12.2
《Matthew》
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The crowd in the Hall goes silent as they watch with awe the image of Councilman Dove. The woman who'd heaped praises and swallowed her Sunshine Vitamin dry begins to cry. Councilman Dove focuses on me as though no one else matters.
The crying woman shoots to her feet, gives him a salute, smacks her chest so hard I think she might topple. Dove's gaze drips over her like liquid metal, like mercury edging closer to its next victim. She gapes, ready and willing to swallow whatever her Councilor might say next.
"Pr-praise Dove!" she howls emphatically. Her knees tremble. Tears stream down her cheeks. "Praise Dove! For He is Truth-sayer! The Truth will--"
"ELOHIM."
With one word from the Councilor's lips, the woman stills. The room stills. Dozens of eyes glow violet. Jaws go slack. Drool dribbles down chins, splattering like spring rain onto the tile floor. Eerie silence overtakes us.
Dove turns back toward me, smiling. It's the same smile he gives in all his press conferences and televised public outings, but much the way Izzer's smile died before it reached his eyes, so does Dove's. There's no love in his gaze, no sympathy or compassion. His eyes serve up fury, cold, impassive, the thing of nightmares.
My mouth goes dry.
"Now we can talk in private," he turns to the room and in another booming voice commands the crowd to disperse. All at once, people get to their feet and head toward the exit.
"You are not allowed in here," Dove calls from behind them. "Emergency dispensary maintenance. Return to your homes and get some sleep. You all look so very tired."
Dove's smile spreads like a disease across his dark skin after the room has been emptied save for myself, Matthew, his sister and the two guards who seemed unhampered by Dove's use of the trigger word. "I would have liked to meet in person, Ten, when you graduated, but I'm afraid circumstances tend to change in..." He rubs the stubble along his chin. "In unforeseen ways." He nods at Matthew.
Tears run over Matthew's cheeks as he continues to gaze at his sister's body lying motionless on the floor. Blood trickles down her forehead, giving her brown bangs a coppery tint.
"She's," Matthew trembles. He bites his lower lip. "Lyra needs help."
Dove waves lazily to one of the gunmen which prompts him to yank Lyra up by her collar. A fistful of floral patterned dress in his hand, the man drags Lyra behind him, the heels of her shoes clinking off the floor. Matthew winces as the man props her up against a nearby table leg, her chin resting on her chest. Blood continues to drip down her face, smattering the white petals of her daisies.
Matthew screams. "Please! Ple-please, help her!"
Lyra's eyes flutter open. "B-big brother?" A moan escapes her as she struggles to form words, her mouth opening and closing like a door on loose hinges. She manages a whimper before being able to utter, "It hurts."
Matthew claws the ground, reaching for the hem of her dress but the gunman ordered to watch him, rams the butt of his gun into Matthew's back. He howls in pain and folds forward. Again, Dove seems only concerned with me and that singular focus makes me want to piss myself from fright.
"We know about the Collective."
Lines of Dove's digitized face blur before resharpening to form the square-jaw of our nation's leader. Guess the signal's not that strong. "They like to think they are rebelling, but we have known about them for years. Sometimes it's best to let people play out their war games. Helps rid them of excess energy." He says this as though Della and the others were over-active children in need of added playtime. I'd only been with them for a few days if that, but there was nothing childish about their iron determination to blow up everything FUA related. If anyone could topple the government, Della had the best chance.
I chuckle and this makes Dove's forehead crease. "Taking credit for something you didn't do," I hold up a finger. "Pretending as though you were in charge all along," I raise another finger. "Making yourself seem more all-powerful than you actually are," a third finger stabs at the air. "That's Councilman rhetoric at its best. I couldn't delude myself that much," I shrug. "Maybe I wasn't fit to be your replacement."
The image of Dove flickers and in those milliseconds when his picture has faded, his smile dies. When he reappears, his entire expression has changed to one of a person who's decided the time for games has passed. "My Birds are in this sector," I gulp. "Waiting on my order. You gather the rest of the Liars and surrender, and maybe," his face tightens, "Maybe we'll reconsider your admittance into the Facility. The Council is not without mercy. Perhaps if we still sense worth in you, you can continue your training. Monitored, of course."
Despite the rising terror swirling in my gut, I manage to project calm. Or at least that's what I'm hoping. "You already weighed our shits," I crack a grin and Dove's expression worsens. "And we escaped from you then. What makes you think we wouldn't escape under harsher conditions?"
Dove leans forward, his gaze tearing into me, clawing at my flesh, ripping away bone and muscle, until he's bared my core. I can't help myself and take a step back. This seems to satisfy him as he smiles. "If you could be reduced into your most basic parts, reformed and re-educated, molded in the ways of the Truth and the FUA, you would make a marvelous Councilor."
"I'm sure I would, but you won't ever get to see that happen."
He snickers. "You really think you get to choose how your life plays out? You are Council property and if -- if --I decide you are anything else, you will weep and praise me for my benevolence. If I decide you unworthy and command my soldiers to put a bullet in your skull, you will do much the same, and praise me for my mercy."
Footsteps sound against the floor. Dove's eyebrows raise as Matthew appears. "You-you said if I helped the El Accosta, you'd let Lyra go." Matthew turns back to his sister. Her eyes have closed as her chest heaves with another labored, wet breath. "She's injured," he fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "And needs immediate medical attention. Please--" He scrambles to his knees, folds his hands over his heart. "Plea-please help her."
