." Fang then clicked on another tab which highlighted the news reel of Paris. He scrolled down to point out a comment at the bottom. It read, "We are not done. Be prepared." A cluster of numbers sat right next to them.
"Those are coordinates, and they connect to a place here in New York. We can stop them before it gets worse," he studied their faces, and each of them were pretty dumbstruck at the evidence. Star and Kate took a brief glance at each other while Holden and Ratchet seemed to close in on themselves. The one thing they thought they were done with was back with a vengeance, and Fang couldn't blame them. But if he could stop these radicals, he could avenge Angel. She deserved that.
"Fine," Star huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I'm still starving."
"We can hit up a place on our way there," Fang answered her.
"Are we going to have to fight again?" Holden queried, nervous if he had to pull his starfish act once more.
"Not if we're careful," Maya assured him. Holden didn't look convinced, but he nodded his head anyways.
"Are you sure this is smart?" Ratchet questioned Fang, his demeanor stiff and unchanging. "We might be walking right into a trap. Who would post that kind of sh-" he stopped himself. "Stuff online?"
"If it's a trap, then it's a trap. We'll be ready," he nodded towards Maya who reciprocated it. "We'll go first, since we can fly out of there if things get weird."
"Wait, where is this place?" Ratchet's voice uncharacteristically rose.
"Roosevelt Island," Fang swallowed. "It's an abandoned hospital."