“You really don’t get it.”
“No, Ameana, I don’t. Explain it to me.”
“You didn’t leave me the night you broke up with me. You left me months before that but you were too much of a coward to admit it.”
“I was honest with you.”
“Liar! Every laugh we shared, every kiss you gave me every after you laid eyes on Emmy was a lie.”
“What we had—”
“What we had was over. But instead of telling me, you spent weeks pretending. I kept thinking I was doing something to push you away. I blamed myself for not being a girlfriend to you.”
“It’s not your fault we broke up. You have to know that.”
“Breaking up is what decent guys do. They fall for another girl, admit it, and make a clean break. That’s not what you did.”
“What did I do?”
“YOU ABANDONED ME!!!”
A heavy silence fills the apartment. When Ameana speaks again, she is calm and in control. But there’s a sadness in her tone that betrays her attempts to appear composed.
“I loved you. You loved me. Something changed. You should have told me. I deserved to know. Instead you let me be in it alone. Marcus, how could you let me be in love alone?”
**********
A few hours later, we prepare to leave The Sage’s home and head for Terra. Although everyone recharged, they don’t look very rested. I think not knowing what they are headed for has everyone on edge.
While the team pours over a map of Terra, I grab a breakfast of toast and tea from the kitchen. The Sage offers to have the old lady make eggs, but I have learned the hard way that it’s best to eat light when you are traveling with Guardians.
As we head out the door, The Sage stops us. His voice is serious and filled with sorrow.
“I would like to think we are all friends,” he says.
We all exchange a look but don’t say anything.
“It pains me to know the truth. Still I feel it only fair to share it with you,” he continues.
“What is it?” Marcus asks.
“I do not foresee all of you returning. In fact, I guarantee it.”
CHAPTER FIVE: HOUSE OF THREE
We arrive in Terra Oblivioni, a few miles outside of New Jersey. There is nothing here but abandoned warehouses and dilapidated buildings. They told me it would be filled with drug addicted Angels but nothing they said could have prepared me for this heart-wrenching sight.
The Tics looked more like zombies than Angels. In truth, I’m not sure the things sticking out of their backs can even be called wings. They look more like the skeleton of what used
to be wings. The disturbing and sad sight makes me flinch.
Each Tic has wing damage but to different degrees. There is a Tic propped up alongside an abandoned car; his feathers are gone. There’s only a thin layer preventing us from seeing the skeleton of his wings.
Other Tics don’t even have the skeleton intact. One Tic over by the trash can has only two bones protruding out of his shoulder blades.
“What happened to him?” I ask Jay.
“Sometimes when a Tic runs out of feathers, he’ll break off a piece of his wing bone and sell it for drugs.”
“His bones are worth something?”
“Angel bones look like humans’ but they aren’t. They are vastly stronger and more valuable. When Angel bone is ground up and mixed with other ingredients, it has a number of uses. Many of the items sold in the Market consist of angel bone,” Rio explains.
I am unable to take my eyes off the Tics roaming aimlessly in the streets. What I find even more disturbing than the Tic’s wings is the state of their bodies. They are severely underweight. They stagger out into the streets like drunks with no equilibrium.
At first it looks like they are zombies with black and grey polka dots for skin. But then Marcus tells me the black dots are splotches where darkness has invaded their soul. I look into their eyes and a cold chill runs down my body. There is a black void where their eyes used to be. Miku says they can still see us, it’s just that the light has been drained from their eyes.
Some Tics are missing fingers and other body parts. I’m told that’s because some attempt to sell off as much of themselves as possible for just one more hit of Peek or CP.
Their bodies are so frail, it’s as if death haunts their every step. There is no way to really tell the males from the females since most of them are bald. The decay of their soul is reflected in every inch of their bodies.
“Shouldn’t we help them?” I ask.
“There is no helping a Tic,” Marcus informs me.
“Technically they can kick the habit,” Miku says, uncertain.
“Yeah, and Sellers make it into the light. Give me a break,” Marcus snorts.