Always

Chapter Nineteen

Six's POV

Tuesday Night

I hold a dagger in my hand, spinning it, I glance over at where the shadowy figure is. He looks normal to the untrained eye, but I could never miss him. I wonder if Walker thought I would. He  sits on a bench, waiting for his ride. It's not a particularly quiet area, but I don't need quiet to make this easy. The few cars whizz by and a few people stumble around, either drunk or scared and trying to get out of the eerie town.

I wonder where this one was hiding. He must have ran after the war. Who knows what he's been doing, or if he's been working with any others that are still out there. The thought makes me tense.

Walker called me a few hours ago and told me that she wouldn't be able to make it here to take care of this. She told me everything that was to be done with what I would find. I'm eager to finally do something.

Once the place is clear of almost everyone. Or anyone here would be too influenced to remember. I take a step closer, the figure turns his head, but quickly dismisses whatever he thought he sensed. I stalk behind him, lurking a few feet away. He looks down at his watch nervously. I get closer, wait a little longer, make him sweat. Then using my mind, I rip his gun from him.

I stab him from behind.

He lets out a short groan and tries to fight back but I stab again.

A few areas of the him float away in ash, but the majority of him remains.

I float the body and a bag he carried to a alley and search the bag. I find a communication device, money, clothes, and finally, the black goo. I pocket the goo and take off with the bag.

Once I get to the abandoned building of Walker's instruction, I find the equipment I will need and burn everything in the bag except the goo. I then take a vial of sizzling liquid and allow it to destroy the goo. I sigh, satisfied, and put out the fire, leaving nothing but a pile of ash. My job is done.

...
Wednesday

"You never plan on changing your name, do you?" John asks randomly, we sit across from each other at lunch.

"Not really," I say with a shrug.

I know I had a real name on Lorien, not just a number, but I don't remember it. And all the fake ones just don't fit the bill. Besides, Six who I am.

"Some times I wonder why you all just kept me as John," He says. "And didn't call me Four."

"We did the same thing with Marina," I say.

"Yeah."

Our conversations become absentmindedly talking to each other.

My mind though, is going over every word John spilled to me. He just about read his journal to me from memory, if he had one. I was surprised to hear a few things. I have a feeling he told me that, not because he wants me to pity him, but because he needed to tell someone. And I, shockingly, am his best bet.

I'd always wondered what Sam and I would do after the war other than travel, but I never considered other possibilities. I realize John is the other possibility, if I say yes to this feeling tugging me.