Legacy // H.S

39.

'Through fortune and fame we fall'

*

Whether he says it explicitly or not, Zayn intends to kill every last one of them. He wants a massacre, a slaughter, a complete obliteration of those that have wronged him. Even if the people at their warehouse weren't directly involved in the car crash that killed his father, I know that Zayn wants anyone associated with them gone.

In moments of anger, rationality can disappear. It becomes a small figure in the background that barely warrants attention when compared to the raging beast that stands in front of you. The heat and the fire of fury, it overpowers any other emotion a person may be feeling, almost like it is a puppet master. It's hard to cut through those strings and take back control, especially if you don't want to.

Right now, all Zayn has is his anger. A distraction from the grief he's been feeling since his father's death. Something other than sadness or hopelessness. This revenge, it gives him a purpose that he has been searching. It goes beyond simply sitting around and preparing to say goodbye to a man he wasn't ready to leave just yet. It's as if it keeps him alive.

Collectively, groups of us piled into the vehicles parked up at the warehouse, heading into North London for our next fight. I made sure to call Dorothy on account of her offer to help us if we decided to do this, and while she didn't actually expect me to, she was more than happy to assist if it meant taking down another rival with her girls. The Forty Elephantshave become our strongest allies in this war, and I hope it stays that way even after it's ended. It will do all of us good to have people like them on our side.

Harry drives quickly behind Zayn, hoping to keep a close eye on him. Claude and Liam prepare some weapons in the back, while I watch Harry for any signs of distress. He's been through so much lately, and the danger we're about to enter surely won't help. But worst of all, he feels guilty. Guilty for lying and choosing something that he knew would hurt his closest friend. Hurting Zayn means hurting himself, and it makes him doubt every kind or reaffirming thing anyone has said to him over the years. He spent most of his life being told he wasn't worth much, and it doesn't take much for him to revert back to that state of mind.

I reach across the console and squeeze his thigh, but he barely registers. 'Just breathe, okay?' I tell him.

He offers a light nod but doesn't answer, his hands tapping haphazardly on the steering wheel as he swerves in and out of the traffic. The roads are busy at this time of day, people coming and going from their jobs or schools. If we're not careful an innocent could get hurt. In Harry's eyes, Zayn is the only one that matters right now. He doesn't even stop to check the lights or traffic himself, only following the movements of Zayn and Babz ahead.

'What is your plan, Atlas?' Claude asks from behind me.

I turn with a quizzical stare. 'My plan?'

He nods, loading a third gun with bullets. In the boot of the car are bags full of weapons. 'Yes. You are the leader of this group. You need a plan. What are we going to do when we get there? You can't let him just run into the building with guns blazing, and we certainly can't just pull up outside so they can prepare before we're even out the cars.'

I hadn't even thought about that. In moments like this, I never feel like I have control. I barely know what I'm doing myself until I'm in the situation and defending myself. But he's right. I am the leader now. I took the role when no one else could, and now I'm about to lead my people into battle.

My brows furrow and I take a deep breath. 'Fuck. I don't know.'

He shakes his head. 'Wrong answer, mon chéri. Plan, now. We're not far off, and we have the Forty joining us, so we need something to stick by.'