Precedent

Chapter Eighteen

I collapse to my knees. I'm sobbing hysterically. Why do I have to cry like this in front of Franklin? Why can't I be strong? I promised my mother I'd be strong. Now look at me, falling apart. I can't afford to fall apart.

But I can't hold myself together.

"How could you do this?" I exclaim. My voice has cracked. Taylor could be dying. My mom is dying. Drew is probably already dead. I don't even know if he was alive before Franklin shot him. There's no way he could've lived through that.

"I had to, Olivia," Franklin tells me, calmly drinking his coffee. "You were growing too attached, and he was no good for you. Please try to understand that."

I grab a fancy ornament from the table and chuck it at his head. It shatters the odd cup, but doesn't touch Franklin. The cup saved him from a nasty bruise.

"Olivia," he says in a tone that suggests he's chastising me, "Didn't your parents ever teach you to respect your grandparents?"

"Because of your awful war I don't even know my parents," I snap, regaining my composure. I'm going to make him pay. He's going to pay for what he's done to Taylor, and Venus, and Drew. Especially Drew.

To my horror, Franklin laughs.

"Are you really pining over a boy who probably didn't even love you? Didn't even remember that you loved him?" he asks. I stand up straighter.

"No," I reply. My voice is strong this time. It's strong like my mother's. "I'm mourning a good fighter, a good man. I'm mourning someone I loved. He didn't have to love me back. I don't care if he ever loved me. I care about the fact that, because of you, he'll never love again. You took away everything I loved and your war took away everything I could have loved. I know now what I've missed. I'm not going to miss any more."

"Does this mean you're joining me?" he asks. I hear a hint of hope in his voice.

Now it's my turn to laugh. It's my turn to crush his hopes and dreams.

This time, I get to destroy rather than be destroyed.

I look around for something I can use as a weapon. I see a pan on the stove. It's a pan of grease. If I could get to the pan, I could hit him with it. I know I won't be able to get to it.

Feeling defeated, I put my hands into my pockets. I feel something cold to the touch in my right one. My eyes widen. It's the lighter Drew gave me!

I withdraw it carefully. I've got an idea now. It could get me killed, but it's my only option.

I pop the top and flip the lighter on. Franklin frowns.

"What are you doing?" Franklin demands. I grin.

"Lighting your world," I reply excitedly. I throw the lighter at the stove. To my delight it lands right in the pan of grease.

The oily substance ignites instantly. I run to the cabinet. To my further pleasure, there are old batteries. I throw them at the fire. Heat blasts from the batteries as they ignite and fall to the floor.

Remembering gasoline upstairs, I make a mad dash up them. I snatch the half empty can and leap over the banister. I land on the kitchen island. I spray the flammable substance everywhere.

Franklin screams "Now your world shall burn!" as the flames spread up his pants. I decide my work here is done.

I jump to the floor and run over to where Drew still lies on the floor. I try not to look at the fresh blood all over him as I drag him to the door. I freeze when I remember my mother. I leave Drew at the door and go back into the building for Venus.

The air is full of smoke now. It's getting harder to breathe. I cover my mouth with my sleeve, although it too has some smoke on it. It's better than the alternative though.

I find my mother decently enough. She's barely conscious and coughing from the smoke. When I try to move her, her communicator tumbles out of her pocket. I pick it up hastily and dial H.Q. Willis answers.

"Mission Leader, where are you? I've been..."

"Never-mind where you've been," I snap impatiently. "It's me, Olivia Ardal. I've got an S.O.S. Can you trace this call?"

"Of course, but..."

"Then do it," I order. "There's a fire. I'm here with A-M, Mission Leader, and the Originator. We..."

Suddenly the communicator is snatched from my hand. I scream as the same hand his me on the face. I lash out and kick their legs out from under them. When they crash to the ground, I see it's Franklin.

"No!" I scream. He shoves me hard, knocking me to the ground. I scramble backwards, making sure to stay in front of my mother. Franklin points his gun at me.

"Is she still alive?" I know I have to lie. I shake my head. Franklin snarls.

"Don't play with me, girl!" he snaps. "I know she's alive."

"She's not," I plead. "Reinforcements from R.A. O.F. are coming. You're going to be arrested and locked away forever! Unless you die first." He hits me with the gun. The side of my face aches.

"I'll shoot you both," he warns. "You don't have to die, Olivia."

"No," I agree, "but you do!" I kick the gun out of his hands. I would have worried that he'd shoot me, but he seems to have forgotten that he already told me he had two bullets left. He used them both on A-M.

I move quickly, dragging my mother to the top of the stairs. I don't know how much time I have. The fire is spreading quickly. Franklin is looking for a weapon and I don't know how long it'll take him to find out. That doesn't matter though. What matters is the fact that I need to be gone by the time either he finds a sufficient killing machine or the smoke gets thick enough to suffocate us all.

I push my mother over the banister, making sure she lands on the couch. I jump over after her. Once on the ground, I continue dragging her. It's harder now that's I'm closer to the smoke. It's hard to breathe. I can barely take in any oxygen. Is this what suffocating feels like?

I don't know where Franklin is, but I don't have time to care. The fire alarm has started going off now. The sprinklers are on. I don't know how I've survived this long.

I am able to get Mission Leader to the door where Drew still lies motionless. I hold back tears as I move Drew into the hallway. Then I get my mother.

Once they're safe, I hurry over to the window. I see an emergency crew below. I sigh with relief. Everything might be okay.

I turn around to head back to the door when Franklin appears out of nowhere. He looks horrible. He must have gone through the fire, because his skin is charred. He brandishes a kitchen knife.

Lunging at me, Franklin accidentally cracks the glass behind me. This seems to give him an idea. Wrapping his hands around my throat, he breaks more of the window. I realize what he's going to do: force me to plunge to my death.

I bite his finger, forcing him to let go. Spitting his blood on the ground, I wrestle with him, struggling to get him in a position where I could pin him.

I am unsuccessful.