Barcode: Legend of Apollo (26 page)

Oh. Crap. Now I see it.

Michelle has dug her legs into the wall, and she’s created an all black automatic weapon with barrels larger than her body. The cannon has webs, which resemble the black goo from the dungeon, stuck into the stone and it’s providing her with a seat. I assume it will absorb the pressure from whatever nuclear destruction she’s prepared to fire.

Hannah slams a newly transmuted weapon into the ground that may have similar power, but she looks outgunned.

Dennis curses under his breath before throwing me. I roll and flip onto my feet. Michelle releases one shot that sounds like an explosion. Dennis is caught in the shock wave and his body rolls at my heels. The bullet splits and launches more ammunition. Her one shot sounds like a war zone. Even worse, she releases three.

Hannah manually fires at each bullet targeting her body. The strays zip into the first row, causing a few bits to fly from the wall.

This is going to cause problems for both women. Like all weapons, guns draw their energy from the user’s tattoos. The user’s energy suffers every time ammunition is fired or transmuted. Bullets were once made of steel, but since the experimentation with barcodes, they’ve had to evolve. Now, guns fire data that is taken from their surroundings.

The smog in the air and the dirt on the ground are transmuted so that it’s impossible to tell what is being fired from the gun. With this exchange of gunfire, either woman could pass out from the pressure.

Michelle’s attacks force Hannah to play defense, and she does an excellent job at it. She never misses a single bullet, though several lightly graze her skin. They’re only flesh wounds that I assume she purposely allowed to pass in order to focus on the more threatening shots.

Eventually, the scars affect Hannah enough to break her concentration. Michelle responds by powerfully kicking off the wall. They both leave their guns in place in order to spare energy.

Hannah backs away too slowly from her weapon. While she stumbles, Michelle trips her best friend and kicks her in the gut. Hannah gasps and screams at the same time. The wheezing sound frightens Michelle enough to back off. She waits for Hannah to recover before rushing in again.

The two get into a boxing match before withdrawing to regain their strength. The women carry on a wordless conversation, and Michelle doesn’t seem too happy with the topic.

Hannah’s already envisioning the win. It’s written across her brow. A punching war with her snakes means defeat for Michelle’s weaker arms.

After a minute of silence, Hannah takes off in her organized fashion again. I watch slowly as her eyes search for another diversion to close the gap between the two.

Michelle doesn’t allow her to get far. Her legs glow a split second before she uses the power in her own barcode to kick off the ground. I’m overwhelmed with the same pink flash I experienced in Hayley’s kitchen.

Even with my rapid perception, it seems as though Michelle disappears into a dark pile of smoke and reappears right in front of Hannah. Before the kick connects with her collarbone, I assume Hannah’s career as a gladiator will end here. Luckily, she doesn’t deliver her full power. Michelle removes the light from her tattoo.

The crowd goes berserk.

Dennis and I run over to Hannah, who screams in pain on the ground. The emergency response team rushes to the field.

From the corner of my eye, I see Michelle. She watches motionlessly as I help Hannah onto the stretcher. The moment my eyes connect with hers, she dashes from the field.

Twenty Seven

“You don’t love me do you?” She watches me struggle with an answer. “Relax Spencer. I ask confidently, but I already know the answer.”

“Should I?”

There is an awkward silence. We are both stunned by my response. I can’t look Hannah in the eye.

I lean back in my wobbling gray chair. The memory foam makes love to my spine, but smells like old man and cigarette smoke. Who the hell smokes inside of a hospital? Dennis really needs to stop trusting these cameras.

I walk my fingers across the armrest, trying to think of words I can say to help her recover from my brutal response.

Hannah breaks the tension first.

“Damn. That hurt.” Her voice is weak. I fumble in my attempt to respond, but nothing really comes out. “You don’t even love me as a friend?”

“I don’t really know you.” Hannah squeezes her eyes as she clenches her fist. Even against the pain she must feel in her neck, she turns away from me and stares at the closed door. “I want to. I think you’re beautiful, and I’ve wanted to date you forever.”

“Geez Spencer. You know exactly what a girl wants to hear.” Even I’m not lame enough to miss the sarcasm in her tone.

