Hellions of Arcadia

Chapter 10: Sunset

So this is the final chapter of story exposition before the real plot begins, soon the chapters will be longer and the plot will begin to deepen.

9 days left of the NoNoWriMo challenge! So I'm gonna pour myself into my Amberprice work, so there's like only a %0.1 percent chance that this will be updated again until the challenge is over, so enjoy.

Max

Finding Warren in the hospital was harder than I thought it to be. The place was so cramped that I thought I would never have found him. It definitely made me happy that all of these people were alive, that my powers didn't kill an entire town of people.

But it also had made me guilty.

All these people, hurt, broken. Because of some decision I made? I felt very shitty when I was looking for him in that hospital.

Good. You hurt them.

'God, what do you want?' I reply to the voice of Chloe, echoing off the walls of my skull while Warren and I wait for Chloe to com back to wherever the hell she fucked off to while I was getting Warren.

I didn't say I wanted anything. I can do things without having a purpose behind it.

Why is it even your head in my mind? Like, it would make a lot more sense if it was my own. Like another part of my brain that's scolding my decisions, or something. But why you?

Hey, I don't make the rules.

"Max..." Warren's raspy voice tugged me out of my trance. The Chloe voice vanishes from my brain. My heart twinges again when I look down at Warren, sitting in a wheelchair. His leg and arm were broken when the Two Whales collapsed, he was lucky enough to be the only one inside that lived. Not Frank, not Pompidou, not Joyce.

"Yes, Warren? What do you need?" I devote my entire attention to him. It's what he deserves, after all, since I was the one that caused him pain. "I... I need a drink. Can we get one before we leave?" His voice is coarse, like he had spent the last hour screaming. And, I don't really doubt it, they had to relocate his hip, twice, and re break his arm to fix it. I wince at the thought.

"Sure thing, Warren." I say, trying to sound as enthusiastic as I can about it. "I'll get it, don't move." As soon as I say that, I regret it. Don't move, seriously? Saying that to a guy in a wheelchair?

Fortunately for me, Warren takes it as a joke, his laugh sounds like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other. "Thanks, Max." He offers me a warm smile that I don't deserve as I wander off.

There must be a water fountain around here, right? But then, how could I get to Warren? Wait! Cafeteria, duh. I shuffle over to the cafeteria that Warren and I passed on our way to the entrance. It's a tiny area, a couple tables crammed in here, and I'm the only person in the room.

Going over to the small fridge in the corner, I pry it open and snatch a water bottle from within.

Feeling thirsty myself, I take a second bottle from inside, and stuff it under my armpit. Mission Accomplished, I slam the tiny fridge door closed with my hip and-

A small sign beside the fridge catches my eye, big, bold, and red words scrawled unevenly on it.

LONG LIVE CHLOE PRICE

I blink rapidly, and when I look at it again, the words are gone. Instead, replaced with:

All Juice Beverages Are $0.5.

What the fuck was that? I could have worn that a second ago it read... My head pulses suddenly, and I cry out, dropping the water bottles onto the floor.