Caught between a strong mind and a fragile heart.
-Unknown
•••
Carlton Blake and the remaining North American troops are resting on Niihau, gathering their wits and examining the situation. Everyone is here except for the group that was dropped off at Kahoolawe, because they've gone radio silent and it seems to be relatively impossible to reach them. Being the soldiers that they are, nobody was stupid enough to go after them.
The first four islands are destroyed, and it appears that only one bomb was dropped, right in the center of Hawaii. Ash floats in the waves of the ocean and dead fish wash up onto the shore, but none of them are focusing on that right now. Everyone is trying to figure out why there has been North American boots on this ground and nobody knew about it.
"All of the troops that were in Asia at the time of the bombings were accounted for." Jackson states, his hands spread out on the table in front of him. He has taken up leadership at the expense of the late General Pauling. They've set up base in one of the farmhouses, which, like everything else, is empty. "So that means that there must have been some stationed here. But to my knowledge, there wasn't."
"Even if there was, where are they? Where did they go?" Carlton asks, exasperated. "This whole island is empty. It wasn't even touched by the bombs, and it's empty. No life. Something weird is going on."
"Then there is the issue of Kahoolawe." Jackson continues, ignoring his questions. "If nobody on that island is responding, it means something bad happened. They didn't just drop their radios in the ocean. We might have enemies closer than we think."
Silence. Nobody really knows what to say, and everybody seems to be thinking of ways to move forward. The silence probably would have continued on for several minutes had it not been for the loud booming off in the distance, which shakes the nerves of every person in the room.
"It sounds like canons." One soldier says, and everyone starts to flood out of the door.
At first, nothing happens, and the booming just gets louder. The sky is clear.
"Or guns. Big guns." Carlton swallows. "Guys, Nuke's don't have big guns."
Suddenly, off in the distance, a speck of black appears. No, it's red, which is apparent as it gets closer and closer, and the dark colors are coming from the smoke exuding out of every part of it. There's fire too, and as the thing spirals towards them, Carlton is so shocked that he doesn't even notice that the booming stopped.
"A hovercraft." He mutters, then yells it. "A hovercraft! TAKE COVER!"
Everyone rushes to hit the ground in front of the house, under the cover of its pavilion. The vehicle breaks through the clouds and comes barreling down, swerving to the other side of the island, and the soldiers can only watch as it crashes into the distant trees, sending ash and smoke flurrying up in its wake.
***
A few hours earlier
The night passes by slowly. Ivy is exhausted, the drag of sleep slowly pulling her under until her eyelids flutter every time she sits down. She's dozed off a few times in random places, but never for long.
Michael is still awake, fumbling with some of the buttons on the control center of the pilot base. She slips silently into the chair next to him, leaning back with a yawn. He's got this whole contraption laid out, made with a mixture of the inner contraptions of the radio and the chip he took from Nasim Kieran's computer. Whatever's necessary to maintain security, she guesses.
The soft hum of the hovercraft is the only sound in the room. Everybody else is asleep. Michael is completely honed in on his work, codes flying across the glowing screen. The autopilot switch is on, set to the coordinates her put in earlier. Ivy directs her eyes to the ocean out the window.
"How's it going?" She asks softly, watching the waves move in the darkness. They're restless, as if a storm is brewing. Technically, there is.
Michael tuts, pulling up a few separate screens. He doesn't look up. "Good so far. I've managed to break into the databases for the bombs and Nasims military codes, as well as all of the files and footage she has on the AOSS. There's a lot of it. I'm trying to go as fast as I can." He shakes his head, turning on his seat to face her. "Ivy, these formulas are insane. The way the chemicals were woven..." he sighs softly, as if in awe. "It's genius. Smarter than anything I could have come up with."
"What do you mean?" Ivy asks, raising an eyebrow. She wraps her arms around herself. She hopes he doesn't go into full Michael mode, using big words and scientific phrases she can't understand and just making her feel dumb in general. He kind of has that effect on everybody.
"Well, I was thinking about Xavier. The way his shoulder healed so fast. It had something to do with the way his cells molded together. I did some digging, and found that this stuff-" He holds up the empty container of healing serum. "Has virtually the same chemical makeup of the stem cell hybrids used in the bombs. It's what made the mutants heal so fast and resist pain. Nasim Kieran also used several elements to manipulate the motor neurons of every organism the radiation went through, which is what caused the immediate focus on basic instinct." Michael turns back to his work.
"And she did all that to make sure there were no survivors." Ivy shakes her head. Just the mention of the boy she lost has sparked a fire in her tone. "Sick bitch."
"Sick but genius bitch." Michael scoffs, sounding bewildered. "I wish I could have had an intellectual conversation with her. Just one. Her mind seems so intricate."
