Pulse of Heroes (66 page)

One of the horses inside the stables was
neighing and snorting and Ando, being a horse aficionado, knew
those sounds very well. When he entered he found Susanna, Vilna’s
mare, stomping nervously with her hind legs, and her ears were
leaning backwards in a sure sign of discomfort and worry. She kept
swinging her head to the right, and the whites of her eyes showed
every time she did so. Ando read her name on the plaque behind her
and spoke to her soothingly before he approached. Although she was
still nervous, Ando’s abilities to calm the animal proved
successful and in no time she had moved forward to let him scratch
her forehead. But even as she relaxed she kept tilting her head to
the right, again and again as if she was trying to tell him
something. Ando looked around, but found nothing out of the
ordinary. There was a small door in the back of the stable and Ando
wondered if someone could be hiding in there? Was that what she had
been trying to tell him all along? He drew his sword again and
crept over quietly, ready to strike. But when he opened the door it
just led into another stable, only this one was empty.

“One of them got away. They rode the stud out
of here while we were fighting,” Ando announced when he returned
from feeding the horses and making sure that they could get out to
forage if needed. None of them had seen anyone sneak away on
horseback, but this new development meant that the situation had
changed entirely. Now there was a possibility that others would be
called in to fight them. Whoever it was had surely seen their
faces, and must have recognized at least one of them.

“Well there’s nothing we can do about it now
anyway,” Devin said, pulling his shirt off his shoulder to examine
the gash that Hadeno had inflicted on him. It was quite deep, and
although the blood had begun coagulating, it was obvious that
stitches would be helpful. Devin was trained as a doctor, but he
couldn’t very well stitch his own wound since it was his right arm.
Mikoto suggested that they use the pure silk thread that he had
wrapped around the handle of his sword to improve the grip. It was
clean, natural, and could be sterilized just as well as any medical
grade material. That sounded good enough for Devin, and Ando
volunteered to do the deed because he had plenty of experience from
when he served as a medic under Eric Rosenkrantz in the Seven Year
War against the Swedes.

Michelle was adamant about leaving Haden’s
room. It was just too much for her to be there amidst what remained
of him, a person that no longer existed, as if he never had at all.
And yet she saw his pained face everywhere she looked. It was that
expression of disappointment that came before the rage, when he
realized that it was she who had stabbed him. How could she have
done that? Was that her at all? Did it really happen? It was as if
she remembered the whole thing as a spectator, not an active
participant. In her mind, her actions resembled those of an
animated puppet on a string, as if someone else was driving her
body and she had neither control nor the will to stop it. The idea
that her own hands had killed someone was as foreign to her as was
the idea that Haden was dead. She began wailing again. Elliot
placed Michelle back on her feet right in front of the bedroom door
and told her not to turn around until he returned. The last thing
he wanted was for Michelle to see her blood soaked reflection in
the mirror. So she leaned her forehead against the jamb while
Elliot returned downstairs to search Hadeno’s headless body for the
keys. Although she didn’t want to think about it anymore,
Michelle’s mind kept replaying that final moment.

Elliot didn’t say much after they exited the
bedroom. He carried Michelle to another bathroom, and without
turning on the light he placed her in the shower and turned on the
warm water. Michelle’s cries ebbed and returned as she stood there
with Elliot holding her steady by her arm. She wanted to cry into
him, but she hated him also. She just wished she wasn’t. Michelle’s
dress bled for a long time and Elliot watched the water turn from
red to pink and after that clear. Michelle eventually sat down and
let the water run over her head; she kept her eyes closed. She
would never feel clean. Elliot gently explained to her that he was
going to pull the dress off over her head, and Michelle let him
while she placed her arms over her chest. When Elliot was satisfied
that there was no more blood he turned off the water, wrapped one
large towel around her, and dried her hair with another. Michelle
didn’t remember feeling like that with anyone, save for when she
was a baby and her mother bathed her. She wished she could turn
back the clock.

