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Chapter 22
The sound of iron shackles clanging against one another and footsteps, echoed through the hallways as we hung our heads; we had just cut through a crowd of Hawks. I had held my breath as Peter held onto the chain that connected all of our shackles like a leash.
No one noticed, no one noticed, it's okay; stay in character, the voice said in a cajoling way.
Peter's plan had been fairly simple; instead of sneaking around, why not go out in front of everyone? He was leading us out in a line, bounded by shackles on our wrists, telling anyone who questioned that he was transporting us to a different cell.
We hung our heads in shame as other Hawks snickered at our expense. Or at least, that was the act.
"Pick it up, scum!" Peter shouted from the front, yanking the chain forward. That meant "hurry up people are getting suspicious".
We walked faster, trying to get into a less populated area.
We had been winding through corridors, some wide some narrow; weaving through crowds of Hawks, and passing by one or two at a time. Our destination was the outer rims, where we would lose the shackles and use Peter's and Edward's assumed higher rank to force the rookies to let us through.
Things had been going well until we reached the biggest room, filled with the most Hawks; we had more of a chance of being overthrown at that point. I saw Edward stiffen protectively in front of me.
Peter had told us, if we were called out, we had to run; I could do that now. Alice helped me as I had ripped off the bottom half of the skirt of my dress. It wouldn't look too suspicious, we concluded.
The prospect of possibly getting out alive was so invigorating, I sometimes forgot that we still weren't out of the woods.
I stared at my feet as the Hawks made a path for us. They did it hesitantly— suspiciously. They're gazes were measured, reading us; that made us even more nervous.
"Come on, vermin." Peter said a little too quickly and yanked the chain too desperately for it to look like innocent spitting upon. That meant "hurry up, but looked tormented doing it".
We could see the doorway now, leading to an empty hallway; we all started power walking toward it, breaking character a little.
A huge, bear-like Hawk stood in the doorway, and others started surrounding us. The man was fearful and powerful looking with his muscles and tattoos.
"Where are you going with those prisoners?" He asked in a deep, menacing way; his eyes probing each and every one of us.
"Transporting them to the torture chamber, sir." Oh no; he had said 'sir'. Peter was ranked under this man, and we were at his mercy.
"That's not your place." He growled, snatching the chain Peter held. "Who authorized their transportation?" He questioned, his face coming within inches of Peter's.
Peter's eyes widened, his hand raised up slowly, unseen by the man.
He was ready to yank the chain hanging that would release us all at once. He was about to push the man aside so we could get a head start. It was all in vain though. We weren't going to make it.
I spread my legs, waiting to take off running for the dark corridor; blood pulsed through my veins like a speeding river, and adrenaline pumped—
A deafening siren screeched through the room, interrupting our mangling.
Mystically, the attention was snapped away from us and toward the siren. The man let go of the chain, and followed by the other Hawks, ran through a side door screaming at his troops.
The Hawks had just…left us alone.
All of our eyes widened and our jaws dropped at the now empty doorway; we were alone in the room. What had just happened? My eyes whipped to Edward's looking for answers. What could have possibly been so important that they would forget about us completely in a split second?
Edward's face was a mix of relief, shock, and slight horror.
"Edward, what's going on?" I asked, my eyes going between he and Peter, who seemed to know exactly what was happening.
He slowly turned his head toward me, and our eyes met. It seemed to take him a few seconds to find his voice, but he finally did.
"The headquarters is under attack." He uttered, quietly.
"Who would attack this place?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing together; who would possibly be strong enough (or insane enough) to try and attack the Volturi headquarters?
Peter and Edward exchanged a glance, and Edward answered. "I don't know. It buys us some time, but not a lot of it. No matter what's attacking, it won't take long to take out whoever is dumb enough to mount an attack on the headquarters."
"But," Alice popped up. "That means that all the Hawks will be at the perimeter, we won't be able to sneak through!" The truth of her words simmered amongst us, and Peter let out a groan of frustration.
"Well who knows when we will have an opportunity like this again? There must be some useful way to embrace this time!" Peter snarled in aggravation, starting to pace.
There were sounds of cannon fire outside, screams of terror, and things falling over; the clashing of steel, boulders, and flesh. And suddenly, what frightened me the most, a shower of loud pops; I covered my ears. What was this? What could have made those sounds?
