Exposing ELE (ELE Series #3) (10 page)

We watch a guard walk past the chain link fence. They've been walking back and forth every five minutes, almost on the dot. We wait thirty seconds and then make our move. I grab Tony's hand and turn us invisible. We run full speed towards the gate. I quickly move us through the cold metal.

This time we know where we will land when we get into the prison. We move to the brick wall and I pull Tony through it as quickly as possible. I gasp on the other side when I find the room that we enter into completely empty.

“Where are they?” I ask Tony.

“Who?” He looks around the empty, concrete-walled room.

I forgot that Tony wasn't with us when we first entered the prison. “This is where they were keeping a lot of the others; the one's that didn't have that reaction on the tests.”

Tony visibly shivers. “They must have moved them.”

“I hope that's the case and not something worse.” Our people need to find a way to rescue those prisoners soon. If there are any prisoners left to rescue that is. Ice shivers run down my spine and I fight back the thought.

“Let's keep moving.” Tony pulls me towards the door.

I walk us through to the other side, finding the hallway empty. We walk quickly down the cellblock. The jail cell, where I placed the guard I knocked out, is empty. I wonder how long it took them to find him.

We walk to the next set of doors and I pull Tony through. Thankfully, no guards are walking down this hall either. It seems eerily deserted.

We check each window, looking for Dr. Hastings or Zack, who are nowhere to be found as of yet. This time when we walk through the steel doors, we run straight through the hall of curtains to the other side. The bulb that flickered creepily last time has finally given up and the entire room is dark except for the minimal light coming in through the windows near the ceiling. My stomach rolls sickly as I remember the small, curtained room with blood splatters all over it.

We go through the next two sets of doors as quietly as possible, knowing what's on the other side. As we step through the final door, we are plunged into darkness. A lone light shines at the far end of the room in an office. The cubicles and break room are empty and deathly quiet.

“Where are all of the people?” I wonder in my head.

Thinking I was asking him the question, Tony answers, “It's late, maybe they are off for the night.” He gestures his head towards the end of the giant room where the single light is on. “Someone might be pulling an all-nighter though. We need to be careful.”

I nod my head and we start walking towards the light. When we round the last cubicle, we see the small corner office where the light shines. We crouch down low trying to get a peek inside the doorway. It doesn't look like anyone is home. We stand back up and hear a muffled cough and then furious typing on a keyboard.

I inch closer to the doorway and peek around the corner before Tony can pull me back. My heart jumps.

“Breaking the rules!” Tony demands.

I focus on breathing. “Dr. Hastings is in there... Alone.”

Tony's expression turns from serious to angry. “We may not get an opportunity like this again.” I watch him use his free hand to pull the gun out.

I pull mine out as well. My hand is shaking. “I agree.” Will I be able to kill him though? That's the main question.

“You don't have to do this. You can stand here. I can take him out and you don't have to raise a hand.” He urges me with his eyes to let him do this.

“No! I need to do this myself.” I take a deep breath.

“Let's stay invisible though. He doesn't need to see us coming. We don't want him to sound any alarms.” Tony holds his gun out and grabs the crook of my elbow, knowing I need both hands to aim my gun.

I straighten up and step out slowly into the doorway. I raise my gun and line my sights on the back of Dr. Hastings’s head. He doesn't know I'm here. I could do away with him with a slight pull of my index finger. My hand starts shaking and my chest tightens. Something dark starts filling me. A part of me wants to let the darkness fill me to the brim. Another part wants to fight it off. I slowly lower my pistol but Hastings scratches the back of his head and I raise it back up. “I don't know if I can do it.” I keep my pistol trained on his grey hair.

“Let me.” Tony raises his gun.

“Only a coward would shoot a person in their back.” Dr. Hastings slowly turns around. His blue eyes land on me. The same eyes his daughter has.

My eyes widen in surprise and I'm not sure what to do. I keep my gun pointed at his head. He didn't have blue eyes yesterday.

“Yes, I figured I needed this gift if I were going to have any advantage around you.” Dr. Hastings answers my unspoken question.

Tony lets go of my arm and I let go of the invisibility since it does us no good here.

“So, are you going to say hi or anything? Or are you just going to kill me in cold blood?” Hastings asks.

