Exposing ELE (ELE Series #3)

by Nuckels, Courtney

  In my peripheral vision, I watch Dr. Hastings pull a gun out from under his desk. In the second that he aims it at Tony, I raise my gun without hesitation, aim it and shoot. I watch in horror as the doctor's eyes turn vacant. The small red dot on the corner of his forehead looks so harmless. Like a small cut that could be covered with a Band-Aid. I don't realize that I'm not breathing until the dizziness washes over me. I blink two times and then take a deep breath.

  Tony moves quickly to my side and takes the gun from my shaking hands. He puts it away and pulls me into him. My whole body is shaking and inside I don't know how I feel. “Dr. Hastings is dead. I killed him.” I keep repeating in my head. “I killed him. I killed him.”

  “I know, Willow. You did the right thing. You saved my life.” He holds me tightly and gingerly brushes my hair through his fingers. “We need to get moving. Those shots will certainly draw some attention if anyone is around to hear them. We’re still not sure if Zack's even here, so we should get out while we can.”

  I nod my head because my voice is lost. He takes my shaky hand in his and I use the last of my resources to turn us invisible. We move through the walls and away from the prison, the place of my nightmares. By the time we reach the tree line, my body is trembling so heavily that Tony pulls his hand from mine and lifts me into his arms. He begins running in the direction of the safe house. With the last of my energy, I rise from his arms and ask him, “Please don’t take me to the safe house. I want to go somewhere alone, somewhere with you.” Tony eyes me suspiciously for a moment but nods his head in agreement. I rest my head back on his chest and let myself go.

  CHAPTER 5 (Hiding)

  I wake up wrapped up in a cozy quilt with the fire lit in the fireplace. I have no clue where I’m at but it looks to be some sort of rustic log cabin. I catch a glimpse of Tony out of the corner of my eye. He’s standing over a small gas camping stove, warming a mug that’s begun to steam.

  He must sense me waking up because he turns in my direction. His eyes light up upon seeing me. He makes his way over and hands me the cup, handle first.

  I wrap my hands around it, finding comfort in the warmth it provides. “Thanks,” I say.

  Tony perches on the edge of the couch. I lift my head up and take a drink. “Ramen noodles,” I say excitedly. “Where did you get this? I haven’t been able to get my hands on any of this for years!” I sip the broth, reveling in its flavor. I close my eyes, “Mmm, chicken flavored.”

  Tony shakes his head and chuckles. “This is where I used to live.” He pauses for a moment to let it sink in. “My parents and I liked the quiet and moved to this cabin a few years before ELE. When you asked me to go somewhere else last night, this was the first place to pop into my mind. Anyway, we always tried to keep a few items around that were imperishable. Ramen was a definite option for that reason.” All the while, I’m gulping the broth and loudly slurping the noodles. “And I guess I’m glad I did because apparently, I just made your year!”

  I nod my head, taking sip after sip of this glorious liquid. I get to the bottom of my cup way too soon and hold it out for him… hoping he has more.

  “Slow down there, slugger, you’re gonna get sick,” he playfully scolds me.

  “Great, now you know my weakness…” I jest playfully. He takes my cup and refills it once more. Again, I gobble it down in less than a minute.

  Tony goes over and jabs at the fire, making it spark and crackle. It feels like I’m a world away in this cabin. Everything seems so… normal. All the loss and heartache I’ve experienced in the past few days has been left outside. But then a cloud comes over my eyes, bringing with it the thunderstorms. I still have to figure out how to help Tony. I haven’t the slightest clue as to how a person transitions into a Reaper… I’ve only heard that it happens within a few days. I just hope my healing ability stalls the inevitable. I make it my mission to make these last days with Tony some of his best. I can’t sit here and feel sorry for him or I’ll miss the opportunity at hand to make him happy. I want that to be the last free memories he has. My mom would have wanted that for him as well. I shift the heartache and memories of the last two days to the far recesses of my mind.

  Tony places the poker next to the fire and grabs a book. “Do you want me to read to you?” he asks me.

  I can’t even think how long ago it was that someone read to me. “Sure,” I say shrugging my shoulders. “Why not.” I set the coffee cup on the table beside me and curl back up into the quilt. Tony moves a large wooden rocking chair over to where I’m at and takes a seat. “So, what are you reading to me?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “Alice in Wonderland. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Mine too,” I whisper.

  Tony gets comfortable in his chair and opens the old, tattered book. He clears his throat and begins, “Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?'”

  I snicker when he says Alice’s lines in a girly voice.

  “What?” he asks me now that I’ve clearly interrupted him with my giggling. He narrows his eyes at me playfully and looks like he’s going to pounce when all of a sudden his face goes lax. He stares into the distance, his eyes filled with hollowed emotion.

  “Tony,” I say trying to figure out how he can go from all emotion to nothing, so quickly. I wave my hand in front of his eyes, but still no response.

  Suddenly he gets up from the rocking chair and walks into the kitchen, his usual gait absent. He opens one of the drawers in the kitchen area and pulls out a large butcher knife, leaving the drawer open. He turns robotically towards me, butcher knife in hand.