“It’s not like I can lie. The nurse told you to leave your barcodes on.” Hannah grits her teeth and practically snaps her neck to glare at me.

I almost tell her that she’s moving too much for her injury, but she stares with such an endearing expression I can hardly move my lips. Her eyes scan my entire body, but look deeply into my eyes at the same time. I’ve only known one person that could do that, and I consider him more of a father than Dennis.

I can’t take having her eyes judge me. My heart feels as though it will explode under her scrutiny. “What?” I snarl.

“My tattoos can’t tell if you’re lying or not. It reads auras. Every code is different. It’s kind of weird yours is so similar to Michelle’s. How invasive.”

“Only Meesh and I can do that?”

“Meesh? You’re really calling her that now?”

I ignore her question, “Well, I don’t want to lie anyway. I tried building a relationship with you last year, but once our first semester finals were over, you wouldn’t even come near me.”

“I did! You went completely emo after throwing that fight. Everyone was pissed, and I don’t blame them. You could easily beat anyone at the academy, but instead of trying, you had your dad rig a fight. You couldn’t even do that right. I tried talking to you about it, but you wouldn’t open up for anything.”

“Don’t act like you know me. I didn’t ask him to fix the fight. He did it on his own. So, screw how everyone feels about it. I was trying to prove a point.” I stand in anger and feel my face turn cold. I yell through the strange sensation, “And you didn’t want to talk to me, you wanted to talk about me. We never speak unless it’s about school or me. Why don’t you talk about yourself?”

Hannah stumbles over her own words for a second, but she makes a stronger recovery than I assumed she would. “I don’t like talking about me because my life’s garbage. I’d rather learn about you.”

The force behind Hannah’s words increases the pain in her collarbone. Shifting too much could only worsen the injury.

“That’s not fair.”

“Why not?”

“Maybe I want to know about you too.”

“Like what? Just ask!”

“Like your parents. What are they like? Where are you from? I’d like to know something. What’s that scar on your stomach?”

“Stop staring at my body. I’m not wearing anything.” She tries to look down at her torso, but can’t move her neck in that direction.

“The nurse dyed the honey black so I can’t see through.” That’s partially a lie.

Because her injury involves a broken bone, Hannah was placed in a special type of pool that has more concentrated chemicals. It’s only a foot deep and her breast are kind of large. The nurse gave me a strange stare and shrugged her shoulders before leaving. The pharmaceutical honey’s still behaving like a
very
thin layer of clothing. Plus, there are other chemicals mixed in that makes seeing more difficult.

“But you can still see the scar!”

“Actually, I sense it.”

“Meaning you can sense me naked?”

This argument is going nowhere. Hanging my head, I look out of the hospital window at the street. Several men unload large blocks of clay from pickup trucks. The arena’s walls are near impossible to break, so we don’t have the materials on the premises to fix them.

Hannah whispers, “I don’t want to talk about any of those things.”

“Then, don’t ask me to love you.”

She pouts and sniffles, “There’s a dark aura surrounding your face. I didn’t think you hated me that much.”

“I don’t hate you at all. You’re drop dead gorgeous and hilarious. If you weren’t distant and mysterious, maybe I would love you. Not that I know how.”

Her eyebrow twitches, “You should see someone about your face.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not! Just find a liminal being and they’ll tell you. It’s demonic.” The pain’s obviously getting worse, and the seriousness behind her tone concerns me. Maybe I’ll have to speak with Talib.

“Okay. I should go. Arguing with me is obviously causing more damage to your broken collarbone.”

“I have a few more minutes. Sit.” Hannah’s eyes shift up to my twitching eyebrows. “Just ask. See, you never ask the right questions. Only the ones with scars.”

“What do you mean a few minutes?”

“My bones heal really quickly because of a surgery I had.”

“Why did you need the surgery?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Just tell me everything I’m permitted to know before I rip my damn hair out.”

