The woman
had said that it was 2032, and though he wanted to deny her words, there were
too many things not making any sense right then.
One of
those things was his own spotty memory.
He knew what year he thought
it was, but if the woman was correct, he had lost 20 years. That would make him almost sixty years old,
but he definitely didn’t feel as if he were any older than the thirty-eight
years he knew he had.
He looked
down at his own chiseled arms, chest, and abs, and knew that he didn’t look
like he was nearly sixty years old either.
His
memories told him his age, but there were missing things that worried him, one
of those being his name. How could he
know his age but not his name? Or the
names of his family members? Did he have
a family? If he did, were they still
alive now?
He closed
his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the van. He could tell by how the van was swaying that
they were moving at a high rate of speed, but the other woman was driving with
such skill that he wasn’t being tossed around much at all. He was grateful for the seatbelt though, and
thinking about the belt made him think about the woman who had buckled him into
the seat.
She was
startling, with her large green eyes, flowing black curls, and her caramel skin
tone. But even more startling was her
presence. She held herself like someone
with authority, reminding him of his former brigadier general.
He frowned at the memory of the
man, whose face he could see in his mind, but whose name was eluding him. He tried to focus on the image of the man’s
face, but it was like a fading photo, fuzzy around the edges. The harder he thought about it, the blurrier
the image became and he started to notice a sharp pain ebbing in his head.
He released the fuzzy memory with
an audible groan. He should be glad that
he was having any memories at all, but the desire to know who he was, and why
he was here made him impatient to remember more.
He opened his eyes and looked
towards the front of the van to find the woman watching him with concern in her
eyes. Neither said anything as they
stared at each other in silence. After a
few moments she seemed satisfied that he was alright and faced forward
again.
He continued to watch her for a few
more minutes before he again closed his eyes and rested back against the
van. Maybe if he sat there quietly and
thought about nothing, something would come to him. It wasn’t likely to work, but it was all he
could think of to try.
Des had heard him groan and had
immediately turned to see if he was in distress. She could see a frown on his face but his
eyes were closed. She had started to
unbuckle her belt and go back to him when his eyes had opened and found hers in
the darkened van.
She had been glad they were still a
light shade of brown and not that steely silver that boded nothing but trouble,
but she had watched him for a bit longer until she was satisfied that he was
alright.
Or, as alright as a half-naked
cyborg who thought it was 2012 and who had tried to kill her could be.
Des stared vacantly through the
front windshield, trusting Esme to get them back to the club in on piece. They needed to get back and get the “weapon”
hidden before the transporter arrived at the station without its cargo.
But how was she going to hide
someone of his size? He would stand out
in Four Crossings due to his sheer size alone.
If he went out in public he was going to attract a lot of attention.
The government had eyes and ears
everywhere, and the minute they realized their weapon was AWOL, they were going
to be looking for him. The odds of them
not knowing what he looked like were slim to none. And if by some miracle they did not know what
he looked like, a man of his size was sure to be the number one candidate,
especially if he said anything about it being 2012.
Des had just started to think that
at least they would have time before anyone came looking for him when an alarm
began to beep in the van.
“Shit!” Esme reached up to turn the alarm off and
then looked at her sister.
“They’re either radar sweeping or
setting up a road block. Either way,
we’ll have the government on our asses in less than ten.”
Des narrowed her eyes and then
glanced back at the man who was now watching both women with a question on his
face.
“Can we run to Moan and beat them
there?”
Esme flipped on her onboard radar
system and immediately shook her head.
“This is looking more and more like
an Arguletti set up. There are at least
twenty government trucks converging on us right now.”
Des grunted at her sister’s
words. Arguletti was a dead man when she
next saw him.
“Hidey-Hole?” Esme’s suggestion was likely their only
choice. But they had never tried to hide
someone the size of this man at one of their transfer stations.
Des nodded reluctantly. “If you think you can make it.”
Esme smiled. “Oh, I’ll make it. But you’d better go back
there with the big guy and let him know what’s up.”
Des nodded again and then unhooked
her belt so she could climb into the back of the van.
The man seemed to sit up straighter
as he saw her coming.
“Something’s wrong.”
Des nodded as she dropped into a
crouch next to him.
“Yeah, we’ve got someone who’s
going to try to stop us from getting to safety, so we’re going to have to take
a slight detour.”
She tried to smile but knew that
her effort fell short. He studied her
face closely before he finally spoke again.
“Am I placing you in danger?”
Des shook her head quickly. “No. I
placed myself in danger and in turn, I placed you in danger. Now I have to make sure that you’re safe.”
Des could see the frown forming on
his face at her words and almost smiled at how ludicrous the situation truly
was. The man could easily snap her in
two, and had tried to less than an hour earlier. Now here she was protecting him.
