by Mela NoLeuca
CHAPTER EIGHT
Robyn's POV
It had been almost a month since Gould and I had always been on the run. By that time I learned that his Gold had a 'u' in it. Just felt like mentioning that bit because I felt like an idiot after having written down his name somewhere and he came looking for me with an offended look. I think it was when we were down to the two last Styrofoam cups and I needed to label mine from his.
We learned quite much from each other after that. I learned that the less whiny I was, the more of a good person he turned out to be. But the better I got with guns and gadgets the more I seem to get praises and rewards out of him.
I liked that.
We eventually packed and left the country by stowing away in some cargo train headed for South developing a routine that I eventually got accustomed to: ‘pack and pack and never unpack’ because we were never to stay in one of his headquarters for longer than two days. So he spent more time plucking wallets, renting rooms, buying food and only visited his hideouts when we needed to restock our own weapons.
In this black hobo bag that he snatched from a lady roughly four weeks ago, I had learned to pack just what I really needed. That included some underwear, guns, make up (of course), a forged passport, a fat wallet, a stolen 'enhanced' iPad and more guns.
We never owned cell phones, but what I did have was a pair of black studded pearl earrings he gave me. It was the most thoughtful gesture I got out of him, but then I became dubious when I could suddenly hear his voice in that one ear. Yes, it was a communication device between the two of us, apparently.
Of course, over the weeks I saw people die, explosions here and there but what really got me to the verge of craziness was the bloodbath and the sound of guns. I admit I was already captured once.
It was only because he left me in one of his Personal HQ somewhere up in Alaska. He thought I was going to be safe because of how low the population was and I already knew how to wield guns. He was training me to become his 'Tactical Information Supervisor,' TIS for short as he called it. But I think it was just a secretarial thing to feed him information from his surroundings and stuff.
I did my best to navigate my way around his weird techy stuff. When I got the basics, I eventually got the hang of it. I was slow but I knew I’d get better.
Unfortunately, he found himself cornered in a nearby town when I overlooked the tiny details I never knew he needed. I had to guide him back to me safely, only to find myself surrounded by some men with big guns there in his hideout. It went pretty ugly when Gould showed up. I learned a lot from that mistake.
I guess that was also when he became quiet again these past few days.
I was suspecting that it was because judging from the way he avoided killing those men he knew some of them. They had the abbreviations 'E. R. A.' stitched on the backs of their black vests then so that pretty much wrapped it up.
"I don't want to see them again under these circumstances," he began.
We were in his hideout in Brisbane this time, and you won't feel pretty much homesick since all his hideouts seem to all look the same. We just arrived here three hours ago when we ran out of bullets after an encounter with some of ARCs men as soon as we stepped out from the airport. I watched Gould indulge himself in the blood bath, leaving none for me to practice my recently developed skills.
Well, that was over now. And here I was trying to calm my nerves by drinking my cup of authentic Aussie chocolate drink on his bed.
"Who would you rather not see again?" I decided to play the part of a therapist. He needed it. I mean, after all those days with him keeping to himself, this was actually the best progress I could ever muster out of him. I missed hearing him laugh, seeing him smile and throw playful banters with me. That was what I needed to stay sane from all those 'eradications.'
"The guys from ERA," he sighed, leaning back on his leather office seat. He had his back turned to me, I suspected he was working his way again with his computers.
"I seem to have noticed how that scene affected you," I stated the obvious.
He sighed, then turned his chair to face me, "I basically killed my brothers,"
"They're all your brothers?" I managed to refrain from spitting out all of my chocolate onto his bedspread. I didn’t want to do the laundry if it was bigger than the clothes I was wearing. Actually, I didn't really wash them, I only washed my underwear because once after every two days Gould would snatch us some new clothes and burn the old ones.
Now I was wearing a black dress shirt and some black bubble shorts about a hand high above my knees, this time with black ballet slippers that actually fit me. The trench coat I grew accustomed to had also been torn away from me only to be replaced by a gray hoodie, I'll never forget the horrible day we wrestled to it to the ground only to lose so easily.
