I click the button for the projector screen to unravel from the ceiling, making Mona gasp.
At times, I forget she hasn’t lived a life like ours. She’s never seen movies. I’ll have to create her a list of all the classics.
“I have some business to attend to,” Colt announces, grabbing his jacket and leaving the house. Mona’s eyes follow his departure. She feels things for him. It’s clear in the way she yearns for his looks, attention.
“I guess it’s just us two.” Thunder booms from above, warning of the impending storm. “I’ll get some snacks, you get comfortable,” I tell her.
She’s transfixed by Lord of the Rings. I figured we’d start strong. She gets closer every time something intense happens, her small body bunched up, knees under her chin. “I want to save my people,” she suddenly says, breaking the silence.
“What do you mean?”
She turns to face me, determination in her eyes. “Most people on my island were born there under my father’s reign. They have no idea what the real world is like, that they don’t have to be punished for normal bodily urges or wanting to explore the world.”
“You’ll be imprisoned by your father if you try telling people about the outside world.”
She nods, her locks falling over her face. “I comprehend that. Can’t we bring more people with us, help free the people who don’t want to be there?”
“There’s always been a divide that’s tolerated, for lack of a better word, with your island and the city. The police don’t interfere. I believe your father pays them for his privacy.”
The sky thunders from above, a streak of lightening illuminating the sky, flashing through the window. Mona almost leaps into my lap when all the power flickers out, plunging us into darkness.
“It’s okay. Just a power outage. I’ll get the generator going. Stay here,” I tell her.
I find a flashlight and go into the basement, fucking around with the switchboard and then the emergency generator. It won’t start.
Perfect.
When I get back upstairs, Mona is standing at the big window in the living room.
“There was someone out there looking in,” she stutters, her body trembling. She’s probably got scared from the movie and the darkness. I walk over to her, about to tell her she’s imagining things, when she starts. “Look!” she yells, pointing to some trees. I see something move, but I’m not sure what.
“I’ll go check it out.”
“I’m coming with you,” she tells me defiantly.
I’m still holding the flashlight, but grab a gun from the safe.
Rain hammers down, drenching us both. “Stay behind me.” The wind howls, picking up leaves and debris and tossing them all over the place. The waves crashing against the shore sounds like the earth is vibrating. We round the house toward the trees where we saw movement.
“Who’s there?” I call out. “I’m armed and will shoot you.”
No one answers.
“Wait here,” I order Mona, then aim my weapon toward the trees, getting closer. My adrenaline spikes. This is where Clara’s body was found.
Anger pumps through my bloodstream. “If someone is fucking with me, you’re going to be eating lead,” I warn.
The rain picks up, distorting my vision. Mona’s sudden shriek turns my blood cold. I spin, aiming in the direction where I left her, and fire a shot at the figure holding her.
Bang.
Nineteen
Colt
“Fuck!” I yell as pain slices into my shoulder, jolting Mona from my hold.
“Oh my God,” she cries in horror. Rain hammers down on us, my feet slipping in the mud.
“Oh shit! Colt?” Cash calls out, swiping water from his eyes.
“You fucking shot me,” I grind out.
“I thought you were attacking Mona.”
“What the hell are you both doing out here?” I ask. I was just getting back when I saw them come outside.
“Power went out. We thought we saw something out here.” Cash shakes his head.
“Fuck, we need to get you to the hospital.” He winces when he comes closer and sees blood.
“It’s just a graze. Luckily you’re a shit shot,” I bark.
“It’s bleeding.” Mona bites her lip nervously.
“Maybe we go inside and stop playing hero?” I grunt, storming off.
The power is out, putting me in a worse mood than I already was.
“Where have you been?” Cash asks, locking up the gun. He pours a tumbler of whiskey and hands it to me. Mona helps me slip out of my jacket and shirt.
There’s a slice through my shoulder where the bullet skimmed. “You could have hit Mona for fuck’s sake,” I fume.
“I was aiming for you. I wouldn’t have gotten her. I wanted to wound you, not kill.”
“You should always go for the kill.” I scoff.
“Where have you been?” he repeats himself. Mona runs off to get some clean water and bandages.
“I went to see Father,” I mutter, gulping down the whiskey.
“Why?”
“Because I want fucking answers for Mona, for you, us.” I fling my hands up, wincing from the sting of the wound.