CHAPTER SEVEN
Marina hasn't said a single word since we got on the train.
All alone in her seat row she sits as far away from me as possible, her legs pulled up to her body, her arms wrapped around them. She leans her head against the window, lost in thoughts, the eyes halfway closed. Every now and then it looks like she's fallen asleep, but then she sighs and shifts her position.
Her usually soft expressions have turned into a grimace of despair and anger, anger at me. The rosy colour of her cheeks has disappeared, now she's as pale as a corpse. Even though mentioning corpses probably isn't the best idea right now.
Of course, Marina blames me for Ella's death. If I had let Marina go to help her, who knows, maybe Ella would still be with us now. Who knows?
Well, I do. I am one hundred percent sure that not only Ella wouldn't be here right now; Marina would have been killed by the soldiers before she would even get the chance to heal Ella.
Remembering the image of Ella lying on the road near the park feels like I'm being stabbed in the stomach. Brave little Ella, who never harms a fly.
Marina sobs and I shake my head. A few seats in front of me, John and Sarah have fallen asleep long ago. They're all cuddled up, leaning their heads against each other. John has his arms around Sarah's shoulders while she hugs his chest.
Seeing them slumbering so peacefully side by side with Marina being all alone just a few feet away gives me a heartache.
There's nothing I'd like to do more right now than to just walk over to her and apologize. To tell her how sorry I am about Ella. I know how much she meant to Marina. Well, she meant a lot to all of us. After all, she was one of the last of the Loric. But to Marina, she was even more, almost like a little sister.
I want to go over there sit down beside her, but I just can't get myself to.
Half an hour passes, and a loudspeaker announcement tells us that we will be at the Canadian border soon. I start feeling thirsty, so I decide to go and get something in the dining car.
I walk past Marina, who doesn't even appreciate me of a view. Gritting her teeth, she stubbornly keeps staring out the window. Like a dying duck in a thunderstorm I open the door to the next car.
The dining car is on the other end of the train, and on my way I pass a few other passengers; not too many, after all it's two in the morning, but I still try keeping my head low.
Pictures of John, Nine and Six are all over the news, warning the population about those 'dangerous terrorists'. Most of them aren't exactly accurate and I haven't seen any about the rest of us, but I'm pretty sure that after our encounter with the soldiers they figured out what we all look like. It's best to just go by unnoticed.
When I reach the dining car, a silent rain begins to fall. The seller at the kiosk is a big, half-bald guy with a short goatee. He seems to be bored out of his mind, as except for me there's only two other costumers in the whole car, an older couple sitting at a table.
I buy two bottles of water, a bar of chocolate, and today's newspaper.
"That's nine dollars," the seller tells me and while he turns around to bring me my order, he shouts over his shoulder "Those terrorists aren't going to give up so easily, huh?"
"I'm sorry?" I say irritatedly. The seller throws the newspaper on the counter and points at the headline of the main page.
"There, read!" He says and scratches his nose.
'Terrorist attack in Michigan,' it says in big red letters. I swallow so hard I start coughing. There's a picture of the park Six and I got ambushed in. Someone has burnt down the giant ball of tree roots – probably the soldiers – and now the whole scene is one whole image of destruction. The buildings around the park have taken heavy damage from the fire, almost all the windows are shattered, and there still is smoke rising from some exploded cars to the right. The road is perforated from all the bullets the soldiers fired at us.
There's no sign of Ella, neither of Six and Nine. I just hope they weren't inside the root cage anymore when the fire started. The thought of it drains all the colour from my face.
"You okay?" The seller asks with a worried look at me. I compose myself and nod.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" I cough again, trying to find an excuse for reacting in that way.
"It's just, I, umm, grew up in that town. I used to walk through this park every day, and now it's… gone." I try to let out a convincing sob.
"Aww, that's awful. So sorry to hear that," he says in a sympathetic voice. "That must be shocking for you."
I nod, not really listening. There's an article about the incident on page three, and I have to tell the others, so I thank the seller, who gives me a encouraging pat on the shoulder, pay for the groceries and head back towards the door.
When I walk past the table with the couple, I suddenly notice they are watching me closely. I stop dead in my track and glance at them out of the corner of my eyes.
Something's obviously wrong with them. The woman is muffled up in a long, thick coat. From her nose downwards her strangely pale face is buried in a colourful scarf and she wears giant sunglasses. The only visible part of her body is her long black hair.
