Chapter 11

Kira didn't drink. She went straight back to her penthouse and locked herself in her room for hours. That left me alone to shower and get the blood out of the joints in my metal arm. I turned the heat up to the max and it barely felt lukewarm. Everything was foggy, sharp edges dull, bright colors damp. Two thousand people: dead. Five thousand: injured. A thousand more missing. That's what the news had said. That's what I think they said, the constant cries and shrieks and gunfire were on repeat in my head, bleeding out the TVs sound.

It took me more than an hour to wash everything off, and then another hour to try and scrub away the blood that can't be washed away.

Toweling off, putting on clothes and sitting on the couch was a blur. The TV was on to the news, a dark skinned woman was interviewing the head of the Council. The man stuttered out weak conclusions and promises, he had red circles around his eyes, his white suit crumpled.

I ran a hand through my hair and collapsed onto the couch. I squeezed my eyes shut. That man was a monster. Whoever he was. He was long dead by now. He should be at least. The Rogues had pulled him out of the rubble, it was their issue after all. Hera was also getting a lot of blowback from the Council and the Gatekeepers, apparently the gunman was a Rogue. But the Rogues denied it..

"A split in the ranks," I muttered.

"What?"

I sprung up and my head smacked something hard. I groaned and sat up, a girl with brown hair was holding her nose. Her eyes weren't as sunken as last time, her cheeks more filled, skin more colored.

"How did you get in here?"

Lara sat down on the couch, her small frame sinking between the thick pillows. "I'm Kira's closest friend so of course I have a key. Don't tell her that though. She doesn't know I have one."

"Noted," I muttered, rubbing my temples and lying back down.

"You were down there? On Founder's street?" she mumbled, her eyes glued to the TV. They were questioning some of the Watchmen now, usually they were forces of nature, now they were brought down to tears and heart wrenching sobs. They were human, just like the rest of us.

"Yeah."

"How come you don't have TV crews interrogating you?" She stood up and went to the kitchen, coming back with packets of juice. "Huh, didn't think Kira drank juice."

"She doesn't. I bought them for her." I blew out a sigh and took the packet. "Kira said something about sending a video to Hera, and the news can't come all the way up here anyway. Not being allowed to or whatever."

She nodded and sucked on the juice, eyes still glued to the screen. She had marks running down her arms, scars and dots.

"How come you don't stay here?" I said.

She leaned back and sighed, changing the channel to a 24/7 movie channel. "I used to, then I just kinda decided not to. I got into some stuff … wasn't too proud of it."

"It's so quiet over here. You should come back," I smiled. "I could invite Tick and Runt and it could be even cozier."

She chuckled, "I like you Dan, but don't get ahead of yourself. This isn't your apartment."

"Well I'm going to be staying around here for a while anyways."

She raised an eye brow and leaned forward. "Oooo. You're attracted to her?"

"Please. She'd nail me to the building before she even sits next to me for longer than five minutes."

"She's a tough cookie to crack, but she's a softy deep down," she grinned.

"I value my life enough not to go looking for the soft parts," I laughed.

I heard the door upstairs creak open, followed by the warm smell of honey. Kira came down the stairs, big hoodie hanging off of her. "Good to see you guys are having fun," she grumbled. "Hera's coming soon."

That final sentence directed at Lara. It was a second or two before it clocked to her. "Oh. Right. Rogue stuff. I'll be seeing you guys around then. And Dan, the cookie is sweet enough for it to be worthwhile." She winked and left, grabbing a few fruits on her way.

"Hell did that mean?" Kira muttered, sinking into the sofa, notably far away from me. Her blonde hair covered the eye patch now too.

"Nothing. Just stuff."

She nodded and looked back at the plasma TV. She switched it back to the news, a man stood in front of a hospital. Vans were ferrying people in and out of it, a woman was shrieking in the background – a small red bow in her hand.

"Today. Why'd you freeze up?" Her voice was condescending, like a parent scolding a child.

"I've seen a lot of things, but nothing like that," I muttered. I glanced at her, she looked away.

"Next time, if you freeze up, I'm leaving your ass there."

"Let's hope there's no next time," I said, trying a smile.

She groaned, "Jeez you're insufferable. You're the Stray, you know as well as anyone else that something like that might happen again. And you just smile? At a time like this?"

I crossed my arms, our eyes locked. "Well what do you want me to do? Go down there and help carry dead kids?"

"Oh fuck you," she spat. "So you're chickening out again? Walking away like you always do?"

"You're one to talk. You smell of honey and you're sitting in your lavish penthouse berating me about not doing anything? Whilst parents lost kids and kids lost parents?" I shot back. "Pretty ironic considering the lofty heights you live in."