"Edward, what is that?" I shouted; his face was bone white and he stared unseeingly through the blackened door.
"Guns." He murmured, still staring. "They don't use those unless they're absolutely desperate." He seemed completely shocked that they would use those. What could make them so desperate to need to use these…these guns?
"What are those? Why haven't we ever heard of them?" Alice yelled, covering her ears as well.
Peter yelled over the sound of the guns outside. "Guns are very, very deadly, they use them as a last resort because the last thing they want is to give that kind of firepower to public; use of guns would give the Resistance the strength to rebel."
"There's a resistance?" I screeched. "How are you sure?"
"We aren't," Edward replied/screamed back. "We just always have to assume that there is one."
Hundreds of footsteps that sounded like an earthquake reverberated off the tall walls like they were coming closer to the door that which the Hawks had entered. Whether it was the attackers or the Hawks returning, we didn't want to be here. We all exchanged a look, a silent message passed over us. No matter who came through that way, the last thing we wanted was to be here to find out.
We all ran for the original doorway we were heading for, on the wall next to the wall that held the approaching army; the darkness swallowed us, but we never slowed down. Peter let out our shackles down in mid-run, and we took off.
Screams sounded in the room we had just been in, screams of death.
We all sped up our escape. The stupid shoes the wives put me in prevented me from going too fast. Edward seemed to realize this. His hand wrapped around my forearm and dragged me at his frighteningly fast pace. While I was trying to keep up with him, I was ripping off my shoes, which was harder than it sounded. I was blindly fumbling around, trying to get the straps off.
After about five seconds of this, he just picked me up and carried me, but I only allowed it long enough for me to get my shoes off. When they were off, I threw them behind us and jumped down, still barely able to keep pace. I shivered as the cold stones hit my feet, the jags in the rocks scraped at my skin; eventually, my feet were going to be too cut to run anymore. I prayed we would get off these rocks soon and run on something smoother.
A small, teeny, tiny, needle point of light appeared in my vision, and got bigger. Grasping Edward's hand, we ran straight for it. Peter urged for Alice to go faster, for she hadn't spent days in the forest, going nonstop like I had, building up strength.
Surprisingly, Jasper was the one to help her, to coax her along. I passively wondered what that was about.
The light came up on us, and we burst through the door—
— And ended up in the worst place conceivable.
Every single member of the Core was there, alone, with no Hawks to guard them in that huge room. But something was different. Aro wasn't his usual calm, collected self as I had sensed; he no longer had the silent deadliness in his stare. His eyes were wild and held a certain anxiety that chilled me to the bone.
"You." He snarled, and pointed to us— wait no, not us; me. "You brought this upon us!" He screamed, at me. Everyone except Edward stepped away from me an inch. Edward took a step closer to me, moving his arm protectively in front of me, as if he could do anything about Aro's wrath.
"What?" I shrieked at him, not bothering with the respect thing anymore; what did I do? Besides break his rules? I was just a bug, dealt with quite simply.
"You did this." He pointed at me once more, Edward shifted uncomfortably, obviously as confused as I was. The other members of the Volturi stood strong and dangerous behind him, livid.
"She didn't do anything," Edward shouted back at him. "You brought this…whatever this is on yourselves." He was standing completely in front of me now, blocking me from his sight.
"She did this." He murmured to himself.
He had lost it; his mind was gone. He started trembling and he clawed at his already thinning hair. The thought of his perfect world in the Core was being violated and he couldn't take it. But how could he think I did this?
Suddenly, a crowd of troops broke through the doorway we had come in. Thinking we were going to be taken away, I clutched onto Edward and shut my eyes.
In spite of my fears, they went around us as if we were merely a rock in the middle of a rushing river. And they weren't Hawks either.
They were men; just plain men from the villages ran in with pitchforks, torches, and something unfamiliar. Someone shot it off, and I recognized them as guns. They were make-shift and homemade, but still guns. It wasn't just an attack; it was something much bigger.
A familiar face— or a few familiar faces— popped up, and appeared to be leading the crowd. I gasped.
"Jacob!" I shouted, frantic for him to hear me; his head whipped up, and he smiled a regarding smile to me. He nodded to me and shouted something to the men, telling them to go around. I saw it now. He was their leader.
It all fell into place. I had caused this. Just, unintentionally.
