by Sophie Davis
An insatiable urge to beat on the door and speed its painfully lethargic descent seized me. I pounded my fist against the metal, only succeeding in bruising my knuckles. Physical pain was a welcome distraction from the metaphorical vice squeezing my lungs and heart.
“Erik, calm down,” Henri said in an annoyingly even tone. “Her condition won’t change in the next sixty seconds.”
While his logic was sound, it didn’t dampen the sense of urgency that had plagued me since Captain Alvarez’s call. The one where he informed us that Talia was injured. He declined to share the details, but the gist was clear: Ian Crane had tried to kill her.
Finally, the damned door opened, and I jumped onto the cement airstrip. Toxic’s Kansas base was in the middle of nowhere; barren land stretched for miles in every direction with groupings of warped trees every so often to break up the monotony. The only sign of human life was the clump of buildings several meters to the right.
There, I thought, she must be over there. I took off at a dead sprint, already regretting the several seconds I’d taken to get my bearings.
“Erik! Wait!” Henri called after me.
His footfalls barely registered over the roar of blood between my ears. Henri’s legs were longer than mine, but fear and adrenaline dictated my faster pace. He would catch up eventually. Or not. Either way, I wasn’t concerned. Reaching Talia was all that mattered.
“You don’t even know where you’re going,” Henri said, still several paces behind me.
“In case you haven’t noticed there is only one place where she could be,” I argued, pointing at the small town straight ahead.
Henri said nothing, just increased his speed to match mine.
As we neared the heart of the base, my pulse quickened, blood pumping so fast I thought my heart might explode. She was so close, and I couldn’t feel her. The aura Talia normally projected, the one that drew me to her, was nonexistent. My throat tightened and the oddest sensation prickled behind my eyeballs. I blinked several times, hoping to dislodge the specks of dirt that had surely invaded both of my eyes.
“Erik, you need to get yourself under control,” Henri panted, finally falling in step beside me. “You can’t force your way in to see her. The Director isn’t going to respond well to threats.”
He was right, of course. Director McDonough was not easily intimated, and threats would be met with deaf ears. But I had no intention of seeking out the Director, asking his permission to see Talia. Actually, I intended to avoid him at all costs.
“What is your plan for getting in to see her?” Henri asked.
I shrugged. Ever since the Captain’s call, I’d been on autopilot, the only thought running through my head was: get to Talia. Now that we were here, I realized that might be easier said than done.
“We need to be diplomatic about this,” Henri continued. “Otherwise, the Director is going to send us straight back to Headquarters.”
“You be diplomatic,” I growled.
I caught Henri’s concerned gaze out of the corner of my eye. If Talia had been with us, I would have been able to read his mind. Even without mimicking her Talents, though, his thoughts came through loud and clear. My friend, my teammate, my captain, thought I was losing it. Maybe I was. The idea of Talia hurt and alone, fighting for her life, caused a part of me to die. Our last encounter had ended poorly, that could not be the last memory we made.
I slowed my pace to a fast walk as we entered the compound. The buildings were arranged in a circular configuration with a statue of some past director of Toxic in the center. Probably a McDonough, I thought bitterly.
“Over there,” Henri said, nudging my arm and pointing towards a non-descript building with double-glass doors. A woman with graying hair and a white, knee-length lab coat walked through the doors, a cigarette clamped between her lips and a lighter in one hand. I changed course, and headed directly for her.
“I’m looking for Talia Lyons, where is she?” I panted, noticing for the first time how winded I was from the sprint from the hangar.
The woman eyed me suspiciously while cupping her free hand around the end of her cigarette, and lighting the tip. I wanted to rip the cancer stick right out of her mouth and crush it beneath my sneaker. Henri’s hand on my shoulder was the only thing that stopped me.
“And who are you exactly?” the woman asked, blowing a cloud of smoke in my direction.
“I’m her team captain, Henri Reich,” Henri answered quickly. “We were given clearance to see her.”
I was proud of Henri for stretching the truth. Captain Alvarez had given us leave to come to Kansas, not to see Talia, though. That decision, he’d said, was up to her attending physician and the Director.
“Ms. Lyons is in recovery,” the doctor said pointedly. “She can’t have visitors.”
Henri started to protest, but I was beyond reasoning with this woman – whoever she was – and pushed past both of them. Once through the double doors, the pungent mixture of bleach and antiseptic assaulted me. My stomach roiled with disgust, the smell bringing to mind sickness and death.
Being a Hunter, I was accustomed to spending time in Medical. More than one of my missions had left me in need of treatment. But this facility was nothing like the state-of-the-art facility we had at Elite Headquarters. The furniture in the main lobby was shabby, the cinderblock walls yellowed and chipped, the linoleum floors peeling. The knot in my stomach tightened, the thought of Talia being treated at this sub-par excuse for a hospital sickened me.
I tried to feel her, locate her presence within the building, but couldn’t. What that might mean, I wouldn’t even allow myself to think.
Two sets of double doors were on either side of an empty reception area. I picked the set on the left for no reason other than I had only two to choose from and a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right.