"Michael, she was a murderer." Ivy says incredulously, sitting up. "She killed billions of people. Tortured thousands. You can't honestly be admiring her right now."
"Not her. Just her mind." Michael sighs, and looks over to her. "I hate her just as much as you do. But you can't deny that this is incredibly intelligent work."
"Yeah yeah, whatever." Ivy leans back again, swallowing. Michael keeps typing on the screen.
She starts to dose off again. The cots in the back are starting to seem really inviting.
"What about you?" He asks, after several moments in silence. "How's it going?"
Ivy shrugs. "Depends on what you mean."
"Well, you haven't said anything non war-related in two days. You're obviously angry. I don't know if it's because of Xavier, but I just thought you might want to talk."
Ivy nearly flinches at his name. She has tried so hard, so damn hard, to push him to the back of her head. He isn't what her focus should be on. But every time she closes her eyes she sees the knife cutting through Zay's throat and his blood fanning out over the ground.
"Not really." She manages to say without choking, hugging herself even tighter. She has to shift the focus from the red haired boy she lost, or she'll start crying. "I just.. I don't know how to feel. About Luke. I can't just forgive him Michael, no matter how hard I try."
Michael sighs. He looks out the window to the oceans below, setting his jaw. "I know. I get it. What he did was pretty bad, but we know him, Ivy. He didn't do it to hurt us. And right now, holding a grudge is the last thing we need to win this fight. It will only make things worse."
"I know, Michael, dammit. I know." Ivy grits her teeth. Her throat is burning. "That's what makes it so hard."
He puts a hand on her knee, and Ivy lays hers over it. The gesture is enough to slow her breathing. He gives her a reassuring squeeze, before sitting back up and turning to his work once more.
"You should get some sleep, Ives." He says, typing away once again. "You clearly need it. Besides, you're probably going to have the opportunity to behead the Superior of North America tomorrow, and that takes energy."
She shakes her head, but then nods. He gives her a soft smile, and she gets up, headed for the back room.
Ivy wants to sleep. Really, she does. But she doesn't think she would get through the night without waking up screaming Xavier's name. Besides, the two silver beauties she picked up in the grand castle need to be cleaned.
She finds a quiet alcove in the back of the hovercraft, just behind the bathroom. The two blades shine in the low light as she pulls them out, laying them in front of her. They're in even better shape then her original ones.
"Hello, beauties." Ivy whispers, running her nails over the long, thin swords. Out of all the deadly instruments she has trained with, these will always remain her favorite. Her weapon of choice.
They are both soaked in blood. If she doesn't get it off, it'll rust and probably dull the blades.
She takes the rag she stole from the bathroom and spits on it, starting to rub off some of the crust caked onto one of the blades. Her shoulders still ache from the events of the day before, and her fatigue threatens to take over her body at any minute, but she fights through it.
It's going to be a long night.
***
Luke wakes up a few hours later with a jolt, only to find his hand in Alex's. He's drowsy, the remnants of the nightmare he just had already slipping away, but his eyes shift from their clasped hands to her face and all thoughts of blood and screaming evaporate.
She's so incredibly beautiful. Maybe that's why he was so stricken by her in the first place. The little button nose, the long eyelashes, the freckles dotting her cheeks. He could stare at her forever. He can't believe he gets to have this.
The drag of sleep has gone. For some reason, Luke feels like he needs to get up, like he has something to do. He gently kisses the delicate fingers between his own before placing Alex's hand softly next to her body, pulling away slowly as to not wake her up. He sits up, rustles his hair a bit, and rises to stumble out of the room.
The hovercraft is relatively silent, and dark, the only light source being the moon shining through the windows. He can make out the outline of Michael in the pilots seat, his crazy hair, the blue light of the screen in front of him. Ivy is no where to be seen.
Ivy.
Luke's mind shifts back to the earlier events of the day, the words she threw at him, the anger and disgust in her voice. She blames him for Xavier's death, and he can't seem to fault her for it. She has every right in the world to be mad, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.
Now is his chance to finally talk to her alone, to try and make things right. He just needs to find her.
She wasn't in the sleeping room, and obviously isn't in the pilots lounge. He checks the main area, the storage closet, and the bathroom, and is about to give up and head back to bed when a soft sound catches his hearing.
Luke turns the corner to find a small alcove just behind the bathroom, and in it, Ivy. She's sitting cross legged on the floor, scrubbing at her new swords with a rag. Luke swallows hard.
He doesn't know what to say. He can sense the tension in the air, see it in the line of her shoulders. She's still scrubbing. Luke clears his throat.
Ivy looks up, sees him, and looks back down. The silvery blonde color of her hair stands out sharply in the moonlight. She starts to scrub the blade a little harder. "What do you want, Luke?"
"Can we talk?" He asks. She stops scrubbing.