  “Uh, Tony… what are you doing?” I ask him one last time before I start to panic. Naturally he doesn’t answer and it dawns on me that Tony isn’t in control here… something else is. I scoot back on the couch and crouch with my legs underneath me. Not knowing what I’m battling against I want to be ready for anything. And I have to do it just right or I could injure the Tony that’s buried deep inside.

  As Tony comes closer, I look him in the eyes. I notice a small red swirl, almost like a tornado, circling his iris.

  “The shot,” I say breathlessly. Like a lion about to pounce its prey, I ready myself to move. When Tony is but five feet from me, he begins raising the knife. I move quickly until I’m behind him and immediately grab his hand. His grip is deathly tight. I squeeze his wrist like he taught me and disarm the knife from his grasp. It falls to the ground and I kick it across the room. Then I immediately focus on healing, hoping with all I am that I can heal him again.

  It only takes a few seconds before Tony, the real Tony, comes back to me. I slide off his back landing softly on the wooden floor. He turns to look at me, his face contorted in utter confusion. “What…” he asks, searching for words. “What was that?”

  I scratch my head noticing the absence of the red in his eyes. “Uh, you were giving me a piggy back ride.” I want to hit myself in the forehead for giving such a stupid answer but it was the only thing that came to my mind.

  He ponders this for a moment and, surprisingly, he just shrugs his shoulders.

  He looks lost in thought so I suggest, “Hey, let’s read more of Alice in Wonderland.”

  He still looks perplexed, but he nods and sits back down in the rocking chair picking up the book from the floor.

  While he’s busy looking for where to start I walk inconspicuously over to where the knife is on the floor and silently kick it under the couch. I quickly slide onto the couch and throw the quilt up over my lap. I'm out of breath and sweating a little from the ‘incident’.

  Tony reads a few chapters and the entire time I find it hard to focus on the story at hand. I can't help staring at Tony and expecting him to just snap again. What the flip was that? I wonder. Out of all
of the reactions I could have expected someone turning into a Reaper to do, I wouldn't have thought of that. I mean, if he's blacking out and going into Reaper mode or whatever, why did he grab a knife? Wouldn't he just try to take my powers with his touch? It doesn't take a knife to do that.

  I glance towards the kitchen and can't help but wonder if I should hide the butcher block of knifes sitting on the counter. But, if we’re being honest, he could use anything as a weapon.

  “Are you okay, Willow?” Tony asks me.

  I shake my head to clear it and look back at Tony. “Yeah... I mean, yes. I think so.” I pride myself on the fact that I didn't bust out and yell, “No, you're turning into a Reaper,” like I wanted to.

  He stands up and puts the book away, then comes and sits next to me on the couch. “You just seem a little lost in thought.” He pulls part of the blanket over his legs too. “You know, it's alright for you to admit that you aren't okay. You've been through so much in the past few days, what with losing your mom and then killing Dr. Hastings. That's a whole heck of a lot to sift through.”

  I grunt nervously. “Well then, I guess I should be real and admit that I'm all screwed up inside.” My fake smile drops. “You're right, I'm not okay, but I'm working on finding a way to cope. I have to get through this and I'm very thankful to have you here with me right now.” I run my hand through my hair.

  “I know you’ll be able to find a way to cope, Willow. You are stronger than you know. I remember when I lost my parents. At first, I was so mad at them for turning into Reapers and trying to turn me into one too. I hated them. I hated them because of their actions; your mom was forced to kill them. I was pretty screwed up inside back then too. Day by day though, things started easing up. I felt a little more like myself as time passed. Things will never be the same, but at least I know that I survived it. I know you will survive this just fine and come out even stronger because of it.” Tony pulls me towards him on the couch and places his arm around me.

  I rest my head on his shoulder and sigh. “I hope so. It's interesting the turmoil going on inside me. Part of my brain wants to close my eyes and pretend like nothing ever happened. Another part of me wants to break down and cry forever or to get angry at the world and take my pain out on everything in my path. Yet, I find myself in a strange limbo between all of these emotions. I find myself wanting to just move on. I don't want to sit and comprehend everything that has happened. I don't want to miss my mom or feel guilty for taking a life, even though he would have taken yours if I hadn't shot him. I just want to be. Because if I can just find a way to just be, I can get through this...” I let out a loud breath. “Wow, none of that just made sense. I should just shut up.”

  Tony squeezes me gently. “No, actually it makes a lot of sense.” We sit in silence for a few minutes. It's not awkward. Instead, it's kind of peaceful. Tony asks a few minutes later, “Do you want to go back to the safe house?”

  I sit up and look at him. “Is it okay if we stay here a little while longer? I think I just need some time away from everyone's attention. I don't think I could take it having my friends hover over me asking if I'm okay all of the time. You know?”

  Tony laughs softly. “Kind of like how I asked you if you are okay just now?”

  I give him a half grin. “No, that's not what I mean.”

  Tony smiles back. “Yeah, I guess I'm the exception.”

  “Yes, you are the exception.” I nod my head.

  He gives me a smoldering look that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Tony asks me.

  I give him a small, but meaningful, smile. “I know you would. You’ve always been there when I needed you. But I do have to warn you. Now that you’ve said it out loud I may have to cash in on it sometime.”

