Fracture Me (Shatter Me, #2.5)(7)

Juliette will probably puke.

The action is so close to us now that I instinctively press my back into the wall, forgetting again that we’re invisible. The soldier grabs the lady and slams her body against the outside of the unit, and I feel the three of us collectively freak out for a second, calming down just in time to watch the soldier press the barrel of his gun to the lady’s neck and say, “If you don’t shut up I’ll shoot you right now.” What an *.

The lady faints.

The soldier doesn’t seem to care. He pulls her out of sight—in the same direction his comrade went—and that’s our cue to follow. I can hear Kenji cursing under his breath. He’s got a soft stomach, that guy. He was always soft when it came to this stuff. I met him for the first time on one of our rounds; when we came back, Kenji lost his shit. Just completely lost it. They put him in solitary confinement for a little while, and after that he kept his emotional breakdowns to a minimum. Most soldiers know better than to complain out loud. I should’ve known then that Kenji wasn’t really one of us.

I shudder against the cold.

We’re still following the soldier, but it’s hard to stay too close to him in this weather. Visibility is shot, and the wind is blowing the rain around so hard it’s almost like we’re trapped in a hurricane. This is going to get ugly really quickly.

Then, a small voice: “What do you think is going on?”

Juliette.

Of course she has no idea what’s happening—why would she?

The smart thing to do would be to hide her somewhere. Keep her safe. Out of danger. A weak link can bring everything down with it, and I don’t think this is the time to be taking chances. But Kenji, as usual, doesn’t seem to agree. Apparently he doesn’t mind making time to give Juliette a tutorial on being at war in Sector 45.

“They’re herding them up,” Kenji explains. “They’re creating groups of people to kill all at once.”

“The woman—,” Juliette says.

“Yeah.” Kenji cuts her off. “Yeah,” Kenji says again. “She and whoever else they think might be connected to the protests,” he says. “They don’t just kill the inciters. They kill the friends and the family members, too. It’s the best way to keep people in line. It never fails to scare the shit out of the few left alive.”

I have to jump in before Juliette asks any more questions. Those soldiers aren’t going to wait patiently for us to get there—we have to make a move now, and we need a plan. “There has to be a way to get them out of there,” I say. “Maybe we can take out the soldiers in charge—”

“Yeah but listen, you guys know I’m going to have to let go of you, right?” Kenji asks. “I’m already kind of losing strength; my energy is fading faster than normal. So you’ll be visible. You’ll be a clearer target.”

“But what other choice do we have?” Juliette asks.

She’s like the second coming of James. I feel for my gun, flexing and unflexing my fingers around it. We need to get going.

We need to move now.

“We could try to take them out sniper-style,” Kenji says. “We don’t have to engage in direct combat. We have that option.” He pauses. “Juliette, you’ve never been in this kind of situation before. I want you to know I’d respect your decision to stay out of the direct line of fire. Not everyone can stomach what we might see if we follow those soldiers. There’s no shame or blame in that.”

Yes. Good. Let her stay behind where she won’t get hurt.

“I’ll be okay,” she says.

I swear under my breath.

“Just—all right—but don’t be afraid to use your abilities to defend yourself,” Kenji says. He seems a little nervous about her, too. “I know you’re all weird about not wanting to hurt people or whatever, but these guys aren’t messing around. They will try to kill you.”

“Right,” Juliette says. “Yeah. Let’s go.”





SIX


Juliette shouldn’t have to see this.

Six soldiers have rounded up almost thirty civilians—a mix of men, women, and children—and they’re going to kill them. It’s basically a firing squad. They’ll just go down the row, pop pop pop, and then drag the dead bodies away. Put them into an incinerator. Clean it up, nice and simple.

It’s disgusting.

I’m not sure what the soldiers are waiting for, though. Maybe they need final approval from somewhere, but there’s a slight delay as they talk amongst themselves. It’s raining really freaking hard, so that might have something to do with it. Honestly, they might not even be able to see where they’re shooting. We should be taking advantage of this opportunity. This weather might end up helping us out in the end.

I squint against the rain and take a closer look at the people, trying hard not to lose my head. They’re not doing too well, and I’m not either, to be honest. Some are pretty hysterical, and it makes me wonder how I would do in a situation like that. Maybe I’d be like that guy in the middle, standing there with absolutely no expression on his face. He looks almost like he’s accepted what’s going to happen, and somehow, his certainty hits me even harder than the tears.

A shot rings out.