“Hands above your head,” Tony demands.

Dr. Hastings slowly raises his hands up and places them on the back of his head. He leans back looking way too comfortable in a situation like this.

I finally find my voice and answer his earlier question. “I'm not killing you in cold blood. An eye for an eye, Doctor.”

The fact that he has the nerve to actually laugh makes the prospect of shooting him seem all the more appealing. “Your mother killed herself, Willow. That wouldn't be an eye for an eye.”

Anger flashes inside me like lightning. “No! You killed her! You and your son killed her. You held that shot to her neck.”

“Yes, but we didn't have any intention of killing either of your parents. We only wanted a simple pint of blood from you. It was an empty threat.” He tries to soften his expression but I don't buy it.

“If it was an empty threat then there wouldn't have been anything deadly in that shot.” I'm not stupid enough for him to manipulate me with doubts.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I'm truly sorry that your mom died. I had no idea she would have reacted in such a way.”

I narrow my eyes. “You aren't sorry. You are a horrible excuse for a human being.”

He clucks his tongue. “You don't even know me, Willow. I can help you.”

“Oh yeah! Like you helped seal my friends in a cave? Like you helped try to make me into your own personal lab experiment? Like you killed my mom? Or like you created all of these abilities and basically tested it out on all of us? You don't care who gets hurt. You even killed your own wife!” My voice gradually grows louder as I throw each accusation at him.

“Don't speak of things you don't know about, little girl!” Dr. Hastings throws his hands down on the table loudly. His face turns beet red. I guess I must have pushed the right button.

Tony steps forward with his gun trained on him. “Hands up now!” he demands.

Dr. Hastings gives him a mean look but complies with his demand. It takes him a few seconds but his face goes slack again like he couldn't be concerned with all of this. “You may not think I can help you but I can. You just have to give me a simple pint of blood.”

I don't respond to him because I know he can't do a thing for me.

“I know how to help a person you care deeply for,” he adds.

My eyes widen in shock and my heart starts racing.

“Yes, you know what I mean, don't you?” Dr. Hastings says in his attempt at playful banter.

“What is he talking about, Willow?” Tony asks me.

I shake my head at him. “Nothing. The man is crazy.”

Hastings laughs. I roll my eyes and give him a furious glare. He smiles as he says, “I can undo it, simple as that. For a measly pint of your blood.”

“Enough! You aren't getting anything from her.” Tony turns to me. “Let me do this, Willow.” His fingers inch toward the trigger.

I look from him to Dr. Hastings and then back to Tony. I have no reason to trust that Dr. Hastings can help Tony. I should just kill him, but I realize that I'm not going to be able to. Not with this new possibility that he laid out on the table. “I can't.”

“Then I will.” Tony walks around the desk and points the barrel of the gun at Dr. Hastings's temple. “Say goodnight.”

His eyes narrow and for once he actually looks appropriately scared. He looks at me with a disgusted glare. “You Mosby women are nothing but trouble. I should have killed you when I had the chance. I don't even know what my boy saw in you. If he were here, I'd make him kill you,” he spits.

I don't even pay attention to the part about Zack. I can only focus on his negative indication of my mother. I yell, “My mom did nothing to you!”

“With only a few words that woman started an uprising in here! Promising all of those workers that she would free them.”

Pride wells within me for my mom. I smile and it pisses Dr. Hastings off even more.

“Can I proceed?” Tony asks one last time.

I appreciate that he wants to make sure he doesn't take this right away from me in case I feel like I need to be the one to kill him. “No. Knock him out. We will take him with us and show him what it's like to be a prisoner.”

Tony starts to nod his head but then his body goes rigid and his eyes focus on something behind me. That's when I feel the cold metal of a barrel land on the back of my head.

I don't see the man behind me nor do I recognize his voice when he begins making demands. “Put your gun down now or she dies!”

Tony's expression hardens as he stares the man down. He slowly moves to place the gun on the table but before he does, he asks. “Do you trust me, Willow?”

I don't even have to think about it. “I do.”

“Then duck!” he yells into my head.

Without hesitation, I drop to the ground. In the same instant, Tony raises his gun back up in a flash and shoots the man in the chest. The guard drops to the ground dead.

