A/N: Sorry it took me so long to upload this….
Faintly, Olexa could hear voices. They were not familiar to her. One was harsh and grating, almost a growl. Another was female, soft and husky, and still a third was an angry shrill. Another voice, the deepest, had a sharp edge but was not as gruff as the others. Olexa heard the voices, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. Think, she ordered herself. Makes the voices clear.
She opened her eyes. She could not see any more clearly than she could hear. She heard a voice calling something, and it took her a few moments to realize that the voice was her own.
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"Olexa?"
Olexa opened her eyes and shrank back from the interested face leaning in toward her. "Yeah?" she murmured groggily. She could see and hear better now than she had been able to the last time she could remember anything.
A woman's face was near her own, looking into her eyes. "Your vision seems to be better. Can you see clearly?" she asked. She had red, shoulder-length hair in dreds. Her eyes were a deep emerald green, and her skin was the color of ivory. "We thought there was a chance you'd be permanently blinded from it."
"Who are you – and what was that light?" Olexa didn't wait for the woman to answer; she was busily peering around the room.
She lay on a soft bed with crisp white sheets and pale blue blankets. The room she was in seemed to be some type of infimiry.
"I'm Ashelin," the woman told Olexa. "I'm the Governor of Haven City – what's left of it, anyway. I'm also the head of the Freedom League." She cleared her throat. "That light you ran into was a shield we put up. We have been busy using the Upper Agricultural District for a project, and we needed a shield." She shrugged apologetically. "You and your friends… ran into it."
Olexa's blood ran cold at the tone of the woman's voice. "…where are the others?" she asked hoarsely.
Ashelin sighed. "They're… well… some are dead… Sharlot, Willem, Laurelee, and Taj survived, as did Liam… but the others were weaker… they surrendered to the Light, I guess. Your friend Anya survived, but the cut on her leg is badly infected." Ashelin didn't say what this meant; there was no need. Olexa knew. She felt slightly faint and she sank back onto her pillows.
This wasn't happening, couldn't be happening. Marisol, Jewelle, Jeneta, and Shayne, dead? "No, don't give me more death," she murmured. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Ashelin was gone.
"Who's Muriel?"
The voice startled her, and she spun around in a half-sitting position, looking for whoever had spoken.
It was a boy, of about sixteen or so. He sat on the far side of the room with a thick tome in his lap. He didn't appear to be reading the volume, however. On the contrary, he was staring intently at Olexa. "What did you say?" Olexa asked. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks at the pitiful squeak that was her voice – she sounded so tired!
"I said, 'Who's Muriel?'" he repeated, still looking at her intently.
Olexa stiffened at the sound of Muriel's name. "I believe the real question is: Who are you?" she said coldly.
"Sorry." He smiled good-naturedly. "I'm Alec. I work here… sort of." He leaned against the back of his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. "I'm the Shadow's apprentice." He grimaced. "Though he does little more than hand me books."
Olexa didn't ask who the Shadow was. She didn't care. She turned away to face the door, shoving her fingers against her closed eyes and thinking I am numb I am numb. She did not cry, even when Alec persisted. "Who is Muriel?"
She turned toward him, angry now. "What do you know of Muriel?"
"Hey… I didn't mean to upset you," he said in a softer voice. "It's just, when you were asleep, all the time you were calling for someone named Muriel. I wondered who it was."
Olexa closed her eyes. "She was my sister," she said in a small voice.
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"What the hell is this?"
It was Muriel; Olexa knew without looking. Olexa pushed Lewis away from her. Muriel stood in the doorway of the staircase, looking in horror at her boyfriend Lewis locked in a passionate embrace with Olexa.
Olexa's lips were swollen from heavy kissing, her face flushed, her long hair loose and flowing from the cap she usually wore.
"I'm out," Lewis muttered. He zipped up his pants and swung himself over the side of the building, landing gracefully on the balcony below.
"Hi, Muriel," Olexa muttered, turning away from her sister and re-fastening the buttons on her ragged homespun shirt. She turned back to Muriel, shame creeping over her. Muriel's face was red with crying, and her eyes were filled with utter loathing.
"You little whore!" Muriel screamed. "You fucking bitch!" She lunged for Olexa, a crazed look in her eyes. There wasn't even time to scream – Olexa moved out of the way, and Muriel went tumbling over the side of the building to the street below.
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Muriel's face was obscured by some of her long black hair. A stream of blood ran down the dusty street from the lifeless body. Snow had begun to fall, and the white powder gathered on Muriel's clothes. Olexa couldn't look away, but nor could she cry.
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Olexa realized she was sobbing, nearly screaming, and so hysterical, screaming so she couldn't hear her thoughts anymore, screaming her throat raw. Voices spoke again, blurs passing in and out of the room. Someone was holding her tightly. The person didn't let go, even though Olexa kicked and fought. She was held, until she gave up, surrendered…
… and still she was held.
Alec was there when she awoke. She glared at him, angry that he had been there while she slept, seeing her as vulnerable as she could be. He had a black eye now, she noticed. "Hello," Alec greeted her.
She mumbled a "hi" and gave him the finger.
