The Piece System

Chapter Thirty-Two: ALEX

"Well, this sucks." Caleb said. He and Alex had been forced to go back home to Blackmoore or face the consequences, which they had after he'd managed to pull some strings and get Lisa out. None of them had wanted to go but they didn't have a choice. The whole drive home, they tried desperately to come up with a solution.

"What about writing a letter?" Lisa'd suggested.

"A letter?" Alex said, turning around to look at her in the car. "Seriously?"

"Well, I can't think of anything else."

Alex hadn't had a response to that. They'd tried everything. Caleb had even suggested going back to confront The King, but she'd shut that idea down immediately. If they did try something so bold, they could end up on death row with the Pawns.

When she'd asked Caleb how he'd been able to get Lisa out, he'd told her it was because of an old law stating The King couldn't kill Queens and had to hear them out, by law, every time. She didn't know anything about it, but it made sense to her. As Bishops, her and Lisa had managed to get lucky.

Jake, not so much.

Once they'd arrived in Blackmoore, it was eerily quiet. The burning fires had faded into billowing smoke. Billowing, silent smoke. The riots were gone and, in their place, was the sound of sorrow. Silence and gentle sobs. People slumped in the streets—products of the rampage. Loved ones sat beside them, refusing to move as arbiters tried to drag them away. Remaining ones who cared like Rooks and Knights watched solemnly, keeping their children close. Pawns were being loaded into vans. Skinny, taut faces streaked with tears watched Caleb's car hum past. Alex looked away.

I'm sorry.

The world, a place that had been thrown into uproar, was quiet again. It was like it knew they'd lost. And deep down, Alex knew it too. What hurt was that she'd done anything but help. In fact, she was the catalyst that set everything into motion.

The next day was the most sickening thing Alex had ever had to endure. The high school bullies were nothing. The drunken college fights didn't even come close. The whole day, she sat on Caleb's sofa with him and Cricket, watching tv and denying that the world was on fire. That tomorrow, Jake was gone.

Surely, he has a plan. Was what she was currently telling herself. It was just denial, really. She hadn't seen his face since he'd shot at The King. The guards had seized him before she could even explain the situation properly, and now she might never get the chance.

That day, while she'd been in the shower, she'd sat on the slipping white floor of the bath, tucked her knees to her chest and she'd sobbed. Quiet, stifling sobs that were drowned out by the thuds of water against plastic. Caleb wouldn't hear, Lisa wouldn't hear, Jake wouldn't hear. No one would hear. Only Cricket pawed at the door. Still, she buried herself in her knees, water thudding against her back.

It felt like her fault. Maybe she should've just let Jake kill The King. Sure, that would've let the mysterious real power rule unchecked, but then he might not be stuck in a cell just waiting to die. She knew that wouldn't work though. And, although it was different, it felt like she was waiting to die too. Yes, he was slumped over in a rotting prison cell while she was curled up in a blanket, but it felt horrible. It still felt like waiting to die because, somehow, she knew that the second she saw the life slip from his eyes, she'd be done. Something inside her would wither and crumble and it'd be over. She wasn't sure why, she just knew.

When Thursday came, she wondered how it had felt to be cooped up in a cell for days. From what Lisa had told her, he was with Faye, Charlie, Ryan and Piper, so at least he wasn't alone. Or perhaps he'd prefer to be alone. All she knew for sure was that he probably didn't want to see her. He probably hated her. She didn't blame him.