Elliot carried Michelle back to the living
room and set her gently in the center of the couch. He grabbed an
angora throw from one of the recliners and wrapped her up in it. He
could tell that she was feeling cold and exposed.

“I’m just going to look for something in the
other room. I’ll be back in less then a minute,” he said, looking
into her eyes. But Michelle was far away. It was as if he wasn’t
there in front of her at all. Elliot knew that Michelle was still
in shock, and contemplated whether he should just put her to sleep,
but decided against it. Her brain needed to do what it had to do in
order to catch up with all that she had been through. She had a few
hairline scratches on her face from the tiny chips of colored
glass, and a larger wound on her side that had obviously been
caused by the blade of his sword. Elliot grabbed some gauze and
bandages from a small box below the bathroom sink. He turned on the
light to search for some sort of disinfectant, and it was then that
he realized how pale he looked. Elliot lifted his shirt and looked
down at his wound; he couldn’t feel anything at all. It was as if
the wound wasn’t there, but he knew very well that his own powers
could not block pain to that degree. Maybe it was the toxic alloy,
slowly spreading and killing off every tissue it touched like a
third degree burn, rendering his nerves incapable of sending pain
signals to the brain. He’d worry about that later, he thought,
curtailing any further thoughts on the matter. After searching in
vain for some sterile alcohol or hydrogen peroxide, he walked to
the kitchen and looked in the freezer. He found a bottle of very
expensive vodka and splashed his open wound with the freezing
crystal liquid.

Michelle heard a kettle’s whistle and it
reminded her of home. How she missed her mother. Maybe Elliot could
make her tea. She always felt better after tea. A few moments
later, Elliot returned to the living room carrying a bowl of hot
water mixed with the vodka, the clean towels and bandages tucked
under his arm. Michelle was disappointed; no tea. Elliot noticed
the slightest change in her expression and asked if he could bring
her something. Michelle shook her head no, then changed her
mind.

“I thought you were making tea,” she said
weakly. How could he have not thought of that himself, Elliot
pondered?

“I’m sorry, I’m a horrible cook,” he said,
looking downwards with shame, “but I can clean. I’ll go find some
later, ok?” Michelle almost smiled, but it was too much effort.

“That’s ok. I don’t clean… but I cook,” she
said flatly, and Elliot knew that it was a good sign.

“I’m going to disinfect some scratches you
have on your face, and then I want you to let me look at the cut
you have, ok?” Michelle had no idea that she had cuts on her face
until the alcohol made contact with them. “I assume it’s from the
glass…” Michelle begged for him not to talk about it. Poor
Michelle, he thought as he gently dabbed at her face. Michelle
lifted the towel away from her side to reveal her wound and watched
as Elliot took care of it so gently. How could he switch from
murder to such tenderness without any effort? He was dangerous.
Michelle’s muscles tensed and Elliot locked his eyes with hers. It
was a bad idea to love someone like him, she thought while looking
into the lakes of his eyes without flinching. Elliot could sense
that Michelle was judging him. He had seen that look before, the
look of disenchantment. Was she that far gone? No, he wasn’t going
to let her slip away that easily to wallow in all this misery by
herself. Without really thinking it through he leaned in to kiss
her, but Michelle turned her face from him. Elliot swallowed hard;
she had rejected him. Michelle wasn’t ready for any of that, and
she didn’t know if she ever would be. Elliot’s eyes were so sad;
perhaps she should explain herself to him.

“I can’t put together all the things I have
seen and make sense of them,” she said, her eyes still turned to
the floor. “He showed me things that hurt me, not just what
happened tonight, things from the past. I don’t know really know
who you are.” Elliot was puzzled. What did she see, and how much
had Hadeno revealed to her about him?

