Divide & Conquer

by Madeleine Urban

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Agent Garrett, it is a temporary side effect,” he assured him. “Now that we know there’s not a critical injury, there’s no reason for you to remain here. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable at home.”

  Zane swallowed. “At home. Alone.”

  “Are you saying you want to remain in the hospital?” the doctor asked him in surprise. “That’s not really an option, Agent Garrett.”

  “No, I suppose it’s not,” Zane murmured, dropping his chin.

  “It’ll be about an hour,” the doctor told him, sounding relieved that he wouldn’t have to talk Zane down out of the proverbial tree. “We’ll just get that started for you,” he said. His shoes squeaked as he turned away.

  “Hey,” Zane said abruptly. “Is there anything I should be doing while I’m at home?”

  He heard the doctor stop and turn around. “Don’t run into things,” the man advised after a moment of thought.

  “Yeah, that’ll be a piece of cake,” Zane muttered.

  “Rest. Relax. Let someone take care of you,” the doctor told him seriously. “The nurse will be back soon,” he added. Then slightly squeaky footsteps faded away.

  “Relax,” Zane said as if someone were standing there. He wasn’t all too sure someone else wasn’t, actually. “He says relax.” He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face.

  With a sigh, Zane pulled one leg up and wrapped an arm around his knee as he sat there wondering what the hell he was going to do. He’d already made up his mind not to call Annie. He was sure his sister would fly out here if he needed her, but there really wasn’t anything for her to do. There wasn’t really anything anyone could do. That was what was so goddamn frustrating.

  A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door frame of his room. “You want Cheetos or a Snickers?” Ty asked in a disgruntled tone.

  Zane turned his chin as soon as he heard the knock. “Snickers will be easier,” he said. Although the Cheetos sounded good, Zane knew better than to fight Ty for them.

  He could hear Ty unwrapping the candy bar as he moved closer. “Hold out your hand,” Ty ordered when he got to the side of the bed.

  Shifting slightly toward Ty, Zane did so, palm up. Ty placed the Snickers in his hand without a word, and then Zane felt him move away and heard him flop into a chair of some kind. The springs squeaked.

  Zane lifted the bar tentatively to his lips, surprised when he found it difficult to hit his mouth. He took a bite and chewed slowly. “Doctor was here,” he said as he savored the chocolate.

  “That was faster than I expected. And?” Ty asked eagerly.

  “They’re sending me home.”

  “That’s good, right?” Ty asked. “When can we leave?”

  “He said an hour.” Zane wasn’t sure about answering the first question.

  The chair creaked as Ty leaned forward. His voice was closer when he spoke. “We talked about this. You don’t want to go home?”

  “Yeah, I want to go home. I hate hospitals. It’s just….” Zane frowned.

  “You wish you could see,” Ty provided matter-of-factly.

  Zane nodded. He carefully took another bite of the Snickers. “Don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with myself. It’ll be a whole new level of staring at four walls.”

  “Well,” Ty murmured thoughtfully. “Man up, Zane. Shit happens, you know? We’ll get out of here and get some real food.”

  Zane sat startled for a long moment and then actually chuckled. “Welcome back.”

  “What?”

  “You sounded a lot more like your normal grumpy asshole self,” Zane explained. “Rather comforting, actually.” Something about that just made Zane want to laugh. “Yeah, you’re going to make a great valet.”

  He was surprised by a thump on the tip of his nose. He hadn’t even heard or felt Ty move. He swiped out with one hand in a belated reaction. “Hey! I’ve seen you use an iron. That is damn impressive.”

  “Marines either know how to use an iron or they get married,” Ty advised through a mouthful of Cheetos. “The iron is less dangerous.”

  Zane snorted and almost swallowed the chunk of candy bar in his mouth without chewing it up. “That’s actually pretty funny.”

  “I try.”

  Chapter Seven

  ZANE felt the cab come to a stop. He’d lost track of the twists and turns a while back, and he had no idea if they were at his apartment, Ty’s house, or somewhere altogether different. He’d already decided there was no way he’d be saying the words “Are we there yet?”—Ty would go ballistic.

  So he sat quietly, face turned toward the window, chin down.