“I got into video games three years ago when I heard you liked them. Stupid thing. I’m only good at racing so I spend more time pulling my fists from screens than playing, but I love it. I can’t cry for some reason. I have a sick and twisted sense of humor that I got from my parents. Don’t ask about
them
. I hate ice cream. I love chocolate. Michelle’s my best friend. I think we’re both fighting over a boy that’s too stupid to notice. I hate boys, but you’re okay. Reading’s nice. Drawing’s better. I sometimes contemplate suicide, but that’s a part of my strange humor. I love gore—thank The Writer I’m a gladiator. I’ve killed over one hundred men. Don’t ask. I was taught how to enter Hades; funny story. And the best time in my life was when I thought you were in love with me, but it’s kind of all depressing now.”

“You want to take a breath between any of that?”

Hannah giggles, “I can hold my breath for ten minutes. Also a part of the surgery.”

“Don’t ask.”

“Exac—” Hannah screams in pain. A shock wave covers the room.

“Now it’s time to leave Spencer,” she mutters before releasing a screech between her teeth.

“Are you sure?”

“Get out!”

My ears ring all the way home from her last words. Sure, things aren’t resolved between us, but I don’t ever remember leaving an argument with Hayley feeling accomplished. Even when Michelle and I fuss, it’s not as if we actually make up at the end. I could simply attribute it to their womanhood, but even I know that I’m the common factor.

The brilliantly smokey layer of dust particles and the perfume of pollutants dance through my eyes and nose. Los Angeles smog has gotten to the point where we count ourselves fortunate if the moon shows itself at night. The sky remains invisible, even with the filters surrounding Griffith Park.

I’ve developed a very disappointing habit of trying to find the moon. I never understood why Yukio stargazed so much, until I visited Dubai. I guess that’s what happens when you’re in hell for too long; you continue longing for heaven.

As I walk home, I notice a shadow on the top of our skyscraper. Automatically, my mind detects a threat and my eyes zoom in on the speck. Wicked binocular vision. I wonder if Leo even knows all the things this suit can do.

Speaking of the genius, my eyes can see Leo nearly a quarter mile up. He’s standing with his arms spread wide as though he were considering jumping.

I dash to the utility belt at the back of the structure. It’s blazing fast and stops at the very top of the building. Though it was created for painting and repairing, I use it for sneaking in whenever Dennis is on the first floor.

The elevator rattles disturbingly and my heart matches its every beat. My guts shake with each terrifying clank. I’d normally enjoy the death-defying thrill and the air whipping into my face, but I’m not sure if Leo will be in 3D or 2D when I make it to the top.

Once the elevator slams into its apex, I steam towards the suicidal nerd, shouting his name. But it’s too late. I watch as he falls backwards, crying and scared.

I’m not sure, but he seems close enough to reach. I shoot my chains out and wrap two around his waist. His falling pulls me back initially, but I fight to stabilize myself. I know he’s safe when I hear a thud against the building.

When I pull Leo up, he shouts, “You almost killed me!”

“I almost killed you? You jumped!”

Leo’s eyes refuse to connect with mine, and his behavior seems belligerent. He fights furiously to loosen the chains.

“Let me go!”

“Why were you trying to kill yourself?”

In tears he cries, “I wasn’t.”

For a second, the bangs on Leo’s forehead rise high enough for me to see his barcode for the first time. I had always imagined he had one of Zeus’ lightning bolts on his back or chest, but it seems he has two bullhorns. When deactivated, his eyebrows seem to split at the end. But with each one shining a bloody red, it’s easy to see that his tattoo powers his brain.

“What’s in the air? Damn. Everyone’s pissed at me.”

“I’m not,” Leo stops, though he’s obviously not finished with his sentence. He lets out a small growl. It would probably sound ferocious coming from Kode, but Leo’s anger just makes you feel sorry for him. “I probably wasn’t even going to jump Spencer.”

“I watched you fall back. What do you mean ‘probably’?”

Leo punches my chain. He surreptitiously rubs his fist, not wanting me to notice his pain. “I always come here and stand at the edge, okay? But you!” He’s yelling at me now. “You startled me and I flew back. Not to mention you almost slammed me through a window.”

“Better than you slamming into the ground.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He looks away again. He goes from Gothic bully to shy kid every few seconds. I’d swear Leo has two personalities. I consider the fact that Antonio could actually be his alter ego and he made up the whole story about them being friends.