Blood Hunter

by Debra Jess

  "Everyone out," the Shield shouted.

  Scott scrambled out of his seat and ran around to Hannah's side of the car pulling the door open for her. She threw herself into his arms. Needing to hold her close again, he pulled her tighter, his cheek lying on top of her head while he rubbed her back, his gloves rough against her cotton shirt. He didn't want to waste a moment with her in his arms.

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Shield pull McNamara out of the passenger side.

  "We'll get you to the Emergency Department," Hannah said, pulling away, but keeping a hand on Scott’s chest.

  McNamara grimaced as he put weight on his ankle. "No. Leave the ED for the real emergencies. All I need is RICE: rest, ice, compression and elevation. I can do that in my office. We'll be safer there."

  "I still have to go to the Emergency Department. They need me," Hannah said.

  What? The determined look in her eye scared him more than it reassured him. He touched her shoulder, gloves on shirt. For the first time, he noticed she clutched a small box to her chest. What was in there that was so important she hadn't dropped it when she started running?

  "No, they don't," Scott said, gripping her shoulders so she would have to pay attention to him. "If you get caught down there, if the Committee sees you bloodsurfing — hell, if they even suspect you of bloodsurfing, they'll have you arrested. You can't help anyone from jail."

  Her face turned manic. She heard him, but she wasn't listening. "I managed to get away from Miranda. I escaped her prison. Do you think Thunder City can stop me?"

  Fear. It was just her fear talking. "Yes. Why do you think we have Rocklin Prison? Why do you think no Alt has escaped from there in ten years? You think Chaos Alts like being locked up? You think you're more powerful than Rocker or Black Hole?"

  "But the wounded...I could heal them. I can heal all the others too. Alek...Evan...what if they're down there?"

  "They will be fine." Her face crumpled as his own stomach froze. He'd avoided thinking about what might have happened to his brother — whichever one it was — who fell into the explosion during their mad escape. When had he started to care so much? There was a time when he would have shrugged off the loss. "T-CASS had the entire boardwalk covered. Someone would have dived in to find him. Have a little faith, okay?"

  He started to pull her close again, to offer comfort and gain some comfort for himself, but McNamara pulled her away with a yank on her collar. He'd managed to hobble over while leaning on the Shield.

  "Enough of that. There are security cameras all over the garage. The two of you are going to destroy whatever future you think you might have if you keep this up."

  Scott stood toe-to-toe with the Doctor, ready to slug him. This was the second time in as many days the man had come between him and Hannah.

  "You know I'm right," McNamara said, not intimidated in the least.

  Scott glanced at the Shield, who just stood there and watched. The guy looked relaxed, as if he wanted to stay out of the squabble, but Scott knew better. If he took a swing at McNamara, the Shield would have him pinned on the ground, maybe with a bullet in his head, before Scott took his next breath. No wonder McNamara didn't back down, with the Shield at his back.

  "Guys." Hannah forced McNamara's hand off her shirt. "This isn't helping anyone. Least of all Alek or Evan."

  McNamara hopped back half a step. "Hannah, listen to me. If you're seen anywhere near any of the patients in his hospital, the consequences will be severe. You want people to respect you? You want people to have faith in you? Then listen to Scott. Have faith, not just in T-CASS to save the day, but in the doctors who are, as we speak, working to heal the wounded. Even if you were down there, we would still be needed."

  Scott could see the change in Hannah. She listened to McNamara, even though the man praised Scott's response, she paid attention to what McNamara said over Scott. The rebellion left her eyes. She lowered her gaze to the floor and nodded. So simple. Whereas Scott had only reinforced Hannah's rebellion, McNamara had deflated it.

  And that pissed him off more than anything else, because it gave him no other option than to back down.

  "We can't stand here in the parking garage all afternoon," McNamara continued. "Let's get inside and figure out what to do from there."

  Only then did the Shield step away to grab the rifle Scott had left in the car.

  Great. Even with his hospital ID, the Shield looked like a terrorist on his good day. "You can't bring the rifle into the hospital."