"Theres nothing to talk about." Ivy finally says, looking up at him with stormy eyes.
"Yes, there is." Luke says, walking towards her. She leans back. "I betrayed you. I screwed up. Royally. And I know you want to rip my face off. I just want to make things right."
Ivy scoffs. She starts scrubbing at the blade again, obviously trying to avoid looking at him. Her fingers move fast and hard across the sharp metal. "You can't."
"I'm sorry, Ivy." He mutters helplessly. "Please just let me explain-"
"No." She cuts him off, and swears, ripping her hand from the sword. Blood blossoms from a cut across the front of her middle and index finger. "You don't have to. You were working with Asia, presumably because you thought it would only effect you and not those around you. You made a dumbass judgement and put us all in danger. You watched a nuke slit Xavier's throat, and nearly got us all killed." She slams the rag on the floor a little too hard. Her eyes are watering.
"I'm sorry." Luke whispers, his voice hoarse. "I'm so sorry."
"I trusted you." Ivy says lowly, tears leaking out of her eyes and streaming down her face. "I put my life in your hands. And the entire time you were willing to let a nuke put a knife to my throat for that bitch." The pain is evident in her voice, and that's what hurts Luke the most. She rarely shows her emotions. Ever. He can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen her cry.
"Ivy, I would give anything-" He starts, his own throat closing up. She cuts him off.
"I don't want to hear it." Ivy hiccups, wiping a hand roughly across her face and sniffling hard. "I can't even look at you. God, I can't even look at my own brother. We're family, Luke, and I can hardly stand to be in the same room with you." She's turning away, already closing the doors to her heart. She's slipping back into the hard shell she keeps up all the time, and Luke is getting desperate.
"What can I do?" He whispers, tears now wetting his cheeks. His chest is burning. He hasn't cried like this since... since
Calum.
"Nothing." She replies, not meeting his eyes. She swallows hard, and is silent for a few moments. "Honestly, not a damn thing. I have to work this out on my own."
Luke sets his jaw. He wants to explain so badly, to sit down in front of her and beg for her forgiveness, but he knows it would never work. She would just tell him to shut up and punch him if he didn't. He knows her. She's grown up with trust issues, they all have. It took years to make that connection with each other, to form that bond. Luke shattered it into a million pieces, and the shards are tearing at his heart.
"Ok." He whispers, balling his hands into fists. "Ok. I am so, so sorry."
"I know you are." She replies, cradling her bleeding hand. "Now go."
Luke does. He gives her one last pleading look but she's not even facing him anymore, so he turns around and heads back to bed.
Ivy swears colorfully the second Luke is out of sight, slamming her hands onto the ground. She curses herself for crying but doesn't stop, digging the heals of her palms into her eyes and letting the sobs come. She can't slow them down, can't make them go away. All she can do is let herself break down.
"Dammit." She says through gritted teeth, her tears blossoming wet spots on her pants. She buries her face into her hands, smearing blood on her face. Her chest is burning, her throat on fire. She can barely breath.
Despite being completely and utterly disgusted by her own weakness, Ivy just lets herself cry. She knows that if she just keeps shoving it down it will flare up at a time that she can't control, and right now, she can. So she curls up into a ball, shoving her face into her knees, and sobs.
***
The sound of footsteps rouse me from the deep sleep I have fallen into, and when my eyes blink open, the first thing I notice is the airy feeling in my palm. The cot across from me is empty. My heart skips a beat.
Then the footsteps get closer until they're right next to me, and Luke sits down onto the small bed with his shoulders slumped. It's hard to make out his expression, but when he turns it to the moonlight, I can see the tears in his eyes.
I don't speak. Luke doesn't cry, he just doesn't, so I know that whatever is bothering him is big. Instead, I reach out and put a hand on his knee.
He wipes furiously at his eyes, and turns his face to the shadows so I can't see him.
"Sorry, I was just.." He sighs. "I had to do something. No big deal." Luke lies back down on the cot, pulling the covers over himself, and I withdraw my hand. I can see his face a bit better, his swollen eyes and broken features, and swallow hard.
"You're crying." I whisper, deciding not to avoid the observation. The first step to us moving forward is not hiding things from each other. That much I do know.
Luke closes his eyes. "Alexandra.. don't."
"No, Luke, I'm going to." I say softly, and he finally looks at me. His eyes are glossy and filled with pain. "We have got to talk to each other. I want to help you."
"If you want to help me." He whispers, his voice hoarse. A few seconds pass in silence, he seems to be thinking, before fresh tears roll down his cheeks and he bites his lip. His eyes open, and when they meet mine, my breath catches in my throat. "Then come here."
