Liberation

Chapter 18

Julia's point of view:

(Taking place at the end of the following day)

Snow begins to fall for the first time this year, the small white clumps accumulating on the outside window sill of my house. The moon occasionally shines upon the wintry blanket as it plays peek-a-boo with the clouds.

It's a beautiful night, the kind that I would usually spend wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire place, fast asleep surrounded by warmth. However, this night is not enjoyable.

My screams of pain pierce the comfortable silence as Cassia fishes around in my shoulder with a pair of tweezers, trying to find the bullet. Susan stands above me with her hand over my forehead, trying to ease the pain with her power of joy. However, the attempt is ineffective.

Blood flows profusely out of my wound, soaking the white cloth underneath my arm. My teeth are clenched and my eyes are squeezed shut, sweat rolling in beads down my forehead.

"Cassia, stop it!" I beg of her as I clutch Peter's hand, undoubtably squeezing the life out of it.

"Julia, if I don't get the bullet out now, the area will get infected. It's buried in your arm, so the sooner you accept that this will take a while, the easier it'll get," she explains.

I grimace as she sticks the tweezers back in, fresh hot tears rolling down my cheeks and blurring my vision. I try not to look at the massive amounts of blood escaping my shoulder, the smell making me sick.

"Found it!" Cassia says with glee as I feel her tweezers lock around something solid in my shoulder, causing me to scream again.

"Ok Julia, I'm pulling it out on three," Cassia tells me.

"1..." She begins as I brace myself. "2.." She says, and I close my eyes so I won't see it. "3!" She yells, and quickly yanks out the bullet swiftly.

"Oh my God, Cassia!" I scream as I sit up and clutch my shoulder, crying profusely now. Fresh blood soaks my hand, and the unnaturally warm substance makes my stomach churn.

"Lay back down," Peter tells me, but I can't bring myself to do it. "I think I'm gonna be sick," I say weakly as I feel my stomach push its contents up my throat.

Thankfully, Cassia brings a trashcan in just the right time as I vomit into it, my back arching in pain and blood from my arm falling on the floor. When I finish, the scent of it almost makes me throw up again.

"You got it?" I ask Cassia as I settle back down, shivering from blood loss.

"Right here," she says as she holds up the bullet, a nasty sized one covered in blood and bits of flesh.

Looking at it makes me remember the pain it brought me, and in turn my vision starts to tunnel. My head slumps forward and I can't remember how to breath.

"Kyle, help me!" Cassia begs as she motions for Kyle to approach. I can hear Adam in the corner, silently gagging to himself from looking at all the blood.

"What happened?" Kyle asks as he gets to the couch. "I don't know! Stitch up her arm and stop the blood loss while I heal everything else," I manage to hear Cassia say, even though her voice sounds like it's a million miles away.

Kyle works around the incision Cassia made to look for the bullet, his healing powers sending a pinprick of relief. Blue light surrounds the area, becoming brighter when it reaches my wound. The blood finally begins to stop, and bit by bit the skin connects back together.

Cassia puts her hand on my forehead, breathing life back into my head, heart, and mind. I begin to breath again, slow and deep as my vision goes back into focus.

I feel nothing of the pain anymore but a just a slight soreness left behind.

"You're not dying on us. You're not getting out of here that easily," Cassia says with a smirk as I find the strength to sit up. I look over at my hand, still grasping tight to Peter's, and I let go.

My shoulder has no trace of any injury left behind, minus a small pink scar over the incision site. I try moving it, finding complete control over my mobility without setbacks. Like nothing ever happened.

I pick up the bullet, examining it carefully in my hands. It's unlike any I've seen before, bigger and sharper. There's a tiny hole at the tip of it, and when turned upside down, a small drop of black liquid rolls into the palm of my hand. That's when I understand.

"This isn't some regular bullet," I say bluntly.

"What do you mean?" Adam asks, still keeping his distance from me as if he's afraid my arm will burst back open and spray him with blood.

"There's a small sack in here that carries poison. When the bullet enters someone's system after being shot, it releases the poison into the person's body. The poison is used to attack the central nervous system and kill them. So if the bullet itself doesn't finish the job, the poison will," I explain, but I only get blank stares from everyone in return.

"What? I'm not Adam, but I am also knowledgeable," I say defensively.

I grab a plastic bag from the kitchen and slip the bullet inside, then handing it off to Adam.

"Send this to Maria and see if she can make something to counteract this or disable it," I inform him.

"If what you say is true, then Kyle and I have to get to the dome. There are people injured in there with the same kind of wounds as you," Cassia says. "Susan, you better come with us if any of them are as bad as Julia," she adds, promoting an eye roll from me.

Adam, Cassia, Kyle, and Susan all leave without so much of a goodbye to do their own part in preparing for the arrival of our enemies tomorrow.

It just leaves behind Peter and I.

He comes to sit down next to me and tries to put his arm around me, but I inch away from him uncomfortably. I feel annoyed with him for no reason, just an angry feeling.

"What's wrong?" He asks me. "Why do you care?" I spit back, immediately regretting my words.

What am I doing?

His eyes register hurt that I didn't mean to cause, but yet I did. "Because you're important to me. Are you alright?" He asks, his questions only making me angrier. "Go find somebody else to pester," I snap, getting up from the couch and heading up the stairs, getting as far away from him as I can.

I can't understand why I'm mad, why I'm saying these things. I've never been mad at him for anything.

When I get to my room and slam the door, I immediately regret what I said, the full impact of my words hitting me and washing over me like ice.

I open the door back and begin to head back downstairs with the full intent of apologizing, but before I can get completely downstairs, I hear the door to the house slamming shut.

I run to the front door and see Peter trudging out into the snow, heading to God only knows where.

I open the door, my apology stuck in my throat and choking me every step he takes further away from me.

"Come back," I croak, but the howling winds of the winter storm snatch away my voice and carry it far away, now lost forever into the atmosphere.

Tears start to well up in my eyes as Peter is far away now, concealed by the whirling winds of snow.

This journey is going to bring the two of you closer and tear you apart at the same time, Evelyn's words echoing in my mind and stinging with pain.

It's not going to end like this, my foolish words will not mean the end of us.

So without a second thought, I charge into the blinding snowstorm after him.