The Forgotten

Pandemonium

"You. Filthy. Little." I don't finish the sentence, because Will shoves me off of him and onto the ground.

"Eris, just stop," he says, sounding a bit too nonchalant to convince me this isn't affecting him. His pain is my gain, so I get up and punch him in the face. He stagers backward and I tackle him.

Shain and Lance are just watching now. I don't blame them. I could just shoot Will, make it quick and easy, but it wouldn't be right. I can't shoot him in an un-provoked attack. However, I can physically fight him in an un-provoked fight.

Will grabs me in the ribcage area and hoists me off of him. Suddenly I'm up in the air like a ballerina in a romantic duet. Well, there's nothing romantic about this duet...and I doubt any ballerina ever attempted to bite the person supporting her.

I manage to pry Will's fingers off me, resulting in me collapsing on top of him again. Our foreheads slam together, creating unimaginable pain. All I can do to help my injury is hope Will's is at least as painful as mine. I'd prefer if it was purgatory painful. Maybe even Hell miserable.

Finally Will reverses the position. Pinning me to the floor, he wipes blood of his face. I don't know if it's his or mine.

Forcibly, he takes my gun away from me.

'Nice weapon," he says, examining it. I squirm. I'm not overly comfortable with the position we're in, especially considering he already likes my body. "You steal it?"

I try to bring up my knee and kick him. He shifts slightly and it immobilizes both of my legs. I still have my arms though.

I slap the gun out of his hand. Will looks surprised, but not as surprised as when I intentionally slam my head into his.

Blood trickles down my forehead. I don't care. I just want him to pay.

"Eris, stop, he's not worth it," Lance says. I stop fighting Will to face him. Big mistake.

Will yanks me up off the ground and shoves me against the lockers.

He says, "Eris, I don't want to hurt you."

"Too late," I snap. "You hurt me the moment you killed one of my friends." Will sneers.

"Jess was not your friend."

"You killed, Jess?" Shain asks, sounding horrified. An icy chill fills the air. Shain picks the gun off the floor.

"Shain," Lance says carefully.

"Shut up, you," Shain snaps. "I still don't trust or believe you. I'd stay out of the way if I were you." I hear footsteps. I can't tell if they're Shain's or Lance's (Shain didn't wear heels today).

Then, like an explosion, I hear a gunshot. Will cries out and releases me. I bend down to see the bullet wound. Fortunately Shain only shot him in the arm.

Fortunately? I should be disappointed he isn't dying.

I shake the dark thoughts. There's been enough death lately. I don't want anyone else, no matter how scummy they are.

"You witch!" Will exclaims. I'm guessing that insult is directed at Shain. I can't be certain though.

"You killed Jess," Shain states. "You're lucky I'm not killing you."

"Shain," Lance repeats. "It's starting, in the auditorium. If we don't go now, your father and brother are going to die." Shain whirls on him.

"They are going to die?" she asks, her voice shaky.

I realize, "That's what Janessa was talking about. The Forgotten are going to kill the figurehead of the entire system, the President and his children. They're probably going to kill you too Shain." I turn to Will.

"Tell us the whole plan, now," I order, glaring at him, "otherwise, we'll kill you." Will laughs.

"Come on, Eris. I know you. You wouldn't shoot me." I snatch the gun from Shain's fingertips and fire again, this time in both legs.

"You're running out of limbs, Scarlet," I remind him. I try to sound as threatening as possible. Will raises his good arm.

He reluctantly agrees, "Fine, I'll tell you what I can."

"Then talk," Shain orders. Will looks at Lance.

"How come you're letting them pull this crap, huh?" he asks. I press the gun against Will's temple.

Lance replies, "They took my gun. I don't wanna die. I'm not stupid." Will sneers.

"Or are you just letting your personal connections influence you?" Will asks. I press the tip of the gun harder.

"He's the smart one right now," I tell him, "for whatever reason. I'd recommend you cooperate too."

"I'm telling you," Will says, "all I know is that we're going to take out the world leaders next. Today we're slaughtering the rest of the aristocracy's youth. This will punish the leaders before we kill them. This will show them how easily the perfect are destroyed."

I reply, "That's sick. You're nothing like I remember." Will frowns.

"What do you remember?" he inquires, looking, for the first time this entire discussion, not quite so hostile.

I remember freedom and comfort and...as hokey as it sounds...love. You were someone who could make me feel safe and content.

None of this I tell him, or anyone else for that matter. I just purse my lips.

"That doesn't matter," Shain says. "What matters is stopping this." Will shakes his head.

"Look, even if I wanted to stop this, I can't. No one can. They're going to kill your father, your brother, then they'll come after you." He looks at Lance. "And once they find out you've switched sides, they'll get you too. I mean, the Vice President's son would be quite a catch."

Lance scowls.

"I get why Jersey and York and every other stinkin' Forgotten is going this," Lance states. "They've had to endure crap, even after they left the Compound. You always seemed different though. You had hope, and you...well...you at least pretended you were content. You sure made us feel like there was something to live for. You loved life."

"Things change," Will says bitterly.

"Like what?" I demand. "Come on. You said you've always cared about me. If you ever did, you would give me a reason."

I try not to focus on the blood gushing from the gunshot wounds I created. And Shain, but I was more to blame than she was. I sparked the fight, and I finished it. I still am finishing it.

Hopefully he won't bleed out. I can't afford to worry about that now. I'm not being cruel, I'm being sensible. I can't risk this whole operation to get Will to treatment.

Will looks at me for a good, long, agonizing second. I wait patiently for his explanation. I can't push him, or he'll keep wasting our time. We need answers, more of them. Who can we trust? Who can't we?

Not knowing sucks.