Exposing ELE (ELE Series #3) (12 page)

After dinner, Tony brings out a dessert of warm blackberries with a sugary crumble mixture on top. It's absolutely ridiculous. I savor every bite.

We've been mostly silent throughout the meal and I decide to break the rhythm with some conversation. “So, are you going to tell me how you learned to cook?” 

Tony finishes chewing his bite of food before answering. “Surprisingly, I learned from my dad. He went to culinary school in New York. Back when the virus wasn't a threat. He started teaching me the moment I could reach the counter. My mom also loved to bake. That double oven was a gift to her for their fifth wedding anniversary. She said it was one of the best gifts she ever received, with the exception of me.” Tony stares off at the stove, lost in a memory.

I place my hand over his on the table. “It sounds like your parents were pretty amazing.”

Tony looks back at me. The pain is still evident. “They were actually. It's hard for me sometimes to connect the past them with the people they turned into after taking that shot.” He looks down at the table and drums his fork against it nervously with his free hand. “I shouldn't admit it but honestly Willow; deep down in my heart I am happy that Dr. Hastings is dead.” He looks back up at me and finishes. “Anyone who had it in their right mind to create a substance that can cause that sort of reaction such as it did with the Reapers, deserves that fate.”

I take a deep breath. “I wish I could say that I don't agree with you. That taking a life is taking a life no matter what sins they've committed. But, I can't help feeling like the world is just that much safer with him gone.”

“I agree,” Tony says stoically. “So... this is pretty heavy conversation for our first date.”

I look at him in surprise. “Oh really? I didn't know this was a date.”

He gives me a crooked smile that makes him look that much more handsome. “I figure it is if you'd like it to be.”

I think about it for a few moments. I don't know if I'm ready for dating yet. “Maybe we can call it that. I mean you did cook for me and all. As long as we take things slow, like a sloth crossing the street kind of slow.” 

He laughs at my analogy. “Yeah, that can be a-rr-a-n-g-e-d,” he says in a slow motion voice.

I slap him on the hand and we both chuckle. We talk more about our childhood while we finish the incredible desert. I go back for seconds, not caring if I look like a glutton.

After dinner, Tony tells me to sit on the couch. I watch him run up the stairs. He returns a minute later with a six-string guitar in his hand.

“Oh, you're that guy?” I joke aloud.

Tony arches his eyebrow. “What kind of guy are you referring to?”

“You know, the guy who can do everything. Cook, draw, play instruments, kick butt and everything else under the sun. Not only are you unbelievably good looking but you have to have all of this talent too? I feel a little inadequate.”

Tony smiles and seems to chew on it for a few seconds before he says, “Sometimes I snore, I absolutely loath doing the dishes, I can't sing a note, I have a double cowlick so if I don't keep my hair cut short my hair will stand pitch straight on the back of my head and I don't really like cats. I mean, I love kittens, but cats kind of creep me out.”

I can't help but grin from ear to ear. “Oh, so there is a chink in all of that armor?” I laugh. “By the way, cats kind of creep me out too. I mean, one second they are loving on you and the next they try to scratch out your eyeballs.”

Tony laughs. “Yep!” He grins and sits down on the hearth of the fireplace with his guitar on his lap. “So back to your original statement... you think I'm good looking?”

Duh! He looks extremely hot with his guitar and his messy copper hair. “I think you know very well that the looks decent wagon didn't pass you by.”

He smiles. “Well, since we are being honest, I have to admit that I think you are so beautiful and sometimes when I look at you, you take my breath away.” He gives me a sobered expression that melts my insides.

I open my mouth but no words come out. I hold his gaze and then, feeling a little intimidated, I look down at my fingernails. Tony starts strumming the guitar and I sway to the sound of the strings.

We talk a little more throughout the night and when I start to get sleepy, Tony begins playing his guitar again while I curl up on the couch. I fall asleep to the gentle, strumming lullaby.