  "Watch me."

  Fucking hell, why did everyone think he was an idiot? Why did no one ever listen to him? Scott risked another fight and grabbed the other man's arm. Maybe he had a death wish. Maybe he just wanted someone to challenge him.

  "You can hide the handguns. You can't hide the rifle. Even if the hospital allowed you to use one before, if you go in there like this now, you'll trigger a lockdown. The hospital is already receiving casualties from the harbor. We don't know if the anti-Alts will try to sneak in here. This will make things worse. This will only bring more attention to McNamara and Hannah."

  Maybe the Shield could see his logic, because he didn't attack. Scott had expected him to put up a fight. Instead, the Shield looked over Scott's shoulder to McNamara.

  "Do as he says." McNamara sighed, but motioned toward the back of the car. "Put the rifle in the trunk."

  The Shield jerked his arm away from Scott, but did as asked, his expression as unreadable as ever. They made it into the hospital without further incident.

  "I have a first aid kit in my office." McNamara put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder. "I think Hannah could use some quiet time. No one will look for her down there."

  Scott looked at Hannah, but she looked at McNamara, not him. McNamara was right, but Scott ground his teeth in frustration anyway. She would be safer in Pathology than where he was going.

  "I'll go to the Emergency Department." He reached out to touch Hannah's cheek with his gloved hand, not caring who watched. "Just in case Alek or Evan. . . ."

  Saying their names snapped her back to look at him. "I could still go with you and not bloodsurf."

  "No. Like the doc said, the last thing we need is for the Oversight Committee to think you're bloodsurfing down there. Even if you're not. Even if Thomas's security is back online and we can prove you're not. All it takes is one accusation and you're back to square one with them. Stay with McNamara for now."

  She at least kissed the tips of her gloved fingers, and blew the kiss to him. His heart eased its worry. "Find me later," she said.

  He nodded. He overheard the Shield tell McNamara that he was going to keep an eye on Scott. Good. Scott had a few questions he needed answered.

  No sooner had they gotten Hannah and McNamara on an elevator headed down, than the Shield shoved Scott against the nearest wall.

  "Why the hell didn't you grab another rifle?"

  Scott pushed back against the Shield, but the man didn't move. So much for his chance to ask his own questions. "What are you talking about?"

  The Shield stepped nose to nose with Scott. "You're out of bullets, your men are down, your girlfriend is helpless, and you had people to protect. Why didn't you translocate another rifle from your enemies so we both had one?"

  Scott's heart sunk. "I never even thought — "

  "Stop thinking like a Norm. Stop thinking about control. Stop thinking like a cop who has rules and laws that need to be obeyed. That's what T-CASS wants from you. That's what your mother wants from you. Start thinking about what you have to do to get the job done."

  Before Scott could answer, the Shield spun away from the bank of elevators toward the main desk lobby. He stopped near a tall potted plant next to a couple of couches already filled with people waiting. The people stared at them. No, they stared at the Shield. Scott was just an accessory.

  The Shield paused behind the plant, his voice just low enough so no one else could hear. "Do you see the receptionist?"

/>   "Can't miss her." The poor woman tried to keep up with the phone calls and answer questions from the line of people standing in front of her. The entire hospital buzzed with controlled anticipation. This was going to be a very long day and the harried look on her face said it all.

  The Shield pulled back from the plant and leaned against the nearest wall, trying to adopt a casual pose, but not quite getting it right. Scott pulled back too, shielding the Shield. The last thing they needed was more attention. "Remove her earring."

  "What?"

  "Remove her earring. Call it to you."

  "Why?"

  The Shield reached under his jacket. "Bring me the earring or I'll shoot her."

  Scott panicked, certain the Shield would do it. After the day they’d already had, after all the people they had killed, Scott didn't doubt for a second that the Shield would go through with his threat.

  He was reaching for the Shield, desperate to stop him from pulling out his gun and creating chaos, when something dropped from his left glove. A fishhook earring hit the floor at his feet.

