Migratory Animals
Chapter 4: Migratory animals.
The air was thick with the smoke from the explosion, and the acrid scent of burning rubble clung to the wreckage of the factory. Powder stood frozen, her eyes wide, her breath shallow. She barely seemed aware of the chaos around her, too lost in the moment. Her monkeys had finally worked; they worked when everyone needed her. She was going to laugh at Mylo so much—she was no Jinx after all.
It was then that she lifted her gaze, looking for her brothers and sister. Even if her bombs had worked, she had a bad feeling growing in her heart. Even though the creepy man she had seen earlier was nowhere to be found, she could not find her sister anywhere either.
Sevika’s voice broke through the haze of shock. “Powder, we need to move. Now.”
Powder blinked, trying to focus, but all she could think of was one thing. “Vi. I need to find Vi,” she murmured, her voice frantic, full of desperation.
Sevika, clutching her bleeding stump where her right arm used to be, took a step toward Powder. She tried to speak, but her words caught in her throat, the shock of her own injury weighing heavily. Still, she had to be the one to get through to Powder. “Powder, listen to me. We’re not going anywhere until we get you somewhere safe. Your sister would never want you to fall apart like this.”
“I—I have to go. She’s out there. I can’t leave her,” Powder insisted, trying to force her body to move despite her terror.
The woman turned to Powder, who still seemed lost in a haze of shock, unable to actually move. With her one remaining arm, Sevika gently lifted Powder into her arms, cradling her against her chest as she carefully stood.
They moved through the wreckage, Sevika’s steps slow but determined. But as they neared the edge of the destroyed building, something stopped her.
A figure emerged from the smoke, carrying the unmoving body of Vi.
Silco.
He walked through the haze of destruction, his face an unreadable mask, his movements deliberate. He held Vi’s limp body close, the bloodied figure cradled in his arms as he walked past the wreckage.
Sevika froze, her heart sinking. The sight of the little girl, so still, so lifeless in Silco’s arms, was a brutal reminder of the cost of this war.
Powder stirred in Sevika’s arms, her eyes catching the sight of her sister’s body. The moment seemed to stretch, the world silent for a beat as they both watched Silco disappear into the distance with Vi.
“Vi...” Powder whispered, her voice cracking as her eyes filled with unshed tears.
Sevika tightened her grip around Powder, unwilling to let go, unwilling to let the world swallow her up in this moment. “We’ll find a way, Powder,” Sevika said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I swear.” And with that, Sevika carried Powder away, the weight of what they had lost heavy on both of them, but the promise of what they would rebuild still lingering in the air.
The Firelights’ hideout buzzed softly with the hum of repurposed tech, lanterns casting warm glows over the walls covered in maps, sketches, and old graffiti. It wasn’t much, not yet, but it was home. Their home.
Ekko stood near one of the hammocks, Isha cradled in his arms, her small fingers tugging at the fabric of his jacket. She let out a soft yawn, nestling closer against his chest. Her freshly dyed hair—again—was a bright shade of powder blue and pink at the tips, fading unevenly into her natural dark color.
Ekko sighed, shifting his weight as he shot a tired, knowing glance at Powder.
“Alright, Pow. We gotta talk about this.”
Powder, sitting cross-legged on a pile of blankets, blinked innocently. “Talk about what?”
Ekko gave her a flat look, then gestured to Isha’s head. “You have to stop dyeing her hair. She’s a baby, not your personal art project.”
Jinx scoffed, tossing a lock of her own blue-streaked hair over her shoulder. “Pfft. First of all, she likes it.”
Ekko raised a skeptical brow. “She’s five. She doesn’t know what she likes.” He looked down at Isha, raising an eyebrow. “Do you actually like it, or is she just convincing you to nod along?”
Isha lifted her head slightly, blinking at him before reaching up and gently tugging a violet strand between her fingers. Then, she gave the smallest, sleepiest thumbs-up.
Jinx grinned smugly. “See? Told ya.”
Ekko rolled his eyes. “You taught her that.”
Jinx smirked. “Doesn’t make it less valid, little man.”
Isha wriggled, patting Ekko’s shoulder twice—her usual way of saying she wanted down. He hesitated, then gently set her down on the blankets beside Jinx. Almost immediately, she curled up against Jinx’s side, hands tracing little invisible shapes in the fabric.
Ekko groaned. “That’s not the point! Her hair is gonna fall out at this rate! Do you even know what’s in that junk you’re using?”
Jinx gasped, placing a dramatic hand over her heart. “Excuse me? I use only the finest, highest-quality stolen goods. I would never endanger my number-one client.” She booped Isha’s nose, earning a sleepy giggle.
Ekko pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear, you’re impossible.”
Jinx smirked. “You love me.”
“Unfortunately,” Ekko muttered, though his lips twitched into a small smile. The now almost-man sighed. “Fine. But if she goes bald, you’re explaining it to her.”
Jinx leaned back with a triumphant grin. “Deal.”
Ekko shook his head but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He sat down beside them, reaching over to ruffle Isha’s hair—blue streaks and all. She scrunched up her nose but didn’t pull away, just nudged against his hand in quiet affection.
The world outside was still cruel, still dangerous. But here, in this moment, in their little stolen corner of peace, they had each other, a family.