  He gives me a light laugh. “If you say so,” he says playfully.

  “So,” I say changing the subject. “If we are going to stick around here for a little while longer, I guess I ought to give you the grand tour.” He stands up and holds his hand out for me.

  “Why, I'd be honored.” I accept his hand and he pulls me up from the couch. The blanket falls to the ground. I pick it up and place it back on the sofa. That's when I see some dried blood on my inner wrist.

  Tony notices it too and gently pulls my arm up to get a better look. “What happened? When did you cut yourself?”

  I look down, not sure what to say. You can barely see a scar from where the knife must have sliced me without my knowledge. My healing abilities must have fixed me up. “I don't know, it probably happened last night.”

  Tony looks at me suspiciously. I don't waver so finally he says, “Let's get you cleaned up then first.” He takes me to the kitchen and washes my arm under the sink. I watch as he gently wipes at the bloodstain with a damp cloth. I could have just as easily rinsed my own arm off but something about Tony's gesture and protective qualities is quite endearing in this moment.

  After I'm all cleaned up and good to go, no Band-Aid necessary, he takes me on the tour. I view their formal dining room, which consists of a large oak table and six chairs. He takes me upstairs and shows me his parent's room, which he doesn't linger in too long. I'm sure the memories in there are hard for him.

  I give him a hug after we close the door. “So can I see your room?”

  The grief leaves his eyes and turns quickly into playfulness. “I thought you'd never ask.” He takes me down the hall and opens the door to his room. I walk in and look around. It's definitely not what I would have expected. The pitched ceiling makes the room look open and airy. A full size bed sits in the corner. A large desk seems to be the main focal point of the room. On it sits numerous graphite pencils, papers of different texture and colors, paints and a few books on sketching. Sketches of people and cars hang on the walls.

  “Did you draw all of these?” I walk into the room and look from picture to picture as if browsing in an art exhibit.

  “Yes,” Tony whispers. I look back at him and I can see something in his expression. His cheeks are a little red and he looks almost embarrassed.

  “They are beautiful. You have amazing talent,” I reassure him.

  His expression lightens and he smiles meekly, which is surprising since nothing about Tony is meek. “Thanks. I wasn't sure if you'd think it was goofy or childish.”

  I shake my head and go back to admiring his handiwork. “Nothing about art is childish. Not many people can draw like this.” A sketch of an old Lamborghini is so three dimensional and starkly real that it looks like it could drive right off the paper. I find a picture of a man and woman holding hands. They look so lively and in love. The shading is perfect and you can see the emotions in their faces. The love shines through in the drawing. “Who is this?” I ask.

  Tony comes to stand next to me. “That's my parents.” He reaches out and gently grazes the sketch with his fingertips.

  “They must have been very much in love.” I'm not sure if this subject is too painful or if I should move us on to another sketch or not.

  “They were. You know, I've had some time to think about it. I think that might have been part of the reason they turned into Reapers. I think they thought it would give them the best advantage to stay alive and together longer. We didn't know how long or how hot the temperatures would get during that time. When the first set of people started turning with that red shot, they tried to convince others that it was the best thing for everyone. They spoke about feeling more powerful than ever and some even thought that the change would make them immortal. When my parents made the decision, it was before everyone realized how bad Reapers really were. Some people were already dying around the shelter and coming up brain dead, but they didn't know it was because of a Reaper. I think the sudden deaths were a catalyst to my parents' choice as well as many others. I honestly believe that my mom and dad were trying to find a way to make sure they both survived together, along with me. I don't think they were looking for power. It's kind of iro
nic that little did they know that the change would kill the very love they were working so hard to protect.” He turns away from the sketch.

  What a tragic love story, I think to myself. I look up and notice his eyes are watering. I pull him into a hug. We stand there in each other's embrace for several seconds, neither of us wanting to let go. Tony leans back to where we are still in each other's arms but he can now look into my eyes.

  I get caught up in that look and it nearly takes my breath away. So much can be said without words. I glance down at his lips and without my even thinking of it, I start leaning forward.

  Tony clears his throat and takes a step back. “Why don't we go get some air?”

  An ounce of hurt flashes inside me but I remind myself that Tony and I are just friends. I know he liked me like that once, but I made it known I wasn't into him in that way. He has no reason to be still into me. Plus, enough is going on right now. I don't need to be thinking about Tony in that way; especially when I just broke up with my first love not even two days ago. “Air sounds good,” I say.

  I follow Tony out of his room, down the stairs and out the front door. I find myself in stunned awe at the view outside. When we arrived last night I was not only pretty out of it, but it was also pitch black so I couldn't see anything. I step down from the porch and start walking towards the most magical lake I've ever seen. The sun causes the calm water to glisten. Mountains stand up in the background at the far end of the lake. Their image is cast onto the gentle water perfectly and the wisps of white clouds and blue sky above them give the reflection even more depth. I walk all the way to the water’s edge, mesmerized by the setting. “I could live out here.”

  “I could see you living out here too. This is my favorite place on Earth.” Tony puts his hand on the small of my back.

  “I can see why,” I tell him.