Fury and Flame | 3

3 | 8

F I N N

      Water splashed under the platform we walked upon—the ocean was raging far below our feet, frothing and swirling. The only thing keeping us from the merciless waves was a steel slab. I tried not to dwell on it for too long; there was much more to fear here than the might of nature.

      This was an off-limits pathway at the harbor, hanging off the main building. But of course, the law didn't mean anything to this group. In fact, even I was beginning to forget law enforcement didn't allow us to do whatever we wanted. From my team, I'd learned that some people were willing to do anything for what they desired. Sometimes, the ends did justify the means.

      Especially in this case. Blinking the salty sea air out of my eyes, I looked out to the gray line of the horizon line, dividing the ocean from the cloudy sky. If we didn't step in, more innocent people would be subjected to Imperium's control. They'd be taken far past the horizon and added to Imperium's already massive army.

      I knew some of the others thought this was a fool's errand: stopping the flow of new recruits to Imperium's was trying to hold back the ocean. But I surprisingly agreed with Benton: we had to take small steps to be able to make large bounds later on. And any life saved was a victory.

      Benton led the group, head held high. His switchblade was hidden in a clenched fist. Kane wasn't here to keep his brother in check; I wondered what an unbridled Benton Shires would be like. I had a feeling we were about to find out.

      I didn't understand him. He didn't seem to care for anyone—not even his brother or Delphinium much, and certainly not the rest of us. But he clearly wanted Orion dead more than anything. And that alone was enough to make me have an unsteady respect for him. He'd spent five years imprisoned by the man and hadn't let it break him.

      It reminded me of when we first joined the team; at first, I'd been wary of Jake and Arlo. They both seemed a bit...off. In different ways. Like there were some necessities to be a normal human and they lacked them—possibly burned out by the cruelty of the world. Whatever it was, I saw it in the erratic way they acted, the unusual way they thought. It didn't make me view them as any less; that was just who they were and I accepted them for it. But now I was beginning to think Benny was the same. 

      He and Delphinium knew the way to the dock where the Imperium ship would be taking the recruits to be loaded. The latter was much less emboldened by this heroic plan as Benny was; she hung near me at the back of the group. Like the rest of us, Delphinium was a bit more trustworthy of Benton after his speech earlier. But she was still hesitant; I could see it in the way she watched him like he could turn and grab her at any moment.

      Then it struck me: this was the place she'd been taken as a child. This was where her first real brush with Imperium took place. No wonder she was so skittish.

      "You don't have to do this," I told her in a voice low enough to only be audible to her. "You don't have to go back there."

      She watched me for a split second too long, probably surprised I'd said anything. "Yes, I do."

      I understood; she thought she had to somehow pay for what she'd done. I felt the exact same way about murdering the ONNT soldier. Even the thought of it—the melting body, the vacant eyes—was enough to make me nauseous. I often laid awake at night and wondered if anything I did would be enough to atone for what I'd done.

      So I told her what I needed to hear. "You don't have to suffer for what they did to you. War makes people do things they'd never do. Survival is instinct. However bad whatever you did was, I think you can start to make it right by trying to do better." I didn't quite believe it, not all the way. But it was what I wished I could believe.