In my peripheral vision, I watch Dr. Hastings pull a gun out from under his desk. In the second that he aims it at Tony, I raise my gun without hesitation, aim it and shoot. I watch in horror as the doctor's eyes turn vacant. The small red dot on the corner of his forehead looks so harmless. Like a small cut that could be covered with a Band-Aid. I don't realize that I'm not breathing until the dizziness washes over me. I blink two times and then take a deep breath.

Tony moves quickly to my side and takes the gun from my shaking hands. He puts it away and pulls me into him. My whole body is shaking and inside I don't know how I feel. “Dr. Hastings is dead. I killed him.” I keep repeating in my head. “I killed him. I killed him.”

“I know, Willow. You did the right thing. You saved my life.” He holds me tightly and gingerly brushes my hair through his fingers. “We need to get moving. Those shots will certainly draw some attention if anyone is around to hear them. We’re still not sure if Zack's even here, so we should get out while we can.”

I nod my head because my voice is lost. He takes my shaky hand in his and I use the last of my resources to turn us invisible. We move through the walls and away from the prison, the place of my nightmares. By the time we reach the tree line, my body is trembling so heavily that Tony pulls his hand from mine and lifts me into his arms. He begins running in the direction of the safe house.
With the last of my energy, I rise from his arms and ask him, “Please don’t take me to the safe house. I want to go somewhere alone, somewhere with you.” Tony eyes me suspiciously for a moment but nods his head in agreement. I rest my head back on his chest and let myself go.

I wake up wrapped up in a cozy quilt with the fire lit in the fireplace. I have no clue where I’m at but it looks to be some sort of rustic log cabin. I catch a glimpse of Tony out of the corner of my eye. He’s standing over a small gas camping stove, warming a mug that’s begun to steam.

He must sense me waking up because he turns in my direction.
His eyes light up upon seeing me. He makes his way over and hands me the cup, handle first.

I wrap my hands around it, finding comfort in the warmth it provides.
“Thanks,” I say.

Tony perches on the edge of the couch.
I lift my head up and take a drink. “Ramen noodles,” I say excitedly. “Where did you get this? I haven’t been able to get my hands on any of this for years!” I sip the broth, reveling in its flavor. I close my eyes, “Mmm, chicken flavored.”

Tony shakes his head and chuckles.
“This is where I used to live.” He pauses for a moment to let it sink in. “My parents and I liked the quiet and moved to this cabin a few years before ELE. When you asked me to go somewhere else last night, this was the first place to pop into my mind. Anyway, we always tried to keep a few items around that were imperishable. Ramen was a definite option for that reason.” All the while, I’m gulping the broth and loudly slurping the noodles. “And I guess I’m glad I did because apparently, I just made your year!”

I nod my head, taking sip after sip of this glorious liquid.
I get to the bottom of my cup way too soon and hold it out for him… hoping he has more.

“Slow down there, slugger, you’re gonna get sick,” he playfully scolds me.

“Great, now you know my weakness…” I jest playfully. He takes my cup and refills it once more. Again, I gobble it down in less than a minute.

Tony goes over and jabs at the fire, making it spark and crackle.
It feels like I’m a world away in this cabin. Everything seems so… normal. All the loss and heartache I’ve experienced in the past few days has been left outside. But then a cloud comes over my eyes, bringing with it the thunderstorms. I still have to figure out how to help Tony. I haven’t the slightest clue as to how a person transitions into a Reaper… I’ve only heard that it happens within a few days. I just hope my healing ability stalls the inevitable. I make it my mission to make these last days with Tony some of his best. I can’t sit here and feel sorry for him or I’ll miss the opportunity at hand to make him happy. I want that to be the last free memories he has. My mom would have wanted that for him as well. I shift the heartache and memories of the last two days to the far recesses of my mind.

Tony places the poker next to the fire and grabs a book.
“Do you want me to read to you?” he asks me.

I can’t even think how long ago it was that someone read to me.
“Sure,” I say shrugging my shoulders. “Why not.” I set the coffee cup on the table beside me and curl back up into the quilt. Tony moves a large wooden rocking chair over to where I’m at and takes a seat. “So, what are you reading to me?” I ask.

He chuckles. “Alice in Wonderland.
It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too,” I whisper.

Tony gets comfortable in his chair and opens the old, tattered book. He clears his throat and begins, “Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?'”