The man has grey hair, brown eyes and almost no eyebrows. There are purple scars all over his hollow cheeks. He is wearing nothing but sweatpants and a tank top, revealing more scars on his arms.
I hold my breath as he stands up right in front of me. My heart is racing while I feverishly think about what I should do.
"Is my coffee done yet," the man says aloud without taking his eyes off me.
"Of course, sir. Want me to bring it to you?" I hear the seller answer from behind me.
"No, it's fine, I'll go get it myself", the man says and starts heading towards the counter. When he comes close to me, my whole body tenses and I prepare myself for the worst.
I'm ready to fight him. I'm ready to smash him into the next wall with telekinesis. I'm ready to do everything needed to protect myself as soon as he makes a wrong move.
He is so close now I can smell him. A mix of noble perfume and sweat rises to my nose.
Some of his scars catch my eye. They seem fresh, not fully healed, as if they have just recently been inflicted.
Another step and he'll be close enough to attack me. I bend one leg and take a defensive stance.
Then he is only one inch away from me, and that's when something confusing happens.
Instead of attacking, he trips over my right leg and falls to the ground.
"Malcolm, are you okay?" The woman shouts in a strangely pitched voice and dashes forward to help him up. Flummoxedly I watch as the man leans on her and holds his head. While he embarrassedly looks around, I try to understand what on earth just happened. Kind of the opposite of what I expected.
"Thank you, Mary." The says to the woman, then turns to me.
"I am terribly sorry, young man," he says. "I must not have seen you there." Which is funny, as he has been observing me for as long as I've been in the car.
"My bad," I mutter, eager to get away fast. I give the couple a short apologizing smile and quickly walk out the door. Only then do I relax and allow myself a relieved sigh.
On my way back I wonder why I overreacted so badly. After all, it was just an old couple, and that's really not what I should be afraid of. Okay, the woman did look a bit strange and suspicious, but who am I to judge human fashion.
I seriously expected that frail old man to attack me. I shake my head. Now I can only laugh about myself. I'm seeing enemies in everyone and everything. After we find Six and Nine, we really need some time off, maybe go somewhere safe and relax for a while.
I bite my tongue when I suddenly remember it was the illusion of safety that caused Ella's death and Six' and Nine's capture. We had thought ourselves safe for once, and look what it had lead us to.
Well, it's our own fault. Just as it had been, back when my Cêpan Reynolds died. It's always the same. You get used to a certain situation, try to make the best of it, and then, bam, something terrible happens.
We will never be safe, I sourly realize. Not until the last Mogadorian has been reduced to a pile of ash.
I reach our car, where John and Sarah still are asleep and Marina still stares out the window, all alone. I take a deep breath and, before I can reconsider it, I sit down next to her. She looks at me with those deep, thoughtful eyes, and I can almost feel the anger spark out of them.
"Hey," I say, and she turns away from me. I sigh but don't give it up yet.
"Want some water?" I ask and hold up one of the bottles I bought. Marina looks at it for a moment.
"No water in the world can make it up," she silently mutters and I frown.
"Listen, Marina," I begin, trying to find the right words for what I want to tell her. "I know what I did when they opened fire on us is unforgivable. After all the times you saved my life I just disrespected you, I held you back against your will and worst of all I kept you from helping Ella."
Only mentioning Ella's name makes Marina sob again, and I feel like the worst person in the world.
"This probably sound like a really, really bad excuse, but I was trying to protect you. All I did was because I didn't want to lose you. I was too damn afraid to let you go, because I was sure you'd die the second I would.
Maybe, if I had let you be at her side right away, there would have been a way to save her. And yes, in that case it's my fault she's dead now."
Saying it out loud makes my throat feel completely dry and rough. She stares at me with a raised eyebrow, tilting her head. I can tell she's still as angry as before, but at least she's listening.
"Yes, in that case I am the only one there is to blame and your anger is justified. But, and it kills me from the inside, if I had the choice again, if I had to decide whether I would give you the chance of saving Ella at the risk of losing you own life, I still would never let you go." I hold her gaze for as long as I can.
"You don't have to understand me, or even forgive me," I say and my voice cracks. "I just wanted you to know."
I feebly stand up and with hanging arms I walk over to the seat row I sat in earlier.
