Chapter Four: All of The Fear

I made it to the end of the lawn before I was sure the Demi would kill me.

Lark swooped down. I dove out of the way. He hit the dirt with a whoosh of air, denting the soil.

“Don’t make me do this, human.”

I scrambled back. “You were like me, once.”

Lark paused and cocked his head. “Interesting. A reminder of what it feels like to be weak.”

It was hard to imagine that the thing under the armour had been a person once. The Demi walked with power, void of fear. It towered over me. And its strength alone made my body a play toy between its claws. The creature had the blueprint of a God.  And yet it wanted something from me.  

“Tell me how you became like Adrell," Lark said.

I shook my head. “This is just who I am.”

He raised a claw. “The throne will accept you injured. Only if you make me.”

I bumped into a concrete wall. Lark stepped forward. I covered my face with a hand. He screamed.

Poppy had jumped him. The Demi snatched at her. But she moved fast, dodging his hand, and then sinking her teeth into his neck armour.

Lark yelled and flung her forward. Poppy flipped through the air, landing in front of me. She hit the dirt on her feet and slid.

“Little devil,” Lark said, touching the blood on his neck. It crusted over his armoured gloves. “A conditional talent. The girl grows stronger with her want to protect you. A peculiar bunch, indeed.”

Dux ran toward us. She dragged Tom by the collar.

“G-g-g-guys!” Switch shouted. “W-w-we've g-got company!”

I pushed to my feet, using the concrete foundation as a support. My body shook with adrenaline.  It thudded through all the parts of me that hurt as if they had their own pulse.    

Lark and Dux turned to face the street.

Tag approached in white armour with his black sniper rifle raised.  The thorn unit followed behind him. Their guns were locked on us and a few of them had ripped clothing and others holes in their armour. Some of the group were wounded as well. They looked like they had been caught in an explosion.

“Lark, Dux. Fancy stumbling upon you on this fine day,” Tag said, cocking and aiming his gun at Dux.

Lark drew the cube from his hip into his palm. “You had one job.”

“I followed the plan,” Dux said.

"The girls are conditional."

"You're shitting me," Dux said.  

Tag grinned, too busy with his own thoughts to catch the conversation. “Risking a high-level talent so the crew could carry on with their run? Come on, Dux. The moment you were gone I figured it out. Batboy over there baited that Harkon to us.”

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“Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t make me laugh. Miran ‘told you’ about a place we just ‘had’ to loot, and you didn’t come along. You’re more curious than a damn freshie on spawn day. I should know.”

Dux blushed.

Tag chuckled. “So who wanted us dead. This chump?”

Lark sighed. “The Thorns have become more focused on staying alive than they are on winning.”

“‘’Stay alive, blah blah blah’,” Tag said, mimicking Lark. “You only got respect after you found that sword. You didn’t earn anything, let alone an opinion.”

Lark sighed. “I never liked you.”

“Formations boys,” Tag said, flapping his wings out.

The crew moved into position, surrounding us. I backed up against the concrete. Poppy pushed her back against my legs, facing the firing squad.

Tom and Switch stepped up onto the concrete foundation. We were cornered, with Lark and Dux in front.

“There’s a high-level talent amongst the freshies,” Dux said. “Don’t do this, Tag.”

“Try fooling me once, it’s fair game,” Tag said, aiming down the scope of his sniper. “Try again and the fool in me knows you’re full of shit.”

"It was a conditional talent,” Dux said. “That’s why we never noticed it.”

Tag shook his head. "This conversation is over."

We would die. There was no way two dozen guns could go off and we wouldn’t get hit. Poppy swore she would find and kill every one of them as she pressed against my legs. Tom tried to find a way out and ended up on his knees with his hands over his face. Hell had done a number on him.

Something about death took away the mask we held securely over our face.  If you really thought about death, you would see that it was just a moment of pain for a quick escape.  And in a world where you would respawn, the unknown factor was taken away.  

Even though I knew this, I still felt afraid.  Maybe it was something about pain that kept that fear alive.  Then again, it's also the possibility of ending up alone that terrifies us the most.  Sometimes being with people you don't trust, in Tom's case, was a stretch better than being by yourself. 

In my case, I had Poppy to stick around for.  We were bound together, whether by talent or choice.  

Lark, Dux, and Switch faced the guns. The fear showed in their eyes, yet they stood ready to fight.

“This is your last chance to surrender,” Lark said, extending the cube out. The black blocks stacked, forming a sword.

“You going to fight thorns with a black weapon?” Tag asked.

“Much like your guns,” Lark said.

Tag grinned. “Not everything is as it seems.”

He scratched the sniper rifle with the sharp tip of his glove. The matte black paint peeled, revealing a white interior.

Lark cocked his head. The sword broke apart, each square drifted out becoming an individual block in the air, no bigger than the center of a palm. One side of the block was coloured black and the other half was coloured grey.

Four blocks remained in front of Lark as a shield.  

“Not going to shield the others then?” Tag asked.

“I’m afraid I’m in the killing mood today.”

The drifting cubes hovered out, creating an oval shape around us. Each one rotated, showing its grey side to the crew.

“Grey Demi, what are the chances,” Tag cursed. “Give him hell!”

Gunshots burst to life. The cubes zapped out, one for each man.

I grabbed Poppy and dove to the ground. Tag burst up into the air. A grey cube zipped after him. His sniper rifle cracked with a shot. The bullet struck Lark’s cube causing an explosion.

Poppy and I were sent rolling down and across the grass. The cube zipped up and straight through Tag.

There were thuds of bullets on Lark’s armour. Men let out their final breath as cubes sliced like a hot knife through butter.

Then everything went quiet.

Tag slammed into the ground, dead. His rifle and white armour dematerialized instantly. A middle-aged man remained in the basic black pants and t-shirt, with his eyes staring aimlessly at the sky. Then he vanished.

Dux collapsed close to us. I stared into her fearful blue eyes as her body faded away. That moment felt like the closest we'd been since I met her.

Smoke hung in the air. I held Poppy against my chest. She looked up, blinking at the surroundings.

“What happened?” I whispered, not wanting to look.

“It’s good,” Poppy said.

“They’re gone?”

“Everyone is dead.”