Fear Itself

I rushed out of the alley and quite literally bumped into Casper Collins, who stumbled forward with a grunt. “Goddamn, your highness, if you weren’t royalty, I’d tell you to watch yourself, but—“ His voice cut off when he stared me, his eyes wide with realization. “Oh man, you ain’t s’posed to be here. Oh man, Dean’s gonna be madder than… than… man, he’s just gonna be pissed.”

“Sh!” I quickly hushed him, showing him the palms of my hands to calm him down. “Which is exactly why you’re not gonna tell ‘im, Cas,” I said slowly. “Right?”

He nodded slowly back at me. “Right,” he repeated, drawing out the word. “Why’re you smirkin’ like that?” he asked warily. “With all due respect, your majesty, I dunno if I like that face very much.”

“You know, Casper, I don’t think the League got our message the first time.” My smirk widened. “Whaddaya say you grab me a megaphone and hoist me up on our dearest dictator’s statue so we can tell ‘em one more time?”

A wicked grin quickly replaced the look of fear on Casper’s blood-stained face, and he gave a hearty laugh. “Alright, Queen Cassidy, alright!” His laughter boomed as usual. “Lemme grab you a mic,” he chuckled. “Gotta make sure the peasants hear ya loud and clear.” When he turned and walked a few feet away, I noticed a badly-drawn bald eagle decorated the back of his helmet.

He met me back at the base of the statue, megaphone tucked under his arm. “Ready?” he asked. On the count of three, he gave me a boost and gave me support to climb up on Conor Kennedy’s solid silver shoulder. The megaphone clicked, and feedback shrieked through the air. Rows of militiamen approached from over the barricade. He announced into the megaphone, “Attention: the future president of Earth has the floor.” Grinning, he tossed it up to me, and I was for more focused on catching it than the number of heads that had likely turned in my direction, two of which I certainly knew wouldn’t be excited to see me.

I clicked the megaphone on, bracing myself for the hissing feedback again. “Good afternoon, soldiers and citizens,” I greeted them. “We are the Brotherhood.” I paused. The militia did not waver. “This is your last chance. We stand in solidarity against the League. This is our strike against the elitist regime and the wealthy one percent. The League has yet to realize the most important thing: without the masses, they are nothing. They depend on us. What are your priorities? Do you really want to support a broken system? Join us, and we can teach the League a lesson they will never forget.” I waited for a response, but I was met with silence. I released the button on the megaphone and sighed. “It’s a shame,” I sighed as I dropped the megaphone back down to Cas. “I was kind of hoping we could let them live.”

Casper shrugged. “Hey, man, you tried, at least you tried.” His eyebrow quirked when he looked up at me. “Hey, you got a grenade launcher up there. Here.” Cas reached into his backpack and tossed me an explosive. “Stick that in the bottom barrel,” he told me. I did as instructed and pulled the trigger. An excited holler erupted for Casper’s throat. “Let the games begin!” Thankfully, he was focused enough to catch me when the recoil knocked me off the statue.

I climbed back to my feet just in time to see Dean and Avery both rushing over me. Dean stared at me in disbelief. Avery just shook his head and heaved an audible sigh.

“Knew you’d show up,” he grumbled. “Just thought you’d be earlier.”

“Nice to see you too, Mumbles,” I greeted him with a chipper smile. Dean’s face was so contorted between a mix of shock and frustration that I gave him a pat on the cheek before I sauntered right on past him, taking position at an open spot at the barricade, preparing my gun for fire. Dean rushed up beside me, taking the other spot.

“Blondie, what in the hell do you think you’re doing? I asked you to stay put.” He prepped beside me, which told me that he may have been mad, but I was here, and that was that. He couldn’t do anything about it now. Besides, he could be as mad as he wanted, and I still wouldn’t have gone back.

I looked up to him with a smile, and I laughed under my breath. “Muscles, wasn’t it you that said we were doing this together or not at all?” He sighed, and he tried to hide the gentle smile by turning his head. I’d seen it anyway. I took his hand and squeezed. “You ready?” I asked.

He squeezed my hand right back and leaned in for a kiss. “Always.”

