When Lightning Strikes

Chapter 8 part 2

I scrambled out from underneath my father's body. Looking across the meadow the battle was still going strong, but my father lay at my feet face down in the dirt, the knife sticking awkwardly out of the side of hiss chest. I felt around in my heart searching for sympathy, but I found none.

I did wish things were different. I wished my father had gotten over the fact that he had another child, and that he would just have to deal with it. I wished my mother would've stood up for herself and expressed her feelings to my father instead of turning to drugs. I wished Caitlin hadn't looked up to my father so much, and fallowed in his footsteps. That's all gone now. I never had to think about it again.

Several of my father's soldiers had turned around and saw his unconscious body in the grass and carefully turned around and fled into the trees. As planned Brianna, Aaron, and the rest of group A dotted the perimeter fending off the last few people of the army that was by now nearly defeated.

The sun was gone by now and the chilly evening breeze filled the air making me teeth chatter slightly. The hair on my neck stood on end as I spotted my sister. She came at me limping with her left leg. It was almost ironic that Caitlin's father who claimed to really love her most likely dragged her into battle himself.

"You have no place here Caitlin," I half whispered as my sister shot me a cold unforgiving look.

"As usual you're wrong again, you killed him Claire how can I forgive the person who tore our family apart?"

I took a step forward careful to not loose my temper like the night back at my house where Caitlin had purposely got we worked up just so she could see me punished "I was part of the family too, and I never forgave any of you for what you turned me into."

"What-"

I abruptly cut her off. "Until now I felt like I was worthless, that if I just disappeared no one would care at all."

"Nothings changed, everyone still hates you. I still hate you," Caitlin snarls turning and limping away.

I had no thoughts except for one. I didn't care. I had my own family now, one I had to fight for, to earn, and wasn't going to let some snobby teenage sister of mine to get in the way. Until now I thought we had made a nice clean victory.

About twenty recruits lay wounded on the grass sprawled out in front of me. I dashed over to where Ayden was attempting to carry a half conscious boy; I think I remember someone calling him Erik, over to Emily's tent.

"Show me how to do that," I insisted to Ayden wiping the sweat from my palms that still lingered from stabbing my father.

"Okay," Ayden murmurs shyly leaving the boy by the entrance of the tent.

"First you check for any devastating wounds, like chest or stomach blows," he informs felling around the cut of a girl in group C with completely shattered clothing probably from a few close calls from arrows.

I cautiously approach a girl, Lauren, another girl I practiced with in group A, and began eyeing her chest and stomach. She looked more alert than the boy Ayden had been helping, but her eyes were squeezed shut from pain and she was tightly gripping her ankle. I carefully pulled back her pant leg to inspect her injury, and nearly staggered backward from horror.

There was about a four inch gash across it. It looked deep and the flesh around the wound had been seared away. If Emily wasn't vigilant it could easily get infected.

Ayden's words catch my attention, "next you roll them over carefully inspecting the rest of their body," I nodded turning back to Lauren.