Consuming Fire

Chapter 57

The ground came up to meet Will and he braced himself for the impact, but it did not come from where he thought it would. Something clamped around his waist, and instead of hitting the ground, he started to soar back up into the air again.

Will's eyes opened.

He was flying.

"What the-"

"You're an idiot!" said the guy with his arms around him. His accent was distinctly Spanish and he had short-shaved hair and scratchy clothing. Will wriggled from his arms, but he'd already dropped him at the top of the cliff where Ella and the others were still standing.

Will scrambled to his feet and turned to jump from the cliff again, but suddenly the flying man was there, shoving him back.

"Stay away from me," said Will. "I don't need you to save me."

"No," he said, "You just need someone to snap you out of this suicide phase."

"Zokani, don't-"

Will felt some kind of force inside him take over, and next thing he knew, he was throwing his fist into Zokani's jaw. His head snapped to the side. Someone behind him gasped. Zokani touched his chin gently and then looked back at Will with a glare that could have burned holes in him.

"Fine," he snapped and stepped aside with his arm outstretched. "You want to be a coward and not face your grief? Go ahead."

Will's shoulders shook with anger. He couldn't comprehend where this rage had come from or why he was taking it out on a stranger. But he couldn't be around them. He needed to see Fearne.

So for the second time that day, he jumped.

But not once did he see her. He saw a shape, a white shape, but couldn't make out her face. Pain spliced through his legs as they snapped in half. The crack of his bones was almost as loud as his scream. His body tumbled to the side and he rolled in the orange dirt. He coughed, tasting metal and salt in his mouth, and when he looked up at the cliff he'd jumped from, Ella and her friends were no longer peering over the edge. They must've grown tired of his act, just as Zokani had.

On his fifth try, Will looked around for Fearne, his vision blurry from the pain. He saw dried bushes and mounds of dirt, an arch between two more cliff faces and a slope down the way that dropped over more cliff edges.

He groaned into the dirt, clenching his muscles, confused as to why Fearne did not appear. Where the hell was she to pull him into a better place, away from the pain? How could he live without seeing her again?

Will couldn't take it. "Fearne!" he screamed at the mountain, her name echoing throughout the valley. "FEARNE!!"

His frustration grew as his legs healed together again. He threw his fist into the dirt, not hard enough for it to break, the tears building up in his throat until he was heaving wretched sobs, rocking back and forth. He was alone, and he would never see her again, no matter how much pain he went through.

He sat there staring at the valley for a long time until he decided he needed to burn off some frustration. After climbing up the mound to the hatch and entering the cool compound, he didn't even go back to his room to shower.

He went straight to Chevie.

He passed two SSS members who gave him startled looks and pointed hesitantly to the stairs when he asked them where Chevie's room was. Ward B, they told him. He was released from containment that morning. Something about good faith. Will thanked them and stalked down the stairs until he found Chevie's room. As he waited for him to open the door, he felt jittery and ready for a fight.

Chevie's door opened and Will pounced on him. Before Chevie could recover himself, they were rolling on the floor, grabbing each other's shirts and throwing wild punches. Will was angry and Chevie was just trying to defend himself. Will managed to get in a few hits before suddenly, he was being lifted off the ground.

Will looked to his left, his feet swinging above the floor, and saw an older man with very pronounced muscles clenching the back of his shirt. Will was so shocked that he stopped kicking. Chevie rolled over and ran around his studded leather sofa, his hands raised.

"Please, Will, let me explain-"

"Put me down!" Will yelled. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Alistair, Chevie's dad." He gently dropped Will, who stepped back and shoved his shirt straight. "And you need to stop hitting my son."

Will nodded. "Right. Okay. So you're the man who's alive because this wanker stole Joshua's Ravenadium and used it to bring you back to life when we needed it to save Fearne? And now you have what, super strength?"

"Hey, I didn't ask for this."

"Dad, I can handle it," said Chevie. "Could you please just give us a minute? I'll meet you at your room."

Nodding, Alistair walked away, closing the door behind him. Chevie and Will circled the sofa. Will didn't even pay attention to the details of the room, brightened by the open window displaying a view of the valley. He clenched his fists, ready for more blood to be shed. "I didn't have a choice, okay. You would have done the same thing!"

"No, I wouldn't, because I know the consequences of when people do selfish things. Other people get hurt."

Chevie's arms dropped. "Look, I'm not gonna say I regret what I did. He saved my life – I had to return the favor. Plus, he's the only family I've got."

Will scoffed. "Right, because your family loved you. You dad risked his life for you. Mine threw me to Wolfe and walked away. Fearne was the only person who believed in me, who mattered to me, for fifteen years growing up in ICE. And now she's ... she's ..."

Will broke down again. The pain was too fresh, and it would not heal like he was used to. He dropped down on the sofa and put his head in his hands.

He could hear Chevie rummaging around in his cupboards. Next thing Will knew, there was a glass with some kind of toxic liquid held under his face.

"I know how to take it all away." Chevie's expression was apologetic and genuine. Will knew he should hate the guy and keep trying to throttle him, but he wanted more than that to get rid of the agony of his loss. He took the glass and sniffed it. It made him cough.

Chevie smiled. "First drink, eh?"

Will nodded.

"Then let me introduce you to the ever so potent Mr. Johnnie Walker."

"Is it strong?" asked Will.

"Don't worry," said Chevie and he skulled his glass in three mouthfuls, wincing. "It tastes better after a few. And besides, we Brits gotta stick together. Drink up."

Will stared at the glass and shook his head. If it makes it go away.

He dropped the glass on the table, picked up the bottle and skulled it.

"Uh-" said Chevie, "-I don't think you should."

He lowered the bottle half way through. "It's not going to last long – I bet you alcohol doesn't even affect me."

"We'll see," Chevie smiled.