Darsal:
THE URGE TO GO TO THE STREAM IS IMMEASURABLE. A MONTH, THEY PREVENTED ME FROM GOING. NOW, ASKING me to wait is torture. I stand as still as I can, being shackled to Zak. He seems to be puzzled. He has a good reason to be. General Sanderson is not the type of person to just let you off for good behaviour. I stop moving. It’s been a month since Zak heard about Carrie. He’s been smart enough not to bring it up. I don’t know if he forgot or not, but I can only hope so. Why would he tell his father now? I look at him for a long moment. Is he acting?
“You tell him?” I whisper so quietly I don’t know if he heard.
I hope he won’t know what I was talking about. It would mean he has forgotten. He gives a slight shake of his head. He remembers. My hopes sink along with my excitement. General Sanderson looks up from behind his desk.
“Darsal, I permit you to leave the campus whenever you wish, with a few conditions. Do you follow so far?” I nod, “Rule number one: You can go whenever, other than during curfew. Two: You must alert either your trainer or me. Three: When away from the campus, I must shackle you to Zak, at all times. You have been on good behaviour, so I’m letting you off the hook a little,” he says with a smile.
Had I not grown up with the Guardians, I wouldn’t have noticed the brief glint in his eye. Something was up. Mischief floated in the air. His words prove it.
“Oh, one more thing Darsal,” again, that smile. Something is wrong.
It’s fine, Darsal. Zak won’t snitch, right? You guys have a deal. You can run away and reach Carrie before General Sanderson can. We’re good.
And then all my thoughts crush with General Sanderson’s words.
“And just to keep you anchored to the Scriptios, I’ve kept you loyal. And who would be better to help me than our very own Carrie,” he says as they push a young girl into the room.
They tore her dress, and blood is oozing from a cut across her face. It has been seven months since I have seen Carrie, but it’s undeniably her.
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My veins become unnaturally warm. A faint glow surrounds my body. Rage fills my chest. I lunge for Carrie, but a guard grabs me by the collar. I whirl around, punching him so hard it makes a dent in his helmet. I accidentally jerk Zak into me from the handcuffs.
“Carrie!” I yell, voice raw.
“Darsal, please, no,” he whispers his plea in my ear, but I don’t listen.
Nothing matters anymore other than Carrie. The guard falls to the ground, unconscious. I punch and kick every guard who comes after me. It’s almost as if I’m invincible. I grab a guard’s head and smash it into the wall so hard that it makes a helmet-shaped dent. I accidentally pull Zak into the wall with the handcuffs. I bite someone’s hand who’s grabbed my arm, kneeing him in the crotch.
Before I can reach Carrie, four guards have my arms and legs pinned together. They tie me with a rope, but all I need to do is a glance at Carrie.
Heat pumps through my veins until it burns me from the inside out. I don’t know how it happens; it is supernatural; there is a flash as I struggle against the ropes, and they fall to the floor, burnt to ashes.
All the guards stop and gape at the burned ropes lying on the floor. Zak winces at the heat travelling through the handcuffs. He shoves me up against the wall, putting an arm against my throat, but not to where he’s choking me.
“Darsal, please. They’re going to kill you. They’re going to kill you,” he breathes, panic filling his voice, but only so I can hear, “Then who’s going to help Carrie? Darsal, I need her alive just as much as you do.”
I don’t know what he means. What does Carrie mean to him? Even though I don’t understand, I stop struggling.
Guater, my trainer, who was watching me struggle, chains me to a metal pole against the wall. Zak looks at me, pity displayed on his face.
The room is silent. The General smiles evilly at me.
“What do you want, General? I’ll give it to you, but just let her go!” I cry, knees buckling under me.
If I hadn’t raised her, I wouldn’t see it. But Carrie’s on the verge of tears. She clenches her jaw, and she only glares at General Sanderson. The Guardians have trained her well. Never would anyone know the fear behind those eyes. Carrie looks up at me, but her eyes aren’t what I’m used to. They’re reluctant to trust me again. She wasn’t the innocent child I have left behind...left behind.
And then I realize it. She’ll hate me just as much as I hate the Guardians for sending my mother away. Except that I’ve done it on my account. I stare at the young, broken girl’s face. I can’t take it anymore. I can almost feel my life break from the pain and hopelessness. Tears stream down my face. I can’t look at Carrie anymore.
“I’m sorry, Carrie,” I say between sobs, collapsing to the floor.