  He was wearing scrubs from the hospital; his suit had been trashed. He knew he wasn’t bloody, despite the bruises everywhere, so he figured he didn’t look too bad.

  “We’re here,” Ty told him. The door on Ty’s side opened. “Hold on. I’ll come get you,” he said before the door slammed shut.

  Zane didn’t move. He knew this was going to be tough, trying to get around, and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to it. He’d barely said a word the whole drive over, just thinking about what he would be facing if he wasn’t able to see again. He knew it was too soon to start worrying and planning, but fuck all, he’d only just gotten a bunch of shit in his head straightened out, and now this?

  The door at his side opened up, and Ty took his elbow gently. “Watch the curb when you step down. It’ll come up fast,” he mumbled, sounding as if he was looking down at the ground as he spoke.

  Zane turned in the seat and set one foot down. He could feel the soft decline of the curb and shifted his foot a little farther forward before pushing himself out of the seat to stand. Ty got him onto the sidewalk, gave him a pat on the shoulder, then removed his hand from Zane’s elbow. Zane heard Ty talking briefly to the cabbie.

  Shifting carefully, Zane moved further away from the car and waited. He could tell by the familiar smell of Italian restaurants in Little Italy that they were at his apartment. He also knew which way the front door to the apartment was, but he didn’t know how far away it was. And there were steps and a railing and a bench and some broken concrete in the sidewalk and what if it was almost garbage day and there was a trash can at the curb? Zane groaned. His battered brain was channeling Ty.

  “Here,” Ty said, surprising Zane out of his circling thoughts. Ty took Zane’s hand and pressed something into it. “Use that,” he instructed as he held Zane’s hand around a curved wooden grip.

  Zane realized it was the umbrella he kept beside the door to his apartment. He frowned and curled his fingers around the handle, moving it slightly in front of him. It definitely wasn’t a cane, but he figured if he moved it in front of him it would hit something before he did. “Good idea,” he murmured.

  “I know,” Ty responded easily, a smile evident in his voice. He took Zane’s elbow and turned him. “Take your time, shuffle your feet when you’re not certain. If you hesitate or anticipate, you’re more liable to trip over nothing,” he advised.

  Zane grimaced. “Right,” he murmured as he took a breath and took a couple steps. He could feel the hard surface under his feet, so at least he was on the walk. Although he felt like a complete idiot, he swung the umbrella carefully in front of him, the end down around his knees. When he hit something metal that clanged, he stopped in surprise, trying to remember what it could be.

  “Just the railing,” Ty said at his side. “Steps,” he added as his grip tightened on Zane’s elbow.

  Zane still paused. “How far? Step up now?”

  “Yes,” Ty answered curtly. “Kick out with your toes to find it.”

  Zane lifted his foot, kicked, finding the front of the step, and then he put his foot on it, somewhat surprised when it worked. He repeated the motion two more times and stopped. “That’s all, right?”

  “Yep,” Ty answered, and he let go of Zane’s arm. The sound of the keys in the door followed, and the door squeaked as it op
ened. Ty took his arm again, but he didn’t pull him. “Come on,” he instructed. “Don’t drag your feet, there’s a doorjamb.”

  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Zane said, following the directions and getting inside without a problem.

  “When I was little,” Ty answered in a softer voice. “We’ll use the umbrella until I can find something better.”

  Zane frowned again and placed one hand against the wall he knew was to his right side. “No one in your family is blind.”

  “My great-grandmother. She died when I was fourteen.”

  Zane nodded and started moving, letting his hand skim along the wall. He knew he had several feet until he got to a bookshelf. He was on the main drag through the apartment. It led to the kitchen in front of him. He was in the living room, and after the bookshelves there was a hallway to the right with four doors: two bedrooms, a closet, and a bathroom. He didn’t really have much furniture, so what trouble could he get into?

  “At least I know where stuff is in my own house,” he murmured as he walked until his hand met the wood of the shelves.

  “That’s kind of the idea, sport,” Ty murmured from somewhere in front of him.

  Zane deliberately closed his eyes to visualize the couch and chairs, and then he swept the space in front of him before taking two careful steps to stop right behind the sofa. He trailed his fingers over it as he walked around the side, and with a sigh of relief he sank down onto it.