Three right turns later and no shortage of suspicious glances later, I found her. The hallway was a bustle of activity, men and women in matching green scrubs filtered in and out of a room at the very end of the corridor. Two blonde men stood off to one side of the room, the younger gesturing wildly with his hands. The older had his arms crossed over his chest, a grim set to his jaw.
“Awesome,” I muttered under my breath, “two McDonoughs.”
While I’d planned on avoiding the Director, that appeared impossible. He literally stood between me and the reason that I’d come: Talia. Mentally, I prepared myself for the confrontation, recalling Henri’s words about being diplomatic, whatever that meant.
I marched towards the father and son duo, ignoring a tall brunette woman who tried to tell me that I didn’t belong here. There was nowhere else I belonged more than at Talia’s bedside.
“What was I supposed to do, Dad? Just let her die?” Donavon McDonough demanded angrily. Neither he nor his father had spotted me yet.
“You were supposed to follow protocol. We have no idea what the repercussions of this are going to be,” the Director hissed back through clenched teeth.
I cleared my throat loudly, alerting them to my presence. As entertaining as their spat was, eavesdropping on family drama held no appeal. After coming all this way, I was going to see Talia.
“Mr. Kelley,” Director McDonough said, turning his attention on me. His steel grey eyes registered no surprise at my presence. I took that as a good sign. If he were expecting me, then maybe he would allow me to see Talia. Not that I needed his approval. If he said no, I would fight my way past him. Just let him try to stop me.
“I want to see her,” I said, the urgency clear in every syllable.
“No way,” Donavon interjected before his father had a chance to refuse me.
God, I hated that kid. Where did he get off telling me what I could and could not do? The fact that he’d been sent as part of the extraction team instead of me, increased my ever-present desire to hit him. The Director’s son always annoyed me, but today the very sight of Donavon infuriated me.
“She is r
esting,” the Director said simply.
“And?”
“And, Mr. Kelley, I do not want you disturbing her.”
The only person I hated more than Donavon was his father. Unfortunately, as the Director of Toxic he demanded a great deal of respect, of which I had very little where he was concerned. Still, the situation was delicate, and my standing within the Agency tenuous. I decided to at least try my hand at diplomacy before throwing caution to the wind and knocking out anyone who dared get in my way.
“I won’t disturb her, sir,” I said, summoning all of my willpower to remain calm and professional. “I just want to make sure she is okay then I will leave.”
I had no intention of leaving, but figured once inside her room the Director would have a harder time getting rid of me. I was betting on him not wanting to cause a scene in front of so many witnesses, something I wasn’t above. What did I care what a bunch of doctors at some base in the middle of nowhere thought about me?
“She doesn’t want to see you,” Donavon said, sounding like the over privileged twit that he was. He crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking his father’s stance, and stepped sideways to fill the doorframe of Talia’s room. The arrogant prick might as well have peed on the doorway with the way he was attempting to mark her as his territory.
I laughed bitterly, he’d lost the right to call her his a long time ago. “Did she tell you that?” I asked, taking a step in Donavon’s direction. The gesture was supposed to be a threat, and Donavon perceived it that way, backing up farther into the darkened space behind him. Apparently the Director also interpreted my action as a threat because he moved to stand between us.
The tormented expression that came over Donavon’s features told me what he refused to say aloud, Talia hadn’t said anything. Talia had been unconscious since the extraction team had retrieved her from Nevada.
Pain clouded Donavon’s blue eyes; I almost felt bad for him. He really did care about her. If he’d been anyone else, I would have commiserated with him. He was the only person who could possibly understand how I felt. As it was, though, I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but a burning hatred that ate at my gut.
“You being here will not help her recover any faster, Mr. Kelley,” the Director said in a low voice. “In fact, I imagine the effect will be quite the opposite. And my son is correct, she doesn’t want to see you.”
While he had no way of knowing that for sure, the words still stung. Sure, we had a fight, but if she read my letter then she understood where I was coming from. Deep down, I knew she wanted me with her now. She needed me. And I needed her.
Someone coughed behind me, the noise cutting through the tension between the Director, Donavon, and me. I’d been so focused on getting to Talia, who was so close now that I could feel her essence, I hadn’t heard Henri approach.
“Director,” Henri began in an annoying, respectful tone that Danbury McDonough did not deserve, “I understand that us showing up here is unorthodox, but if Erik could just have a couple of minutes with her to see that she is okay, we will leave.”
Donavon scoffed. “Don’t you get it? She isn’t okay. She’s lost a lot of blood and the bullets –”
A stern warning glare from the Director cut off the rest of Donavon’s words.
She’d been shot? My legs became jelly, and I stumbled to lean on the wall for support. “How much blood did she lose?” I mumbled.
“Enough to need a transfusion,” Donavon answered at the same time his father said, “That is none of your concern.”
“Five minutes, Director, please,” Henri tried again. “Just give us five minutes with her and I promise we will leave in peace.”
Five minutes? Henri thought five minutes would satisfy me? No way.
