Molly

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In this episode of Moot, we’ll cover such riveting topics of why I give zero fucks what Barry thinks. I have a dark moon I’m more than happy to show him. Being realistic has nothing to do with being unhappy. I’m not unhappy. I mean, I’m not happy. I simply exist. I rinse and repeat each day. When I’m angry, I punch things. When I’m hungry, I eat. When I’m tired, I sleep. I just am. It’s nothing extraordinary. Aside from my persistent addiction, along with occasional feasting on potential inductees, my life doesn’t deviate from the path laid out before me. It never has. Not even as a human. As a Sumair, I’m far more stubborn and rebellious, yet I don’t colour far outside the lines. I push so far as Phelan allows, but that’s it. Once he erected the boundaries by beating the shit out of me, things changed. I’m more than capable of learning lessons, hard or otherwise.

“The fuck are we supposed to do with you exactly?”

Barry shrugs.

“We have to keep him away from Tyler,” Connor reiterates, as though I didn’t catch the gist at the very least.

“And Phelan,” I mutter.

“I’m not afraid of Phelan,” Barry claims bravely.

“You should be,” I warn him.

“Why?” Barry poses. “Are you afraid of him?”

“I didn’t used to be,” I admit.

I wasn’t even afraid of him after he stomped me a few rungs down the ladder. It’s the looming berserk bus I fear. For him and Connor too.

“If you’re afraid he’ll finish the job the Tribunal started, think again,” Barry offers. “They’re in there trying to force something out of Sheyla she doesn’t want to give them. They aren’t getting it if she knows they have me.”

“What makes you think she knows?”

“Why do you think Brody dumped me so fast?” He rolls his eyes. “He’ll make sure she knows.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know,” he hedges. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“You might be exterminated.”

“I’d die for her,” he declares.

“No one’s worth dying for.”

“She is.”

“I think you’re right,” Connor agrees.

“I think you’re both fucking morons.”

I still can’t see how she deserves anything more than a punch in the face. Maybe a throat hug. Possibly a cunt kick. This red carpet they’re laying down for her? Meh. I’d use that shit to roll her up in, then slurp the Solathair out of her. Delicious bitch burrito.

“Don’t you know what she can do?”

“She can light things on fire,” I deadpan. “Big deal.”

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“That’s not the big deal,” Barry counters. “Brody didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Barry looks to Connor. “He didn’t tell you?”

Connor looks confused. Barry laughs a full belly laugh rattling my ear drums.

“She cured them.”

“Cured who?”

“Cure probably isn’t the right terminology,” he backpedals.

I sneer.

“Well, you knew she couldn’t reconnect Mel and Ryan, right?”

I stare blanks. Connor draws closer, enamoured by every word coming from this fuckwit’s mouth. Barry scrunches up his brow as if that’s somehow consolidating the words in his mind.

“Spit it the fuck out,” I hiss.

He blows out a breath. “Okay, so when we had our big come together moment, Ryan and Mel connected.” He waggles his brow. Fuck, what a douche. “Ryan wouldn’t cut the connection. He couldn’t. See, Mel is his long lost love, the first Sumair he converted. Except he didn’t know he converted her at the time. Thought he killed her.” Swear to fuck, these people and their skeletons are absolutely unreal. “Anyway, he couldn’t cut the connection, so Sheyla had to do it. Only, when she did it the cord frayed. She couldn’t get it back together. We needed help. That’s how we ended up with the Amazon Coterie. They have a Fire Solathair, Akantha, who’s an accelerant. They thought she’d be able to help them strengthen the fusion, you know? Turns out, the strength of the fusion wasn’t the problem. The problem was the strength of the snip. Sheyla vaccinated her. Or immunized her. They aren’t sure which. No idea if it’s permanent. Regardless, Mel’s human now.”

Sheyla’s been experimenting with her power ever since she found out her friends, boyfriend included, were Sumairs. If what this prick’s saying is true, it means Barry’s blockade kept the Tribunal from figuring out one of Sheyla’s gifts involves severing the Sumair connection. She’s a ten step recovery process condensed to a single step—incinerating the residual energy causing the craving. She must’ve fucked around and found out, permanently breaking the bond between Ryan and Mel. She cured Mel of her addiction.

“The fuck you mean she couldn’t connect them back together?” I volley. “Why would they even try something so dangerous? A Solathair giving energy to a Sumair is standardly a death sentence. I acknowledge her giving energy happens. I’ve seen it. Others though?” I scoff. “What kind of messed up experiments are you idiots running down there in your little protective bubble?”

“Oh, she’s been doing augmentation assists,” he casually mentions.

My brow hits the ceiling. “The fuck?”

“Oh yeah.” He smiles broadly, his dimples like two black holes eating his entire face. “She buffers transfer. You know how she supplemented Connor? She can help others augment without them dying.”

Fuck me, maybe Connor was right. She helped him too, in a different way. She eliminated his urges, so the addiction was manageable. She also fed him and stopped the feeding when it got to be dangerous for her. And, she did chuck his ass to the back of the berserk bus line. Holy fucking shit. Not only can she feed us, but she can help any Solathair feed a Sumair, which opens up a whole world of possibilities for both sides. No wonder the Tribunal is wooing her. If they control the food supply, they control the world. The one thing both sides have in common is a need to feed.

“What else has she been up to?” Connor asks quietly.

Barry shrugs. “Not much. Just trying to wake her Sumair mom up.”

I blink rapidly.

“You didn’t know? Sheyla’s mom is a Sumair. She converted her at birth. Feels an exorbitant amount of guilt over it. Poor girl. Hey, she finally got to see her eyes for the first time and everything. She didn’t stay awake though. Ryan says it’s something to do with her needing a constant fire fuel supply to keep her consciousness in her body.”

I can’t process it. The news is too much. Sheyla, Ms. Participation Trophy is everything they’ve claimed her to be. She can cure all of us. Never before have I rued the change. I transitioned into my new life better than anyone could’ve hoped, especially considering I wasn’t chosen for it. There were no other options, but as I sit in my stone room, with Barry and Connor looking at me with their big, stupid eyes, waiting for me to say something, I’m at a loss for words. I have no words. My sauce shooter is jammed all to fuck. Nothing can explain the plethora of emotions launching out from my chest, where the darkness has kept them subdued. Not even Tyler’s tethers can block my brain from the possibility of freedom. My Sumair body isn’t mine. I’m a prisoner in my own skin. I want these shackles off worse than anything. If she can direct her shears, can she cut me free from the Sentry without vaccination? Is it worth the risk to have her try?

Fuck, settle down Hopeful Harriet. She probably won’t even make it out of Sheelin’s eyeball. Reckon we’ll just have to wait and see.