Chapter 4

This is bad. This is really, really bad. 

Blood roars within my ears. My heartbeat bounces around inside my own head, brain thinking a mile a minute. What do I do? What do we do? New York is our home. New York is my home. I can't just sit here and watch it be destroyed. A killer migraine begins to form inside my head. I rub my temples, trying to even out my breathing.

I inhale a sharp breath, "I can't believe I'm going to say this," I begin, "but we can't leave. Not if New York is about to be wiped off the face of the earth," my voice shakes as I speak.

I realize the feeling I'm experiencing as fear.

I haven't experienced this kind of fear since my father passed--rather, he was assumed to have passed. The butterflies forming in the pit of my stomach, a cold sweat that steals over my body, all of it was what I experienced when it was announced that my father, Kole Zachary, was assumed dead. The only thing I can think about is what he said to me months ago.

"One day, Bay. I won't be here. And one day—one fateful, fretful day, New York won't be here either."

Is it a fluke that he knew the destruction of New York was coming right before his death, or did he know something the rest of us don't? It isn't like my father to be a man of secrets. Maybe he changed, though. I wouldn't know. I knew him as a parent, not as a person. Maybe he was a completely different person than he was a parent. These were just hopeless assumptions that I prayed would find me answers. I pray that he would help me find the answers.

"Right now the date for the demolition is set to at least nine months, a year at best. They currently are planning how to take out the state," Casper's voice sounds far away.

"This is home," I say in a stern tone, "I refuse to just give up and abandon my family because New York may or may not be destroyed in nine or twelve months," I jab a finger at him, "I don't run from my problems. It appears that's what you're best at—running."

I refuse to accept this fate the Nebraskan bestows on New York. How can I trust him? How would he know the estimation of time left for the Pure State? So much doesn't add up. I have so many questions. I can tell I offend him by my last statement. Problem is—I don't care.

"You don't even know me, Zachary," he says in a low voice. "Upland, Nebraska was my home, but it's gone now, Bay. I have to accept that."

"You accept it because you ran away from it!" I snarl. "Always with the running from things!"

"You can't escape the inevitable!" Casper snaps at me, "My God, you're missing the damn point!"

"Then what is your point?"

"The point is you cannot stop the fate of your state! It's impossible!"

"There has to be some way for us to stop it, if not hold it off for a while longer!" I plead with him. "I know that you can't argue fate, but Casper Bunk, you should know that I'm sure as hell going to try any way. I will fight for my home before I see it eradicated in such a cruel, vicious way."

Casper sighs and looks around the van. A conflicted look sits on his face. "Eli, which one out of the twelve is the smartest?" He says.

"That'd be Willow Kindred," Eli replies.

"Kindred, speak up," Bunk's voice is cold as ice. I can tell he believes he doesn't have time for this. I'm here to tell him otherwise.

"That's me, sir," the girl from the middle row squeaks out.

Her voice is high-pitched, but it isn't an annoying tone as I would've expected from a know-it-all. Curly, caramel colored hair sits upon her scalp. Square-rimmed glasses are propped up on her nose, lying askew on her oval face. Her complexion is dark olive and she has gray eyes that make her skin color pop. I realize as I study her that she is the same girl that used the strange word earlier. Of course it'd be her, of course she'd be the brains.

"You're the brains?" Casper seems baffled.

"She's the smartest we got," Eli replies.

"Smartest we have." Willow corrects with a clenched jaw.

Casper stares at her.

"Apostasy," she states in a simple manner, crossing her arms across her chest, "Or perhaps you conveniently forgot about that?"

The Nebraskan rebel rolls his eyes, "I think I'd know what smart looks like—and trust me. You don't fit that mold."

"And just what does smart look like?" I glare at him.

"See, a smart person would know the answer to that," he retorts. He looks back at Eli and gestures to me as if I'm not present, "See what I mean, Henson? Bay is a perfect example of a useless New Yorker."

"Hey," Demetria snarls in defense for her own pride. "Watch what you say, Nebraskan devil."

I don't know whether or not her insult is actually meant to be insulting because I'm sure Casper thought it is humorous more than anything. I know I found it rather humorous, myself. 

Willow remains unamused and furrows her brow.

Casper Bunk runs his hand through his shaggy blonde hair. He puffs his cheeks full of air before speaking, "Okay, Kindred. Is there any chance to stop the demolition of New York?"

It takes Willow twenty-three seconds before she responds. "Highly unlikely. There is a 15% chance we can even stop this attack from happening, yet alone completely defeating the threat before destruction. It's impossible. Even if we could hold the eradication off, the chances are still very slim."

In one swift move, Casper thrusts his hands towards Willow. To me it appears he silently thanks her for proving his point, "Happy now, Zachary?"

"So you just plan on leaving them to die?" I snarl, "You'd have us leave our own family to just die!?"

He clenches his jaw as he protests, "I left mine!"

"Yeah well you don't exactly come across as a smart guy, Bunk!" I retort within a half of a second.

I turn my head towards Eli in order to keep my mouth closed. I don't want to say anything I might later come to regret. So, instead, I just stare at Eli. This is an indication that I don't know what else to say. He stares back at me.

