𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬

CHAPTER 7: BLOOD OF MY BLOOD

His hands and forehead were scalped. He was bleeding on the street and seemed that he didn't even feel a thing. All his limbs were numb, and it all seemed lost, like the very reason for him to live was ripped away from his body.

"Mason?" I called for him.

My arm was burned from the explosion. I could barely move it and a big part of exposed skin was out.

"Mason, say something," I said.

He still didn't answer. He was looking to the ground with a blank expression as if there was no hope left in the world. That was not the Mason I knew. The Mason I knew would go after the cannibals and rip their arms off while singing a funny song.

I used my good arm to shake him, but he didn't respond. I could hear him muttering.

"It's my fault... I'm a terrible brother... Couldn't protect her..."

Suddenly, an immense feeling of sympathy overcame me. Those were the same phrases I repeated to myself every night before going to bed, and I knew that Mason was feeling exactly like me when it happened.

I thought of what I needed at the moment my world fell to pieces, but I couldn't think of anything, so I just did what came into my mind first: I slapped him very hard.

Mason's head flew back, and the rest of the body followed. He fell to the ground again and spit blood. He stood there for a few seconds before standing up and slapping me back.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he yelled.

I stood up as well and punched him in the face, making his body stumble from the impact because if there was one thing that I was, it was strong.

"DON'T BE A COWARD!" I shouted back. "YOU CAN STILL GO AFTER HER!"

He ran towards me and grabbed my neck, putting me onto the ground and standing on top of me. I could see his face better now. A mix between anger, hate, angst, and sadness was shaping itself on the serious face I've known for weeks, with tears still falling out of his furious green eyes.

"How...?" he asked with a weak voice. "How can I save her if they already took her?"

I pushed him away and inverted our positions, now he was under me.

"And?!" I yelled. "You killed five people because they hit me a few times, and when they kidnap your sister you stay there crying?! Where's the 'I'll make them suffer 10 times what they've caused' Mason? Because we need him right now!"

Mason didn't answer me. He just stood there, with a guilty expression on his face. I knew I was about to press a point I should never press, but I was desperate, and we needed action instantly.

"What do you think your father would do if your mother was kidnapped?"

Another punch landed on my face, and I felt my body fall to the ground again, on top of my burned arm, making me groan in pain before Mason stepped on my chest.

"Don't you fucking dare mention my father!" he said, now fully angry.

"Now that you're back, what about getting your fucking sister back?" I shot at him.

He looked at me with disgust.

"Son of a bitch," he said and got off me. "How do you do this?"

"I noticed," I got up with difficulty. "That anger is your most powerful fuel, and luckily, making you angry is rather easy,"

"I was destroyed just ten seconds ago, anger is not what fixed it!" he argued.

"Look, you shit. I know how that feels and I also know that if we don't take a fucking action right now, Maya's gone for good!" I yelled at him.