Liberation

Chapter 24

Peter's point of view:

"Ow," I say through gritted teeth when I wake up, my back feeling like somebody used it as a punching bag. Stretching it out makes it pop, which makes it hurt even more.

Sighing to myself, I get up off the couch and head to the kitchen to drink some orange juice. The house is awfully quiet, and I find myself wondering if Julia actually made it okay through the night.

But after I've got a glass of orange juice and stand quietly sipping it, I notice the clock, flashing 9:30 in the morning.

"No no no," I begin, scrambling for the nearby window and praying that they haven't started yet.

However, when I look outside, the sight makes me drop my glass, shattering it into millions of shards on the ground.

"Dammit," I say, not from the broken glass but rather the fire surrounding the city. I'm late.

"Julia! Julia, they started already!" I yell as I run up the stairs to our room, fumbling for the dresser as I grab a t-shirt and jeans. But when I look over and see that the bed is empty, I furrow my eyebrows in disbelief.

It is then when I feel something taped to my forehead, and I pull it off in confusion: a sticky note.

Left early this morning to meet Cassia and Kyle. See you when you get there, I guess.
-J

I sigh and crumble the note in my hand, still feeling guilty for what I said last night. I really messed up.

Maybe I can apologize to her, maybe I can ask her to be my girlfriend again and this whole situation will just blow over and everything will be the way it was.

But then, I hear a voice poking at my conscience from the most remote corner of my mind.

After today, nothing will be the way it was, the voice says, causing a shudder to run through my body.

You're my pawn, Peter. You can't stop what will happen today. Take comfort in knowing you are completely helpless, it speaks again.

I rub my head, the voice sounding familiar but not having heard it enough to distinguish it. I could probably guess it's Henley, but it doesn't scare me. She's an empty threat, like always.

Ignoring the voice, I throw on a black t-shirt with jeans and some shoes, and then proceed to practically fly down the stairs and head for the front door.

I catch sight of the broken glass of orange juice, still splayed all over the kitchen floor. "I'll clean it up when I come back," I mutter under my breath as I head outside.

**********************

"Nice of you to join us, Peter," Adam says to me when I finally make it to them.

"I'm sorry, I overslept," I say, making the lamest excuse for my absence.

"Yeah yeah," Adam says before he hands me a strange looking gun, one I've never seen before.

"What's this?" I ask, examining it. Possibly the smallest gun I've ever seen.

"Weapon of choice for the six of us," Adam says proudly, obviously having played a part in developing it. "It doesn't kill people. Worst that can happen is a bruise from being hit with one of the bullets," he explains. "Then what's it good for?" I ask him, not understanding why he would make a weapon that won't do any damage.

"It renders people powerless for one minute per bullet. Victoria helped," he says, beaming from the product.

"Impressive," I admit as I hook the weapon into one of my belt loops before remembering a more important matter at hand.