Adam's Pulse

Part 30

Chapter 30

Sloan stared at the bag on her bed, not wanting to wonder how it had gotten there.  Inside was almost everything from her apartment, which was sad if she allowed herself to really think about it.  Had that been all that was worth of her life; a duffle bag full of a couple changes of clothes, a picture of her and her brother, some toiletries, and a gun?  Letting out a deep sigh, she walked towards that bag.  They had already told her that the clothing would have to be rewashed using some type of soap they were forced to use.  She wouldn’t complain about that fact, knew that they didn’t do it as a power play.  How long had she actually been with these people?  Long enough to trust them, no, but for some odd reason, she did.

Her hand reached into the bag, and the first thing that she felt was the handgun that she had purchased as soon as her brother had gone missing.  She pulled the thing out, laughing a little at how useless she now realized it was.  To the shifters she now was with, her bullets would most likely only sting before pissing them off.  She flipped it over in her hand while letting out a sigh.  There hadn’t even been a chance for her to use it.  Sure, she’d went to the shooting range, anyone who was going to purchase a gun should know how to use it, but other than that, she hadn’t even pretended to pull the trigger.

Sliding the magazine out, she noticed that her bullets were gone.  In their place were more bullets, but not the lead ones that she was using.  Frowning, she eased one from the chamber and widened her eyes when she realized that the bullets that were now in her gun were coated in silver.  Had they honestly given her a weapon that could kill them?  Had they trusted her enough to allow her to hold one of their biggest weaknesses?  She tossed the clip onto her bed, checking to make sure there wasn’t a bullet in the chamber before clicking the safety, just in case, and setting it beside the clip.  There was no way she was chancing that thing going off, not when it wasn’t only her it could hurt.

She rummaged around in the bag, and when her hand touched a box, she automatically knew what it was.  When she opened it, she saw the ammo lined up, enough for her to do some serious damage to a lot of shifters, if she had wanted too.  She went to put the lid back on the box of bullets, doubting she would ever need them, but something caught her eye.  Placing the bullets on the bed, she flipped the top over, noticing for the first time that there was a note taped on the inside.

“Believe me,” she whispered, reading the words aloud.  “You’ll need them.  Love, Barron.”

Staring at the note, she shivered.  She knew that Barron was being comical, in his own little way by signing a little heart before his name, but the slash through it only made her want to lock her doors.  Maybe that was what he was trying to do, maybe he was trying to scare her into keeping the gun on her at all times.  She glanced over at the object before letting out a sigh.  She wasn’t going to be goaded into anything, at least not at that exact moment.

The top to the box of bullets slid on easily as she felt around in her bag for the one thing that she had to make sure was still there.  When her fingertips touched cold metal, she let out a relieved sigh.  The picture frame emerged from her bag, along with a picture of both her and Slator.  Running her finger across the glass, she felt her eyes water slightly.  This had been their thirteenth birthday, one of the only ones that they had actually been happy for.  Their smiles were large and happy, not underlined with that cynicism that she seemed to carry with her now.

Walking towards the dresser, she propped the frame up before wiping angrily at the tears that trailed down her cheeks.  It was her own fault that she was in this predicament to begin with.  She was the one who had turned her back on Slator.  He hadn’t treated her any differently when he had found out they weren’t really related, that they only thing that they shared were adoptive parents.  It had been her who had let her fears cloud her judgment.  She had been the one to say the harsh words she hadn’t really meant, and now it was her who had to apologize, before things got too out of hand.  She had to apologize before the chance to do so disappeared.