Traitors

We got back to The Tunnel at least five minutes ago, but we're still sitting in Fierce's car. The silence isn't uncomfortable, I just wish he would say something to make it go away. He's been quiet all afternoon. I don't blame him, but I would've enjoyed the conversation. He reaches his hand up to the bridge of his nose and squeezes it.

"Are you going to be okay to continue burning the buildings?" Fierce finally mutters. I squeeze my eyes shut with a sigh.

"Fierce, I --" I turn my body to face him.

"Dammit, Detope!" He slams his hand on the steering wheel which startles me. "It was a yes or no question." I swallow hard.

"I need some time. I can't go to the third building now. Security will be too tight. It was a miracle I didn't get caught last night. I'm not even one hundred percent sure I wasn't caught. The police could be at my front door waiting for me to come home as we speak. You know I'm for the cause all the way, but don't send me out yet, Logan." I quickly suck in my bottom lip afraid he'll yell at me for using his first name.

It's not an enforced rule within The Tunnel, but we are supposed to address others by their last name unless they've said otherwise. Most people are fine with either, but there are some who only want to be addressed by their last name; one of them being Fierce. He made the mistake by telling me what his first name was which is the only defense I have on the matter if he were to ever get mad.

"Fine," he whispers, "I'll talk to Brestion and tell him not to rush you." He glances over at me. "C'mon. We got to get to training." He opens his car door and heads toward The Tunnel.

The training room is packed with half of the rebels. The other half are in the plant monitoring the area and checking to make sure we are still safe. I toss my water bottle into my cubby and pin my hair up into a ponytail. I see a hand shoot up in the air and wave me over. A smile glides onto my face as I run over to my partner and best friend, Azalia. The spunky blonde is always my training partner. Although, we barely do any training. We mostly talk while making it seem like we're busy.

"So Phoe, you spent all afternoon with Fierce," she wastes no time cutting to the chase, "did you have fun?" She giggles nudging me in the side with her elbow. I roll my eyes and take a swing towards her. She leaps back with her arms in the air. "Didn't realize I touched a rough spot."

She smirks and I throw my right arm towards her. She blocks it quickly and knees me in the side. I curl up and throw my body toward her planting my fist into her cheek. She grips her jaw and pops it back in place. Gabe struts into the room like he owns the place which distracts Lia from training. I punch her arm to draw her attention back to me. She whips her head toward me with a shocked expression.

"What?" She glances back to Gabe and tries to hide the smile on her face from me. "I'm sorry." She faces me attempting to focus. "I got distracted." She admits.

She lifts her hands up and throws a wimpy punch in my direction. I raise an eyebrow at her looking at her baffled. She swings her arms weakly making it easy to block. She launches her leg out at me hitting the top half of my thigh. I grab onto her foot and fling it back at her. She switches her arm positions going on the defensive. I swiftly jab my fists toward her making sure she can block them easily since she clearly isn't trying anymore. I crunch my knee up toward her stomach, but she anticipates it and blocks it with ease.

I feel a foot come from behind and kick my calf knocking me down to the mat. The breath in my lungs exits causing me to gasp for more air. I force my eyes open, but I should have known who took me down. Fierce stares down at me with his arms folded and disappointment written on his face.

"Detope, what did I tell you last week?" I roll my eyes groaning.

"Seriously? You're still on my ass about that?" I hiss from the floor.

"Your hair is too long. If you don't do something about it, I'll chop it off." He snuffs at me turning away.

"I'll chop SOMETHING off." I grumble softly.

"You wanna repeat that, Detope?" His voice growing in volume. Lia offers me her hand and I get up on my feet. "You wanna act tough?" He growls in my face pressing his nose against mine. "Let's see how tough you are."

He backs away readying his stance. I sigh in frustration lifting my arms already in defeat. His arms are on the defensive, letting me go first. How polite.

"Ladies first." I say with a smirk setting my arms to match how his are.