I feel exhausted, as if all the energy just got drained out of me, together with what I said to Marina.
The scene at the park jumps to my mind. Too tired to block it out, I go through it all again. It's like watching a movie: John shoving agent Walker away, the soldiers engaging fire on us, Ella getting hit, Marina screaming at me, trying to help her. My limbs clench as I can't shake off the images.
'Go,' Ella had said when she knew all hope for her was lost. Go. She knew it was too late for her, but she wanted to still save us. Heroic last words for a twelve year old.
I had followed Ella's last will and teleported all of us about two blocks away from the park. Marina had screamed and cried and begged me to take her back. When she realized I wouldn't, she had started running back. I had grabbed her with telekinesis, stopped her in the middle of two steps and dragged her with us. At first she had tried to resist, partly with her own telekinesis, partly just flailing. As I have been training my legacies for years and she hardly ever had any practise, she soon gave up and fell into a furious silence.
A movement to my side makes me jump. I'm relieved it's just Marina coming towards me. Actually, I'm more than relieved, I'm hopeful.
She rubs her tear-stained eyes and presses her lips together so they form a thin line. Clearing her throat examines me, then – to my surprise - sits down next to me.
For a while, she doesn't say anything. The train rushes by rivers and small villages. The constant, silent rain falls down and hundreds of raindrops pound against the windows.
"I forgive you," Marina finally says and looks at me with sad eyes.
"You do?" I raise both eyebrows, then smile at her. "Umm, wow, thanks. That's awesome!"
She looks down at her feet and tugs a flick of hair behind her ear.
"I came to the conclusion that it's not your fault. I can't just blame you, knowing you only tried to protect me. I mean, you weren't the one who fired those bullets," she says in a steady voice. "And I'm sorry for being so mad at you. I was just so caught up in the horror of Ella's death and you dragging me away from her that I forgot you only tried to help."
"There's nothing to be sorry about," I say and she tries to smile, but all she manages is a suppressed sob. She presses her eyelids together, trying to hold back another wave of tears, and I patiently wait until she has composed herself.
"Eight," Marina says after a moment, her voice still shaking. "I… I thought about it. About Ella's death." She stops and shakes her head. "I mean, of course I thought about it, I can hardly think of anything else." She rests her head on her elbows and gazes out the window. "It doesn't make sense. I mean, why isn't there another scar on our ankles now? If she died, another scar must have appeared right away, right?"
I sigh and look at her. I had thought about that, too. When we got to earth and the charm to protect us form the Mogadorians had been cast, it also included this sort of warning system. If one of the remaining Garde died, a mark with his or her Loric number would burn itself into our legs.
Ella is one of the remaining Garde, which means there should be four scars now. The thing is, Ella wasn't there when the charm had been cast, and as much as I want to, I can't believe she is part of the spell.
The fact that no scar has appeared doesn't have to mean anything.
But I don't have the heart to take away that last piece of hope Marina has left.
So I just nod.
"That means she must still be alive," Marina says and I nod again. She closes her eyes, leaning her head back. Despite the despair of the situation, a wide grin slowly forms on her face.
And after all that happened Marina deserves that bit of false hope.
Hello everybody!
First of all, thank you people for all the new reviews. Every single one of them helps me write these chapters and I'll never take them for granted. Seriously, you guys are kind of writing this story yourself, if that makes any sense.
Today's chapter took a bit longer and for that it also is a bit longer. There's not too much action going on in this one, hope you like it, though. Let me know if having some time-out-of-action chapters is okay or if you want to have one cliffhanger after the other ;)
So, there have been some comments asking me to write whose point of view the chapter is written from. Personally, as a reader I would prefer not to have it like that, as I think part of the fun and 'mystery' of this kind of story is finding out whose POV it is. Also it might spoiler some things I have in mind for the next few chapters. But that's just a personal opinion, and as we all know 'the costumer - which is you, the readers - is king' so you guys tell me.
We could make a forum thread or something to discuss such things, if you want to. Or I could just answer the reviews in my own reviews to my own story, I don't know. Let me know what you think.
So: are actionless chapters okay, do you want me to write whose POV it is, and do you want to discuss such things with me (and if yes, how)?
Next chapter might take a little longer, still quite busy, but stay tuned folks.
That's all for now, have a wonderful day, and as always thanks a load for reading my story :)