Barely a minute passed before the gunshots started. Bullets tore through the top of the barricade, and anyone who straggled behind was gunned down pretty quickly. Those who were fast enough surged toward the front and took their places. Cas crouched beside me, gritted his teeth as he fired into the lines of militia. Grunting rang out from the other side, but even more came from behind us. I paused to reload my weapon, but from the corner of my eye, I saw figure on the ground, bleeding from the leg, and my heart stopped dead in my chest.

“Mumbles!” I shrieked. Metal thudded against the ground. My gun must have dropped. Didn’t matter now. Wouldn’t matter later. What mattered was that Avery needed help. I skidded to a halt in front of him. My boots tracked bloody footprints the whole way. I knelt at his side and immediately started looping my arms around him. “C’mon,” I grunted, trying to lift him. “We gotta go, Mumbles. We’re gonna get you out, don’t worry.”

I began to lift him, bolstering him with my arms so he wouldn’t fall or stumble. We were almost there, almost up. “See, Mumbles?” I laughed breathlessly. “We just gotta—“ Suddenly, there was pain. It started as pressure on the right side of my chest. Something cracked, like somebody had reached in and snapped a bone clear in half. My body began to shake and falter, sending both Avery and I crashed back onto the ground. I let out a loud cry, a cry of sheer pain, even though I didn’t land on the side that was burning now like somebody had lit my insides on fire.

“Princess.” Avery’s voice was rasped and hurried, almost frantic. I’d never heard him like that. “Princess, you—you’re bleedin’.” He wrapped an arm around me and held me close. My mouth began to fill with something thick and warm, something metallic. I didn’t realize it was blood until it oozed out and stained Avery’s shirt. “Dammit,” he grunted. “Larson,” he croaked. “Larson.” Eventually, he just whistled nice and loud, but it made my ears ring. Things were dizzy now. People ran on angles. Things looked upside down. Where the hell was I?

The buildings and the sky began to spin. Avery’s hand patted gently on my cheek. “Princess,” he grumbled. “Eyes open, Princess. Keep ‘em open.” I wanted to tell him okay, wanted to nod, but I couldn’t do anything. I opened my mouth and more blood spilled out. “Dammit,” he swore under his breath. “Hey, Princess, remember when you hated me?” He talked fast. Why was he talking so fast? Didn’t sound right, sounded a little like he had echo. He was saying everything three times, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why.

“No,” I managed to wheeze. I coughed and sputtered more blood, gasping for air. “Couldn’t…hate you.” I gulped, swallowing and gasping again. “Ever.” Things stopped hurting so bad, which was nice, but I was heavy, so terribly heavy… Avery reached down and pulled a gun from my holster. The barrel brushed against my thigh. He must’ve seen someone bad coming, since he fired. He fired a few times. Then, I wasn’t with him anymore. Somebody else had grabbed me, and even though I wanted to scream, I couldn’t even find the air to breathe.

“Don’t worry, Tali,” Larson’s voice echoed. It bounced around in my skull for a bit until it made sense. “Garrett’s got you. He’s going to get you to Dean. Everything’s fine.”

Time sped forward. Colors blended together. Soon, I was passed off into Dean. Couldn’t see him, but the faintest hint of cologne was recognizable. “What the hell happened—“ Dean began to snap, but he groaned under his breath. “Never mind, I’ve got her.” The ground was moving, or maybe that was us. Didn’t really know, but the background rushed around us. The buildings didn’t even look like buildings. They looked like lots of bright and flashy lines. “Blondie,” Dean said. “Blondie, look at me.” Couldn’t see his face. Didn’t look like him at all. If it wasn’t for his voice, I wouldn’t have known.

“Stay with me, babe,” he continued. He put me on the ground now. Still couldn’t breathe right. Even laying still, I couldn’t find the air. It was like it wasn’t there at all. Almost felt like being underwater. I wasn’t suffocating. I was drowning. Dean rummaged through a gray blob. He pulled something out of it. He cut straight through the vest, tore that off. Cut through my shirt, tore that off too. Then, there was somebody else. They rushed in from above and knelt at my head.

“She’s turnin’ blue,” they said. Who was that? They sounded familiar, but it wasn’t somebody I had known for long.

