Chapter 774: How was Moon Alive?
Moon’s eyes flipped open slowly, but every blink felt like sandpaper rubbing against raw meat. She tried to arch her back to sit up, but a scream died in her throat. Her chest felt like it had been used as a grill, and her face...! her face was a mask of agony.
"Son of a..." she hissed, her voice sounding like someone dragging a shovel over gravel.
She cursed the universe, the stars, and whatever twisted game fate was playing with her. In her past life, she was the beautiful one. She was the one who was supposed to be sipping chilled tea at a well-built fortress while Sunshine was the one meant to be dealt the bad hand. In that past, their father had burned Sunshine, leaving her with the ugly, jagged scar on her back.
She also had another burn scar on her face though it was faint. But she had more scars on her arms and other parts of her body. All that fighting in the apocalypse had left her unattractive. Now, as Moon touched her own blistered skin, the realization hit her like a physical blow.
Our fates switched, she thought, a cold, bitter dread filling her. The burn was meant for her. The scar was hers. Why am I the one wearing it?
For a terrifying second, she wondered if she had died and been reborn again into an even worse nightmare. But as she forced herself into a sitting position, the world didn’t look like a new life, it looked like it had before she blacked out. Even worse, she did not know how she was not dead.
Garrison had turned the whole place into a giant charcoal shell. Everything was pitch black. The tents were gone. The supplies were ash. And the pyrokinetic army? They weren’t an army anymore. They were charcoal briquettes scattered across the soot. The air was thick with the smell of burnt hair and fresh smoke, punctuated by the high, thin whistles of the few people that were still alive enough to feel pain.
She spotted a figure moving through the haze. It was Pete. He was hunched over a burned body, screaming Vexi’s name. His shoulders were shaking as he wailed.
"Pete!" Moon croaked.
The man flinched and turned. He was a mess. One side of his pants was gone, revealing a leg covered in angry, weeping burns. He limped toward her; his face streaked with tears and soot.
"Moon? You’re alive?" Pete asked, his voice trembling. He wiped his eyes, but it only smeared more black ash across his face. "He killed them all. The Fire King... he just snapped. Everyone is gone. Tobi, Vexi... they’re just... they’re no more, Moon. The ones left can’t even crawl." In such pain and grief, he didn’t even have the heart to blame her for what had happened to them. What difference would it make anyway?
Moon looked at the carnage and felt absolutely nothing for the dead. No grief, no pity. Just an intense, burning desire to get out of the dirt. What was done was done. They had to keep moving.
"Get it together, Pete," she said, her voice hardening. "Fortress Four is right over there. We have to go. Now."
Pete blinked at her, his mouth hanging open. "Go? Now? Moon, look around! We have people screaming in the ash. We have to help them. We have to find water, or bandages, or—"
"Bandages? Where?" Moon snapped, waving a hand at their useless surroundings. "There’s nothing here but ash. We stay here, we die of infection or the mutated animals come and eat us alive. Fortress Four has doctors. They have real medicine and soldiers. The only way you help your friends is by getting me to those gates. My sister has a soft heart; she will send help for the others."
Pete looked back at the moaning survivors, then back at Moon. He wanted to help them badly, and Moon’s words sounded like logic. "You’re... you’re right," He whispered, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "We get help. We bring the medics back. We save who we can. It is better than letting everyone die."
"Exactly," Moon said, letting out a breath. She reached out, and Pete helped her to her feet. She leaned on him, her weight heavy on his good side. She swallowed hard, knowing that with her injuries it was going to take them some time to get there.
She looked at Pete and gave him a small, tired smile, the kind of smile a sister gives a brother. "You’re a good man, Pete. I’m glad you survived."
Inside, however, Moon’s mind was a shark circling its prey. She looked at Pete’s limping leg and scoffed internally. Help? I’m not bringing help back for these charcoal sticks. Only a fool would get to safety and then return to danger. Damn you Garrison, if I had known you were this insane, I would have killed you myself.
She decided to think positively, the burns on her body were not necessarily a bad thing. She knew Sunshine didn’t remember the past life. She didn’t need an army to storm the fortress; she just needed to look like a victim.
An injured, scarred, weeping sister returning home was better than one who was the picture of perfect health. As for Pete, he was useful for now. He was her crutch, her bodyguard. But once those high metallic gates of Fortress Four opened and she was safely inside.... he was a loose end. He knew too much about her ruthlessness. He had seen her true face.
Once we reach the gate, Pete, she thought, her smile widening just a fraction as they began their slow, painful trek toward Kingsbridge. I’ll make sure you cannot tell anyone about me, or the things I have done. I have to find some poisoned herbs or something before we make it inside.
She made up her mind. Pete would have to die as soon as they crossed the gates of the fortress.
"Your face is really damaged." Pete said worriedly, glancing at the scorched left side of Moon’s face. It was both disgusting and horrifying to look at. It was so bad that half of Moon’s scalp was exposed. That kind of wound was going to leave a bad scar. Maybe, her hair would never grow back.
"Oh, the doctors will fix it," Moon whispered, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the Fortress was. She could already see lava free roads in the distance. I am coming Sunshine. Wait for me to arrive and give me back everything that belongs to me. she thought.