Our House

[SOTF_Help]

((Adele Jones continued from My Lucifer Is Lonely))

So this shit was what Adele had to come home to, huh.

Burnt wreckage. Ashes. She dipped out a couple days ago like the proverbial deadbeat dad going out for a pack of smokes, and she gave irony just enough time to do its thing like that.

She didn’t know if there was somebody in that mess over there. Wasn’t like Aditi was going to be doing much explaining herself, what with her head not completely attached to her body anymore. Adele had caught just a glimpse of her, before that glimpse became too much and she had to back off again.

Adele had seen the fire in the night, from where she’d holed herself up for a couple days to get her head together. She’d wondered, but she hadn’t gone over to investigate. Even if she had, it probably would have been too late.

It’d been too late for Cheri by the time Adele even let herself wonder.

Still, girl couldn’t help wondering about some things. Like, if she’d stuck around, if she hadn’t needed so much time to get her shit all in order, would Aditi maybe have gone over her whole plan and rethought things a bit? Maybe come up with something a little less… you know, likely to make the guys behind the cameras kill them all?

Maybe. But, shit. Maybe if she’d stuck around, if she had stuck around for the plan and not just the aftermath, Adele wouldn’t have thought it was so stupid after all. Maybe she would have believed.

When the fire had long burned itself down, and the night turned to day, and Adele finally got herself in gear and came over to check things out… well, it didn’t look so hot by the light of day. Adele had gotten herself back out of there pretty quick. Now she was just... recuperating in a house down the lane. Yeah.

What had Aditi died for? No sign of Charelle or ‘Rako. Were they off somewhere, dying for something? Was that fucking… was that all they had left? Dying for “something”? Had Joanne died for “something”?

Fuck.

Adele didn’t like to think of herself as a follower. She was a trendsetter, man. She was going to go off somewhere and fight for justice, or history, or something.

This side of the village had already seen its fair share of damage before they ever showed up. The house she was in had a broken window and debris scattered about. A broken tree branch had found its way in at some point. Adele picked it up, testing its weight. She sat crouched there for a minute.

“Y’all motherfuckers over there think you’re making some kind of point?”

She didn’t turn to look right into the camera, but her voice carried. A little bit choked up, maybe, but she was firm. Resolute.

“About us? About America?”

Softball in PE was never her thing, and this branch wasn't weighted like a bat, but it was still solid.

“Let me fucking tell you something about America. We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

She straightened up, branch in hand, and finally turned to look into the camera.

“You haven’t said shit. You haven’t made any point. It doesn’t count if you make people think they’ve only got one choice.” Adele hefted the branch over her shoulder like it was a bat after all.

“I’ve got a choice. I’m not killing anyone for you.”

She marched up to the camera and set her feet.

“You can keep doing this for as long as you want, but it’s not gonna last. Like Aditi said the other day, people are gonna keep figuring shit out. Maybe not today, maybe not my class. But one day, you’re gonna learn.”

She took aim.

Her collar didn’t beep yet. Maybe they thought they were giving her time to still back out.

“Every person counts. Every single one who refuses to do what you want us to do.”

Adele didn’t back out. She swung.

The camera shattered.

Adele’s collar beeped.

It was something.

G068 ADELE JONES: DECEASED