  Ty patted him on the head as soon as he was down, like he would a dog who’d performed a trick correctly. His voice was the only way to tell where he was. He didn’t seem to make any other noise when he moved. No footsteps, no swish of clothing, no cracking bones or creaking joints. Nothing. Eerie. Vintage Ty.

  “Want food? It’s not too late yet,” Ty asked as he moved away.

  “Yes,” Zane said fervently as he lightly batted after Ty’s hand. “There was nothing wrong with me and still they wanted to feed me broth and Jell-O.”

  “Jell-O’s good,” Ty argued from the kitchen.

  “Not when you’re starving, it’s not,” Zane shot back. He kicked off his shoes, making sure to carefully push them under the old coffee table before he stripped off his socks and propped his legs up. He leaned his head against the back of the couch. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine it was a Sunday afternoon and he was just being lazy instead of it being Monday night after the day from the third ring of hell.

  “Well, what do you want?” Ty asked in something close to annoyance. His voice had moved. He was standing right in front of Zane.

  Zane twitched in surprise and his eyes flew open. “Christ, Ty,” he complained.

  “What?” Ty asked defensively. “I’m hungry!”

  “It’s a good thing I’ve calmed down recently,” Zane told him. “If I’d had my gun, I’d have pulled it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Zane shook his head and wiped one hand over his face. “Order deep dish from Isabella’s. They should still be open.”

  Ty pressed a phone into Zane’s hand. “Here. I need ibuprofen,” he said as his voice trailed away.

  “Kitchen cabinet next to the sink,” Zane said distractedly as he ran his fingers over the buttons, trying to figure out how to do this. It was easier to do with his eyes closed, even though he couldn’t see anyway. After two aborted attempts, he got the number he had memorized into the phone and made the order for delivery.

  He could hear Ty banging around and rattling the bottle of ibuprofen. He heard him open and close the refrigerator. Then he stopped making noise again. A few seconds later, Zane heard the pop and hiss of a carbonated drink being opened just a few feet away.

  Zane turned his face that way. “You know, I knew you could be scary. I just didn’t realize how fucking scary. I didn’t hear you move. At all.”

  “What?” Ty asked in the same distracted, slightly confused tone of voice he’d used earlier. “You want a drink?” he offered belatedly.

  “I’ll wait for pizza. I said, you’re so quiet when you move I didn’t hear you at all. Even footfalls in the carpet, and I know how to listen for those things.”

  “Oh,” Ty said abashedly. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Just confirms that you don’t even have to think about it.” Zane tipped his head, turning an ear toward him. “You going to stand there ’til the pizza gets here?”

  “Thought about it. Kinda hurts to sit,” Ty admitted.

  “Still hurting a lot from the baseball game?” Zane frowned. “You didn’t go into the building and get hurt, did you?”

  “Nope,” Ty answered as he sat down. The couch beside Zane shifted as he got comfortable.

  Zane still frowned, listening to Ty’s voice carefully, but there was nothing there to clue him in. “I’d like to know what happened. One moment I was walking through this store to check the storeroom, the next I’m waking up to total black.”

  “There was an explosion,” Ty told him. He grunted heavily, and the next thing Zane knew, Ty’s head was resting on his thigh. “About a dozen agents and cops were injured. Six of ours in the hospital. No fatalities, as far as I know.”

  Zane’s frown faded, and he moved his hand to gently settle atop Ty’s head, stroking lightly. “You saw it from the truck?”

  “Yeah,” Ty answered softly. He stretched, set his drink on the table, then settled back against Zane. “You were carried out by a very large fireman named Tank,” he informed Zane in amusement.

  “Tank?”

  “That’s the guy who ran me over.”

  “Oh yeah, met him at the field briefly.” Zane slid his fingers down over Ty’s cheek. “Got about half an hour on the pizza. Why don’t you catch a quick nap?”

  “You gonna be okay?” Ty asked him, not even trying to argue.