I can't breathe! The fact that I'm suffocating, pulls me from the dreamy state I was in. My eyes shoot open and my hands flail out. When I recognize Tony on top of me with his hands clenched hard around my neck, my heart starts hammering. The red in his eyes is swirling like torpedoes, going this way and that. His expression is that of someone not fully connected with reality, as he does his best to block off my airway.

I throw my hands over his and try to pull them away from my neck but no luck; he's much stronger than I am. Stars dance across my eyes as the edge of my vision begins to blur. My lungs beg for air and I try fighting harder. I dig my nails into the skin of his hands. He doesn't flinch. Tears come to my eyes as I realize my time is dwindling down. I can't get him off me and I can't breathe! “Please stop Tony! Please!” I beg.

His grip loosens a little and I think maybe some part of him deep inside, may have heard my plea. I breathe what little air I can through the small airway he's allowed with his lightened grip. It's barely enough to fill half of my lungs before he tightens down once more. He cocks his head to the side and sneers at me. “What? You don't like this, sugar?”

The realization that Tony would never in his right mind call me sugar, sends me into full fledge panic mode. I try to kick and claw at him as he squeezes my throat tighter. I swear, I can feel my vocal cords crush from the force. Stars burst forth like fireworks in my vision and a black fog starts rolling in as I continue to struggle with no real momentum, until eventually the whole world turns dark and I drift away.

***

I dart up, sucking in air as if it's going out of style. I look around the dark room, lit only by some dying embers in the fireplace. It takes me a few minutes to realize I'm alive and in Tony's living room. When he stirs, I turn and look down at him sleeping peacefully on the couch beside me.

What was that? A dream? A premonition? I get up, careful not to wake Tony. I make my way over to my backpack in the dark, unzipping it quietly, and grab a flashlight. I take it to the downstairs powder bath and shine it just enough to see my eyes in the mirror. They are the color of a copper penny. My heart starts beating double time as I realize that what I just went through was no dream. It's about to become a reality. I push a shaky hand through my hair.

I can't let that happen. I've never tried to change a future outcome, but I have to now! I take the flashlight and place it back inside my bag. I quietly grab my pistol from the front pocket and do my best to load a round in the chamber without waking him, and then I make my way back to the couch. I sit down on the floor facing Tony, placing the gun on the floor aimed away from me.

Closing my eyes, I focus my healing abilities. I have to heal Tony. I can't let this happen to him or to me. I place my hands gently on his chest and concentrate. I can feel a small current running from me into him. I stay there for what seems to be at least a half an hour focused completely on healing Tony.

Eventually he stirs some more and opens his eyes. He seems startled to see me sitting over him. He sits up on his elbow and my hands fall down to my knees. I feel too tired to do much of anything else with them.

“Willow? Are you okay?” he asks.

I blink a few times and then nod. “Couldn't sleep.” I search his eyes for any sign of the red torpedoes but all I see is the beautiful neon yellow. Maybe it worked, I think to myself as my eyelids become heavy.

“You need to get some rest, Willow. The sun isn't even out.” He pats the couch next to him and I second-guess whether the healing worked. “I'm not going to bite,” Tony jokes, not knowing how scary his humor is after I just had that premonition.

Not sure what else to do, I slide onto the couch in front of him. I pull the gun towards me so it's sitting just beneath the sofa, within my reach.

Tony puts his arm around me and I tense up. He quickly throws his hand in the air. “Sorry. Are you okay, Willow?” He sounds utterly confused.

No, I'm not okay, but I don't want him to know what happened in my premonition. If I told him, he would surely run off to protect me. I know that if he were away from me, he wouldn't stand a chance. He'd turn quickly and I wouldn't have the opportunity to stop it from happening. “Sorry, I just had a nightmare.” I take his hand in mine and pull it back around me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he whispers.