I snicker when he says Alice’s lines in a girly voice.

“What?” he asks me now that I’ve clearly interrupted him with my giggling. He narrows his eyes at me playfully and looks like he’s going to pounce when all of a sudden his face goes lax.
He stares into the distance, his eyes filled with hollowed emotion.

“Tony,” I say trying to figure out how he can go from all emotion to nothing, so quickly.
I wave my hand in front of his eyes, but still no response.

Suddenly he gets up from the rocking chair and walks into the kitchen, his usual gait absent.
He opens one of the drawers in the kitchen area and pulls out a large butcher knife, leaving the drawer open. He turns robotically towards me, butcher knife in hand.

“Uh, Tony… what are you doing?”
I ask him one last time before I start to panic. Naturally he doesn’t answer and it dawns on me that Tony isn’t in control here… something else is. I scoot back on the couch and crouch with my legs underneath me. Not knowing what I’m battling against I want to be ready for anything. And I have to do it just right or I could injure the Tony that’s buried deep inside.

As Tony comes closer, I look him in the eyes.
I notice a small red swirl, almost like a tornado, circling his iris.

“The shot,” I say breathlessly.
Like a lion about to pounce its prey, I ready myself to move. When Tony is but five feet from me, he begins raising the knife. I move quickly until I’m behind him and immediately grab his hand. His grip is deathly tight. I squeeze his wrist like he taught me and disarm the knife from his grasp. It falls to the ground and I kick it across the room. Then I immediately focus on healing, hoping with all I am that I can heal him again.

It only takes a few seconds before Tony, the real Tony, comes back to me.
I slide off his back landing softly on the wooden floor. He turns to look at me, his face contorted in utter confusion. “What…” he asks, searching for words. “What was that?”

I scratch my head noticing the absence of the red in his eyes.
“Uh, you were giving me a piggy back ride.” I want to hit myself in the forehead for giving such a stupid answer but it was the only thing that came to my mind.

He ponders this for a moment and, surprisingly, he just shrugs his shoulders.

He looks lost in thought so I suggest, “Hey, let’s read more of Alice in Wonderland.”

He still looks perplexed, but he nods and sits back down in the rocking chair picking up the book from the floor.

While he’s busy looking for where to start I walk inconspicuously over to where the knife is on the floor and silently kick it under the couch.
I quickly slide onto the couch and throw the quilt up over my lap. I'm out of breath and sweating a little from the ‘incident’.

Tony reads a few chapters and the entire time I find it hard to focus on the story at hand. I can't help staring at Tony and expecting him to just snap again. What the flip was that? I wonder. Out of all of the reactions I could have expected someone turning into a Reaper to do, I wouldn't have thought of that. I mean, if he's blacking out and going into Reaper mode or whatever, why did he grab a knife? Wouldn't he just try to take my powers with his touch? It doesn't take a knife to do that.

I glance towards the kitchen and can't help but wonder if I should hide the butcher block of knifes sitting on the counter. But, if we’re being honest, he could use anything as a weapon.

“Are you okay, Willow?” Tony asks me.

I shake my head to clear it and look back at Tony. “Yeah... I mean, yes. I think so.” I pride myself on the fact that I didn't bust out and yell, “No, you're turning into a Reaper,” like I wanted to.

He stands up and puts the book away, then comes and sits next to me on the couch. “You just seem a little lost in thought.” He pulls part of the blanket over his legs too. “You know, it's alright for you to admit that you aren't okay. You've been through so much in the past few days, what with losing your mom and then killing Dr. Hastings. That's a whole heck of a lot to sift through.”

I grunt nervously. “Well then, I guess I should be real and admit that I'm all screwed up inside.” My fake smile drops. “You're right, I'm not okay, but I'm working on finding a way to cope. I have to get through this and I'm very thankful to have you here with me right now.” I run my hand through my hair.

“I know you’ll be able to find a way to cope, Willow. You are stronger than you know. I remember when I lost my parents. At first, I was so mad at them for turning into Reapers and trying to turn me into one too. I hated them. I hated them because of their actions; your mom was forced to kill them. I was pretty screwed up inside back then too. Day by day though, things started easing up. I felt a little more like myself as time passed. Things will never be the same, but at least I know that I survived it. I know you will survive this just fine and come out even stronger because of it.” Tony pulls me towards him on the couch and places his arm around me.