He started to say something but Des
held a hand up to forestall him.
“We can talk later when we get to
the safe house. We’re going to need to
hit the ground running as soon as Esme stops the van. Do you think you can keep up with me without
shoes?”
The man looked like he wanted to
push the issue and ask the question on the tip of his tongue, but after a
moment’s hesitation he gave her a short nod.
Des rewarded him with a brilliant
smile that immediately made him catch his breath. She truly had a radiant smile that lit up her
whole face. If he had thought her
striking before, he now knew her to be truly beautiful.
She started to say something but
stopped when her sister brought the van to a shuddering halt. The motion was so sudden that she was thrown
violently to the side and was only saved from flying across the van by his arm
coming out to catch her.
The motion was a blur and Des
doubted she would have seen him if she hadn’t been staring at him
directly. As it was she only caught the
motion out of the side of her eye in the same instant that she felt his strong
arm clamp around her waist and pull her back towards him.
She freed herself quickly and
scrambled to her feet, shooting a glance towards her sister in the front of the
van.
“A little warning next time, E!”
Esme turned around with a frown on
her face.
“No time. You have to get moving. I can’t get you any closer without driving
right into one of their radar traps.
You’ll have to hoof it a bit farther than normal.”
Des caught and held her sister’s
gaze for a long breath before she turned to the man and quickly undid his
harness.
“Run where I run, and stay on the
path. There are traps set along the way
that I don’t want you to step in.”
She didn’t give him time to
respond, turning and heading to the back of the van. She threw the doors open and jumped
down. Glancing back at him, she gestured
for him to follow with her head before she disappeared into the darkness.
He moved quickly to follow her, jumping
down from the van and rounding the corner to find her looking up and down the
road as if she expected to see something or someone. Noticing him, she gave her sister one last
look before she turned left and edged into the underbrush.
He glanced at the woman driving the
van too and noticed her running her hands through her hair. He wanted to stay and watch her to see what
she would do. Why was she staying behind
while they went to a safe house?
But he knew if he hesitated too
long he might lose the woman he was to follow.
At that thought he felt something click inside of his mind and a hazy
film seemed to slide down over his eyes.
He didn’t know what he was feeling or seeing, but he realized right away
that he could now see as clearly as if it were daylight outside.
He turned towards where the woman
had gone and was able to see the impressions of her footprints in the hard
earth. A part of him knew that he wasn’t
seeing actual impressions and was likely seeing some sort of residual heat
signature, but he didn’t have time to think about it.
Filing that information away, he
bolted after the woman, following her footsteps deeper into an area he could
only call a swamp.
Des didn’t bother to look back to
see where the man was. Somehow she knew
he was behind her. It was like she could
feel his presence, the heavy thudding of his footsteps as he thundered after
her.
She hoped he took direction well,
as she hadn’t been kidding about the traps set along the sides of the path they
were taking. She knew about them because
she and Esme had set them. Anyone
unfamiliar with the area would never see most of them until it was too late.
Someone familiar with the area
would see most of them but not realize the danger. That was the beauty of using nature to help
you set defensive traps.
Des knew that they had at least two
miles to cover from the point where Esme had been forced to let them out. She usually tried to reach the top trail, as
they called it, where it was less than a mile to the safe house. But with the government converging, they had
been forced to go with the less attractive bottom trail.
The path was so narrow in some
places that the overhanging trees gave the impression that the path disappeared
completely. You could squeeze through
them but the branches and leaves would do their best to mark you as you passed.
Des didn’t try to move stealthily
on this night. Speed was more important
than silence and they needed to make sure they were out of sight before the
drones were sent out. Thinking of the
drones, Des glanced up out of reflex as if to see if they were already out.
Seeing nothing, but feeling as if
time were running out, she increased her pace, dodging low branches with the
practiced ease of someone who had used this path a number of times. Normally she wouldn’t have moved this quickly
when she had someone with her, but she had a feeling that the man would be able
to keep up with her easily.
Breathing heavily she burst through
one final gauntlet of trees and slowed to a stop in a small clearing. Before she could even catch her breath the
man was beside her and to her disgust, not breathing anywhere near as heavily
as she was.
He stood in the clearing silently
looking around and obviously trying to figure out why they were stopping.
She answered his unspoken question.
“We’re here.”
He did another quick turn around
and then gave her a confused look.
She smiled slightly and pointed
towards what looked like more of the forest.
“We go in through there.”
Sucking in
one last large breath, Des approached the trees and then dropped to all fours
and began to crawl underneath into the darkness. She came through quickly onto the other side
and stood up in a dark space with no lights to guide her.
