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Amelie slings the wounded body against hers and gives a sobbing grunt as she staggers, carrying them both. Noire is dead weight, fading in and out of consciousness. Both of them are burned and bleeding a singular, jagged trail. The freezing rain is another kind of burn and the steady rushing sound of it makes it hard to hear if Noire is still breathing. The blood and other fluids pouring down the side of her face map a brutal path to her recently emptied eye socket. The instinct to survive outweighs the knee-jerk indulgence of reveling in the fresh agony within her skull.
A roar distantly behind her makes her cringe, panic confusing her mobility. The urge to look and face what is coming for them wars with wanting to run, hide, pray they pass her by. Thunder rumbles and cracks, leaving her head throbbing anew and ears ringing to the pulse of her scared rabbit heartbeat.
Quickened breathing; pained whimpers through clenched teeth. All she wants to do is scream. Mustn’t draw their attention.
Her efforts to move are invigorated and an unconscious pleading accompanies every exhalation through shivering lips.
A rattling, wet cough and a fresh, hot glob of mucous and blood runs down her leg. Noire’s fingers flex, as if they’re not sure they’re moving right. A few of them aren’t.
“-elie… Leave.”
“Shut up.”
“Leave me. Go.”
“Can’t do that, Boss.”
“Amelie.”
Noire’s feet brace against the concrete, clutching Amelie to make them both stagger to a halt. They need each other to stand upright.
“Get out of here. That’s an order.”
“I’m taking you with me.”
“You’re going alone.”
“She’ll kill you.”
“He won’t.”
Olive eyes squint through the stinging rain and fog and Amelie can’t restrain her shaking. Shock set in long ago, now hypothermia wants to join the party. A hand partly covered by the remains of a burned glove touches the gore on her face.
“That’s an order.”
Noire sounds no better than she feels, but the animal instinct throbs in every aching muscle, vibrates in her blood: go, go, gogoGOGOGO.
It’s somewhat easier to run without another body holding her down.
Clods of reinforced concrete tumble from the low pile, followed by splintered boards of beautifully finished wooden flooring. A flicker from within the dark mess singes the air and turns ice into steam. The rebar lifts and is flung aside, uncovering a body trying to wade free of the wreckage. Clothes and hair are soaked wet and clinging. Diluted rivulets of blood trail after him as he finds solid footing some yards away.
Steam jets through his teeth as he breathes, skin prickling. He hears a roar in the distance; Candela. A pillaring gout of fire illuminates the night and eats the fog temporarily. The scent of char and water are window dressing to the scent he knows so well. He takes a slow, deep breath and hones in on it. When he blinks the water out of his eyes, gone are the baby-blues; Zapdos’ vivid yellow gaze looks out at the world and his head snaps in the direction Noire departed in.
The creature that looks like Spark bares its teeth and takes off, the concrete underfoot scorched dry.
Heat rolls off her body like liquid, the flames flooding outward and devouring everything in their path. The freezing rain is no match for her fury; scalding clouds of steam billow and rise with the smoke. Her heartbeat is a war drum, and her mouth craves blood.
The crack of thunder somewhere before her curls her lips back and she licks her teeth. Cinder-red eyes survey what the flames illuminate.
Let’s see who would find that wrong copy first.
Let’s see how well the little Rocket can sing.
The scent of blood is a prominent clue, puddles of it turning the rainwater pink. It’s a painted path leading to a body hunched against a car. Candela recognizes that wine-red hair.
Scared little rabbit can only stare wide-eyed at her, unable to move.
“Where is your boss?”
“I d-don’t know.”
“It’s not nice to lie.”
“T-told me to go. I don’t know where N-Noire is!”
The tires begin to sweat and bubble as she moves nearer and grabs a fistful of long hair. Amelie is limp, too exhausted to fight back anymore. She’s shaking hard, her voice just a little louder than her tear-filled breathing.
“Let’s call for Noire together, hm?”
“P-please, no, I don’t know where-”
“Shh… Save your voice.”
The scent overlaps with and then diverges from the female’s, but she isn’t what he’s after. A bolt of lightning strikes some yards away, illuminating the area for a moment. And he sees it at the edge of the light, the petite body shrouded in platinum hair.
Noire is awake but barely responsive when Spark turns the body over. Tanned skin has taken on a whiter edge and lips are beginning to turn blue. Clumps of hair have begun freezing to the ground.
“-Fuck away from me.”
“I could let you die here.”
A beastly scream nearby turns both gazes, one worried, one curious.
“Be grateful. You’re not bleeding anymore.”
It’s the last thing Amelie hears before blacking out.