9. Rue

Rue

Unless you were within a dozen feet from the perimeter, you didn't see the wall. Because it was so high, I had to assume magic was at work to conceal it. At first I wasn't sure why someone would bother, but after walking around for a while, it wasn't hard to determine the reason.

These people were carrying on, living their lives as if they weren't in a magic-walled city and there wasn't an organization hell-bent on killing everyone. A wall would be a reminder that Silence was probably prowling around outside.

No one was under the impression that Silence didn't know where we were. I wasn't sure there was enough magic in the world to keep us completely unfindable. But as of right now, after maybe four years of this city existing, they hadn't been able to break through the walls.

Not that I was willing to say that out loud, or put too much thought into it. I didn't want to challenge the universe to prove me wrong. Whether it was a false sense of security or just confidence in what they built here, no one was afraid of carrying on with their lives as they lived before Silence stepped up their murder game.

At least, that was the impression I got of Base Six right up until three days ago when Silence made their first real move in two years. To my knowledge, they didn't send their stolen beasts here. Likewise, there had never been an individual attack on someone here or against the compound itself.

My gut told me it truly was an intentional false sense of safety they'd been affording us. They weren't concerned with us being here. All the big, baddies they'd put on their kill list were in one place. Proverbially under a single roof. Silence was just letting us get comfortable with the idea that we were a threat this way.

I wasn't sure there was anything we could do to be a threat. Not against what they have, what they'd built, stolen from a child's mind to unleash on the city.

I couldn't help but wonder how my father was going to explain that away if I'd still been there and I hadn't discovered his secret. Did he think I wouldn't recognize literally every single monster he set loose on the world? Did he think because I hadn't thought about them or talked about them in a couple decades that I had forgotten I'd drawn them?

What would he have said?

They must have been stolen.

Yes, by him!

The real question that plagued me was whether I'd have believed his lies. A sickened part of me thought I would have because my father had shown me nothing but love and support. Kindness. As had all my family.

I now questioned everything he'd ever explained away. Everything, but specifically around the deaths of our family members. I had to wonder whether all my parents were on board with it. Whether they were all involved with Silence or those that weren't, turned a blind eye for safety and love.

Was my brother?

As much as I wanted to entirely turn off the thoughts concerning my family, I couldn't. This feeling that I'd provided them with tools to carry out their massacre haunted me. Yes, I was a child. And yes, I'd contributed unwillingly and unknowingly. But they were still my creations. Did that make my hands any less dirty than theirs?

I had knowingly made animal weapons. Just because I intended for them to become manga characters didn't make the intent behind them any less. They were weapons. But instead of being digitized and enjoyed via a television screen, they were made real and released like a plague into the world.

Where were they now? Did they have a zoo? Where was it being hidden?

I paused and watched a couple dogs loping around a backyard. I'd filled an entire notebook with dog-like creatures. Probably because the flower pet had always been my favorite. One of my first creations. Over the years, the novelty of them didn't wear off.

Maybe my father had taken my notes too literally when creating them. He wasn't a weapon but a goofy pet. He wasn't created for destruction and murder but fun and defense. That's probably why he was let go.

Then again, everyone knew Silence wasn't opposed to killing the innocent. If this puppy didn't serve their purpose, I had no doubts they'd just kill it. Not release it into the world and start over.

So why was Alien alive? Had he escaped?

"Rue?"

I looked away from the dogs playing and studied the man coming toward me. I didn't recognize him, but since he knew my name, I had to assume he was one of my husbands' friends.

"Hi," I answered.

"Shiloh and Iker said you didn't show up at HP this morning. I stopped by your house and Javan said you were wandering. You okay?"

"Uh huh," I answered, nodding. "You are?"

"Saar," he said, chuckling. "Sorry. You have a hundred names to remember, and we have one. It took Hadley, my wife, almost seven months to keep everyone straight."

"That's not as comforting as you might have intended it to be," I deadpanned.

Sarr chuckled. "I suppose not. I'm just saying—as long as you have your husbands' names down, everyone else will understand if it takes you a while to name them correctly."

I laughed. "Fortunately, I've already got their names down."

"Good." He fell into step beside me as I continued down the sidewalk, keeping the wall in my peripheral vision. "Why are you wandering?"

Sighing, I shrugged. "I needed a break from staring at my childhood innocence coming back to haunt me."

"You understand it's not your fault, right?"

I didn't answer because… wasn't it? Would that attack have even happened if it hadn't been for my drawings?

"It's also not your responsibility to fix. You're not your father. You are not responsible for his actions."

"A part of me knows that's true," I said, sighing. "But I can't stop questioning everything from my life. And right now, I can't help but wonder if three days ago would have happened if I hadn't spent years of my childhood drawing menaces."

"It would have happened with or without you," Saar insisted. "The monsters would have been different, but it still would have happened."

I rubbed my eyes. "Part of me believes that. But seeing them come to life on TV…" I shook my head. "The sense of dread hasn't left me."

"I get that. Do you remember the Hawaii mountain incident almost six years ago? When an entire side of the mountain was destroyed by a storm?"

I nodded. "That was your family, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "We were on our first family vacation since bringing our wife home. We were doing nothing but enjoying ourselves. Peacefully. Then we were suddenly surrounded by their hijacked shifters who they had under chip control. There were hundreds of them. And they showed up with weapons like we'd never seen. Weapons to subdue a storm. To force a storm out of their monster state. We won because we were twelve storms on a mountainside in the middle of the ocean, so we had the advantage. But two of my husbands were severely injured and one was killed."

My entire body broke out in chills as I stared at him. "Oh, my god," I muttered, covering my mouth.