  “I’m staying right here,” Zane said, his hand settling on Ty’s shoulder so his fingers flickered along Ty’s temple through his hair. He felt Ty’s arm move, and he imagined Ty was probably putting his forearm over his eyes like he did when he was worn out.

  “Wake me if you need anything,” Ty mumbled.

  “Okay,” Zane murmured as he rested his neck a little more comfortably along the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He tuned into Ty’s breathing as Ty relaxed, smiling as he felt Ty go to sleep, and after a quiet minute, Zane carefully shifted, pulled out the cell phone a helpful nurse had saved from his suit, and activated the voice command function.

  “Call Deuce Grady.”

  Did you say “Call Deuce Grady”?

  “Yes.”

  Dialing.

  Zane took a deep breath and tried to let it out slowly as the phone rang on the other end, somewhere in Philadelphia. Ty didn’t even twitch in his lap.

  “Hello,” Deuce answered after the second ring. There was nothing terse or clipped in the way he answered the phone, just another trait of Deacon Grady’s that was wildly unlike his brother.

  “Hey, Deuce,” Zane managed, pretty happy that his voice came out sounding mostly normal.

  “Hey, Zane, how’s it going?” Deuce responded easily.

  Zane swallowed. “Not so great,” he admitted.

  “What’s wrong?” Deuce demanded, his voice losing the laid-back quality and becoming more urgent. “Is Ty hurt? Are you hurt? Why didn’t Ty call me to tell me? Is he even conscious? What happened?”

  Zane resisted the urge to laugh as he gently petted Ty’s hair. “Ty is fine. He’s asleep. He wasn’t the one hurt this time.”

  “Oh,” Deuce muttered, not sounding at all embarrassed over his outburst. “But you’re hurt? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “An explosion happened. A surprise one,” Zane answered. “I’m okay. Mostly. No limbs missing or anything,” he tried to joke.

  “A surprise explosion,” Deuce repeated slowly. He sounded like he might be writing that down. “Interesting,” he drew out under his breath. “As opposed to a not-surprise explosion. And it did what, e
xactly?”

  “Apparently some of the parts in my head got a little scrambled,” Zane said awkwardly. “I can’t see.”

  “You can’t see what?”

  “Anything. I can’t see. I’m blind.” Zane was pretty proud that his voice didn’t shake or break upon saying it out loud like that.

  “You’ve lost your vision,” Deuce summarized in a clinical tone, not an ounce of pity or apology. “Is this a permanent thing?” he asked more carefully. He seemed to be wavering between psychiatrist and friend as they spoke.

  Several seconds passed before Zane realized he hadn’t answered. “They don’t know,” he murmured, recalling bits and pieces of what the doctors had said.

  “I see.” Deuce was silent for a long moment. “Let me ask you this, Zane: are you calling because you need a friend or because you need a shrink?”

  “I want to talk to you, Deuce, not Dr. Grady,” Zane said, knowing he sounded a little plaintive. “I know we’ve sort of blurred the lines along the way.”

  “Then let me just say: dude, that sucks,” Deuce drew out with feeling.

  Zane cracked a grin and laid his hand on Ty’s chest so he could feel it rise and fall evenly. “No shit, man.”

  “Are you with Ty or are you staying alone?”

  “We’re at my apartment. I know my way around here,” Zane said. “I just got out of the hospital. I don’t even know what time it is.”

  Deuce hummed thoughtfully. “Did Ty tell you our great-grandmother Elsie was blind? She had this watch that you could flip up and feel to tell time. Ty might have it. But then, that was twenty years ago. There’s also a button on your phone that will do that, I think.”

  “We’ve not had much chance to talk. I was really out of it for a while. It’s still… sinking in,” Zane said slowly. “The panic is starting to creep up on me, and I’m trying to let him sleep a little.”

  “I can imagine,” Deuce said sympathetically. “Doesn’t do any good to tell you not to panic, either.”

  Zane’s laugh had a little edge to it. “Right.” He blinked several times, resisting the urge to rub at his dry eyes. The doctors had said over and over that it wouldn’t help and would probably hurt. But he wasn’t sure where the bag from the hospital was, and even if he did know, he wasn’t going to wake up Ty to get to it. “This… isn’t good,” he said, and his voice definitely shook.