She stood up and slammed open the sliding glass doors to the balcony. "Get your ass off my couch and look at this."

I followed her outside, the moon was bright tonight, the stars winking in the darkness. Founder's street was lit up, power washers cleaning the river of blood. Bodies already cleared up. The building we brought down a damn in the river. The rest of the city was eerily silent, even the far away Rogue territory, its usual flashes of light and cheers absent in the warm night.

She pointed towards the desert near the east, a small campus stood there. White light bathing the red bricks. "You see that?"

"What about it?"

"That's an orphanage." She crossed her arms and looked over me. "My orphanage. So whilst you were taking two hour long showers I was calling to make sure the kids were safe."

"I …" my words trailed off, her blue eye stabbing through me.

She put up a hand. "Save it. You know what was there before the orphanage?"

I shook my head slowly.

"My house." She stabbed a finger towards Founder's street. "I was thrown out by my parents, Lord knows if I was born only a few years ago I would have ended up as one of those kids in a body bag right now. But this," she spread her arms, indicating the penthouse, "I deserve this. Because I worked hard for it. And you know what I did when I had enough money? I bought my parents' house and kicked them to the fucking curb the same way they did with me."

The smell of honey was overpowering, heat radiated from her, a vein popping in her neck.

"What happened to your parents?" I muttered, transfixed by her blue eye. It was finally showing something other than a wall. Anger – cold and ruthless anger.

She spat, "Hell if I care. Last time I saw them they were trying to kiss my ass."

"That's … "

"That's what? What Stray? Terrible? Is that it? You find it bad that I got revenge on my parents? Does that hurt your morals? Well I don't care, because it felt amazing tearing that house down."

I leaned forward, putting my forearms on the railing.

"That's what I thought. So don't talk to me like I'm some sort of bureaucrat looking down on the city. I've lived on those streets, I know what's happening down there."

I let her words hang between us. They cooled down the air, the railing felt sharp and cold.

"So that kid at the apartment, you weren't going to actually shoot him?" I mumbled, gazing over the city.

"'Course not. Guns are for killing people. If you pull it out to intimidate someone you weren't planning on killing them," she muttered.

A convoy of cars stopped at the entrance of the building, I could see Hera's golden eyes from up here. A few others piled out of the cars, Runt bringing up the back. A few more minutes and they'd be up here, better now than later to tell Kira.

"Fallow."

"What?"

"My last name. It's Fallow." I straightened up and looked at her, her eyebrows climbing her forehead. Her face went from disgusted, to unbelieving and back to disgust.

"No shit," she gasped. "You're a Fallow? The ex-General's son?"

I nodded. I hated being reminded of him. He was probably rotting somewhere. God help him if I ever see him again.

She laughed and ran a hand through her short hair. "And you killed him. Holy … you're a killer just like me. And you have all these ideas of keeping people safe, and you go and kill your own Dad." She shook her head, blonde hair swaying. "I hate you even more now. A hypocrite, a killer and you build yourself on false foundation. You probably grew up in a big house with maids and cars, probably had everything you ever wanted. So all in all you're just a fucked up rich kid with mommy issues."

I glared at her. "You know what, Kira? I did grow up in a big house, but when you're locked away in the basement or the attic your entire childhood you don't really get to know if you have maids or not."

She took a step back and folded her arms, lips pressed together.

"And you know who locked me away? The oh-so-great General Fallow." I jabbed a finger at my right eye and down the scar. "He's the reason I have this. He's the reason I went freakin' blind when I was five years old. He smashed a bottle against my head. Have you ever experienced that? I'm guessing you haven't."

We stood a meter apart, scowling at each other. I broke eye contact and looked at Founder's street again, the stain of blood wouldn't disappear anytime soon. The smell would never go.

"I'm sorry for snapping," I whispered.

"So when are you leaving?" she muttered, a question for herself again. She leaned on the railing – the fight sapped out of the both of us. She gazed into the distance. Slim fingers tapped on the railing.

I sighed and leaned against it too. There was a shift in her body language, she wasn't far away anymore. Her elbow touching mine, her blonde hair wasn't covering her eye patch.

"Not anytime soon. It sounds stupid but … I guess you're right. Should at least stick around and help however I can."

"What about your mum?"

"I'll find her soon enough. But I guess I have bigger problems than that right now."

She turned towards me, blue eye glistening in the white light. "What was your name again? Ben? Sam?"

"Dan," I corrected.

She snorted, "Pretty stupid name."

I smiled. "It's a talent."

She sighed and went back inside, I followed her, shutting the door behind me. She slotted into the couch, I did the same thing. The rose on the table had begun to sprout, its small green stem breaking through the dirt.

"That's not a talent by the way. Having a stupid name," she said.

"How many people do you know have a stupid name?"

