by Natalie Reid
He leaned in again, not abiding the separation that speech demanded. As he kissed her, she felt as if he stole away everything, all the blackness and all her worries, her sight and her breath, whisking it out of her like a gentle spring thaw that trickled up her arms and down her back and rested on her heart like a late winter flower.
“I lied to you back at BLES,” he blurted out before he could give into the temptation of her lips a third time. “That day that I told you I felt strange around you. When I told you that you shouldn’t be alive. That it was unnatural.” He shook his head and rested his forehead on hers. She could see in his eyes he was struggling to hold his emotions together. “I only said it because I was afraid of myself, afraid of the feelings inside of me.” His eyes stole a brief glance at her lips before he forced them back up again. “I felt something for you Jessie. And I don’t mean some nagging little trifle of a feeling; this was something I couldn’t ignore, couldn’t get out of my head for one minute out of the day. And I was afraid because…because when I first felt it…you weren’t even alive. You were a dead stranger on a stretcher. A possible Bandit! I thought I might have been losing my mind!”
He gulped and stoked the side of her face. Jessie felt as if every sensor in her brain was humming with bliss and spreading out the message to the rest of her body.
“Please say something,” he begged. “Anything.”
She leaned her head into his hand, her eyes heavy with warmth. “You have my heart, Tom. For however long I have left.” She rested her hand over his chest and felt the fast, steady beat underneath.
“Please don’t talk like that.”
She linked her hands behind his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s all I can think to say.”
He placed his hands on her arms, drawing her away so he could look in her face. “I have a means of studying the Bandit now. I can find a way out of this. We beat this before, we can do it again.”
Seeing the determination in his eyes, she did not have the heart to argue, to remind him of words like reality and probability. They had finally found each other. They deserved at least one moment of unmediated happiness.
“Then I will fight it as hard as I can.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her once more, a short, sweet contact that lasted no longer than it would take to fill a pair of lungs with air. When they pulled away, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. As she held him back, she came to the slow realization that it didn’t matter how many kisses they had left together, how many times their hands touched or their eyes locked. Something else was there underneath it all; something far more precious than any physical contact.
Once more she felt that warm hand on her shoulder, that inescapable feeling of being watched by something greater than herself. Up on that mountain top she had wished it away, had practically fought it back, yet here it returned, as gently and faithfully as ever. And maybe it would never go away. Maybe it was the very thing holding the Bandit back. If her mother put so much importance on this feeling, on the Aero Complex, then perhaps it was worth the ten years they needed to be separated. Perhaps it was even worth everything.
* * *
The white room opened to greet a new face. Each time it did, it never left them the same. Ward and S followed the man in and shut the door. They stared expectantly at where he stood in the middle of the room. They were promised answers and didn’t like waiting long for them.
Doctor Tag pressed his hands together in front of his blue coat and looked around the bare white room with curious eyes.
When the doctor did not attempt to say the first words, Ward announced, “I’ve been informed that you wish to join our scientific research team.”
“Uh, yes, yes that’s correct President Ward,” Tag exclaimed.
“Just Ward,” he said, rubbing a tired hand across his forehead.
S took a step forward, asking, “What makes you think we can trust you? After all, it was your very own assistant that let the Bandit Jessie escape. How do we know you didn’t even help him?”
Tag wrung his hands and blinked his eyes, staring fiercely at his shoes. “You can hardly blame me for the emotional urges of a young man. In fact, I advised him against it in the first place.”
“Against helping her escape?” Ward said furiously.
Tag blinked up at him in confusion. “No!” he said, clasping and un-clasping his hands. “For-for falling for the girl. He was a promising scientist, and I told him that he should focus all of his attention on that instead of the-the pretty, doe-eyed pilot he was always visiting! But you can’t blame me for not being able to stop—”
“Of course doctor,” Ward interrupted dryly. “How could you be expected to overcome the powers of true love? How foolish of us to suggest otherwise.”
Tag nodded and smiled at him, not picking up on the President’s sarcasm.
“I can promise you, you’ll be getting one of the best minds from BLES if you let me on,” Tag insisted. “No one works more tirelessly than I do.”
“No one except for your assistant,” S muttered.
Tag’s face fell upon hearing her comment, but he immediately tried to regain his happy disposition when Ward addressed him once more.
“In your file, it says you headed a military research project some years back.” Ward studied the doctor carefully before asking, “What can you tell us about that?”
Tag gulped and clasped his hands again. “Nothing much. Just the standard experimental research. We were trying to make soldiers faster.”
“And was it successful?” Ward pressed.
“Ah, well, uh,” he stammered.
“I don’t think you understand your situation here,” Ward said. “I’ll only let you on if you make it worth my while. If not, there’s the door!”
S took a step towards him, but before she could reach him, Tag exclaimed, “Wait!” He wrung his hands and looked about the room. “There is one thing you might want to know.”
“It’s not about true love, is it?” S muttered under breath.
“It’s about Jessie Fifty-Fifty!” Tag blurted out before he could be dismissed.
Ward stiffened and stared over at the nervous scientist. “Go on,” he prodded.