He raised his hand, giving me a wan smile. "Thankfully, our angel friends were close and were able to bring him back to life. But that day, we realized we couldn't sit around being the victims anymore. We couldn't just wait for them. After taking a week or two to heal, we announced that we were going to retaliate. Teach those fuckers there were consequences to attacking a family minding their own business. There would be comeuppance for trying to abduct our family—yes, that's what we'd determined that they'd wanted. We found twelve vans equipped with some nasty shit down the mountain. It wasn't an assassination attempt. Koh's death was a last hurrah by one of the dying hybrids after he knew they'd already lost."

"What would they want with you?" I asked, mortified.

"We have hypotheses. Needless to say, we're not willing to test them."

I shuddered.

"So, with our friends' help, we chose one of Silence's facilities where we believed we'd find some bigwigs. We didn't, by the way. We were unsurprised but disappointed all the same. However, even with all the charged-up shit we brought in with us, we were unprepared for the surprises we found. They nearly overcame us. Once again, I had to watch as several of my husbands and wife almost died. Our friends stormed in and saved the day. We found even more horrifying shit as we stormed the building—no pun intended."

I snorted. Saar smirked .

"My point is, I promise you, there isn't a day that goes by that every single one of us doesn't feel a sense of guilt because we brought our entire family into that building and nearly lost. Had we even lost a single person but won the entire day, it still would have been a loss because we would never get their lives back. We put our friends in danger because they had to come in and retrieve us. All because we wanted to prove a point."

Chewing the inside of my lip, I watched the sidewalk as we followed it.

"Logically, I know the biggest failure that day was our pride. We refused to let our friends help, not wanting them to step into unnecessary danger. Silence attacked us. We wanted to deliver a counterstrike. However, we stupidly went into a place where we were at a complete disadvantage. Our monsters feed off the energy in the air and here we were, walking into a confined environment surrounded by metal and walls. What we should have done was accept our friends' help. The day, the injuries we faced, would have gone a lot smoother."

"They showed up, though. Right?"

"They did. They waited close by, regardless of us telling them not to. My point in all of this is we know our friends walked in willingly. We know they would have taken the call to arms if we'd let them right out the door. But we put ourselves at risk because we thought we were doing the right thing. It turned out okay, and we all lived with minimal scars. We took down a second Silence facility, and learned to accept when we need help. We also live with the guilt of knowing, for a second time, we might have lost someone we loved—husband, wife, or friend—because we were being too proud. But Rue, what Silence is doing isn't on your shoulders at all. That isn't your guilt to carry. You were a child, doodling. You didn't ask for them to be made into murdering beasts and send them into human cities. You didn't ask your father to take your creations and make them into weapons of mass destruction. You didn't ask for any of this. Don't let that guilt eat at you. "

"You know that it's not really the same thing, right?" I asked. "Your guilt and mine."

"You're right. I earned my guilt. You didn't."

I frowned. That's not at all what I meant. "I'm not sure I agree with that. I'll give you that maybe I didn't earn mine, but those monsters came from my head. I drew them, right down to the kind of destruction they could cause. True, I didn't hand them to Silence to create weapons with. I wouldn't have condoned that even at six-years-old. But it doesn't take away the guilt I feel for having somehow, even unintentionally, aided Silence in their worldwide massacre. There's such a thing in human law as unintentional manslaughter that you can still be found guilty for and charged with prison time. This is the same thing, but on a much larger scale."

"It's not?—"

"But," I said, holding up a hand to stop him, "if I shouldn't feel guilty, then neither should you. All of you went into your endeavor knowing the risk. You knew what awaited you—horrors you could imagine and ones you didn't. You took that risk with eyes wide open. There's no reason to feel guilty."

Saar gave me an amused smirk. "Fine then. I'll make a deal with you. I'll let my guilt go if you let yours go."

"You think it's that easy?"

"No. But we can work on it together."

I smiled, nodding. Yeah, I liked that. "Okay, I can agree to that." Though I wasn't sure how well or whether it'd be possible. I understood what he was saying. If it was anyone else but me in my position, I'd be saying the same thing Saar was.

A part of me recognized it wasn't my fault. I didn't give anyone permission to use my shit so horribly. I didn't approve of these beasts, and I didn't condone their use for murder.

But in a way, they're still mine! I'm their creator, even if I didn't give them life.

"Are they alive?" I mused.

Saar glanced at me. "What? "

"We've noted they haven't been stopped. There's no record of one of them dying. Which begs the question, can they die? Which also presents—are they alive?"

"They are," Saar said without hesitation. "The first time we encountered them was on our ill-fated attempt at vengeance. I mentioned we stormed the building? We found their incubation tanks."

I shuddered, scowling. But then frowned. "I didn't make them invincible. The flower pet—Alien—is exactly like I envisioned him. Right down to temperament. Which means they all have a weakness, even if I didn't specifically note one."

"There is a single piece of footage that shows one being injured. Visibly. A giant chunk of its side was blown off, it didn't stop."

My breath caught. "Maybe they're just as much victims as those they're killing," I muttered. "If in creating them, they took away their pain receptors, that means they're basically kamikazes. Being sent in to kill without retreat. Kill, even if that means dying in the process." A sad shiver ran through me.

"Might be worse than you think," Saar said. "Everything they've done is in disregard for the value of life. All those monsters who attacked us on the mountains? They were supernatural monsters like you and me. They'd had chips implanted in their brains that basically programmed them like robots. Ask Koa about them. You'll have nightmares."

"What could possibly drive them to become these people?" I asked, my stomach rolling.

"We've been asking ourselves the same question for generations. We're still waiting on an answer."