Gould, on the other hand was wearing a black shirt on and gray cargo pants and some running shoes, making him look like your average guy who was out for a jog.
"And you did not kill anyone, you just knocked them unconscious," I reminded him.
"You can call it that," he sighed heavily. "They were all in my batch, and seeing those badges on their arms, they've all graduated."
I nodded carefully quickly taking small sips from my Styrofoam cup. I leaned back against the cool wall and waited for him to carry on.
"And I missed it," he brought his fists to his eyes then chaffed his face before getting up.
I asked where he was headed.
"To celebrate," he said not entirely too enthusiastic about it. He was tucking away his two favorite guns into his pants, "I made this for you, by the way."
He reached past the standing rifles and brought out a petite gray handgun that seemed as big as my hand when I make a 'gun' gesture. It wasn't angular and edged, instead it was smooth, black and very feminine.
"I call it the Black Robin 2012 model," he grabbed my hand for me to take it. I measured its weight and disassembled and reassembled it, finding a metal blade hiding in its thick grip.
"Self defense when you run out of bullets," He quickly added.
I nodded in awe, "where are the bullets?"
He shrugged and handed me slim magazines, "they're more of pellets actually,"
I gave him a wry smile, "wow, I feel so deprived and honored right now,"
"Hey its cheap, it's not easy to waltz in and out of an arsenal you know," he defended.
I shook my head and laughed. "Thank you, but why are we celebrating? I'm pretty sure it's not my birthday today," then I paused, was it?
"No, but the results came out this morning," he smile too widely.
"What results? Wait, you mean I'm a nurse? For real?" Oh my God. I was planning a follow up question on how he found the time to make a gun for me, but I didn't care anymore. I'm a registered nurse! How he knew I guess I’ll never find out either.
He nodded, "just promise me you won't make a scene,"
I nodded like a toddler high on sugar, "when are we getting my license?"
He gave me a knowing look, "maybe after all this is done,"
"Oh right," I slumped back, chugging my hot chocolate. Of course, I can't walk around in public, claim my license and join the oath taking. That would be suicide.
"But we can celebrate," he winked and I threw myself at him in a body slam of a hug. Joy sizzled through every fiber of my body as I danced it off victoriously in front of him.
"Well what are you waiting for?" I laughed excitedly, "let's celebrate!"
I yanked him out of his surprised catatonia by grabbing his arm. He shut down the place right after I grabbed my bag and we walk down the stairs at the back of the apartment that let straight through an alley. Like what we have talked through together, our little act was to pretend that we had a feisty quickie together. I wouldn't actually mind if we really did, but anyway I applied rouge lipstick on my lips only to messily smear it around my mouth as Gould roughed himself up. Then I wiped my stained hands around his lips and neck, adding a little bit pr
essure so that I could get an annoyed expression out of him.
"Seriously?" he hissed.
I knew it was childish but I couldn't help but laugh at his priceless look. I just grinned at him, he rolled his eyes and stepped out of the dark alley into the busy street.
I sighed, remembering our last encounter at an alley. Everything felt so different now. I still don't know why he decided to have me with him. I know I had no choice because this guy was the reason I'm still alive.
Usually when he walked off he wouldn't care if I followed him or not. But that changed when he peeked down the alley and gave me an irritated gesture to hurry. I wasn't sure if it was just me or if it actually meant something, but I felt a burst of silly happiness bubble throughout me.
I ran after him.
It only took a genius like me to figure that by celebrating, he meant grabbing some food to bring back home. I begged him to go to the movies and watch with me but being the boring, stuck up ass that he was, we decided that we could make a quick stop at a DVD store to buy some movies.
So here I am browsing through some music and movies. The store was just about three shelves wide with several movies littering the walls. I walked over to the music section by the shelf closest to the left corner of the store and checked out the new albums. The player had a song rolling by Linkin’ Park, eagerly I fitted the headphones and nodded to the beat.
