Convergence - The Last Science #2.1 - In Plain Sight

B2: Chapter 12 - The Emerald City (Part II) - III

  "Do you want me to fight?" Natalie asked carefully, feigning being slow from her injuries. She just needed a few more seconds. Just to make sure. Memories of Rachel floated through her mind, shouting at her to defend herself in a street full of fear and rage.

  I didn't want to do this. They made me. I didn't have a choice.

  "Shit, how hard did you fuckin' hit her?" Tattoo-face asked Door-guy.

  They were going to kill you. These guys are going to kill you. If you want to live, you have to fight back.

  "It wasn't that hard!"

  I don't want to die.

  "I'm okay," Natalie said. "I'm thirteen though."

  "What?"

  You have to kill.

  "I'm not eleven years old. I'm thirteen."

  Tattoo-face looked confused, as did the rest of them. It didn't matter anymore though. Natalie had more than enough time to finish what she'd started.

  She dropped down to one knee. She'd gathered up energy for minutes, everything she could muster, along with the energy in the gemstone she'd pulled out of her jacket pocket. The stone wasn't the right kind for the spell she was about to use, but it was still energy. It disintegrated into dust between her fingers.

  She flung out her palm, fingers pointing forward, and shouted the last part in the spell. It tore at her lungs and throat as it came out, leaving her mouth raw, louder than she'd ever shouted before. Her entire body felt it leave in a rush of blood and energy.

  A massive lightning blast crackled out, arcing around the room like a snake. It snapped out at the first thing it could latch onto—the metal gun in the boss' apron. The gun was utterly disintegrated. The lightning kept going, rolling through him and arcing around to the next guy.

  It leapt around the circle. The boss was flung backward over his chair, skidding across the concrete. Weasel-face took the brunt of the next jump, and collapsed as though he were a puppet with its strings cut. Tattoo-guy's companion was next in line, and fared no better. The couch began to smoke as the lightning arced across it, catching fire an instant later.

  Tattoo-guy fell to the ground twitching. Stutter collapsed too, finally, as the lightning burned through the rest of the energy Natalie had given it.

  It was enough.

  She twisted around, with another quick spell on her lips, and shoved Door-guy away before he could do anything. He flew backward, ten feet head-over-heels, and landed on the mattress in the room they'd just left.

  Panting, Natalie started for the heavy steel door in the wall. A bullet slammed out with another earsplitting pop from the gun, embedding into the wall only a few feet in front of her.

  "Hey bitch. I ain't done with you."

  Tattoo-face was still awake. How? She'd put so much into that lightning blast. It felt just like the ones she'd done back in Rallsburg. Were there just too many people in the way this time? Or was it more than that? Did she have a better energy source back then? Something else to make her lightning so strong?

  She didn't have time to figure it out. Tattoo-face must have grabbed the other gun, which hadn't gotten annihilated by the lightning. She slowly turned around to face him, and found herself facing a loaded gun once again. He growled through gritted teeth. "Don't move, don't say a word. Whatever the fuck you just did, you're gonna tell me how."

  How can I do that if I can't say a word? Natalie wondered, but she didn't dare move regardless. No matter how shaky his aim might be, it was still close enough that she didn't want to risk it. She was staring down the barrel of the pistol, and it was one of the most terrifying things she'd ever seen. Even more than the golems, or the mob of angry men in Rallsburg.

  This was a real gun, something that could kill her in an instant if his finger twitched just slightly. Her dad had taught her about guns, and instilled a healthy fear. A gun didn't feel anything. It didn't know anything. It just killed.

  "Check 'em," he shouted at Door-guy, who was finally recovering from the punch Natalie had thrown. He limped around the circle, checking for a pulse on each of them.

  "Dead. Every fuckin' one."

  "All of 'em?" Tattoo-face asked, surprised. Natalie was too. She was pretty sure Stutter had still been alive. Apparently not. And soon I won't be either. It's over.

  "All of 'em. Straight dead or choked dead, I dunno shit. I'm not a doctor. But none of 'em got a pulse."

  Don't give up. Fight.

  Tattoo-face whistled slightly. "Damn."

  Natalie didn't know what to say, so she said nothing at all. She just kept watching the gun barrel, too afraid to let it out of her gaze. I'm going to die here. He's going to kill me. I tried everything I could and none of it worked. I had to hurt people again and it was for nothing.

  I'm going to die.

  Tattoo-face shook his head slightly. "You're a cold-ass brat, ain't you? Kill four guys and not a fuckin' word."

  "I just wanted to go home. I didn't want to hurt anyone," Natalie said, feeling despair flowing through her brain like an empty wave. "You guys wouldn't let me."

  "How'd you do it?"

  "I—"

  Natalie didn't have to answer. Out of nowhere, a gray-robed figure appeared behind Tattoo-face, standing on a chair.

  A knife flashed straight to his throat, slicing him wide open. As he fell, the gun flew from his hand on its own and landed in the figure's palm. In an instant, before Natalie could react, the figure twisted around and fired two clean shots into Door-guy's chest.

  They both collapsed. The gunshots rang in her ears. Natalie slowly lifted her eyes, after looking away from the sudden gunshots, and there—finally—stood Cinza. Brown-haired and with a streak of blood on her hand, but still... she'd come for Natalie.

  A moment later, Cinza's legs buckled. She nearly fell off the chair, only barely catching herself.

  Natalie ran to her, putting out the slowly growing fire on the couch as she did, before it started to spread to the whole building. Cinza dropped the gun to the ground, panting heavily.

  "Hello," she gasped in her echoing voice. "I'm... sorry... I took so long."