She rolled her eye. "I'll give you that one."

The black door of the penthouse swung open. Hera stormed in, or at least it felt like she did. Her rainstorm presence filled the room, bleeding out the smell of honey. She stopped in front of the TV, facing the two of us on the couch. Jin followed her in, standing next to her. Tick stood away from the four of us, back leaning against the sliding doors. Green hair, Dreads and a young kid with soft brown skin were the last to come into the penthouse. Runt slotted as close as she could next to me.

Hera looked at the different faces in the room, her jaw clenching, white metallic nails tapping against her arms as she crossed them. "Sit down. All of you."

Dreads and Green hair sat down next to Kira, Tick sat between myself and her.

"Jin. Sit down." Hera didn't turn to look at him.

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "What?"

"I didn't stutter."

He clenched his jaw and remained next to her. She turned towards him, and cocked her head. He took a step back and sat on the edge of the couch – a reluctant sigh squeezing out of his clenched teeth.

She's scary, Runt signed to me.

"I can be scarier, dear," Hera said. "Stray and Kira, you two did well today. Kira especially, thank you for recording it."

Kira gave her a relaxed salute.

"But the rest of you," she growled, "where the hell were you? Draco and Saia, you two were meant to be at the festival."

Dreads and Green hair flinched.

Draco shifted on the couch. "There was a … riot. Near the northern gate so Saia and I had to take care of it."

"And when did it start?" Hera glared at him, his visibly shrank backwards.

"Like an hour before the shooting? Thirty minutes?" Saia said, avoiding Hera's eye contact.

"Convenient," she muttered, nodding to herself. She turned towards Jin and Tick. "And Jin, where the hell were you?"

"I was busy." He met Hera's eyes, she looked down at him.

"Where were you Jin?" she stepped towards him, cupping his chin. "I'd like to know before I start jumping to conclusions."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he sneered.

"My right hand man goes missing when the chaos starts. You're smart enough to see where a conclusion can be drawn up," she whispered, her face inches from his.

He pulled away, his eyes avoiding hers. "I was … busy. With Tick."

She straightened and scowled at the both of them. Tick's eyes were distant, locked onto the TV. "You're telling me you were busy playing hide the stick instead of being where you were supposed to be?"

"It's not like you were doing anything important," he muttered.

Hera was a blur. She had her hand wrapped around Jin's throat in an instance, white nails digging into it. "Unless you forgot I've been busy dealing with the Council and their bullshit. Without you. So I suggest you drop the whole smug act before I rip you in half. Understood, Jin?"

He nodded, a bead of sweat ran down his forehead. She let go of him and he fell back onto the couch, red lines ran across his neck. "The fuck are you looking at?"

I turned away and shrugged.

She took in a deep breath and let it out. The small creases of stress were lining the edges of her eyes. Her shoulders slightly hunched. Exhaustion. Only nineteen and she had half the city to deal with.

"Could I pitch something, Your Majesty?" Jin asked.

Hera scowled. "Drop it, Jin. I know what you're thinking." She turned towards Draco and Saia. "Draco, go and check our weapons supply. Make sure nothing's missing. Saia, go with him."

"Yes ma'am," they said in unison. Relief tinged their escape out of the room.

"Jin, there's footage of the attack I want you, Ceejay and Mei to go over."

"Why me? Mei and Ceejay can handle it." He crossed his arms, his red bionic arm creaking slightly. "I'm sure Stray over here can rub enough brain cells together to help out too."

She glared at him.

"But I guess I'll do it." He stood up, pausing to look me up and down before leaving. Ceejay on his heels, tapping something onto his pad.

"Tick. Try and find out who that gunman is. If you find anything tell Jin."

Tick nodded. He was pale and sweaty, his long black hair matted. His eyes were just as distant as when he entered. He didn't even turn towards me when I called out his name. He dragged himself out of the room, his hands in his pockets and head hanging.

"What's wrong with him?" Hera asked, eyes examining me.

"I don't know. I've never seen him like that," I muttered. He'd been in a downward spiral ever since I came, maybe staying was selfish. It might benefit me in the long run, but it was hurting Tick in the short. Maybe I should –

"Can you read?"

"I mean … yeah? Of course I can," I replied.

"Not you jackass, she was talking to Runt," Kira chuckled.

I felt heat walk up my neck.

I can, she signed.

Hera handed her a note. She looked at me and said, "Don't worry. It's nothing dangerous. I know her kind, she'll be able to handle it. We're both war orphans after all."

That caught me off guard. How Hera knew about that … that's beyond me. She had people everywhere if she knew that. Her golden eyes twinkled, she knew was more than she let on. She could be a threat, but I was on her good side. I hope. If not, then a lot of things could go wrong for a lot of people.