Hell yeah! Numb featuring Jay-Z had to be the best song I could ever relate to right now. Gould peeked through a shelf, giving me thumbs up and a questioning look. I nodded at him and motioned him back to shoo. He pointed to his stolen watch; I mimed for him to give me a minute more. Until he finally began pointing modestly to a young lady in uniform pestering him with movies to watch, from the way she kept closing the distance between them and how she played a tempting smile on her lips, she was flirting with him. I laughed at him teasingly.
I did forget to mention that he was quite a looker that every time we walked in some place he had all the women staring at him like he was the last desirable bag displayed on an all out sale that everyone coveted. I waggled my brows playfully at him that convinced him even more that we needed to leave now.
“I’m sorry but we simply have to get going,” he had a strained smile as he tried to back away from the brunette who was harassing him.
"No we’re not," I added, challenging his deadly glares at me, until I finally added, “but miss maybe you’d like to step away from my boyfriend?”
I watched the girl’s pretty little face turn red as she apologized, trying to defend herself that she was just helping him out choose which movie was better.
“Maybe he could think better if you had more cleavage to show, now if you could please just button that up I’m sure he could decide better,” I pointed at her uniform that had two buttons undone out of five. She hugged herself and simply walked off to their tiny faculty room at the other corner of the shop.
“I think that was too harsh,” he managed to say when the door closed behind the store clerk. He cleared his throat then he turned to me curtly, “carry on then, just move a bit faster before,” he shuddered then snapped, “just move faster!”
I rolled my eyes as he stormed to the other nearby shelf trying to busy himself. I smiled triumphantly and grabbed a random cd to listen to.
"You can't run forever, Robyn," said a manly voice just before the song ended. I whipped my head around with my hand ready to yank out my new gun. When there wasn't anyone nearby I listened on with my hand resting on my gun. It might be trap for all I knew.
"I have something that can solve your problem. Sticking with your fake boyfriend will only add more problems to your life, let’s face it, he doesn’t know what to do" it went on.
It only took me a few words more to make me realize how distinctly familiar this voice was. I racked my brains, cranking it on an overdrive to figure who this guy is.
"Tell Gould that I'll be waiting at The Robins, the bar three blocks down the right of the Sydney Opera House. He knows what I'm talking about. I'm really sorry you have to put up with this, but I promise, you will be safe."
"Oh my God," I hastily removed the headphones and started backing away from the stand as if any moment it could explode. Those words haunted me like the girl from The Ring whispering ‘Seven Days’ through the phone. "Gould?"
"What?" He stepped out from a shelf with two DVDs in hand. Judging by how quickly he looked alarmed, I must have looked as pale as I felt I’d be. My head was spinning and I’m on the brink of my sanity.
"What's wrong?" He took a step forward, awkwardly trying to reach out for me in a feeble attempt to calm me down.
"We have to go," I spluttered, pushing Gould all the way to the counter to pay for the movies. I know it was ridiculous but I still was looking forward to watching a movie.
"Robyn," He called out but I ignored him.
The need to remember his name seemed like an instinct to breathe that I could suffocate from it unless I figured it out. When we stepped out the sun was beating down on my skin and the wind slapped locks of my hair to my face, an aggressive roar of a motor bike revved from a distance and that was when it hit me.
"Robyn, what's wrong?" Gould grabbed my arm keeping me close as I earned a few glances from an Aussie crowd walking by.
"It's the biker dude!" I exclaimed. It was all coming back to me now; I was hyperventilating as I put two and two together. Why else would he try and find a way to contact me now that I am a registered nurse? Why else would he even imply that one out of every four nurses works part time? Okay, maybe I didn’t understand how that last bit went, but I think what he meant was I’m doing something way off my field.
"What?"
"Yes, the biker dude! He warned me this would happen! God how dense could I get?" I gasped out.
Now Gould was looking at me like I was some lunatic that grew an extra head, but he still held a firm gaze on me, tugging me to start walking with him. "Who's the biker dude?" he whispered impatiently.
"I don't know yet," I laughed incredulously, but I suddenly felt so determined, "but he knows something we don’t."
I know I already said this but who knew one day his words would finally make sense?
This time, when I get the chance to bump into a crazy hobo babbling nonsense to me, I will pay attention to whatever he’d have to say, because I can never tell if it can actually help me in the next following days.