A bored look smothers the heated anger in Councilman Dove's gaze. "Lyra hurt herself, Matthew," he says, voice void of emotion. "If she had only done what had been expected of her, she wouldn't be in this condition. Whatever befalls her is of her own accord." Matthew slumps forward and slams his fists onto the ground. "This is her Truth. You must let her face it alone."
Matthew snarls. Saliva drips onto the floor. Teeth bared, he takes on a feral look, his hands outstretched, fingers stretching like claws ready to gouge out the eyeballs of everyone present. A low, guttural growl I thought humans incapable of making rises from the depths of his throat.
"I knew it," he hisses as he gets to his feet. A click fills the room as one of the men pulls back on his gun's hammer. The other has his weapon, training it on Matthew. Matthew cackles, his voice raw and coarse. He moves and undoes the top button of his shirt so the collar relaxes. "I knew you'd go back on your word." He turns toward me. The fury in his eyes is enough to make the sun cower from inadequacy. "Rumors say they drug us. Use mind control to get their way. There any truth to that?" He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. "Is there any truth to this world?"
I take a step toward him. "They do," I say. "It's in the Sunshine Vitamin and to a lesser degree, in the water."
Matthew nods at me and smiles. His hands undo the upside-down Dove pin. "My sister's all I have." With tears in his eyes, the pin clasped in his hand, he looks up at the ceiling, the smile serene and steady on his face. "At least we'll die together."
He lunges toward the two men with guns. They pull their triggers and stains of red blossom across Matthew's shirt. He turns to me, amid the chaos, that smile yet to be chased from his face, and tosses the pin my way. "Press it," he mouths just as a bullet buries itself into his skull. He collapses to the ground. His outstretched hand lying inches shy of the hem of his sister's dress, blood splattering the petals of her printed daisies.
Quickly, I grab the pin. Just as Councilman's lips begin to move, to push more lies from his mouth, I push the pin. The head of the dove gives way under the pressure and an explosion sounds. The ground rumbles under my feet. The glass doors are blown inward, littering the two guards with glass shards. They go flying in the upheaval, limp bloodied bodies soaring across the room like rag dolls.
The blow back is enough to send me flying too and I slam into the back wall, the glass eye of the projector shattering beneath my shoulder blades. Dove's image vanishes. Pain overloads my nerves. I twitch on the ground, momentarily stunned as cloud rises all around me, obscuring my vision. My hearing cuts in and out.
"-en?"
"-en? Over."
"Ten? Can you-"
Blood fills my mouth and sloshes around on my tongue as I try to form words. When they spill from my mouth, a heavy accent clings to them, making my voice unrecognizable. "-ine," Each breath I take causes pain to ripple over my chest. "I'm fine." I glance at the debris where the Dispensaries stood like polished soldiers. The corpses of Dove's men drape over the rubble like flesh-colored blankets, bruised and pulverized, glass shards piercing skin.
"Ten, what happened?"
I gather my breath and bring my hand over my mouth to stop myself from inhaling too much smoke and debris. "Set up. Council. Birds of Prey here. Need to escape."
I place weight on my bad foot, and find, that compared to the rest of me, it doesn't feel all that terrible. I make my way to the front of the building, where the wall's been ripped to shreds. Deafening screams sound from outside. Through the cloud of dust, I spot two pairs of concerned green eyes, tears welling in both. I manage to smile, though the sensation causes my cheek to throb. Relief washes over me knowing they were safe.
Tujo's arms stretch toward me. Then Lilly's. Quint's arms cut through the debris like knives. Lastly, there are Marava's hands, red nails gleaming like rubies. They all grab a piece of me, arm, shirt, hand, and pull me forward.
I pat Tujo's head as I notice tears running down his reddened cheeks. "Hey," I say. He looks up at me, blinking furiously, trying with all his might to stem the flow of waterworks. "It's not exactly the apocalypse, but it was pretty bad."
Trembling arms form around my waist. "I didn't mean--"
I return his embrace. "I know."
He stares up at me, and while he's just a few inches smaller than me, right now, he looks like a boy in my arms, scared, small and frail. I smile again, this time bigger, broader, which makes my cheek hurt all the more, but I can manage. Tujo pulls away from me, his gaze uncharacteristically sheepish, and despite the dirt covering his face, spots of red, like ripened tomatoes, color his cheeks.
I pat his head, ruffle his hair. "I guess you're not mad at me anymore." His blush deepens as his foot finds a piece of brick to kick across what had been the Hall's courtyard. I chuckle. "And all it took was for me to get blown up. Let's hope I don't piss you off again."
Tujo's head snaps to attention. "I wasn't-"
I grab his hand, which is, like the rest of him, surprisingly small in this moment, and drag him over a heap of rubble. "With my mouth," I give him a squeeze, "I don't think Della's got enough grenades to keep blowing me up every time I cause trouble."
Lilly smiles, takes her brother's other hand, and interlaces their fingertips. She gives him a goading nudge to the ribs. "Big brother..."
"I'm sorry." Tujo harrumphs. Unable to resist the urge, I ruffle his hair again.
The last of the sun fizzles out as night overtakes the sector. Street lamps blink on, illuminating the side street. "I always wondered if they recreated stars," I say. The twins blink at me in unison. "Guess I'm about to find out, but first," I turn to them all, even Marava. "How about we get the hell out of here? I've had enough of almost dying."
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