I rest my head on his shoulder and sigh. “I hope so. It's interesting the turmoil going on inside me. Part of my brain wants to close my eyes and pretend like nothing ever happened. Another part of me wants to break down and cry forever or to get angry at the world and take my pain out on everything in my path. Yet, I find myself in a strange limbo between all of these emotions. I find myself wanting to just move on. I don't want to sit and comprehend everything that has happened. I don't want to miss my mom or feel guilty for taking a life, even though he would have taken yours if I hadn't shot him. I just want to be. Because if I can just find a way to just be, I can get through this...” I let out a loud breath. “Wow, none of that just made sense. I should just shut up.”

Tony squeezes me gently. “No, actually it makes a lot of sense.” We sit in silence for a few minutes. It's not awkward. Instead, it's kind of peaceful. Tony asks a few minutes later, “Do you want to go back to the safe house?”

I sit up and look at him. “Is it okay if we stay here a little while longer? I think I just need some time away from everyone's attention. I don't think I could take it having my friends hover over me asking if I'm okay all of the time. You know?”

Tony laughs softly. “Kind of like how I asked you if you are okay just now?”

I give him a half grin. “No, that's not what I mean.”

Tony smiles back. “Yeah, I guess I'm the exception.”

“Yes, you are the exception.” I nod my head.

He gives me a smoldering look that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Tony asks me.

I give him a small, but meaningful, smile. “I know you would.
You’ve always been there when I needed you. But I do have to warn you. Now that you’ve said it out loud I may have to cash in on it sometime.”

He gives me a light laugh. “If you say so,” he says playfully.

“So,” I say changing the subject. “If we are going to stick around here for a little while longer, I guess I ought to give you the grand tour.” He stands up and holds his hand out for me.

“Why, I'd be honored.” I accept his hand and he pulls me up from the couch. The blanket falls to the ground. I pick it up and place it back on the sofa. That's when I see some dried blood on my inner wrist.

Tony notices it too and gently pulls my arm up to get a better look. “What happened? When did you cut yourself?”

I look down, not sure what to say. You can barely see a scar from where the knife must have sliced me without my knowledge. My healing abilities must have fixed me up. “I don't know, it probably happened last night.”

Tony looks at me suspiciously. I don't waver so finally he says, “Let's get you cleaned up then first.” He takes me to the kitchen and washes my arm under the sink. I watch as he gently wipes at the bloodstain with a damp cloth. I could have just as easily rinsed my own arm off but something about Tony's gesture and protective qualities is quite endearing in this moment.

After I'm all cleaned up and good to go, no Band-Aid necessary, he takes me on the tour. I view their formal dining room, which consists of a large oak table and six chairs. He takes me upstairs and shows me his parent's room, which he doesn't linger in too long. I'm sure the memories in there are hard for him.

I give him a hug after we close the door. “So can I see your room?”

The grief leaves his eyes and turns quickly into playfulness. “I thought you'd never ask.” He takes me down the hall and opens the door to his room. I walk in and look around. It's definitely not what I would have expected. The pitched ceiling makes the room look open and airy. A full size bed sits in the corner. A large desk seems to be the main focal point of the room. On it sits numerous graphite pencils, papers of different texture and colors, paints and a few books on sketching. Sketches of people and cars hang on the walls.

“Did you draw all of these?” I walk into the room and look from picture to picture as if browsing in an art exhibit.

“Yes,” Tony whispers. I look back at him and I can see something in his expression. His cheeks are a little red and he looks almost embarrassed.

“They are beautiful. You have amazing talent,” I reassure him.

His expression lightens and he smiles meekly, which is surprising since nothing about Tony is meek. “Thanks. I wasn't sure if you'd think it was goofy or childish.”

I shake my head and go back to admiring his handiwork. “Nothing about art is childish. Not many people can draw like this.” A sketch of an old Lamborghini is so three dimensional and starkly real that it looks like it could drive right off the paper. I find a picture of a man and woman holding hands. They look so lively and in love. The shading is perfect and you can see the emotions in their faces. The love shines through in the drawing. “Who is this?” I ask.