He snarls throwing his fists rapidly toward me. Fighting him isn't the same as it was before. He used to hold back especially when he was training me, but now he goes for the kill. I block three punches before he finally hits my jaw. I fumble back, but regain my balance. He swings toward me again, but I block it and send my foot to his stomach. He grips his side and glares at me with fury coursing through his body, the telltale sign he needs a cigarette. He charges at me full throttle. I duck down avoiding his arm, but he only grabs my ponytail and yanks me to the floor. I land on my back and I know I lost. He climbs on top of me and strikes a punch across my cheek. He goes for another punch, but he stops himself. Fierce stares down at me still appearing agitated.

"I think that's enough, Logan." A voice emerges from behind us. Quela. I hear a growl erupt from Fierce's throat. "I think you made your point, don't you?" He looks behind him and then back at me. He crawls off of me and storms out of the room. Quela walks over looking down at me. "Could you try not to piss him off when he's stressed out?" She offers me her hand and I take it. "If I were you, I'd get cleaned up and go home for the day. You guys can work this out later." I sigh heading over to my cubby and grabbing my stuff.

I head to the makeshift locker room and clean up my face the best I can. My lip is slightly split, but not terribly bad. I can pass it off as a chapped lip issue. I can easily cover up the bruise forming on the lower part of my jaw with makeup. I splash some water on my searing face and throw my jacket on. Tossing my bag over my shoulder, I head out the backdoor to go up stairs where I find Fierce sitting at the bottom puffing away at a cigarette. I glare daggers in his direction, casually walking past him.

"You're not going to talk to me?" Fierce sneers as I ignore him continuing up the stairs. "I guess not. Go on, ignore me. It's what you're good at." I clench my fist as I stop at the top of the stairs.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I hiss not turning around to look at him.

"It means," I hear him standing up to face me, "you refuse to listen to anything I say. Even when I was training you, you'd ignore my instruction." I whip around.

"That is not true." I bark, folding my arms across my chest. "You know damn well, I religiously listened to anything you had to teach me."

"And what about now?" He takes a step up. "Just because you've gotten better at combat doesn't mean you're an expert now. You still have a lot to learn."

"Clearly." I turn away from him. "So do you." I march away from him toward the bus stop down the street.

The white bus comes into view within minutes. It rolls up and lets the exhaust flow into the air. The door flings open and Harley the driver smiles down at me. I grip the railing and climb the three steps flashing him my bus pass. I trudge down the aisle throwing myself into a seat and resting my head against the cool window.

The great thing about this bus is Harley. He is a traitor as well, but in a different sense. He is far too old to actually be out on assignments, so instead he continues his actual job and also helps transport the fellow traitors into this part of town.

He drops me off down the street from my house. I mutter a thank you to him and make my way down the block. I feel utterly tired and worn out from the day. Quela was right, I needed to go home and cool off for the night.

I shove my house key into the lock on the door and force it open. The aroma of the house enters my nose smelling like pumpkin spice and sugar cookies. Mom yells greetings from the kitchen. I acknowledge her, but head straight for my room. I drag my feet up the stairs feeling too exhausted to even finish climbing them. I push open my door and have a wave of confusion wash over me. My brother, Travis, tilts his head with a odd smirk on his face.

"Hey sis," he squints his eyes at me, "what's up?"

"Why are you in here?" I drop my bag onto the floor. "I don't mind, but still, dude. Ask me first, okay?"

"Well funny thing is I was walking by your room earlier today when I smelled something funny." I tilt my head to the side. "Smelled a little like gasoline." I swallow hard, but knit my eyebrows together bewildered.

"I'm not sure why. I don't really smell anything, except for Mom's cookies downstairs." I walk over and rub his gingered curls. "Are you sure you're not just being paranoid?" I chuckle ripping the coat off my back. He stands to meet my gaze.

"You'll slip up one day and I'll be there." He snarls walking out of room, slamming the door behind him.

I let out a sigh flinging myself onto my bed. First, Fierce and now my brother? I guess conflict followed me home.