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As for few the boys, they would have failed in their training to level up, making them obsolete and useless for whatever the Cardinal had planned.
I often searched for my older brother amongst them. It had been years since I last saw him, and there was little way of knowing if he were still alive or if he even looked the same, but that didn’t stop me from hoping.
The Exarch finished reading his scripture and then made the sign of a cross before giving the all-too-familiar signal to commence with the cleansing. Hendrix stepped forward, withdrawing a handgun from his waistband.
One of the guerrillas under his command did the same while another readied a canister of flammable liquid. As horrific as this was, I always found small comfort in the fact that these deaths were quick and merciful. Robbed of our lives or not, we were all going to die somehow.
Six people.
Six gunshots.
A single bullet was fired into the back of every bowed skull. The gun didn’t jam once. No one fought or pleaded for their lives. And really, what was the point? In the world we existed in, it had to be acknowledged that dead was often better. After all, this was our only way to true freedom.
As body after body silently hit the ground, I gripped the iron bars so tightly the pigmentation in my knuckles turned snow white. I paid no mind to the new trail of blood traveling slowly from my nose to my clamped lips, leaving it to drip down my chin.
“Look away, Star,” Claire pleaded from her pen, her voice cracking with emotion.
I didn’t listen. I couldn’t.
Just before Hendrix reached Dasia, she turned her head and peered at me from over her shoulder.
From so far away it could have been a coincidence, but I felt her stare, and I knew she could feel mine. She knew I was watching, and that’s all that mattered right then, even as my hands shook and my eyes burned.
She needed to die knowing that, no matter the space between us, she wasn’t alone. Her head was still turned when my view was cut off by Hendrix’s form. The final shot rang out and then he took a casual step back. My heartbeat slowed as I watched her body flop to the ground.
I felt the warmth of tears on my cheeks as her lifeless form was rolled into the pit dug specifically for this purpose, landing amongst the others. The canister was emptied, the disciple lit a match, and then it fell from his fingers and set everyone aflame.
Their bodies would burn, and the embers would remain for just a few minutes longer, turning the angel a sooty color as she wept for them.
It was a scene I had seen many times before. The memory was always imprinted on my brain, haunting me long after there was nothing left but ash and the stench of burnt flesh lingering in a smoke-filled sky.
This time was worse than the others because it was one of us, the core four. We had been here since we were taken from our parents. We’d always had one another. As each of us was branded with a permanent code of ownership, I was confident we always would.
From behind me, Marcy and Claire sobbed openly. My tears remained silent.
After shedding so many over the years, they had become more of an annoyance, an involuntary reaction I couldn’t always help. But that didn’t mean I was unempathetic, I’d simply gotten used to this. Winter had invaded my chest long ago and never left, slowly turning everything bitter and cold.
I glanced over my shoulder at the girls, wishing I could pull each into my arms and offer them a semblance of comfort. I had to turn away before their grief could spread to me.
Being somewhat numb to the tragedies we suffered allowed me to keep a clearer head, and at a crossroad between persevering and surrender, it was all-too-tempting to let sorrow and anguish consume me. But giving in would break the promise I made to my father before he was taken away, and I fully intended on keeping it.
The sound of whistling pulled my attention to the pathway that ran adjacent to my cage. Hendrix strolled by, his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed.
“Sweet dreams,” he called out, a sickening smile following the taunt.
I tried not to let the action bother me, going for indifference. I got hatred instead, fueling the anger that continued to simmer in my gut.
My rage was a toxin that conjured darkness, diminishing the small traces of light I’d once possessed. Sometimes these negative emotions were all I had, though. Without the hatred I'd have died long ago. When the nights were endless and empty, it was my only companion. It was the root of endless thoughts about escape and revenge.
I had spent many days locked in this cage, but I knew that wouldn’t always be the case.
I just had to wait a little longer and keep my wits about me.
I’d do whatever it took to survive this world, even if it meant burning the whole damned thing down.
Even if it meant making a deal with the devil himself.
CHAPTER TWO
