I can’t make out what they’re saying, but the force of their hand I’m staying down.
Where is she?My mind asks, but my voice carries.
There’s a muffled answer, but words aren’t translating.
As the haze of the blurriness fades, ringing still echoes. My legs start to unravel themselves from the ground. With every ache and pain, I move through it, powering every step. The Bronco’s on fire.
Obliterated.
Gone. No point in resurrecting it. The blazes start to get higher but the men surround the truck, putting out the flames.
It doesn’t take a genius to know who did this. And the sneaky bastards planned it during the trip to the foundation.
They know.
They know that we have Cedric or else they wouldn’t give us a signal.
My eyes finally adjust giving me full sight, but the one thing I can’t find is her. She couldn’t have gone far. She was in my arms and I tried to twist my body to brace for impact, but I didn't think it was enough.
I frantically look for her, but no luck. My pleas and shouts become agonizing almost, until the hand of the person comes into view. I know I shout,I can’t hear you, ringing in my ears.It’s Memphis who pulls out his phone, typing out a response.
Bronco is gone. Lottie and you fell, she’s passed out. D.R is handling her in the med bay.
She’s passed out, how much of the blast did she take?
This is all my fault.
I couldn’t underestimate them. They have improved over the course of time to the extent of explosives.
Where’s Finn? My thoughts circle back to him, he was watching.
Memphis hears my question as he types out another response.
Finn is with one of the ol’ ladies, he saw it. The boy is asking for his aunt.I turn back to the Bronco as the flames get smaller, and the smoke begins to fill the air.
Can you walk or do you need help?He shows me.
I signed forhelp.Memphis nods his head as he ropes my arm around his neck, helping me walk towards the steps.
As I push through the doors, a brunt force knocks the second wind out of me. A clasp of arms circling me, squeezing my body, I look down to see a head of red curls.
The ringing in my ears starts to fade, I can start to make sure of the words from his voice.
“... they rushed her off and they told me I couldn’t come in there. She’s gotta be okay. You gotta be okay. Because if we’re not okay...”
I shush him, wrapping my arms around him. I’ve never seen this boy cry, not even during the Christmas fight.
“Hey. We’re going to be okay.” I try to reason with him.
“Why would they do this?” he asks.
Cedric’s in the back corner, looking somber and guilty. He’s not at fault. He has no way of communicating with the outside world. He didn’t plan this, they already knew when to strike.
“Because we have someone they want and they send messages like this to get what they want.”
“That’s cruel.” he sniffles.
“I know. They’re ruthless like that.” I say, pushing through his hair.
