Antihero (Indefinite Hiatus D: )

Chapter Forty

We made our way through each floor as quickly as possible, the only noise being the shuffle of our boots and the short, sharp sound of soldiers yelling 'clear'. Christopher had fitted into the groove of things a lot quicker than I thought he would, which just made me irritated. Why couldn't he be bad at something? That way I could spend more time training him and keep him away from hero work for longer.

Steve was also a surprisingly good soldier – he easily picked up the slack for members that missed things or for those who were simply moving too slow. He looked like a mother hen, running left and right to fix the mistakes of others and guarantee safety of those in his team. I almost wanted to relinquish team leadership to him, simply because I couldn't care less if someone on the team died. As long as it wasn't Christopher.

I signalled to move up a floor, leading the way as we edged up the creaky steps. At the top of the steps I signalled left and right, telling Christopher and Leonard to take half the crew and check to the left, whilst Steve and I took the rest and checked the right before we met in the middle. I caught Christopher's eyes for a moment, swirling bright blue, and he nodded curtly, following Leonards steps quickly.

I made my way down the hallway, Steve close behind me, and stopped on the other side of the door. Steve moved into position, holding his gun up and nodding at me, a signal to kick the door down. I moved swiftly, the door falling to the ground and Steve running in.

"Hands up!" Steve yelled loudly as we trickled in behind him, each of our guns aimed at the Unregistered huddle in the corner, arms shakily held above his head.

A few yells from down the hall grabbed my attention and I lowered my gun, turning to the soldiers behind me and jutting my head at the crying man on the ground.

"Take him in, I'm heading to the other group. You, with me," I said to Steve, not entirely trusting him to be alone. I didn't wait to hear Steve's happy acknowledgement of my orders, swiftly heading down the hallway with his footsteps close behind me.

"What do we do?" I heard Christopher ask.

"Michaelson kills them," Leonard's deep voice answered quickly.

"Michaelson does?"

"He's the only one who can," Leonard replied, but his voice was drowned out by someone else.

"No! Please, just let my kids go," a woman cried as I stepped into the room, surveying the situation.

There was a woman, not much older than forty, dressed semi-decently. It was obvious she hadn't been on the run for very long, as though something had happened recently that made her run. Two small kids next to her, not much older than eleven, told me all I needed to know. They looked like twins, one girl and one boy. 

I hated that they were Affected so young, and I wondered whether they were infected by someone they had killed or if they developed it themselves. I assumed they had developed it themselves, due to the fact that they were both infected. They were truly unlucky. I glanced to Christopher and frowned, knowing that could be him any day.  Christopher was standing next to Leonard, looking down at me with unsure eyes. I heard Steve behind me moving to stand closer to the crying mother, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He knew what was coming - what I would do - and it made me oddly mad that he was excited for it.

Leonard had the woman cuffed and on her knees and her two kids were each cuffed and being held by two soldiers each. They growled and snapped, spit flying onto the ground as they fought against the adults keeping them in place. I clicked my tongue and shook my head, passing the rifle to a nearby soldier and pulling my handgun from its holster.

"No!" the woman screamed from behind me, crying loudly and losing her good looks as snot dripped from her nose. "Just let them go! They won't hurt anyone!" her voice cracked as she screamed, and Christopher shuffled on his feet awkwardly. I narrowed my eyes at him and stood silently for a moment, moving the gun in my hand as I watched him.