I don't know what comes over me, but before I can stop myself, I'm swinging my legs over the edge of the cot and crawling in next to him, into his open arms. Luke wraps me up and pulls me against him, his arms around my waist, my face against his chest. It's the warmest I have felt in what seems like years.
I feel his lips press against the top of my head, his tears as they stain my shoulder. I don't say anything. Instead, I push my hands under the folds of his shirt and relish in the warmth of his skin, the feel of his touch.
Somehow, this feels like breaking through a barrier. I don't know why, maybe it's because we're both just so done with this shitty world that everything feels desperate. Maybe it's because we're drawn to each other, for some weird reason I have no way of comprehending. Either way, I know that I wouldn't be able to face tomorrow without Luke. Not now. Maybe not ever.
It's his heartbeat, steady and sure, that finally pulls me under into sleep.
*
"Alexandra!"
Loud, booming crashes, the cot is sliding under me, my ears are ringing..
"Alexandra, get down!"
A massive shattering sound rips me into consciousness and my eyes fly open, only to see glass scattering the floor. The hovercraft lurches under me and I'm sent sprawling, hitting the floor with a thud. A strong hand grabs my arm before I can pull myself together.
For a minute, I'm back in the bunker, waking up to chaos and screaming and people being thrown dead at my feed. The atmosphere spins around me as Luke pulls me up, dragging me to the corner.
The hovercraft is under attack, this much I can tell. The loud crashes are gunshots, and bullets are raining down through the windows and hitting the metal underneath me. It's daytime, judging from the sunlight shining over the chaos, but I can barely focus on that with the yelling coming from the main cabin.
Luke puts me down in the corner and staggers to his feet, just as another lurch overtakes us and the hovercraft tilts downward. He grabs desperately at a door handle, trying to maintain his balance.
"Stay here." He says, wrenching a knife from his belt and stumbling towards the main cabin.
Like hell I will.
I struggle to get to my feet, my eyes shooting around to take in my surroundings. Ashton and Jess are no where to be seen, and I am alone in the sleeping area. All of the action seems to be coming from the main room.
I locate my axe, on the floor a few feet from the cot it was resting on. My hands wrap around it's cold hilt and I make my way to the door, my heart thundering in my chest.
Everything is in chaos. Michael is desperately trying to keep the aircraft under control, Jess and Ashton are pressed up against the wall behind the kitchen, and Ivy is hanging out of one of the broken windows, shooting wildly down below. Luke is trying to make sense of everything, yelling at her to get back in. I can't think straight.
The sky is spinning outside of the windows, and glass scatters the ground. The floor is dented from below, obviously from bullets, and Luke grabs Ivy from the back of her shirt and hauls her into the cabin just as one hits the sill where she was leaning. Michael swears, the hovercraft lurches, and all of us are sent sprawling onto the floor.
"Brace for impact!" Michael yells, before swerving the hovercraft so hard that everything slides to the left wall, including us. I can barely make out green grass and hills, an island, rapidly getting closer. We are so dead. We made it this damn far only to die in a fiery explosion before we can even get to the good fight.
A hand grasps mine, Jess. She's screaming, and I just screw my eyes shut and prepare for the inevitable, flattening my free palm on the cold metal floor.
Three, two, one....
Michael yells one last time, and then my whole body is being hurled forward into the opposite wall, my head slamming against the metal, and everything goes black.
**
It's well over an hour before the soldiers reach the crashed vehicle, having to cover a few miles of ground and rough terrain. Sweat is pouring down the faces of the men and women, and their weapons are drawn, because everybody saw the color of the vehicle and nobody is going to take any chances.
The hovercraft itself is damaged beyond repair, but big enough to take most of the impact on the outside shell. They were all built that way, so that in an event of a crash, the crew would have a better chance of surviving. Smoke is coming from the back end, the windows are all shattered, and the rubber fenders are engulfed in flames.
Carlton is about to step forward when movement occurs in the wreckage. Four soldiers ready their weapons, but he holds his hand up.
A girl emerges from one of the shattered windows, bruised and battered, glass stuck into several areas of her bare skin. Shes trembling, gripping onto the sill for dear life, struggling to pull herself up and out. She's wearing black pants, army boots, and what seems to be a sports bra. Her hair is brown and wild, singed at the ends, obscuring her face until she looks up and widens her blue eyes in shock.
Carlton's heart nearly stops beating. Disbelief rings through him, and his chest burns. The sword in his hand falls to the ground, and several long moments pass before he speaks, his voice breaking.
"Alexandra?"
•••
aw would ya look at that
IMPORTANT: I am heading off to a Christian retreat tonight and won't be back until Sunday, and I will not have my phone. This being said, the next update will be two days late, possibly a bit more, because it's the finale and it's going to be epic and really really long. Bear with me, you beautiful people.
See you soon and stay rad
Xoxo
~Camryn