by Dima Zales
“Where is the Triplex?” His words are dripping with contempt. He frees up my tongue, lips, and jaw. My voice cracks with fear.
“I don’t know.” He holds out his hand again and he somehow “tells” my right pinky to stretch back until it snaps. My pinky complies. It bends back until I hear it snap. The pain is unbelievable. Tears run down my face but I am silent as he has put my lips back under his control.
“Now let’s try that again. Where is the Triplex?” He frees up my mouth gain.
“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” I scream at him. “Please, stop! Please!”
He raises his hand once again, this time giving orders to my ring and middle finger. They follow directions. I scream so loudly inside my skull, I’m sure I’m going to explode. I can’t take the pain. My body is being made to break itself.
“I’ll do you a favor. I’ll kill you right here. It’ll be quick and painless. That way you won’t have to go before Lucy, deal?” He frees my mouth gain.
“Go to hell!” I cry out. Who the heck said that? I realize it’s me. I guess I’m more than in pain, I’m fighting mad. Well, verbally at least.
Agony shrugs his shoulders and says, “Okay, we’ll do it the hard way and take you to her. But before we go….”
He raises his hand a final time and snaps my index finger, thumb and wrist in one swift motion. I don’t call out. Not even in my head. The pain is so severe my body doesn’t know how to process it. My mind shuts down. I see a wave of darkness headed towards me. I greet it eagerly, close my eyes and pass out.
I see blurry shapes as I open my eyes. They move closer. I hear voices but they sound like they’re underwater. I try to move my mouth but can’t. I feel as if a ton of weight has been placed on top of me. There is no way I can move. I watch the blurry shapes mingle with each other. I think someone is calling my name, but I can’t be sure. Even if I were, I am unable to answer. The only thing I can do is let the weight pull me under. Just as I slip out of consciousness, I hear a voice whispering in my ear. It sounds soft, pained and lovely. It keeps repeating the same phrase over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“She’s gonna be a bit hazy when she wakes up. She has to take the pain medication I prescribed every four hours.”
“But she’s okay?”
“Please tell her to be more careful. She took a very bad spill. It’s lucky she only broke her hand.”
“Thank you so much Doctor.”
I can tell by my mom’s voice that she’s worried. I want to tell her I’m okay, but my tongue feels heavy. I slowly open my eyes. Thankfully the shapes are coming in to focus. It’s my mom and the doctor; he looks to be in his fifties, wears glasses and has a rosy face. He smiles at me. “How are you feeling, Ms. Baxter?” I blink a few times to get him into focus. He pushes a button on the side of my bed. The bed slowly rises, allowing me to be in a slightly elevated position. My mom pours me a glass of water. I drink it gratefully.
“I’m okay,” I say, when I’ve swallowed. My mom isn’t satisfied. She wants a point-by-point bulletin on how I’m feeling. How’s my hand? How’s my head? Did I want more water? I let her fuss because I know it’s the only way she can get the worry out of her system. She’s finally a bit calmer when the doctor informs her that I can be released as early as tomorrow.
She goes out into the hallway to call my uncle Max and tell him everything is okay. Uncle Max is my favorite and only uncle. He lives in Connecticut and comes down to see us for birthdays, and we go up to him for holidays.
He is the complete opposite of my mom: he’s reliable and practical. But we get along great. He and his wife, Tracy, always go out of their way to make sure we’re having a good time when we come over. They can’t have kids, so when I was little, they’d encourage me to tear up the house and make all the noise I wanted. They complained the house was always too quiet without kids in it.
My right hand isn’t in as much pain as it was before, but a dull throbbing ache radiates through my hand. I would ask for more pills, but I don’t want to feel foggy. I think that’s the trade off: no pain, but you feel like you live in a cloud. The door opens and I think it’s gonna be my mom but it’s not. It’s Miku and the others.
“How are you feeling?” Rio asks.