My crossing The Wall had started something much bigger than me, and going out and exposing myself to the group of boys had started the clock on a time bomb. I had thrown a stone that turned into a ripple to a tidal wave.
I had started The Rebellion.
After the troops rushed in, a horde of Hawks had come in after; they, however, didn't run around us like the others. They ran straight for us. Edward grabbed my hand and all five of us ran onto our side of the battle. Already, we were a part of The Rebellion.
Somehow in the crowd of people fighting, Edward and I got ripped apart. I twisted anxiously, looking for him in the crowd, and coming up empty.
Horror overtook me; no! I anxiously searched for him, but he was lost in the crowd. I turned and ran, trying to escape the battle that had broken out.
For the third time, I slammed into something. Big.
This room was special. That was why the Volturi collected here; one of the walls was The Wall itself. They had built this room up against The Wall. I knew this because the pattern was the same I'd seen all my life, and was different from the other walls of the giant room.
I whipped around searching for Edward, or Alice, or Peter, or someone. But all I could see was the clashing of swords and hear the sound of gun fire. But there was lots of blood— lots and lots of it. Screams of pain, blood curdling screams; I clasped my hands over my ears, wanting to disappear into a bubble. Without the bloodshed. But I couldn't block out the sounds of death.
I placed my hands on The Wall and traveled along it; trying to find where the other wall connected, to sit in the corner and rot. But there was too much chaos, too much death.
"Edward!" I tried to shout over the crowd, but my voice was lost in the ghastly madness of it all.
A flash of silver caught my eye. A randomly placed steel square was bolted to The Wall amongst the stone; confusion danced in the back of my mind as I stared at it.
I could feel the voice's anxiety grow at the sight of it; it got rowdy in my head.
That's it, it whispered. That's it! It shrieked in my head.
What is it? It's just steel. I argued with it, not comprehending why such an insignificant square was so important.
The sound a gun going off close to my head brought me out of my reverie; I yelped and covered my skull.
It never hit me, but I saw the steel square explode as it was hit; I covered my eyes to keep from debris hitting my eyes.
I was going to die; that much was for sure. In the heat of battle, I would die one way or another; I accepted that fact. But, something inside me (the voice) urged me to investigate just exactly what was so important about that steel square.
When I reached where the steel square had once been, I realized it wasn't the square itself that special. My heart-shaped necklace burned against my chest with the power of a white hot inferno.
It was what was behind the square that was most crucial of all.
It explained everything my father had been talking about in his journal, the necklaces purpose, and just who the voice was.
When you are faced with adversity, make sure to put the pieces together, Bella. My father's voice spoke.
The same voice that had aggravated me, comforted me, and made me question my own sanity all this time had been my father. My father had caused me so much exasperation since his voice had haunted my mind; yet, I wouldn't be here without it.
Behind the square was a crater. A crater very intricately cut to be in the shape of a heart, the same size, and design as my necklace; as if it were made to be put in, like a puzzle piece. I numbly picked up my necklace and stared at it.
It couldn't be…I thought. It's not possible.
Yet, as soon as I thought the words, I knew it was; I knew that was the key, the last missing piece of the puzzle.
"Put the pieces together…" I muttered, as I slid my heart necklace into the hole in The Wall.
My necklace fit perfectly into the hole; I had to shove it in there to get it to go all the way in though. As soon as it was in, there was the strangest sound, even stranger than guns.
The sound of turning gears, a deep rumbling sound from within The Wall echoed off the walls.
A single, tiny, pebble fell into my upturned palm from above.
My eyes went to the enormous window that showed The Wall as it stretched into the horizon.
The Wall had always been an invincible, timeless, stagnant figure to me; while the world around it changed, it and everything it represented was unchanged. It was powerful, and as part of the world as trees and grass were. I learned that wasn't true.
My crossing The Wall had given a window of opportunity to the men of the other side; they launched an attack on the headquarters. My father had always intended for me to defy the law, to go against the current. He had given this to me, to destroy everything that was the source to the Volturi's power.
In the distance, I saw something I never thought could happen; all the fighting ceased as everyone watched.
Unbelievably, The Wall started to fall to the earth.
It started on the horizon, slowly, like a domino effect; The Wall was falling in a flurry of dust and dirt. I stood absolutely frozen. I had done this.
"It's not possible." I whispered, staring unseeingly at the tumbling rocks. "It's not possible!" I cried, cradling myself.