She moved
by memory, crossing over to a brick wall that she knew was there. She heard the man enter the space but
continued towards the wall. She placed
her palms against the cool bricks and slowly began moving them around in
circles. She was looking for a specific
mark on the bricks that would tell her where she was.
After a few
seconds her right hand found the mark and she was able to orient herself to
where the lever to open the hidden door would be. Even with knowing the starting point, she
would have to move carefully to locate the lever.
Inching her
hands to the right she started counting bricks.
She heard the man moving to come near her and her concentration
broke. She sighed at herself and moved
back to the left to relocate the dimple.
Starting
over, she moved to her right and continued to count the bricks. When she had found the brick she wanted, she
inched her way downwards towards the floor.
She had just reach the next indicator when the man spoke behind her.
“What are
you looking for?”
Des was
surprised that he could tell she was looking for something considering how dark
it was in the space. Not willing to take
her mind off of her task she answered him absent-mindedly.
“There’s
hidden lever on this wall. I need to
find it so that I can open the door.”
She went
back to her counting and had just reached her next marker when the man brushed
up next to her, took her hand and moved it to a point on the wall.
“Is that
it?”
Des stood
there in shocked silence as she felt her hand make contact with the lever. She turned to ask him how he had known where
the lever was but was brought up short by the silver sheen over his eyes.
It wasn’t quite the same as the
steely silver look she had seen him have before. This time she could actually
see his irises beneath the silver. But it
was still unnerving to see the glow of his eyes in the dark space.
Wanting to move away from him in
case he was heading towards a meltdown, she pulled the lever quickly and felt
the wall swing inwards away from them.
She stepped
into the front room of the hidden house and immediately switched on a light. She turned back to the man and sought his
eyes.
The silver sheen was gone and she wondered
if it was because she had turned on a light.
Was the silver sheen some sort of night vision for his eyes? Her hand went to the light switch again as if
she were going to switch it off again, but she stopped inches from contact.
She could just ask him about his
eyes, rather than playing games with the lighting. She could also get them settled first.
Des sighed and gestured to the man.
“Why don’t you have a seat over
there on the couch? I’m going to see if
we have anything here that will fit you.”
The man moved to the couch without
asking any questions or complaining. Des
watched until he sat down before she left the room and headed back into the
back of the house.
She seriously doubted that there
was going to be much to choose from, but she would at least likely find him a
shirt to wear. She smiled slightly to
herself as she navigated the hallways.
It wouldn’t be too disappointing if she couldn’t find him a shirt,
though.
The couch he sat on wasn’t very
comfortable, but the woman had asked him to sit there, so he had. He could hear her in the rear of the house
sliding drawers open and closed. He
wondered at his ability to hear her so well and added it to his list of things
to figure out, along with his ability to see so clearly at night.
He wondered if those answers would
be easier to come by than pieces of information he was missing, like his name.
He frowned again as he tried to
search his mind for that one simple piece of information. What was his name? Who was he? And why had he been on that transporter.
So engrossed in his thoughts he
didn’t hear the woman return to the front room until her voice finally
penetrated his fog. Her hands were full
of what looked like camouflage gear and she was looking at the clothing rather
than him as she crossed the room.
“I’m not sure which of these shirts
will fit but I’m betting on the black one.
As for the pants, we may have to just cut the legs out and go with
shorts – I don’t think they’ll be long enough for you.”
She finally looked up at him when
she was in arms reach and froze in her tracks.
She was staring at his face intently and he wondered what she saw. Was there something wrong with his face that
he didn’t know about? Considering he
didn’t even know what he looked like, it would be a bit of a blow to find out
that he had some sort of deformity.
She took another step towards him
and then handed him the clothes.
“Put these on. I’ll be right back.” She turned smartly on her heels and returned
to the back of the house.
The man shook the pile of clothing
out and remembering what she said, decided to try on the black shirt first.
It was definitely a tight fit but
he was able to get the shirt over his head, and the arm holes even accommodate
his massive biceps.
He looked at the camo pants and saw
the same thing she must have seen – the pants would fit his waist but the
length would be way too short. Grasping
one of the legs at the bottom, he pulled until the seam split to where the knee
would be. He did the same to the other
leg and then moved quickly to drop the cloth he wore and slide the pants into
place.
The pants hit him on his upper
calves, which bulged through the openings he had made when he ripped the
seams. It wasn’t the most comfortable
outfit he had ever worn, but it was better than running around with nothing but
a cloth wrapped around his waist.
He had just returned to the couch
when she came back in the room with what looked like a first-aid kit in her
hands, and another bundle under her arms.
She stopped short when she saw him
sitting there, and her lips quirked up on one side.
He glanced down at his outfit and
then back at her and couldn’t help the small smile that touched his lips.
He shrugged slightly. “They don’t quite fit, do they?”
