The Stronghold

Water Is Thicker Than Blood

Salt heard a familiar cry come from the top floor. His sister - adopted sister from adoptive family, but sister nonetheless.

Should he stay? His real brother had just died, but he might still be able to save her.

Deciding on the spur of a moment Salt ran, using the escalators to lend him speed and power as he sprang to the upper floors. Anger and fear radiated off him in waves and as he neared the top floor he saw the two people that were being held captive.

One was indeed his sister. The other was someone he didn't know, a very young boy wearing a smart tweed waistcoat. Tears trickled down the boy's face and every so often he would give a massive sniff, clearly terrified for his life.

"Let them go," Salt said, sounding braver than he felt. His hands were shaking but he continued to stand there, legs braced, eyes set in a cold glare.

"Why would you care?" an American man sneered. His wife was holding a knife to his sister's throat and she said something to him in Spanish.

"You're the Gormans," Salt realised. "I didn't know you worked for Hurricane."

"We don't," the woman said. "We are freelance. Hurricane took us on to try and capture you."

"What have they got against us?"

"We don't know that," the man answered. "Why not ask them?"

"Let these two go first," Salt ordered. The man laughed and drew a short knife from his pocket.

"Only if you tell us their names," the man said, tracing the boy's cheekbones with the blade. He whimpered and shut his eyes, tears causing the knife to slip and cut a deep gash onto his cheek.

"Nadja," Salt said, pointing to the girl with the bubblegum pink hair. "Meaning hope."

"And this one?" the woman said, shoving Nadja towards Salt but pointing her knife at the boy. Salt hugged Nadja close to him and hesitated. He'd never seen the boy before but at the same time didn't want him to die.

"Bench?" Shaade cried, covered in water but brushing his quiff back up to its usual style with more urgency than usual. Once it was sorted he took a second look at the boy.

"Bench? Yes, it is you!" He cheered and ran over to hug the child, ruffling his tawny hair and throwing him up into the air. The boy gave a weak laugh and wrapped his arms around Shaade's neck, burying his face in the man's shoulder.

"Shaade, I'm afraid," the boy whispered. He must have been about eleven years old.

"I know," Shaade whispered back. "So am I."

"The thing is," the man scowled, "is that Salt here didn't say this fellow's name. And so one of them has to die."

"I am made of metal," Nadja announced. "Let me." She stepped away from Salt's embrace and spread her arms wide. The man and woman shrugged in unison and drew guns. The bullets went straight through Nadja and with a whirr she powered down forever.

But the bullets didn't embed themselves in the metal. They continued flying, slamming into Salt's chest at over a hundred miles an hour. The pain that had been building in his head was coupled with a fiery sensation in his chest.

Salt had time to glance down and see blood staining his dark top. Raising an eyebrow and twitching his mouth into a smile Salt crumpled to the floor, red eyes seeing no more.

*

The body could feel the last reserves draining away, less than a second away from complete brain death. It could also feel another weight pulling on its mind, another's life. This other being was barely alive and needed life.

The body gathered together all its life, all that made it tick, and sent it to the other body, happy to rest with the knowledge that they had saved someone they loved.

*

I jolted upright, a pounding in my heat and a dull pain in my chest. I was gasping for air and could feel my skin knitting back together.

To my surprise, despite it being the worst pain, there was no wound in my chest. My hair was sticky from the blood and was matted together. I teased the knots out of my hair, wincing all the while as my scalp was slightly stretched and pulled.

"Ow," I hissed, pulling a piece of china out of my head. "How did that get there?"

I heard a shriek and looked up just in time to see Tom's astonished eyes meet mine. A second later he was blocked from view by someone hugging me tightly, sobbing what seemed to be a waterfall all over my face.

"Calm down," I murmured, brushing a strand of hair off Georgina's face and wiping away a few tears. "I'm alive."

"So much blood," she choked, "and you were so cold..."

"Pepper, you are a miracle child," Tom said, shaking his head. "You were definitely dead and then bam, you're alive."

"I don't think I was dead," I frowned, nudging Georgina off me and wobbling to my feet. "I mean, my head hurts pretty badly. Zombie don't feel pain, do they?"

"You three are under arrest!" a security guard shouted. There was a flash of anger in the calm of Tom's sea green eyes and he whirled around, shooting a jet of ice directly at the man's heart. He thudded to the ground and went down the escalator, sliding into the fountain with a soft splash.

"That takes care of him," he muttered, dusting off his hands.

"Where's Salt?" I asked suddenly, beginning to get an idea of what the ache in my chest was. My friends both shrugged and I lurched up the next set of escalators, making sure I got the correct one this time.

"Shaade, where's Salt?" I asked, seeing the shadow demon. He had a smaller, sadder version of himself in his arms and I shook it off.

Shaade pointed, his eyes dull. I frowned slightly at his expression and followed the direction of his quivering finger.

It was as if I'd died all over again. Salt was lying on the floor, blood pooling around his chest. His face was turned away from me yet I already knew what I was about to see. Tilting his head towards me I had to hold back a scream, the sight worse than I had reckoned. His eyes had melted, rich red liquid running down his cheeks. His face was paler than usual and his hair was slowly drying out.

A tear fell from my face onto his cheek and he crumbled, turning to ash, dust and scraps of material in my hands. They all flowed together to join the pool on the tiles, staining my jeans and staining my heart.

"Why?" I whispered, feeling someone put their hand on my shoulder. "What did he do to deserve... this?"

"Nothing, but he wasn't actually real," Dad said gently. "He was a chemical experiment, that's why he never looked like you and was never allowed to meet you. Too much pressure would have done this to him anyway, in the end."

My brain couldn't process what I'd just been told. "He's... not real?"

"He wasn't real," Dad corrected. "We wanted to give you siblings but by the time I'd made him we'd decided against it."

"We?" I hissed venomously, rising to my feet and grabbing the lapels of Dad's shirt in one swift movement. "You mean, you and the mother I never met? The person who is just a voice in my memory, not even a face? Was she fake, too? Am I even real?" I was crying tears of bitter anger, well aware that there was an audience gathering.

"You are, Pepper," Dad said in that infuriatingly soft tone. "You're my own flesh and blood. Think of Salt as... water. I am blood. Blood is thicker than water, yes?"

I hesitated, glancing downwards to think. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dad give a small smile and that sparked my anger again. Forcing him backwards and hurling him over the glass barrier that separated shoppers from a forty foot drop to the marble floor below I had only one thing to say to him.

"Water is thicker than blood."