Gold Fever (m×m) ✔

XXVII: Saving Elian Phoenix

《 ASPEN GRISWOLD 》

I hadn't seen the lynx since Pierre and Willow joined me. I had started to consider it as an unbiased guide, nudging me in the right direction. To have it missing felt wrong in so many ways, but nothing short of incapacitating my companions was going to change their minds. It didn't take me long to find out why.

Lorena, the nice old woman, had turned into gold along with a few other withstanding citizens of Downtown Asheville a couple of weeks ago. If I were to guess, it was just around the time Phoenix and Najwa had their fight. Ever since, Pierre had been gathering up people to avenge Phoenix once and for all. Not to bring anyone back, as he didn't believe that to be possible, but to make sure Phoenix suffered like he did.

Willow was the first offering her assistance for the cause. Not without reason. She lost her parents, one of them being Pierre's sister, in the first wave, then her big brother in the second one. All she had left was her fanatic uncle, who had taken her under his wing like she was his daughter, and their shared frenzy for avenging Phoenix.

"Who were you talking to?" Willow asked, tramping over a dry branch and making it grate under her shoe. "When I came to the clearing?"

The more time I spent with Willow, the more I realized she was pure hatred; an open wound ready to react with violence to anyone who got too close. I couldn't blame her or Pierre for hating Phoenix, but killing him wouldn't take away that pain. Since when has violence been the answer to violence?

I wanted to believe in their cause, I wanted to be the hero, the killer, they thought I was. But my brain wouldn't stop shouting at me: this is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

"It was just the fever talking." I swatted the question away, pushing my hands deeper into my pockets. I couldn't walk as fast as I wanted to, but Pierre was carrying my backpack for me and they never hurried me. 

Stop them.

Make them turn back.

This isn't the right way.

This. Is. Wrong. 

"Will anyone be waiting for you at home when this is all over?" Pierre asked. Apart from talking about the copious ways he was going to make Phoenix pay for what he did, his favorite subject was what will happen after Phoenix is no longer with us.

I don't mean to speak ill of Pierre, he's helped me too much for that, but there is a line between dedication and fanaticism. One which Pierre had crossed a good while ago.

"My girlfriend, Liz, and my sisters." I answered, but even as I said so, a part of it didn't ring true. As of late, I had started to question the things I once took for granted. "And my parents, if.."

"For sure, for sure." Pierre hummed when I left the rest of my sentence hang in the air. His smile didn't reach his eyes, which remained sorrowful, when he patted my shoulder. "And you'll return as a hero."

You'll return a broken man, if you return at all, my mind offered. 

The further we walked, the louder my thoughts became. My heart was thundering in my chest, the growing sense of panic twisting my insides into knots. I wanted to believe in father's prophecy and that Pierre was doing the right thing, but that was madness. 

Even if the end justifies the means, even if Phoenix were evil, even if I hadn't found the book. I should have never listened to father, whose theories had been wrong before. Just as he thought he knew everything about my life, I was the one to choose what was right for me.

It was about time for me to make my own decisions, and I knew killing Phoenix was wrong. I had to speak out the truth, even if it meant Pierre and Willow were going to turn their backs to me. More importantly, I had to at least try to do the right thing, and to stop being a coward.