I smile weakly. “Isn’t it your job to know?”
“Yeah, but it sounds rude if I don’t ask,” Rio reasons.
“I know you hate all the attention I’m getting, but this is going too far,” Jay jokes.
“It’s what a girl has to do to get some attention when she’s surrounded by the good looking elite!”
Miku is closest to me. She holds my hand the whole time. I don’t need Rio to tell me that she’s feeling guilty. “I’m fine, Miku. It’s no big deal.”
“No, it’s my job to look after you and I failed. I’m so sorry,” she replies.
“Stop it. It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Ameana X-rays me. “He broke all your fingers and your wrist. That’s not fine. You don’t have to act brave. It’s our job to look after you, and we didn’t. It won’t happen again.”
What she says sounds sincere, but for some reason I feel uncomfortable hearing it. It feels like I’m a project. Like I’m a pet she left out for the night that got into trouble. I can take care of myself. I mean, maybe not against an Akon named Agony, but I’m not helpless.
Reese looks at me gravely. “How long do you plan to lie in that bed? I saw this really hot nurse and well….”
Jay picks up on his cue. “How could she see you when she’s busy looking at me?”
I zone out on their childish banter and focus on Marcus. I realize now that he’s been staring at me the whole time. He leans against the wall farthest from my bed, like he’s afraid I’ve got something he doesn’t want to catch. But his face doesn’t look repulsed at the notion of being next to me. In fact, it looks like he’s working hard to keeping himself away. But that doesn’t make sense. He has an expression on his face that I can’t read.
The conversation in the room is light. I think they are trying to keep my spirits up. Then Marcus speaks and the room goes completely quiet. His tone is dead serious.
“I told you not to go anywhere alone. You could have been killed.”
“I just needed some time to myself.”
“You don’t get time to yourself. You get security 24 hours a day. That’s it.”
“You don’t run my life. I will do what I want, when I want,” I say evenly.
“This isn’t about you. This is about the billions of people who will die if you don’t stop acting like a selfish brat!”
“Marcus,” Ameana scolds. He turns to her; she speaks with certainty and calmness. “We should let her rest.”
He looks over at me with daggers in his eyes. “I won’t have this conversation with you again.”
He storms out, and Ameana follows. Miku strokes my hair.
“He’s just tense because of the whole end-of-the-world thing,” Miku explains.
“I was almost killed by a demon and he’s yelling at me?”
“You’re the only lead we have, and more importantly, he doesn’t want anything to happen to you,” Reese says.
“Yeah, I’m the clue and he’d hate to lose the only lead he has. Got it,” I say cynically.
Rio was about to say something, but a quick glance from Miku told him not to.
“Why’d you take off?” Jay asks.
“I just wanted some time to myself that’s all.”
“Rio said you were upset. What happened?” Jay asks.
“Well I don’t know if you heard, but I’m being hunted down by Atourum.”
“That’s the only thing that drove you to want to be by yourself?” Reese asks.
“Yeah,” I lie. I don’t know if they buy it. I know Rio doesn’t. He sees right through me. I’m sure I am radiating jealousy and misery. I wait for him to say something but he doesn’t.
“Can you guys tell me what happened
? Why I’m not dead right now?” I ask, in a hurry to change the topic.
While holding my hand, Miku recounts the story.
“Agony was waiting for you to be alone. He sent out Runners to keep an eye on you. I couldn’t sing because of the large crowd in the lunch room, but Jay was able to take out two Runners before they had a chance to even draw their weapons. None of the kids had any idea anything was going on. Rio had to hold out his shield and stand in front of the cafeteria. Ameana and Marcus were following a lead, and by the time they got back, we had taken care of the Runners.”
“When we got to you, Agony was already dragging your body out the window. Ameana lifted him in the air and slammed him against the wall. You fell to the ground, and I went to make sure you were okay. Agony held out his hand and made Ameana choke herself. Before he could do more serious damage, Marcus ran in and threw him on the floor with such force the building shook. Agony’s body left an imprint. Ameana dropped a desk on his hand so he wouldn’t be able to use it.