“Not tonight. I just want to sleep.” I say with a yawn. I lie wide-awake until I hear Tony fall asleep. With our hands interlocked, I focus some more on healing him. I keep working on it until my eyes finally droo
p closed and I fall asleep too.

I wake up to the sun streaming in through the windows. It takes me a moment to open my eyes. I look around for Tony since he isn't behind me. I find him packing some items into a bag.

He stops packing and smiles at me. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Morning,” I say a little groggily. With the memories of last night's premonition still on the forefront of my mind, I take a few moments to try to examine him closely. From this distance, I can't see any red. Hopefully, the healing worked. If only I can heal him permanently. There has to be a way. If I can stave off this onset of the change with my healing, there has to be a way I can ramp it up to stop it for good.

I stand up and stretch my arms overhead with a yawn. “So, what's the plan?” I ask, pointing at the bag he's packing.

He looks up from what he's doing. “I'm just gathering some more supplies to take back to the safe house. Including Ramen.” He holds up a couple packets to show me before he stuffs them back into the bag.

“Are we heading back today?” I ask, not sure if I really like that idea even though I know it's necessary.

“I think we ought to go let your dad know that you're safe. I'm sure he must be a nervous wreck.”

My heart lurches at the thought. I hadn't really considered the worry that my absence may have caused my dad. “You're right. How far is the safe house from here?” Since I was pretty far out of it when we left the prison, I didn't get a chance to memorize the path here.

“About a half day's trip. We could get there quicker if we use our abilities.” He hands me a pair of jeans, a white cotton top, and a belt. “These were my mom's. I figure you can use a change of clothes. They may be a little loose but the belt should keep everything in place.

I take the clothes and hug them to my chest. “Thanks.” I wonder if it's hard for him to hand me his mom's clothes. I can't imagine handing anything that belonged to my mom to anyone else right now. Not when the loss is still so fresh.

I go to the powder room to change. When I pick up the jeans that I'd been wearing to fold them, I notice the letter in the back pocket. I had nearly forgotten it was there. I slip the envelope out and stare at it in my hands. I don't know what is inside but I still can't bring myself to open it. Opening it seems like such a final thing to do. My heart just isn't ready for it yet. I slip it into the back pocket of the new jeans. “Sorry, Mom,” I whisper before heading back to find Tony.

He zips up his bag and looks up at me with a sweet smile. “You look nice.”

I pull down on my unruly curls. “Thanks.”

“You ready?” He hands me a bag.

“Yes,” I say. I remember the gun I had placed under the couch. I wait until Tony is preoccupied before I retrieve it. I un-chamber the bullet, put the safety on, and place it in my bag before he can notice anything out of place. I'm getting pretty good at this weapon stuff.

When we walk out of the house, I take a moment to commit the gorgeous lake view to my memory. “Do you think we will ever come back here?”

“Definitely.” He takes my hand in his and we begin our long walk to the safe house.

For the most part we walk in silence, stopping only to take a sip of water. We try to keep quiet in case there are any Reapers around. We still have no idea what ever became of the Reapers out on the mountainside after Dr. Hastings turned on that noise signal.

“What about Zack?” I ask Tony.

“If you want to go after him we can.” He doesn't stop and look at me, but he squeezes my hand for reassurance.

I don't know if I want to go after Zack. Killing Dr. Hastings didn't bring my mom back. I don't think taking Zack's life will do anything for me. I want to let everything stand the way it is, but I can't help but wonder if Zack may know a way to fix Tony. Perhaps I can make him tell me. Maybe now that his dad is gone and no longer controlling him, he would be willing to change like his sister. I make a note to find Candy when we get back to the safe house.

“Do you want to go after him?” he asks again since I haven't answered.

“I think I'd like to find him and talk to him. I don't want to kill him. I just want to know if he has any clue as to his father's motives for giving us all these abilities. I really want to know what he's done with all of the prisoners too. We still have a duty to help them,” I answer.