-Chapter 10-
-POV Maria Jasper-
Out of the corner of my eye, I silently watched Madison talking with the Black man in a suit who was accompanying her son.
Sensing they were starting to whisper to each other, I pricked up my ears to catch their conversation.
Ever since she'd dared stab us in the back, I hadn't trusted her at all.
"So what's the plan?" the man in the suit asked.
"What plan?" Madison said, confused by his question.
'Or is she still pretending?' I thought, unable to set aside her betrayal.
'She's already proven many times that she's pretty good at hiding the truth and lying,' I added to myself.
Maybe it was paranoia on my part, but I had no choice but to become that way so we'd never get played again.
For my family's safety, it was now my duty to keep an ear out and be ready in case that devious woman tried to fool us again.
Deep down, if I'm perfectly honest, I knew there was also a big dose of resentment pushing this overcautiousness toward her, because I still couldn't swallow the fact that she'd decided to let us die without a shred of remorse, even after we'd grown closer this week.
'To think I apologized to her countless times, and she even told me it wasn't my fault, that we were similar.'
'I'm really such an idiot,' I swore, pushing away that pile of intrusive thoughts to focus on my task.
"Do you have a destination or a goal?" the man asked.
"We're heading east, into the desert. We should be safe there," she said, as if everything were already settled.
'Says who?' I thought, frowning, not liking her arrogance in trying yet again to impose her vision on the group when her status had plummeted drastically after we were rescued.
I almost stepped in, but didn't, because I was waiting for Calvin to be present.
Despite his… mistake, he'd been the most clear-sighted among us, and he still was.
'He's trying to make up for his mistakes,' I thought with a small sigh, feeling he'd changed deeply lately, before adding inwardly: 'Maybe the sun that lit up my life isn't dead yet.'
"I doubt it," the man said, shaking his head, unimpressed by Madison's answer.
"Then what do you suggest, Mr. Strand?" Madison said, brows furrowed, unhappy to see her 'authority' being questioned.
"Go west," said the man—who I now knew was named Strand—in a confident tone.
"What's to the west?" Madison asked, slightly defiant, not seeing what we could possibly do there—and if I'm honest, I shared her view.
'They'll bomb the whole coast; heading for the ocean is useless, unless…'
"I have a shelter on the water, and supplies. I was prepared," Strand said, answering my unspoken question perfectly.
'A boat,' I thought, then added in my innermost thoughts: 'If he's telling the truth, we could reach another city or maybe even another government-protected shelter.'
Madison gave him a brief, measuring look, then turned away without a word.
'She pisses me off,' I thought, still trying to hide my searing anger at her attitude.
Once outside the building, I looked at Ofelia—someone I hadn't spoken with much, but for whom I felt a bit of compassion because she'd lost her mother.
The poor girl stared fixedly at the piles of ashes and bones heaped up and charred by the soldiers, while tears slowly began to fall.
I felt a small pang in my heart, despite the fact she'd also tried to abandon us, and I started to reach out a hand to her.
"Let's go," William said, cutting off my movement and snapping me back to reality.
'He's been so cold since he found out they tried to abandon us, just like back then,' I thought, afraid of seeing the man who'd come back to me years ago—broken and depressed—reappear.
'But he's right: they're the ones who abandoned us, they're the ones who owe us, not the other way around,' I realized, walking past her without a second glance at the grieving father and daughter, hardening my heart.
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-POV Calvin Jasper-
Only a few minutes later I came out of the infirmary with two makeshift bags I'd managed to fashion out of sheets.
I'd stuffed them with all kinds of medical gear which, according to the doctor, would be useful to us, and I frowned when I saw the Salazars dragging their feet—then quickly understood why, seeing the tears and the mound of ashes by the big excavators.
Despite what they were going through, I felt no compassion, because like the others, they had abandoned us.
I wasn't happy about their misfortune… just indifferent.
"What's your name?" I asked the soldier who kept sneaking furtive glances at me, wondering what fate awaited him.
"Anthony," he said in a tone meant to sound confident, but the tremor in his voice told me everything I needed to know about how afraid he really was of me.
"Don't you have a last name?" I asked, slightly mocking, prodding him while signaling he hadn't given me his full name.
'As if I could guess it,' I thought, staring at him.
"Edwards. My name is Anthony Edwards," the soldier said, lowering his eyes to his uniform where his surname was stitched.
'Hmm, yeah, I could've guessed that,' I admitted silently.
"Okay, Anthony Edwards," I said, setting down my two bags once we reached the parking lot.
He stopped too and looked at me nervously, sensing his moment of judgment had come.
"I want to survive," I said, fixing him with a cold stare.
"So do I," he said, eyes dropping to my right hand, which had, in the meantime, retrieved my Glock.
I checked the chamber, then the rounds in the magazine, before lowering the gun hand and focusing again on the soldier in front of me, who was clearly wavering between running for it and dropping to his knees to beg for mercy.
I let a few seconds of pure tension tick by, then suddenly extended the pistol toward him:
"My father was a lieutenant in the army. The old Latino guy doesn't look like much, but judging by the way he holds a gun, he's trained—and it wasn't his first time using one. As for me—you've seen."
Anthony nodded cautiously, not understanding what was happening, or not daring to hope it was real. I went on:
"If you want to bail and face all this crap alone, be my guest. But if you'd rather stick with us—at least until we're safe—you're welcome."
At my offer, he was momentarily stunned and clearly didn't know how to respond, but I didn't have time for that.
'Incendiary bombs are on their way to turn us to ash,' I thought, dead set on getting the hell out as fast as possible.
"Make up your mind quickly—we don't have time to waste," I added, seeing him take his time thinking.
Giving him a weapon was a bit risky, because even though I'd maxed my Strength at the human peak, I hadn't maxed my Speed.
So I could only count on my basic quickness and reflexes to intercept any attack from him if he wasn't sincere and decided to take his shot at me.
'But if he is, I hit the mark and add a real soldier to our side,' I thought, aware that despite my father's experience and the old Salazar's, it clearly wasn't enough to protect us.
Beyond quality, what our group really lacked was quantity—enough people willing to get their hands dirty; men and women who could line up, increasing the number of targets for our enemies while reducing them for us.
'In other words, cannon fodder,' I thought.
An extra fighter whose safety I didn't have to worry about—someone who could accompany me on raids instead of always sending my father to the front with his prosthetic slowing him down—was a precious advantage.
'Having my father with me on raids would only distract me every second to ensure his safety.'
'Let's hope the corpses of the two men who were with him are still fresh in his mind—and, more importantly, that he won't try to play hero to avenge those two idiots,' I thought, waiting for his answer, ready for anything.
He took the pistol, looked me in the eyes for a few seconds—myriads of choices flickering in them—then finally sighed and clipped the weapon to his belt.
'At least he's not dumb,' I thought, pleased to have found my first "companion."
I nodded, satisfied with his decision, and motioned for him to take the lead.
'Just because you say we're allies doesn't mean I'm turning my back on y—'
BANG