Eli's eyes are brown, they're soft yet hard. Warm yet cold, all combined in one. His light brown hair lays askew on his head. It looks like he just rolled out of bed and didn't bother to brush his hair. Eli Henson always looks like this. He seems unkempt, which is completely normal for someone like him. His face isn't the prettiest to look at. His eyes rest too close together, nose long and hooked at the end, and a rather large forehead that takes up half of his face. Stubble covers his chin, the hair on his face a shade darker than that of the hair on his head. Another thing about Elijah is that he isn't just skinny, he's scrawny. Nothing about him is comforting. That sounds terrible, but it's true. He isn't attractive. I find one thing about him attractive and that would be his personality. He's a fun-loving, care-free, happy-go-lucky kind of guy. But his eyes. Oh, his eyes. They are so welcoming.  Even though his eyes are too close together and a dark shade of brown, somehow to me they are the warmest eyes I've ever looked into. His eyes make my heart feel like it never was torn or tattered.

"Bay, listen to me," Eli interrupts my thoughts as we near the three-hundred second mark. "We are not leaving here to watch them die so that we may live. We are leaving to ensure that they survive. Do you understand?"

I nod.

"We are leaving to unmask the Jotunn Warrior's for who they truly are. That's why I didn't tell you where we were going, I was afraid you'd back out when you heard we'd have to leave our families in this upcoming situation," Eli shakes his head, "We need to get to the bottom of who or what it is that's destroying our homes so we can better find a way to put a stop to it all."

I stare with a blank expression towards him, "The Jotunn are the ones destroying everything," I say in surety of myself.

"But what if it's not just the Jotunn doing it, Bay? What if someone, somewhere else in this country, is telling them what to do? Controlling them, in a sense?" The Nebraskan cuts in.

"You're insane," Willow coughs.

Casper ignores the comment, "All I'm saying is China attacked us one hundred years ago in World War III. Yet, we never see any Chinese people. For that matter, we don't even know what is beneath a Jotunn that rests in his armor!"

"So you really think the Chinese are either the Jotunn or are the ones controlling the Jotunn?" Demetria raises a brow at him.

"Listen to me! A century ago, woman—"

"My name is Demetria," she interrupts.

Casper rolls his eyes, "A century ago, Demetria, the Warriors didn't even exist. Then poof! Suddenly there were a ton of them after the first state was destroyed." Casper says as he beckons Eli to go ahead and begin driving.

"Why couldn't they have just appeared?" I query.

"All I'm saying is what if the Chinese did an experiment? What if they tested a fallen soldier that was deceased and made him new again? Hell, he could've even still been alive, for all I care. This all could've been one harmless experiment gone terribly wrong. What if they knew the states would retaliate even after they won the war, so they wanted to try and become invincible."

I stare at him, quite intrigued by his theory.

"Think long and hard about this. We've all had someone we know or hold dearly to our hearts just disappear. As if they never even existed. What if the Jotunn killed them to make their army even bigger than it is now?"

"So you're suggesting that the Jotunn Warriors were created by accident? Whatever is behind their masks could be deceased and or alive people?" I raise my brows.

"Yes," he nods his head in confirmation. 

"I don't believe that for a second. I do believe that perhaps they were trying to make themselves invincible. After all, if they knew the states would eventually fight back, then they could've wanted to be made indestructible. Which makes sense, I suppose," I counter.

"Just," he pulls at his hair, "think about it, Zachary. The only way to keep the states from rebelling is to destroy each and every one that fights back. If they did use a serum to do this, to create the monsters they are, then by killing people from a state would benefit their army. It keeps multiplying, it's constantly growing! Pretty soon the Warriors will outnumber the rest of the humans if we don't stop them."

The point he so badly wants to get across finally etches itself into my mind. Casper has a point. Everything he says adds up. It makes no sense, but yet it does. Everything, once all is said and done, adds up. For all we know, the Warriors are invincible. Jotunn overrun New York, patrolling it's streets constantly, as I'm sure they did every other state that was still standing at one point in time. After all, the Warriors guard each remaining state as if their life depends on it. What do they know that we don't? Am I just paranoid, or is the Nebraskan right?

Now that I think about it, I've never seen a Chinese male, female, or child, for that matter. Why would that be? Surely after they won World War III they wouldn't return to China in silence. They couldn't even leave the United States if they wanted too, being that they destroyed any mode of transportation that would deliver people overseas. I have no doubt that when the Warriors won complete control over the states, they'd be laughing and all giddy that they have the upper hand. All I ask myself is where would the Chinese be? Where else could they be but under the mask of a Jotunn suit?

The car hits a pothole and jostles me back and forth. I shake my head clear of its cluttered thoughts. How long has it been since someone spoke? For once I didn't count the passing time. I think, for the first time in a long time, I'm afraid to count the seconds. I wish time could stand still and let me mull over this longer than the time I have.

Depending on if what Casper said is true, and that the Warriors did somehow revive the deceased or convert the living, did that mean my father could still be alive?

"Well," my mouth tastes metallic due to lack of saliva, "I guess there's only one way to find out."