Runt nodded and gave me a heartwarming smile. I'm going to help out, just like you do, she signed.

"Indeed you will," Hera smiled. She began leading Runt out of the penthouse.

"What should I do?" I called.

She paused. "Learn to play chess. There's a black piece amongst our white pieces, Daniel."

"Black piece?" I asked.

She nodded, her eyes lingering on me, the edge of her mouth tugging downwards. "You'll understand soon enough. Try and think about which piece it is, it might just be a pawn or it could be a more important piece. My pick is the bishop."

**

I couldn't sleep. I tossed, turned and flipped and I just couldn't. The sounds of sirens and the smell of blood was a constant – a new constant that I didn't need. I slid off the couch and stumbled towards the balcony, Founder's street was still being washed. The hospitals were overflowing with people, emergency lights buzzed through the city.

After Kira had gone up stairs I'd snuck out and gone down there. It was terrible. From up here the smells and sights were blurred by the multi colored lights and advertisements. But down there felt like an entirely different world. Chaos. Heartache. And all because of one man.

The smell of strawberries hit me first before I heard her footsteps.

"Couldn't sleep?" she whispered, standing next to me.

I nodded.

"Where'd you get those?" she turned away from Founder's street, pointing towards my collar.

I took the pair of Aviator's off, they were old. A relic from the old generations. But they were pristine, the black glass clean, gold frame sparkling.

"A Watchman gave them to me," I muttered, my voice carried by the warm wind. "Said I looked like his son.

She nodded. "Tried them on yet?"

I shook my head.

"How come?"

"Doesn't feel like my place to do that."

She took them from me and flipped them over. She pushed my hair off of my face and slid them on. "One thing's for sure. You don't look as weird as you normally do."

I tried and failed at a smile. The city was darker with the sunglasses on. Bright lights watered down, the moon a pale dot. Founder's street didn't have its red scar, it looked normal, like nothing ever happened. I flipped them up and the scar came back, flipped them back down and the scar disappeared.

"Is this how you see things?" I mumbled.

She sighed and lay down on one of the deck chair, putting her hands behind her head and looking up at the sky. "Wanna play a game?"

I put the aviators on my collar, the scar stretched across the street. It covered the city. It covered its people.

"It's called one truth and one lie. It's a game Lara and I used to play out on the streets," she said. "Only one rule: don't say which one is which."

"What's the point of playing a game right now, Kira?"

"I'll go first." She sat up, the wind lifted her hair. She had removed her eye patch. The golden – black eye striking in the moonlight. She brushed her hair down and covered the eye. "I love alcohol and your pancakes suck."

"I don't know," I exasperated. "Don't you ever think about all the people down there? Like what they must be feeling right now? I mean … I know you probably know what they're feeling but like … it's terrible down there right now."

"Wrong answer," she smiled. "Try again."

I stared at her. I was exhausted, worried about Tick, had too many things floating in my head, and she wanted to play a game?

"Look. You can wallow in what you're feeling right now. No one's stopping you, but it's also not helping anyone. At all. You included." She stood up and walked towards me, feet tapping against the wood. She put the aviators back onto my face, hands lingering near my ears. I couldn't see the scar on the city anymore. I couldn't see the scar on her anymore. "Sometimes you just need to let things be. Wallowing isn't helping. But if you stick around, then that'll be helping."

"So I'm supposed to turn away from everything?" I whispered. "First you want me to walk away then you want me to stay?"

She smirked. "You're not as smart as I thought you were. You're still looking at the city, but you can't see what happened. So you just let it be, and help as much as you can. So just … stick around for a little longer and make sure something like this doesn't happen again. That or you can prove me wrong, you can prove that you're not just your name."

I mulled over what she said. She was right in a way. Not forgetting what happened, but letting it be and doing what you can. It still wouldn't help me sleep, but it was going to be a start. Mum would be proud, I'll make sure she is when I find her.

"Fine," I smiled.

She stood on her toes and kissed my forehead.

I stumbled back, putting my fingertips on my forehead. My breaths caught in my chest, every thought I had had been blown apart. "W-what's that for?"

"A promise that I'll be your Aviators. 'Cos trust me, I've seen enough people get lost in this shit." She walked towards me, raising a hand to me cheek and cupping my face. Her eyes caught mine, the blue was deep but dark, choking but inviting. She slapped me.

"Now what the hell's that for?" I hissed, rubbing my cheek.

She shrugged. "That's the punishment you get every time you get something wrong in one truth and one lie."

"You didn't tell me that!"

She laughed. "I don't need to. You were going to find out either way. Now back to the game. I love having a lot of money and I like having you around because you're entertaining."

" … You like having a lot of money – truth?"

She slapped me again.