  "And you didn't even have line-of-sight." The Shield pulled his empty hand from his holster.

  "Your point?" Scott stooped to grab the earring, missing because of his bulky gloves. So he pulled an earring out of a woman's ear. Frustrated, he yanked off the glove and picked it with his bare fingers.

  "You're bored." The Shield shifted his hands behind his back. More casual, but still failing to look less dangerous. If he would just take off the damn sunglasses, he might be able to pull off normal. "T-CASS hates you, and you hate them. You hate that they're not taking you seriously. You hate that you have to prove yourself all over again. You hate that you've become what you've hated. When Highlight tells you to pull one of those damned beanbags, you'd rather be anywhere else than where you are. That makes you sloppy and you miss."

  How the fuck did he know about Highlight? How could he better understand Scott's emotions than even Scott himself? This guy had him targeted long before he showed up in the Arena. Not to mention there was a big difference between an earring, a beanbag, and a gun.

  "So, what? You're saying I can't get the job done unless someone's life is threatened?"

  "I'm saying you need motivation and respect. Without both, there's no point in staying with T-CASS. You might as well leave town because you're not going to be able to satisfy their desire to control you."

  "They don't want to control me. They want me to control my ability so people don't get hurt."

  "People get hurt regardless. You have control. You need to loosen your control to let your ability work for you, not for anyone else. Just you."

  Scott didn't respond. Everything the Shield said was the exact opposite of what T-CASS was trying to teach him. "So what do I do?"

  The Shield motioned toward the earring. "Put it back."

  Was he crazy? "How. I mean, it's so small."

  "So was the bullet you put in Dane's forehead. Small, fast, and dead center. This is no different."

  Scott choked at the casual reference to his killing Miranda. Yet, Scott had to wonder why he reacted more viscerally to killing Dane than he had to the people he’d killed less than half an hour ago.

  "Do it." The Shield reached for this gun again.

  Scott turned toward the desk. This time he would use line-of-sight. He focused on the receptionist.

  "I can't see that far. I don't even know which ear to aim for. What if I miss and put it in her nose?"

  "It could only improve her looks."

  No help, and no more excuses. The Shield's hand was still on his holster. Would he really do it? Would he really shoot the receptionist? Scott hadn't seen him miss a target in the parking lot, even with one hand on the steering wheel and aiming out of the car window.

  Not sure what else to do, Scott pictured the earring, then the receptionist. He imagined an empty hole in the ear that wasn't pressed against the phone's handset.

  The earring disappeared. The receptionist didn't flinch.

  "Did it work?" the Shield asked.

  "How should I know? I can't see that far."

  The Shield let loose a long suffering sigh. "Go find out."

  Scott mimicked the Shield's sigh, but headed for the desk. He bypassed the long line of people and pretended to search the desktop. The receptionist put down the handset to the phone. "Sir, I have to ask you to wait in line."

  Two earrings, one in each ear. He'd done it.

  "Sorry. I was just looking for a spare pen."

  She shoved one at him.

  "Thank you."

  He walked back to the plant. "I did it."

  "Good job."

  It was a good job. Those two simple words from a man who thought nothing about taking a life made him feel so damn good about himself. For the first time since he'd pulled the comb off his dresser at Hannah's insistence, he'd used his power twice in a row. He was in control — or was he?

  "You're not always going to be here to threaten murder and mayhem to make my ability work." Scott didn't know what else to say. The whole situation was crazy. Who was this guy who threatened the lives of people so easily, and yet made Scott feel as if he had hope?

  "You don't know that. Now you can go to the ED and make sure your brothers are still alive."

  The shaking stopped when Hannah remembered the package in her hand. Her arm ached from clutching the cardboard box for so long. McNamara limped over to his chair and sat down with a sigh.

  "This was not what I had in mind for your first day on the job."