The Director took several long moments to contemplate the offer, his desire to prevent a scene warring with his even stronger desire to keep me far away from Talia. The activity in the corridor had ceased, all eyes were on our little group. No one bothered to pretend that they weren’t interested in our discussion.
“Fine,” the Director said breezily, decorum and the need to keep up appearances winning out. “You have five minutes, Mr. Kelley, and not one second more. Then, I want you to get back on the plane you took here and return to Headquarters. You will make no further attempts to contact Natalia. Once she is stable enough to transport, I will be taking her to a secure location to recover. You will not come looking for her.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Five minutes in exchange for no future contact? That was a pretty shitty deal.
“This is not a negotiation, Mr. Kelley,” the Director said before I could voice my objections. “You can either agree to my terms or leave right now.”
“Thank you, Director McDonough,” Henri answered for me. He took hold of my arm and steered me towards Talia’s doorway before I could comment.
Donavon refused to move at first.
“Come along, son,” the Director said and started walking away, gesturing with a wave of his hand for Donavon to follow.
Finally, Donavon complied, ramming my shoulder with his as he passed. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, I might have laughed. The kid was ridiculous. He was no alpha male, and pretending otherwise was pathetic.
Henri practically shoved me through the opening Donavon vacated; he closed the door without entering, allowing me privacy.
The room was completely dark without the light from the hallway. Blinds hung over the windows that lined two sides of the square space, but the panels were shut tight.
I didn’t wait for my eyes to adjust to the blackness. I used Talia’s weak essence to guide me to her bedside. She was so small under the thin white blanket, her body barely making a bump. Machines beeped and hummed as they monitored her vitals. Her breathing was shallow but even.
A hard plastic chair sat next to her bed, and I settled into the seat. Now eye-level with her, the fluttering of her lids and the slight twitching of her body was apparent. I wanted to touch her, hold her in my arms. But she was so fragile I worried she might break if I did.
Talia’s normally tan skin was pale, waxen even. Dark tendrils of chestnut hair were splayed across the pillow, several strands clinging to her cheeks. Without thinking, I gently brushed the loose pieces, pausing when my fingers skimmed her feverish skin. She was so hot. I placed the back of my hand against her forehead to gauge her temperature; she definitely had a fever.
My own hands were numb, cold with dread. I cupped her cheeks in my palms hoping to cool her skin with my touch. Even like this, sweaty and unconscious, she was beautiful. Better still, she was whole, unbroken. Her vitals were strong, the line on the heart monitor steady.
At my cool touch, she moaned softly and turned her face into my palm. My breath caught, and for the briefest second I thought she would wake up. I longed for her lashes to flutter open so I could see the life in her purple irises. No such luck, she continued to take shallow breaths, and kept right on sleeping.
“You are going to be okay,” I whispered, stroking her cheek with my fingertips.
The movement underneath her eyelids picked up, and the tempo of her breathing increased. Did some part of her know I was here? Was that part of her was happy I was? I tried mimicking her abilities, joining her in dream land. See what she saw, feel what she felt. But mimicking her Talents proved impossible, the fist squeezing my heart tighten. What did that mean? Was it just because she was asleep? Or was it more than that? Was her hold on life that thin?
“Erik?” Henri’s soft voice called from the doorway. “Time’s up, man. We have to go.”
“One more minute,” I called back, never taking my eyes from Talia’s face.
I memorized every detail, every freckle dotting her nose and cheeks, the way her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and how her long lashes kissed the dark hallows underneath her eyes. I pressed my lips to her forehead, praying that this would not be the last time I saw her. The Director told me that I had to stay
away, leave her alone to recover. But once she was on her feet again, surely she would want to see me. She was upset with me, she had every right to be, but I couldn’t live with myself if I’d irreparably screwed up our relationship. Just being near her made me whole, without her a piece of me was missing. She filled a void in my life that I hadn’t known was there until the first time we’d met.
“Dude, the Director is coming,” Henri said, peeking his head through the doorway once again.
“Coming,” I called back.
I kissed her soft, warm cheek and murmured, “I love you, Natalia,” against her skin.
As I walked to the door to join Henri, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. This time I didn’t pretend dirt was causing them to water, they were tears. I was actually crying over a girl. When had I lost my man card? But Talia wasn’t just any girl; she was different, special in a way that I couldn’t describe.
Pausing in the doorway, I turned and took one last look at her sleeping form. The neon bulb from the hallway cast enough light to illuminate her face. She looked peaceful now, not nearly as agitated as when I’d first come in. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part, but I thought her improvement had something to do with my visit.
“I love you,” I sent, even though I doubted she would receive the message. Then, I slipped through the door and away from the only person, besides my family, I gave a damn about.
The Director and Henri stood together in the hallway; apparently Donavon had found a more productive use of his time than standing outside Talia’s room.
“When she wakes up will you let her know I was here?” I asked the Director. I hated asking a favor of him, like it indebted me to him somehow, but I wanted her to know. I needed for her to know that I cared enough to come.
“Of course, Mr. Kelley,” the Director said and offered me a thin-lipped smile.
“Thank you,” I replied and followed Henri back down the long hallway en route to the hangar.
Talia