Tag took a deep breath, rubbed the back of his neck, and then cleared his throat, announcing, “I know who her father is.”
* * *
Clammy hands curled and unfurled around a hot piece of smoking coal. Pieces of black residue flaked off and stained the sheets of the bed, and the heat from the embers left inside slowly burned at the palm of the hand.
Katherine gripped at the coal even harder, causing it to crumble and spill out either end of her hand and onto the bed in small avalanches. She scrunched her face in pain. The shadow was out of its corner. It was standing on the other side of the bed now. If she turned, she would be able to see its horrible face—recognize her own features inside.
A set of gentle fingers pried hers apart and wiped away the ashes and burned skin. Cool water was poured over her hand, and a bandage wrapped around it.
“I can’t remember what it looked like,” Katherine said.
Youthful hands brushed back her tangled hair.
“His beautiful bird.”
She turned over and saw that the shadow had moved back to its corner, scared by the pilot now standing over her bed.
“Please make me remember,” she whispered.
She grasped out for a hand, but the pilot had gone, moving faster than a whisper in the night.
Chapter 10
Ancient History
Kenji sat in the white waiting room on BLES’s ground floor. He had gotten the call this afternoon to come straight away, and all manner of terrors ran through his head as he wondered what could be wrong. His mind instantly went to Aaron. Had he been involved in an accident? Had he been taken here to recover?
Though his worries were rooted on the young pilot he cherished as much as a son, he was still apprehensive about
what could be happening back at the Ancient Ramen. He had not left Ash by himself for more than a few minutes since he had decided to take him under his wing. Some days he seemed to get better, and others it was as if he was knocking on the Bandit’s door. He hated to admit it, but he kept a kitchen knife under his pillow and even inside the shower in case Ash turned.
A knock sounded against the waiting room entrance. Kenji rose to his feet, hoping it would be a scientist come to escort him, but found a young man wearing the green uniform of the military.
“Are you Kenji?” the man asked.
“Is this about Aaron? Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s…unharmed.” The young man offered his hand. “My name’s Trid. Aaron’s in my same flight squad.” He glanced down as if embarrassed. “Though it’s not really a full squad these days.”
Kenji blinked. “I’m sorry. What do you mean?”
Trid tried to shrug off his comment. “Well, first Jessie and now…” He teetered off and cleared his throat.
“And now what?” Kenji demanded.
Trid puffed up his cheeks and let out a stream of air. “Now, it’s not as bad as you might think. When I first I heard, I thought…” He shook his head, “…but then my sergeant explained, and it’s really nothing to be particularly upset about. Eh…” He scratched the back of his head. “Aaron’s been…he’s been taken off of active duty, for, eh, psychological reasons.”
Kenji furrowed his brow. Just what did that mean?
“I guess because of what happened to Jessie—you do know who that is, right?” Trid asked.
“Yes, I am aware of who she is. Along with the rest of Aero City. I’m also aware that Aaron was in love with her. Now just spit out whatever it is you have to tell me!”
Trid chopped a hand through the air, staring at his boots as he admitted, “He tried to kill himself!”
Kenji stilled. It wasn’t possible. Aaron would never do something like that. He had raised him better than that.
“Okay…” Trid put his hands out, as if telling him to slow his thoughts down. “That came out a lot worse than I meant it to. Aaron didn’t really try and kill himself per say. It was more of an, oh, how did the report put it? An inclination towards suicidal tendencies”
“So he didn’t really do anything?” Kenji asked, confused.
“Well, yes and no. There may have been some little incident where he got a little close to the air-base’s railing for a little too long—”
“He was going to jump?!” he asked, outraged.
Trid put a cautious hand on his shoulder, as if lowering him back down to normal height. “But he didn’t, and everything is fine now. The doctors here are taking care of him. I don’t think he’s in danger of giving into the Bandit. But, you know how doctors can be, they’re taking every precaution. They won’t let him out until they’re sure he’s not, you know, dangerous.”
“Can I see him?”
Kenji tried to make for the entrance to the hallway, but Trid skittered in front of him. “Eh, I’m afraid that isn’t really, that is…Aaron, he’s a little ashamed, I guess you could say. He wanted me to tell you that he was alright, that he would see you when he got out, and something about carving a mark in wood or something. Don’t really know what he meant by that last part.”
Kenji clenched his fists, trying to calm his anger. It wasn’t Aaron he was angry with, it was BLES. They were the ones keeping him from his boy. And their answer just wouldn’t do.
“Excuse me,” he said, pushing Trid out of the way and rushing into the hallway.
He hadn’t gotten far before a scientist from BLES flagged him down, stopping him from going any further.
“I am going to see my boy Aaron,” Kenji insisted.
The doctor’s mouth curved up in an apprehensive smile. “I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment. We’re not exposing him to any civilian presence until we can determine if he’s a danger or not.”
“You mean if he’s about to turn into the Bandit?” Kenji corrected sharply.
“Well…” The doctor smiled again.
“What if I could get you proof? Proof that my boy isn’t anywhere near to giving in?”
“I’m not sure I know what you—”
“Yes you do,” Kenji cut in, tired of this man’s presumptuous ignorance. “If I can get a smoker here, they can tell you exactly what kind of condition he’s in.”
