Fracture Me (Shatter Me, #2.5)(8)

Dammit.

A guy on the far left falls to the ground and I’m shaking with anger. These people need our help. We can’t just hang back and watch thirty unarmed, innocent people get killed when we could find a way to save them. We’re supposed to be doing something, but we’re standing here for some bullshit reason I can’t understand because Juliette is scared or Kenji is sick and I guess the truth is we’re just a bunch of crappy teenagers, two of whom can barely stand up straight or fire a weapon, and it’s unacceptable. I’m just about to say something—I’m about to yell something, actually—when Kenji lets go of my hand.

About goddamn time.

We charge straight ahead and my gun is already up and aimed. I spot the soldier who fired the first shot and I know I need to fire; there’s no room for hesitation. I get lucky: he goes down instantly. Five more soldiers to take out—soldiers I’m hoping I won’t recognize—and I’m doing my best, but it’s not easy. It was pure luck that got me that first target; it’s almost impossible to shoot well in this weather. I can barely see where I’m going, much less where I’m shooting, but I drop to the ground just in time to avoid a stray bullet. At least the rain is making it hard for them to take us out, too.

Kenji is making miracles happen today.

He’s invisible now, and working fast. He’s staying sharp despite being injured, and he’s just a part of the wind, taking out three soldiers in one go. Two soldiers are left and they’re distracted by Kenji’s dance just long enough for me to take one down. One more left and I’m about to take him out, too, when I see Juliette shoot him from behind.

Not bad.

Kenji reappears just then and he starts bellowing for the civilians to follow us back to shelter, and Juliette and I join in, doing what we can to get them to safety as quickly as possible. There are a few compounds still standing, and they should be enough. The civilians can get inside and away from the battle—as well as the storm brewing in the sky. And even though their gratitude is touching, we can’t stop long enough to talk to them. We have to settle them back into their homes, and then keep moving.

It’s what I’ve always done.

Always keep moving.

I glance at Juliette as we run, wondering how she’s holding up, and for a second I’m confused; I can’t tell if she’s crying or if it’s just the rain streaking down her cheeks. I’m hoping she’ll be okay, though. It kills me to see her deal with this. I wish she didn’t have to.

We’re running again, charging through the compounds now that we’ve gotten the civilians back into their homes. This was just a stop on the way to our final destination; we haven’t even reached the battlefield yet, where Point men and women are already trying to keep Reestablishment soldiers from slaughtering innocent civilians. Things are about to get much, much worse.

Kenji is pulling us through the half-demolished landscape. I know we’re getting closer to the action now because there’s so much more devastation here: units falling apart and half on fire, their contents strewn everywhere. Ripped couches and broken lamps, clothes and shoes and fallen bodies to step over. The compounds feel like they could stretch on forever, and the farther we go, the uglier it gets.

“We’re close!” I shout to Kenji.

He nods, and I’m surprised he even heard me.

I hear a familiar sound. “Tanks!” I call out to him. “You hear that?”

Kenji shoots me a bleak look and nods. “Let’s move!” he says, making a motion with his hand. “We’re not far now!”

It’s a fight to get to the fight, the wind whistling hard in our ears and slapping sharply against our faces, angry raindrops pelting our skin, soaking our hair. I’m frozen to the bone but there’s no time to be bothered by it. I’ve got adrenaline, and that’ll have to be enough for now.

The earth shakes under our feet as a harsh, booming sound explodes in the sky. In an instant the horizon is lit on fire, flames roaring in the distance. Someone is dropping bombs, and that means we’re already screwed. My heart is beating fast and hard, and I’d never admit it out loud, but I’m starting to get nervous.

I glance at Juliette again. I know she’s probably scared, and I want to reassure her—to tell her everything is going to be okay—but she doesn’t look my way. She’s in another world, her eyes cold and sharp, focused on the fire in the distance. She looks different—a little scary, even. Somehow, that worries me even more.

I’m paying such close attention to her that I almost trip; the ground is slick underfoot and I’m up to my ankles in mud. I pull my legs free as we forge ahead, gun steady in my hands, and focus. This is it. This is where it’s all about to get very serious, and I know enough about war to be honest with myself: I might walk onto that battlefield with a beating heart and be dragged off with a dead one.

I take a deep breath as we approach, three invisible kids walking through the compounds. We make our way over fallen units, broken glass from shattered windows; we sidestep the garbage strewn about and try not to hear the sound of people screaming. And I don’t know about the rest of us, but I’m doing my best to fight the urge to turn around and run back to where we started.

Suddenly James is the only person on my mind.





SEVEN