The Disbanded: Divided We Stand-Chapter 37
By MyNameIsCAL
---Gazzy's POV---
I had given up on looking for Angel and Nudge. They could be anywhere in California now. In fact, they could be in a different country. So heading to Arizona seemed to make sense for me. At least I could find Dr. Martinez or something. If she was still there, and I hoped she was. Maybe, if I was lucky, I'd remember my way there.
Flying was amazing. But doing it alone was less interesting. It was pretty, I don't know, I guess you could say depressing. You just saw everything, for miles and miles, thousands of things, and yet none of them comforting. I figured it would take a day to get to Arizona. Honestly, I didn't know. My map skills sucked, plus I had to stop and steal food. Making out like a bandit every night.
Maybe there was hope though.
---Angel's POV---
Nudge is lucky she can't hear their thoughts. The scientists are thinking about their families. None of them can wait to get back home for New Year's Eve. This one guy is planning to get wasted. It's gross. Sometimes I can't stand to hear people. Yet Nudge, when I listened to her, there wasn't much of anything. She was losing hope.
"Nudge," I whispered.
She turned to face me in her cage.
"It's gonna be ok," I promised.
She shrugged and leaned against the side. "I'm gonna sleep for a while."
And she closed her eyes, her thoughts more hopeless than before. If she gave up, I wasn't going to last very long here alone.
---Fang's POV---
The pain seemed to get better, now that I had things to keep my mind off of things. It's been a while since I've dropped into one of those moods where happiness felt so far away. Maybe I would get off the depression meds soon. They made sleeping hard. Sometimes when I took them, it gave me this off feeling. Or it could just be paranoia, but I'd beg to differ.
It's New Year's Eve. There's no snow here like there is in Massachusetts. At least it was warm here. Although long sleeve shirts and pants were annoying. Yet I didn't have the heart to reveal the scars to Mom. I didn't need to look down and remember all the self inflicted pain I had caused myself. Some of them were fading, but there were a few I knew that would never go away.
Sometimes I would stare at them, and Max would come along, run her hand up my arm, and pull my sleeve down. She would always shake her head. "Fang, don't make yourself sad."
And she was right, it would make me deeply depressed seeing what I had done to myself, yet I still wanted to do it sometimes. There would be only silence from me when she said that, so after a while, she would sit down, or lay down, next to me, curling up into a ball, and grasping my hand tightly, as if she were afraid letting go might release me back into that darkness.
---Max's POV---
Ted had been keeping in touch with the guys from the team. They were all enjoying their time off. Chuck and Kerry were out in Europe somewhere and were coming home after the New Year. Barry and Will were enjoying time with their wives. Both Chuck and Kerry offered to help us when they came back. Even Eli and Mike were eager to do something. To help our cause, as they would say. We told them after New Year, we'd start going again. And while we could be out there looking for the flock, it didn't seem right to leave.
Like every morning, Fang took his medication and ate breakfast. Cal was in the other room, on the phone with her parents. Apparently they weren't happy that she had ran off with Ted for Christmas. When she told them that Ted had asked her to marry her, they seemed a little shocked. Cal claimed in the end they were happy.
"They don't really miss me," Cal sighed. "They just wanna make it seem like they care."
Fang was amused. "Oh, that's just so nice."
Cal grinned. "Oh, totally."
I laughed. Ted came in and Cal ruffled his hair.
"What's so funny?" Ted questioned.
Cal pushed Ted lightly. "Nothing at all."
He rolled his eyes and they sat down across from Fang and me.
---Fang's POV---
Everyone is in the kitchen cooking, except me. I sat with the TV on, tracing the scars on my arm like I always did when I was alone. The news was on. They were talking about what the new year would bring the economy and politics. I thought it was a load of bullcrap, but I guess the reporters had to talk about something. To me, it felt like they were just talking in circles. Actually, they were.
It was hot in the house. I went to open a window when Mom walked in.
"Why don't you go change into shorts and a t-shirt. All of us are still in pajamas," Mom offered.
I hesitated. "I'll just open a window."
She helped me open it. I was trying to stand, but my legs were shaking.
"Go sit. Don't hurt yourself," she insisted.
I retreated to the couch and lifted my leg up onto it, holding it for support. Then I went back to staring at my arms. There were a few stories behind all of these. I remembered them well. But I shouldn't be thinking about them. It would make me depressed, so I lay back and closed my eyes, pulling my sleeves down, hoping to forget about everything for a while.
