Ultramarine | The Darkest Minds Fanfic

Chapter 10, Cole

This is just a usual sweep, nothing more. I told myself as I walked down the street in downtown LA, a M16A4 strapped on my back, a SIG Sauer P229 DAK in my hand, diving deeper into the sunset.

　　So why do I feel so fucking unhinged?

　　Maybe it was because I knew some of the agents weren't bringing back all the foods they found, namely Sen, Gates and Ferguson. They volunteered to go out and find food for all of us, but they didn't fool me—they didn't volunteer out of the kindness of their hearts. Maybe it was because they barked and yelled at the kids even though we were supposed to be helping them. The way those smaller kids cowered and winced whenever those agents snapped out commands instead of voicing requests, pushed me one step closer to actual full-blown fury.

          　　No, focus. I scanned the empty street, and found no sign of human activity. Whoever they were that had searched this street and taken away its residents had done their jobs days ago. What I need to worry about now are patrols, the small units of four that drove around the city, scooping up the strays.

　　I walked down the dead street, which must had been some kind of fabrics market before all...this. At the corner of my eyes, I caught something that looked like a body, and my heart sank a little, until I saw that it was nothing but a mannequin.

　　Every hair on the back of my neck was standing on its end now. To be honest, a single breeze now would have sent my adrenaline level sky-rocket through the roof, but I'm not about to let my nerve get the best of me. Panic doesn't look good on this face.

　　I walked another block, making sure that we were not too close to any potential danger to my liking. The warehouse we've been hiding in was but a mile from here, and I could tell that the soldiers were closing in on us. We need to move out very soon, no later than a day.

　　Around the street corner, I saw a welcoming sight—a juice shop. One of those that sold fancy cold-press something which some prissy people dig. This could mean foods—the agents who had brought back foods for us weren't keen on keeping things balanced—all we got were chips and chocolate bars, and occasionally, if they were kind enough to share, some bagels.

　　I swear to god, if I had to watch one more of those kids pretending that they were full after only half a bar of Snicker down their stomachs, I'd strangle Sen myself.

　　I walked past the shattered glass that was once the door of this shop, and headed straight behind the counter. There, I found a sturdy looking steel refrigerator. The electricity died two weeks ago, so I didn't get my hopes up, but some of the fruits had got to keep better than others, right?

　　I opened the door, and found, to my surprise, still a trace of cold air flowing my way. Inside the fridge, some of the softer fruits had gone a tad beyond ripe—kiwis, grapes, bananas—but some of the others were keepers; apples, oranges. I stuffed the ones that felt firm enough to be eaten into my backpack, and thought about Sheena. She would've been thrilled at the sight of these, not only because apple was her favorite fruit, but because the lack of Vitamin C in everyone's system had started to take its toll, especially on the younger kids, and she was worried. She didn't say, but I knew.

　　After my backpack had had enough, I zipped it up and walked out onto the street again, heading back to our temporary base. The sun had set, and I had to pick up speed if I want to be back before I bump into some patrols in the dark.

　　For the next few minutes, I heard nothing but my own breaths, until I picked up a low hum in my ears, and it sent my feet flying towards the building beside me. I hid behind the wall, right beside one of the broken windows, and saw three Humvees stopped across the street moments later.

　　Shit, shit, shit. It was just my luck that I happened to come across a full-blown squad in action on my way back, when I was actually in a hurry.

　　"In position." I heard one of the soldiers said, and peeked out from behind the frame. They were enclosing a building across the street. I ran upstairs to try and get a better look.

　　There were a total of six people there. Much fewer than I expected. They entered the building, and a few seconds later, I heard yelling, gunshots, and a scream. From a woman.

　　"Stop!" I heard a cried, from the same woman that screamed earlier, I assumed. I shifted from my place behind the window, and saw a woman walking out of the building, hands in the air, a gun pointing to the back of her skull. "I'm Senator Anabel Cruz; I surrender myself to your administration."

　　Cruz. That name rang a bell. And it hit me—she is the International Affairs Coordinator of Federal Coalition.

　　My body snapped into action before my brain could come to the conclusion—she could be an asset. I set up the rifle on the windowsill, aiming deeper into the street across from me, and fired.

　　"Contact! Contact!" The soldiers jumped immediately, and turned to aim their guns at the direction where the bullet hits its target.

　　And that was their mistake.

　　One, two, three. I fired three shots before they realized that they were looking at the wrong direction, but those bullets landed where I wanted them—in three soldiers' heads respectively.

　　"Backup! Backup!" One of the soldiers yelled at the comm in his hand. "This is Merchant Street and 7th Street intersection, require backup—"

　　Four down, two to go.

　　The two remaining soldiers learnt their lessons. They had dragged Senator Cruz into the backseat of their Humvee, and one of them started firing at the building I was in.

　　I had no choice but to draw my rifle back in. I heard the car's engine sputtered to life, and knew my chance was going to slip away. I pulled out the handgun, and made a very risky move—I stood in front of the window, fully exposed, and fired a shot at the driver before he could drive away.

　　As I retracted into the cover of the cement wall, the sound outside told me that my bullet had hit its target. The car hadn't driven away. Not yet.

　　I ran downstairs, just in time for the one remaining soldier to push the dead driver out of pilot's seat. I fired one last shot at the front seat, and the fussing stopped.

　　I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and rushed to open the backseat door. There, I found a woman—in some once-pristine navy blue dress suit and a pair of broken high heels—staring back at me in shock. Her face coincided with the one I've seen in Op files.

　　"Senator Cruz, I'm Agent Cole Stewart of the Children's League, and I'd like for you to come with me."

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[Apherod speaking]

Hi there, sorry for the last chapter.

Since I didn't want to leave you traumatized for too long, I decided to upload this chapter sooner. I know it's a short one, and some of you might have seen it before (I published it on Tumblr as a trial chapter at some point), but I hope it would ease the tension a little.

Thank you all for the support. If you stuck through the last chapter and still decide it's a good idea to follow this story, I'm really really grateful.

Apherod out!