“Marcus got on top of him and forced him to look into his eyes, asking the Akon his name. He said it with a little smile, ‘Agony.’”
“Marcus smiled, too, and said, ’Yes, it will be.’
“Then he looked deeper into the Akon’s eyes. Agony began to scream. He begged for Marcus to kill him. Marcus granted his wish and Agony disappeared in black smoke. Reese then went to take care of the Runners’ bodies, and Jay and I brought you to the hospital.”
“What did Marcus do to make Agony wish for death?”
“He can look into your eyes and see your worst fear. For Akons, its how they died. For humans it’s usually how they think they will die. Then he reflects it back to the person. Only that fear is magnified. They truly feel like it’s actually happening to them, but it’s a thousand times worse than what they thought it would be. If he looks into someone’s eyes and sees that they fear being burned alive, he then reflects it back to the person. They not only feel like they have been set on fire, they can actually smell their seared flesh.”
“I have to say, the way Marcus killed Agony, that was kind of overkill,” Jay says. “Marcus didn’t need to scare him to death. He has super strength. Even among angels, he’s stronger. And Agony is actually lower-ranked among the Akons. It’s not too hard to take him down; Marcus could have just crushed his skull.”
“Why didn’t he?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It’s like he was taking it personally,” Jay says, thinking aloud.
“Well, isn’t it personal? Agony attacked Ameana,” I say before I can censor myself.
Rio is about to say something but then thinks better of it yet again. What is he wrestling with? Why can’t he just spit it out?
“I tried to wake you but I couldn’t,” Miku said.
I can tell by the sadness in her eyes she is really shook up by the thought that something could have happened to me. I feel a pang of regret for going off on my own.
“Miku, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been off by myself. You didn’t know that this was going to happen. Please, stop blaming yourself.” She can’t look me in the eye.
I try to change the subject. “Do you guys have a lead on Julian?”
“We should let you sleep. We’ll come see you tomorrow,” Reese says.
I shake my head, “No.”
“Are you always this stubborn?” Jay asks.
“Um, yeah, pretty much.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll come over and explain everything but for now, just rest,” Reese adds.
“Fine, but tomorrow I want details,” I press.
They start to leave the room. I call Rio and ask him to stay. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he says, trying to sound casual.
“What was Marcus feeling when he was in the room earlier? I mean, besides highly pissed at me. I thought he was…I thought I saw a glimpse of something,” I explore, thinking back on his every move and word.
“You know, sometimes it’s great to know what people are feeling even before they do. I never lose at poker. Jay owes me like a million dollars cause I always know which way he’s gonna go. But sometimes it sucks because you know secrets about people you shouldn’t. I find it best to keep it to myself,” Rio declares.
“Don’t you think I should know what’s going on?” I plead.
“Don’t you think he should know why you ran off and needed to be on your own?”
“I needed to think,” I say lamely.
“About who?” Rio asks to register his point.
“You mean ‘about what?” I question cautiously.
“Do I?” he asks with a raised eye brow. I can’t answer him. He tells me to get some rest and heads out the door.
As I am drifting off, I vaguely remember my mom coming in saying something about an overnight stay and coming to pick me up tomorrow. I’m not sure if I answered her back. My eyelids are heavy, and giving into them feels good.
I wake up the next day and the painkillers have done their job. I want to throw a parade in honor of them. I’m still swollen and the sling and cast make it impossible to use my right arm. The nurse helps me put on my clothes.
“Do you know when my mother’s coming?” The nurse shakes her head “no.” I look at the clock. It’s 10:15 in the morning. I want to be home as soon as possible. I hate hospitals. Knowing that people have died here creeps me out. I also want to get back to normal. Well, as normal as I can with all that’s going on.