  She didn't reply. All her fear blocked the anger grinding away at her heart. She had no voice. With Scott, she had tried to show her love, but the second he left all she had was her fear and her rage. Both needed an outlet, but here in McNamara's office — the VIP level — wasn't the place. She didn't know where that place was. Nothing about Thunder City gave her the comfort she needed.

  Only Scott could give her what she needed and he seemed really chummy with the Shield. The way they worked together during the attack appeared to her as if they'd trained together for years. Or, maybe that was just Scott's police training and not anything special. She didn't know. She didn't know a lot of things about Scott. Things she wanted to know. She needed more alone time with him.

  McNamara motioned toward the package she kept close to her heart while he hobbled around to his chair. "Care to tell me what that is?"

  "Roger Dane's ashes."

  He looked surprised. She couldn't blame him. No one talked about her most recent stepfather. Everyone wanted to talk about Miranda, but not about Roger. It was as if he didn't exist, and yet, if it weren't for him, Miranda would still be alive, and Hannah would be trapped inside her lab of horrors doing Miranda's bidding. The sad part was, that Hannah wouldn't have thought of herself as a prisoner. She would still be calling Miranda "mom."

  "I'm so sorry, Hannah." McNamara sat down in his chair with a groan.

  Hannah sighed, put the box on McNamara's desk, and slipped off her gloves. "I won't say anything if you won't.”

  McNamara didn't object as she rounded the desk.

  She should have knelt down and placed her hand on the ankle itself, but the idea of kneeling in front of McNamara...the image alone sent a flash of foreboding through her consciousness.

  Her stomach heaved, so she ran from the image before she became sick. He remained still as she placed her hand on the side of his cheek.

  Inside. She had to travel from one of the interosseous veins to the subclavian vein and into the heart. Without stopping, she transferred into the thoracic aorta, rode down until she found the femoral artery. She had no idea what part of his ankle was injured, so she guessed and transferred into the anterior tibial artery for the last leg of her journey. Any other day she'd grin at her own pun, but it barely registered as she stopped at the calcaneo figural ligament.

  The ligament had quite a large tear. McNamara must have turned his ankle while tackling her after the bomb explod
ed. Either way, healing the ligament would require a lot of stitching. For her it felt like half an hour, but if she guessed it only took half a minute on the outside. She repaired a few smaller tears in the other ligaments, then inspected the talus and calcaneus. Both looked fine. It took a little more work to disperse the histamine in the nearby capillaries so they would stop dilating and leaking plasma. She decided to leave the phagocytes alone to munch on the dead cells. Once she had absorbed the extra plasma, the swelling disappeared and she was done.

  The reverse journey back to her body seemed to take less time than getting to the injury itself. A moment later she stepped away from McNamara.

  "You are extraordinary." The reverence in his voice might have made her blush yesterday. Today, she didn't want to be extraordinary. She just wanted to be free.

  "You're going to be busy regardless if any of the cadavers survived the attack intact," she said. "Thunder City is going to want to investigate. Star Haven will want an explanation too. Either way, you'll be on your feet a lot. It'll be easier to manage the investigators on two feet instead of one."

  McNamara must have realized he was staring at her because he shifted his chair to face his computer, waking up the screen so he could type. "I applaud your attitude. You will make a fine doctor someday, Hannah. I'm very proud to be your mentor."

  Such simple words, yet they cut her inner pain in half. If only everyone talked to her the way McNamara did. "I wish I could feel some pride. Right now — "

  "Right now, what?" His fingers paused on the keyboard. She had his full attention again. Her despair receded even further.

  "Right now, I'll settle for comfort. I'd prefer love, satisfaction, and happiness, but comfort will suffice."

  His eyes narrowed, his look knowing, as if he read her mind. "You're thinking of Scott."

  Was she? She guessed she was because until she met McNamara, Scott was the only person who made her feel special and not in the oh, your powers are so cool show us how they work sort of way. "Why wouldn't I? I love him. He gives me the comfort that I need." Yet, thoughts about their tiff yesterday threatened to destroy the hope she'd clung to whenever she thought of Scott. "Most of the time," she added before she could stop herself.