Des shook her head and took the
last few steps to stand in front of him on the couch.
“No, they don’t quite fit. But,” she dropped the bundle into his lap and
set the kit on the couch beside him, “it’s better than nothing. And we’ll find you something that fits
later.”
He nodded at her and then looked at
the bundle in his lap. “What’s this?”
Des sat down on the empty coffee
table across from him and gestured towards the bundle. “Socks, another shirt, and it’s wrapped in a
sweatshirt that will likely be a bit too tight as well, but it’s too cold for
you not to have something.
He started to tell her that he
didn’t feel the cold, but kept the information to himself. Instead he unrolled the bundle to pull out
the socks. Though he wasn’t cold, it
would be nice to have something on his feet since he didn’t have any shoes.
He moved to pull the socks apart
but she stopped him.
“Not yet. I need to treat your feet first.”
He looked at her in confusion and
then looked down at his feet. He didn’t
see anything on the tops of his feet but when he lifted his left one, he
noticed the blood that smeared along the arch.
He poked the area with his thumb and didn’t notice any pain but there
was clearly a gash there.
He put his foot back down and
looked at her in surprise.
“How’d you know I had cut my feet?”
She shrugged slightly before she
pointed behind her. “You left a trail on
the floor.”
He followed her arm and noticed the
bloody footprints that came directly to where he now sat on the couch.
“Sorry about that.”
She waved away the apology. “Don’t worry about it, the floor will come
clean. But we need to clean up those
cuts so that you don’t pick up an infection.”
Des gestured with both hands for
him to give her his foot. He looked a
little uncomfortable at first but finally lifted his leg and put his foot into
her hands.
Des assessed the bloody, muddy mess
and was glad to see that most of the cuts were superficial and did not seem to
cause him any discomfort. She reached
over and grabbed the first aid kit, and pulled out a large bottle of saline,
some gauze pads, band-aids, and anti-bacterial ointment.
She saw him looking at the saline
so she turned the bottle’s label towards him.
“To clean the dirt and blood off.’
He nodded and since he didn’t seem
to have any other questions, Des concentrated on the task at hand.
The mud came away fairly easily but
the blood continued to flow from a few of the gashes. Des concentrated on the cuts nearest his toes
first and slowly worked her way down, cleaning and covering the larger gashes
with gauze and some of the smaller ones with band-aids.
He had large feet and it took Des a
good fifteen minutes to finish the first one.
She stole glances at him periodically as she cleaned, checking to see if
he had any reactions to her poking and prodding.
She always found him watching her
with an impassive expression on his face, and no indication that her
ministrations affected him at all.
When she finished with his right
foot she started to put it down but hesitated.
“I think you’d better put the sock
on before we put your foot back on the floor.”
He nodded, shook the socks out and
levered his right foot into one before he put it back on the floor. Then he lifted his left foot into her lap
without her having to ask.
Des fought another smile as she
thought again of how much he reminded her of one of her lost children. They never complained either, and settled
into an ease with Des and Esme that they did not often have with anyone else.
This man seemed to be settling into
an ease with her that definitely made her job easier as she tried to mend his
wounds. And, she thought wryly, he
wasn’t trying to kill her anymore.
She ministered to his left foot in
the same manner as the right, but much more quickly as that foot seemed to have
suffered less damage.
When she dipped back into the first
aid kit for an alcohol swab she could see the confusion on his face.
Des tried to give him a reassuring
smile. “I need to treat your face, too.”
He reached a hand up to touch his
cheek, “My face? I have cuts on it too?”
Des grimaced slightly. “Sort of.
You have a few scratches on both cheeks from my fingernails.”
His hand moved but he couldn’t seem
to feel the scratches she could see.
Des held up the alcohol swab. “They aren’t deep and they didn’t bleed, but
I really think I should clean them out.”
She expected him to hesitate at the
idea of the alcohol swab but again he simply nodded and dropped his hand so
that she could access the scratches on his cheek.
Des stood up to better reach his
face and found she liked it better when she could tower over him for once. But even sitting down, there was no denying
the sheer size of the man.
Des made short work of washing the
scratches on his face, again marveling at the fact that he didn’t even flinch
at the sting she knew he must have felt.
Feeling as if she had done all she
could, Des picked up the trash and the kit and took them out of the room. She could feel his eyes on her back as she
left the room and she wondered what he was thinking.
She knew what she was thinking. Where had this man come from? She shook her head as she started back in the
room to face him. That wasn’t the real
question – the real question was, how in the hell was she going to figure out
how to use this man to her advantage?
Because though she didn’t know exactly who he was or what he could do,
she had no doubt that he signified a change in the power structure within Four
Crossings. And whoever controlled him
would control the city.
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