"It's going down!" Someone shouted, and that broke everyone's frozen state. People started shouting and running for the exits; I couldn't move. I couldn't find the strength in me to move from my place.
"You did this!" Aro, who was all but forgotten in my mind, bellowed at me from a distance. My mind drowned him out as I watching the result of my actions. As far as I could see, we were the only two left in the entire room.
"Look out!" Jasper yelled, shocking me. My head snapped up to see Aro pointing a small gun at me. Aro wasn't alright though; he was on the ground, writhing in pain, blood gushing from his stomach. I stared at the gun, flabbergasted; I remembered Edward said something about them being very deadly. But I had no time to move before I heard an earsplitting bang.
Shrieking, I cringed, waiting for the horrible pain that had been the source of all that howling before. But, there was no pain, no agony. But what I heard was even worse than my wildest imaginations could have conjured up.
Jasper's cry of pain, reverberated off the walls of the room. I looked up just in time to see him crumble to the floor right in front of me, in the path of the gun.
I was frozen. Jasper had saved me. Why? Panic overtook me.
I ran over to him, and crumbled next to him, picking up his head and cradling it in my arms; his face was bone white and cold. He was looking up at me with the weirdest emotion in his eyes—remorse?
"I'm sorry." He whispered hoarsely.
I stared at him, completely astounded. "What? Why?" I asked, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.
"My brother loves you—take care of him for me, please." He coughed, and squeezed his eyes in pain.
Tears blurred my vision. "No. No, Jasper, don't do this! You'll be alright." I said, panic in my voice. I tried to lift him up, so we could get out of here.
"Bella," He said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's no time. Go. At least I'll die, knowing I made up for being such an ass." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
This was impossible. Jasper hated me—he'd always hated me. Was that why he did this? Redemption? No. Not as I breathed would I leave Jasper here to die. I would never do that to Edward; but also, I had grown attached to him too in some strange way. I wasn't going to let him die on me.
"I'm not leaving you here; you better get up, before I start carrying you." I shoved my arm under his shoulder, and helped lift him up. He seethed as my hand grazed his wound.
He looked at me inscrutably; what was that his eyes held—awe? Pride?
He slung his arm over my shoulders and we started to hobble towards the exit, going excruciatingly slowly while the building collapsed around us. We would be crushed if we didn't go faster.
I gripped Jasper and hobbled us farther and farther away from the dying wall.
Breaking into the outside, we both ran (or limped) into the forest, frantic to get away from the falling structure. I got a glimpse of Edward. He was searching for something in the crowd, hanging onto a branch on a tree by one hand to get a better view.
"Edward!" I yelled, in elation; he whipped around to me, relief coming into his eyes. The rumbling got more powerful, and I suddenly feared we wouldn't get away in time. Edward's eyes widened in horror as he saw Jasper's state. He ran toward us, and quickly grabbed Jasper, and suddenly, we were almost running.
We all reached the top of the hill; Jasper collapsed on the ground, gripping his shoulder in agony. In the distance, we spotted Peter. Peter saw Jasper and ran over to us; thankfully he had a first aid kit.
Edward and I numbly left Peter and Jasper to themselves. Edward wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close; he quickly turned me around, and I saw what everyone was watching.
We observed as The Wall fell to the ground, buckling under its own weight.
The sight of the symbol of everything stable (and evil) in life, crumbling, was a sight that came only once in a lifetime—no, once in a millennia. Real life stories didn't have happy endings like this; it just wasn't so. And yet, this one did. Good had actually overpowered Evil this time.
I wouldn't learn until later that the Fall of The Wall meant so much more than a mere tumbling of rocks. It represented to ending of a dictatorship, and the beginning of a new era. An era that had once been lost.
*Tears welling up* Does it all make sense now, guys?
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She would always be my mother, and I would always love her – I couldn't change that; I finally understood her pain. Why she reacted such a way, and acted toward me; I understood it, but I didn't agree with it.
She despised that I left her; that I had gotten married and was going to have a family of my own. She had hated me with a passion, for now, she truly had no one.
Then, later on, I had a thought. Perhaps, I could ease her pain, and give a peace offering.
This morning, I had come to her front door (my old front door), with my father's journal clutched in my tight hands. She needed to understand, to know. I had handed it to her, and told her she just needed to read and that it was from Dad; that had stopped her from kicking me out like last time when I came to get my things.