The Youngest Avenger

Chapter 6 - Home is where the bodies are

********************AUTHOR'S NOTE**********************

Okay, two things to mention. 1) Sorry about the massive gap in my writing, I had mock exams. 2) This chapter is going to be very short, but possibly a little graphic (trigger warning for death), so feel free to skip it if you want to.

Sorry I've not updated, I know its annoying, but I had controlled assessments and mock exams and it all got a bit much.

Thank you for reading!

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The car journey back was the longest of my entire life. Clint sat next to me, mute and awkward, but it was comforting to know he was there. When we pulled up outside the quarantine border and Clint flashed a pass at the guards.

"We've got clearance." he said.

"I know but the radiation levels are really high, you need to be careful-" Clint tapped a device I had presumed to be a watch, but the display had switched.

"I've got a Geiger Counter, it'll tell me when we reach the limit."

"Alright, go on through."

The driver slammed down on the accelerator and we flew down the road. Melted tarmac, yellowed plants; I'd only ever seen this stuff in movies, it was surreal and yet very very real. 

"Take a left," I mumbled, realizing the driver had no idea where he was going. "Left, then a right, then you go past the trees and it's there."

"Alright, thank you." The guy's head bobbed in the front of the car.

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We bumped to a halt outside the wreckage of my home and I clicked the door open. I immediately regretted the decision. The stench of burning flesh burned into my nose and lungs and I choked, doubling over and coughing until my throat felt raw.

"You okay?" Clint stood next to me. 

"Fine. Let's go." I stood up straight and strode towards the kitchen, the only room that seemed to be left. I smashed my elbow into the large window. I felt the glass cut into my skin, but I didn't bother numbing it - the pain helped me focus. I jumped in through the window and twisted, landing on my feet in a crouch. The impact made the wall shake and I felt plaster trickle over my head. I crawled over to the kitchen cabinets and carefully pulled on open.

"Thank god," I pulled out the battered recipe book and held it to my chest. I suddenly felt six years old again, and I could hear Grandma Margaret's voice.

"Alright, now we're gonna put this in the oven an' then we gonna make ourselves some shortbread 'cause I know your mama likes that."

I was crying again. Jesus, I had to learn to control myself. I shuffled back towards the window when a sudden creak told me to stop. I looked up, adjusting my eyes to the gloom and cursed as the beam above my head gave way. I rolled back , keeping the book tucked into my chest as the beams slammed into the ground, pushing up a whirlwind of dust.

"Ow," I wheezed, spitting a lump of plaster onto the floor. I rolled over to look at the blockade created by the fallen beam. The entire house seemed to have collapsed on itself, trapping me like a spider under a glass. I tried to find a weak point, but eventually decided it was pointless.

"Effort it is then." I stood up and slammed my hands into the roof, throwing it up and left over my head, slamming it down to the floor. A tidal wave of dust and broken glass rushed over me, flying up into the sky. Avoiding the sharp stuff, I climbed out and walked back to the car.

"You done?" Clint asked, his eyes flicking up from his watch.

"Yeah." I hugged the book a little tighter. "Lets get out of here."

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The driver took us to the morgue on the other side of the city. 

There's no pretty way to say it, so I won't try to.

There were piles of bodies, most of them covered by sheets, blankets and tarpaulin. I could see flies buzzing around in the air, drawn to the scent as much as I was repulsed by it.

I wanted to vomit. I wanted to cry, but most of all, I wanted it to all be a horrible, twisted nightmare that would disappear if I opened my eyes. Except it didn't. 

"Miss Farley, these were the bodies recovered from the house you were pulled out of. We'd like you to positively identify them please." The guy was wearing a white shirt and an apron. Both were bloodstained and smudged with dirt. I got the impression he had tried to keep them clean, but eventually it got too much. He pulled back a sheet.

Mum's face was a kind of bubblegum pink, except it was all melted looking, like it was made of wax. Her clothes were ripped and blackened. She'd always had a thing about being neat and tidy. I guess death hadn't given a shit about that.

"That's my mother." I gulped. 

Another sheet was pulled back.

"Tia." I was close to throwing up.

"It's okay, Clara." Clint put a hand on my shoulder.

"Last two okay?" I nodded.

Dad and Grandma Jenny. It was hard to tell at first; Dad's face was kind of squashed on one side. I tried to look at them for the shortest amount of time possible, but the images seemed to brand themselves into my brain. I knew it was not something I would ever forget.

"What do we do now?" I asked Clint, trying to keep my voice even. "I don't have anywhere to go, that's all my family." I was crying now, I didn't care. How could this possibly get worse?

"I'll send a message to Fury to pick up the bodies. We'll sort everything out. Make sure you get somewhere to stay. It's going to be okay."

'It's going to be okay'

I was beginning to feel like that was a lie.