I look at the clock again. Five minutes have gone by, but it seems like forever. I really hate hospitals. Another nurse enters and says I’m being signed out. She puts me into a wheelchair and wheels me to the nurse’s station. I question the need for the chair.
“Really, I feel fine. I can walk out on my own.” Before the nurse can protest, someone interrupts us.
“Why can’t you just follow instructions?” I look up to tell this person to mind their own business, but the person speaking is Marcus, and the words die in my throat.
“What are you doing here?” I ask rudely.
“It’s nice to see you, too.” I think my rudeness stings him a little. Good, I hope it hurts. That’s what he gets for scolding me like a child.
“Your mom couldn’t get the day off, so we offered to pick you up and take you home.” I look around. “Where are the others?”
“I sent them on an errand.”
“Why, so you can scold me again?”
“No, so I can be alone with you.”
Marcus carefully helps me out of the car and into my apartment. He says I should give my mother a call so she knows that I’m okay. I call and her cell goes to voicemail. I leave her a message, trying to sound casual. I hope my voice doesn’t give away the fact that I am standing mere inches away from the only person I have thought about for the past 24 hours.
Marcus is looking over my shoulder as I hang up the phone. A part of me is still mad at him for the way he treated me yesterday. But an even bigger part of me is curious as to why he wants to see me alone. Maybe he wants to apologize. Or maybe he just wants me. I roll my eyes. I’m hopeless. Why would he want me, when he has Ameana? But there is some small flicker of hope that I can’t get to burn out.
“Are you okay?” he says pulling me out of my thoughts and silly daydreams.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I’m so in love with you.
“Come sit down. The doctor said you should rest,” he starts in again.
“I have to feed Ms. Charlotte, my cat.” I make my way towards the kitchen but he puts his hand gently on my shoulder. I feel my skin tingle where he’s placed his hands.
“I’ll do that. Just sit and relax.”
He guides me to the sofa.
“Do you need anything from the kitchen?”
I think about you all the time and even though we have only spent a few minutes together and you were rude for most of it, I love you. I love you. I love you.
“Emerson? Hello?” He startles me out of my thoughts aga
in. How long has he been calling my name?
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, failing to cover up my confusion.
“Do you need anything from the kitchen?”
“Um, no I’m okay.”
I’m finding it hard to look him in the eye. He’s so beautiful. I try and focus on the fact that he was a jerk to me the night before. That helps me think of him as a jerky gorgeous angel instead of well… a gorgeous angel.
“Thank you for coming to get me.” That’s the only thing I can think to say.
“It’s my job to make sure you’re okay. If I had done a better job as First Guardian, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all.”
Great, he’s here out of guilt. How romantic.
“Look, you don’t have to feel like you have to take care of me. I shouldn’t have run off, as you kindly pointed out yesterday when you were tearing into me.”
“You knew the rules. I specifically told you that you were not to be alone. You disobeyed me and you got hurt,” Marcus condemns me again.
“Wait, I’m confused. A minute ago it was your fault that I got hurt, and now it’s my fault?”
He takes a beat to calm down and says, “No, I should have known you wouldn’t follow directions. I should have anticipated that.”
“What does that mean?”
“You always go around doing whatever you want.”
“You don’t even know me,” I retort.
“Miku’s been filling me in. Everything you do is impulsive. You don’t think. Like the time your mom told you to stay in the car, and she came back and found you on the other side of the road nearly run over by a truck.”
“That guy almost plowed into Ms. Charlotte. I had to save her.”
“You ran across a busy street and risked your life to save a stupid cat you didn’t even know.”
“Don’t you call her stupid. She’s been with us ever since then. She’s family.”
“It was a stupid thing to do. You could have been killed.”
“Yeah, then you’d have to find your precious Triplex by yourself. Is that all you care about?”
“What else should I care about?”
“Nothing. Forget it. Just go home!” I’m done with this back and forth.