"No need for that," he said. "You've done enough already." He pointed to his black eye.
"I did that?" she said in disbelief.
He nodded.
"Sorry," she mumbled. It was true – she was sorry.
He smiled. "It's okay. You were hysterical. It's a good thing for both of us that I'm a lot stronger than you."
She remembered.
"That was you?" she stammered. "The whole time?"
She remembered…
… giving up, collapsing and just crying, and someone there for her for the first time in her life, someone to keep her safe… and she had felt safe, and she had fallen asleep….
Now she blushed in complete humiliation. "Please go away," she murmured. She had meant for it to come out as a command, but it sounded more like a desperate plea.
To her surprise, Alec nodded. "Ashelin will be back later; she wants to talk to you again." He stood and turned to leave, then turned to a small box on the table. "If you feel well enough to get up, there's an outfit in there that should fit you."
Still embarrassed, she murmured her thanks without meeting his gaze.
The moment the door swung shut, she sat bolt upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She had a pounding headache, but other than that she felt just fine.
The clothing in the box consisted of boy's clothing: brown and tan shirt and tunic, brown pants, sturdy boots. Olexa put it on. It was sturdy and obviously made for comfort as opposed to style. She combed her tangled hair as best she could and arranged it in a tight bun the way she had learned to do when there was no hair tie available.
She folded the rough shift she had been wearing –had put it on her? – and placed in neatly at the end of the bed. She made the bed and sat down in the chair that faced out of the window.
The view wasn't much. It looked out onto the Port, a Port that was pretty much the same as she had known in her days in Haven City. There were fewer people now, and fewer vehicles to cram the airways. She didn't see any Krimzon Guard patrols. There were men in blue patrolling. This must, perhaps, be the Freedom League that Ashelin had spoken of.
The door behind her opened. Olexa jumped as Ashelin entered the room, followed by a dark-haired, tattooed man.
Ashelin looked considerably happier than she had earlier in the day. The man, now standing next to her, looked grim. She motioned to the man. "This is Torn, my Commander. He needs to ask you a few questions." Without another word, Ashelin left, leaving Olexa alone with Torn.
The questions were basic at first: her name and age, the names and ages of the children in her care, her parents' names and occupation, her former address. Soon he asked more questions, though, ones she would rather leave unanswered. He asked her the story of the family she and Liam headed.
"I met Liam in the streets," she began. "He was starving. I was doing okay myself; I stole, and sometimes did a little… work…" Olexa hoped he didn't know what type of "work" she meant. Even when the city is in peril, there are still dregs who want to get it up.
"I taught him how to steal, and for a while we managed to avoid the Metal Heads. Eventually, though, we had to go into the sewers. Liam rigged up some sort of surveillance – I don't quite get it, but he's good at that type of thing – and we could just go and hide whenever we saw Metal Heads coming.
"One day we saw a group of people in the tunnels, coming toward us. It was a group of ten people: Arya, Laurelee, Willem, Marisol, Jewell, Jeneta, Shayne, Sharlot, and Jordanne. Jordanne was twenty-four, and for a while she was in charge. She got sick, and she died." Olexa felt nothing but indifference. "She didn't like Liam and me very much. I think she thought of us as competition.
"We found a big cache of KG rations – enough food for months, and water too. We kept watch on the surface. When we were sure the Metal Heads were gone, we went topside, and found… your 'light.'" Olexa felt hatred for the light now. She was used to the darkness, safe and small, a blanket around her, where she didn't have to see what she didn't want to see. Light had tainted her life and the lives of her friends – the ones, that is, that had survived the encounter.
Light is my darkness, she thought numbly.
"My turn for the questions," she said briskly. "Where the hell am I, and what do you want from me?"
"We don't want anything from you," he said mildly – as mild as he could sound with his grating, hoarse voice. "This is a makeshift hospital about the Naughty Ottsel, a bar in South Town." Olexa had never heard of the Naughty Ottsel.
"When can I leave?" she asked the man bluntly. She dislike being here, feeling as though she depended on something.
He raised his eyebrows. "Where will you go?"
"That's none of your business," she said coldly. "I want to leave, and I want to take the others with me."
Torn shook his head. "We can't let you do that. You're of age – you can come and go as you please. But your friends, they're just kids, and you're not their guardian."
Olexa glared at him fiercely. "I am their guardian – they had no other!"
Again he shook his head. "If you want to go, you may," he said. "But the children stay."
I'll get them, Olexa promised silently.
She turned and walked out of the room.
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No one stopped her as she walked out into the pounding rain. She was a little surprised; she had thought that perhaps someone, anyone, might object.
She was soon soaked through her clothes, wandering around. The area was different and unfamiliar now. There were no entrances into the ruins. She didn't have anywhere to go. Her head pounded and she was so hungry… she could've at least grabbed some food before she left… why had she left?
…regret seeped into her blood, turning every part of her thick and hot with anger at herself. The others, the children, they were her family. How dare they just take her family away from her?
Someone was calling her name, and she remembered another time, another day, another voice, calling her name. It was Lewis…no, she refused to remember.
…she fell, and Alec was there… where did he come from?
…no…