“I can see that, Dad. Thank you.” Landon. That was Landon.

“Not to be rude, but I don’t think this is the time,” Landon replied calmly. I laid under him choking on my own blood. “Do you have a syringe in there?”

“No. Don’t have much.” Landon asked if he could look, and he rummaged through the bag before exclaiming with epiphany.

“Perfect,” he laughed. “This’ll do nicely. Here.” No words, just a brief moment of silence before something sharp was jabbed into my chest. Suddenly, the air came back. I lurched upward and gasped. Landon caught me before I fell back. “There we go!” My chest ached, but I could breathe. A sharp pain in my side left my wincing and gritting my teeth, groaning. Landon laid me gently back against the ground. “Come, dearie,” he beckoned softly. “Take my hands.” I had no reason to trust him, but I took his hands anyway. I didn’t think he had any intention of upsetting me, not right now.

“They got your ribs pretty good, Blondie,” Dean assured me. “I’m sorry. This is gonna hurt, but you’ve gotta hold still.” Both his hands pressed down on my right side, and a jolt of pain shot through my body, leaving me groaning and sobbing, clutching Landon’s hands for dear life.

“What’s it look like?” Landon asked quietly, like I wouldn’t hear him even though I was right there.

“We’ve got about two minutes,” Dean mumbled, taking a blood soaked towel off of my chest and tossing it aside. “Gotta move fast.”

Landon nodded and turned back to me. “I think I owe you an apology,” he said.

“Right now?” I wheezed.

“I should have given you the locket in the first place,” he explained. “It was rightfully yours. Your mother left that for you, and I was being selfish.”

“What was she like?” I asked. I winced at the feeling of something clanging around inside of my body, between my broken ribs. Didn’t care so much. Something about Landon’s story was far more enthralling than the pain in my side.

“Your mother?” A gentle smile crossed his face. “She was lovely. I met her when I snuck into a class at her university. It was in astrology, I believe, which had nothing to do with her major at all—“

“She wanted to be a talk show host… right?”

Landon shook his head. “No, love. An investigative journalist. Your mother wouldn’t have settled for something like television. She was a truth-seeker, you know. Witty, intelligent, and fair.”

“Was she brave?” I inquired breathlessly. Something moved inside of my chest. Something small but dense. The hole in my side felt empty now, and the burning subsided. I always imagined my mother was brave. Landon seemed like he would tell me the truth, not like my father. Even though Landon had acted like a royal jerk, he was honest. I would give him that.

“She was as brave as she was beautiful,” Landon mused. “She was like something out of a story book—the lovely Amy McQueen. She was everything good and light in this world, a warrior in every sense of the word. She was a truly perfect specimen of human being, even with that nasty temper of hers.” He chuckled under his breath. “And you’re just like her.”

“How do you know that?” I wearied.

“Because I can see her in you.”

Tears stung my eyes, and I wanted to laugh, but even moving was excruciatingly painful. “There,” Dean murmured. My vice grip on Landon’s forearms loosened as Dean finished sealing the wound. “You okay, Blondie?”

“Peachy,” I chuckled softly, careful not to move any other part of my body.

He sighed with relief as he leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Dad, can you get her to the base for me?”

“Absolutely,” Landon assured him. “I’ll take the backroads as a precaution.” He cradled me in his arms and stood up. Dean followed suit and wiped a tear off my cheek.

“I’ll see you soon, Blondie,” he told me, but I didn’t know if I believed him.

“Do you promise?” I asked.

“Swear on my life, babe,” he promised. “Rest up.”

I spent the walk about asking Landon all about my mother, and he told me everything I ever wanted to know. He told me about her habits, her favorites, and even that I talked just like her. Somewhere in the lapse of time, I fell asleep, and when I woke up, Dean’s chest was pressed up against me back, rising and falling with his breaths.

“Go back to bed, Blondie,” he mumbled against my hair. “Everyone’s okay.”

This time, I did believe him. Whether it was just comfort or if was a side-effect of the pain pills, I drifted back to sleep faster than I imagined, sleeping like none of this ever happened, like all of this had just been a terrible dream. Now, it was over. It was all over.

We’d won.