“Oh, I don’t think we could—”
Kenji spun around and started back down the hallway, not in the mood to listen to that man anymore.
“Sir! Sir!” the doctor called after him.
Kenji paid him no attention. He would make them all see. Aaron wasn’t the type to give in. After what had happened to him, he was the last person in the world that would allow himself to be taken by the Bandit. If he could just get Ash to him, then Aaron’s name could be cleared and he could get him back home where the boy could truly heal.
“Ash!” Kenji yelled out when he got back to the Ancient Ramen, entering through the back door.
It was dark outside, nearly seven o’clock. He had needed to close early to take his trip to BLES. He had told Ash to stay in the back room where no one could see him through the windows. Some people didn’t take too kindly to smokers, and some saw it as a moral duty to have them all killed before they turned and did some real damage.
“Ash!”
He turned the lights on. He was nowhere in the kitchen. Kenji strode out into the front room. There was a light switch on the far wall. He was about to walk over and flick it on, when he noticed Ash’s figure hunched over on one of the chairs by the windows.
“Ash, what are you doing in here? I thought I told you…”
Ash jerked his head in his direction. “It’s beautiful.” He looked down to the table in front of him and traced a finger down the wood. His hand was clenched strangely, as if the muscles in his arms were tied to a string that had been wound too taught. “The mark,” Ash whispered. “I wish I would have seen it before.”
“Before what?” Kenji’s blood spiked and he rushed across the restaurant towards him. “Ash, you haven’t…”
He stopped himself as he noticed that Ash’s left hand was clutched around something near his stomach. Kenji immediately fell to his knees to get a better look. He placed a hand on Ash’s arm, and he relented to opening his hand. When his fingers unfurled, he saw the dark stains on his skin and the wetness spreading out on his shirt. The small, wooden handle of his pocket knife stuck out of his stomach.
Kenji clenched his hand into a fist and bit down on it. This was his fault. He thought he had hidden all of his knives before he left. He must have forgotten about his pocket knife. He was always leaving it in odd places. If only he kept it in a special place, kept it hidden, Ash might not have found it.
“I will get you to a doctor,” Kenji told him, rising to his feet and placing his hands on his shoulders. “It’s a small wound. They’ll be able to save you if we leave right now.”
Ash shook his head violently and grabbed onto the edges of the table with all his might. “I need to see it! When I go. It’s what I’ll see when I go! It’s what I’ll see!”
Kenji shook his head in confusion and looked to the table. There was the mark on the wood, just as it always had been. The small ‘t’ shape. He must have passed it hundreds of thousands of times already. Why would Ash think it was so special? Special enough to die in front of?
Getting back down on his knees, he tried to reason with Ash, to get him to come with him to BLES or another hospital. However, when his knees hit the ground this time, he could feel a wetness seeping under his clothes. Kenji stared at the dark floor underneath Ash’s chair. It was hard to see anything without the lights on, yet if he left to flip the switch, Ash might push the knife up further. Lowering his hand, he lightly placed it on the floor, feeling the small pool that had formed underneath.
He must have misjudged Ash’s injuries. He had lost so much blood already
. He might have been sitting in that chair, his pocket knife sticking out of his stomach for some time now.
“Ash.” Kenji reached up and grabbed ahold of him once more. “Ash, listen to me. This doesn’t have to be the end.”
“Yes,” he whispered out in a strain. “The end. It is a better one than I had envisioned.”
Ash looked fondly down at the mark and traced his hand against it. Something about the sight angered Kenji. Aaron had done the same thing so often. Aaron, who was in BLES on suspicion of giving into the Bandit…he had done just what this broken man was so desperate to do.
Kenji could see it in his eyes, he was ready to die. He was not going to be tempted back into life. Despite how hard Kenji fought to save him, Ash was more concerned with saving the world from himself. Yet all his hard work couldn’t be for nothing. There had to be something that came out of it, some purpose that made it all worth it.
Kenji grabbed Ash’s face in his hands, prying his eyes away from the mark in the wood. “I need you to tell me something before you go. Please, this is very important. I need a name. Just one name. Someone struggling to fight the Bandit. Someone I can help!”
Ash thrashed against his hold, fighting to see the carving.
“Please Ash! Just one name! Even a description! Someone that’s come into the restaurant. Anything!”
Ash’s eyes glazed and a smile formed on his lips as he stared down at the table. Slowly his head drooped. Kenji shook him, trying to force him not to give in just yet, but it was too late. His bottom lip came away from his mouth, strangely rigid and limp at the same time. His eyes were open, wide with the sight of his beautiful carving, yet Ash could no longer see. It was as if his eyes had turned into mirrors, reflecting everything and taking in nothing.
Kenji pressed his forehead against the table, coiling his arms around his head as he struggled hard not to give into the desperate cries lurching at the back of his throat. Ash was gone. He hadn’t saved him, hadn’t even used him to save one other life, hadn’t come in time to save Aaron from the unforgiving opinions of the doctors at BLES. Ash had been too busy staring at that mark in the wood.