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Chapter 4 - An Eye for an Eye, a Tooth for a Tooth.

A few blood-curdling screams rang out—then the gunfire stopped. The First was still standing, but only by the thinnest thread of strength. The sudden silence didn't calm him; it only sharpened his tension. He began scanning the area restlessly, bracing for another attack—until his eyes landed on me.

 

I could barely see our pursuers, but I knew exactly what I was doing. With sharp, short motions of my palms, I flung the soldiers from side to side, slammed them into each other, spun them through the air like rag dolls. Boundless rage and thirst for revenge surged through me.

 

— Eleven… — he whispered.

 

— Run, — I said slowly, sniffing back the blood trickling from my nose. — You're hurt. You can't stay here any longer.

 

— Me? — The First laughed, but his voice cracked. — I'm the one who can't stay?

 

— Yes. You.

 

— Eleven, you've got way too many wrong ideas. First of all, I'm strong enough, in case you forgot. Second— — he slipped through the hole in the fence — — what you're doing right now? Pointless. They're all dead. Look—they're not even screaming anymore.

 

I didn't look away from the soldiers. I kept tossing them around like broken toys.

 

— Eleven? — he crouched down, tilting his head to catch my eye. — You hear me? Let's go!

 

— No! — I snapped. — They shot you!

 

The First snorted.

 

— They're dead, — he repeated after a pause. — And if we don't vanish right now, the ones left in the lab will call reinforcements. And those—you won't handle.

 

I hesitated. He was right.

 

Noticing my doubt, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward the forest. One last murderous glare at the lab—and I followed. The cool shade of the autumn woods instantly soothed my burning mind.

 

A few minutes later, I glanced at the First.

 

— Where are we going?

 

He suddenly froze—and burst out laughing.

 

— Hell if I know. First, we need to ditch these freakishly white lab rags.

 

I raised an eyebrow.

 

— So you think it's normal that your whole arm is covered in blood?

 

— And you look like you just crawled out from under the dirt, — he grinned.

 

I sighed, crouched down, and sharply tore the hem off my thin lab shirt.

 

— Where? — I asked simply.

 

The grin dropped from the First's face. He waved a hand dismissively.

 

— Forget it. I won't die.

 

— Where? — I repeated, firmer.

 

He frowned.

 

— I said, where?

 

— You want me to take off my shirt and walk around Hawkins like this, with a bloody rag on my forearm?

 

I slapped my forehead.

 

— What's the big deal about unbuttoning the sleeve and ripping it open at the elbow? — I snapped.

 

The First's eyebrows shot up.

 

— It's not about the *shirt*, Eleven.

 

— Then what is it? — I planted my hands on my hips.

 

He fell silent, as if searching for words.

 

— It's… pointless anyway.

 

— Last warning, — I growled. But he just burst into laughter.

 

— Go ahead, — the First stepped in front of me, arms spread wide. — Show me what you've got.

 

— I've got plenty—I'm just worried you'll pass out from blood loss.

 

He rolled his eyes. I crossed my arms.

 

— Fine. Let's try this differently. Please, can I help you?

 

The First studied me closely.

 

— Eleven, I…

 

My gaze stopped him cold.

 

— Yes, — he finally gave in.

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