Elliot leaned back on the sofa. Michelle’s
heartbeat hadn’t quickened when he touched her, and when he leaned
in to kiss her, her eyes did not dilate and her skin did not flush.
Since he had first become involved with her, even from the day he
busted her at the school, she had never not wanted him. It was
always he who had to be levelheaded and pull away from her. But now
she just sat there next to him without any expression, and her body
was motionless like a stone.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked,
taking a hold of Michelle’s wrist to feel her pulse. It was very
weak, and he worried because normally he could just hear it without
the need to search for it.

“I don’t know. Maybe last night? I don’t even
know what day it is anymore.”

“It’s Monday, late, probably somewhere around
midnight,“ he said, looking around for a clock. “You’re very weak,
Michelle, and with everything you’ve been through you need food.
Lets go into the kitchen and find something. I’m sure the guys will
be in soon.”

“I’m not hungry. I can’t even think of food.
How can you think of food after all this?” Michelle asked him in
disgust. Elliot told her that he wasn’t hungry either. But it was
more about fuel, and that was the only way to get it. Michelle
refused, and asked him when she could go home to her aunt’s. Elliot
had almost completely forgotten that Michelle was not her own
person yet, she was still somebody’s little girl and they would be
expecting her to return. That made him feel even worse.

“It would have been better if you had never
met me… that’s why I asked, begged, for you not to return to
Hekademos
back then. You are too good for any of this, and
look what I’ve done.” Michelle didn’t want to talk about them.

“What did he mean when he said he found
‘her’? Did you know his father?” Michelle asked to change the
subject.

“I really have no idea Michelle. I’ve never
met his father, or mine. We’re not brothers. The only thing I can
figure out is that he simply lost his mind and was talking about an
old legend. A woman that is just like us. We’ve all sought her at
one point or another. The information about her is very scarce. I
think one of our kind just made her up out of pure loneliness. She
doesn’t exist. It’s a fantasy. I know; I searched for years.”
Michelle wondered why Elliot wanted to find this woman so badly,
and immediately asked him if they were all looking for women like
themselves, and only went with humans because there was nothing
else. But Elliot told her that to stop asking questions and get
some rest instead.

“If you’re not going to eat, you should try
and get some sleep to gain some strength back. I can’t take you
back home in this condition.”

“I can’t. I’m scared that when I close my
eyes I’ll see it all over again,” she said, nervously. Elliot told
her that he could help her fall asleep like he had done before and
she wouldn’t need to think about anything. Michelle looked at him
with suspicion and that stung him even more profoundly than her
refusing his kiss. She didn’t trust him.

“You know I came here for you. Why would I do
anything to hurt you? You have to trust me because I can’t stand it
when you look at me like that.” Elliot could no longer hold it
in.

“How do I know that you won’t…” she avoid his
eyes, “you know… because I have this
Pulse
thing, get me
pregnant while I’m asleep. How do I know that’s not the only reason
you’re here?” Michelle’s voice shook. Her fears made perfect
sense.

“Because I can’t have any more children,
ever.” There. He’d said it. Matter-of-factly. His words sounded
forced, maybe even callus, but how else would she believe him.
Michelle heard him plain and clear, and her thoughts immediately
turned to how something like that would affect her if things
between them were back to the way they had been. She had never had
to think about children before, she just knew that one day she’d
have them. Elliot went on to explain that that was why she would
never have to worry about the so-called curse, which wasn’t really
a curse; it was just that some of them referred to it as such. It
had to do with the difficulties that human women had in delivering
their babies, especially male offspring. Many died in childbirth,
just as Elliot’s mother had. The ones that survived were usually
the ones that carried
The Pulse
in their blood, but even
with that it was never a sure thing.

“Ok, I’ll let you do it. But I don’t want to
wake up and have it be morning and I’m still in this hell.” Elliot
reassured her. He placed a pillow under her on the couch and helped
her lean back. He tried to smile at her, although his heart was
still full of worry and regret. He placed his hand on her forehead
and his eyes began changing color. Michelle didn’t look at him and
smile in wonder as she had done many times before. Instead she just
stared at the ceiling. His eyes scared her; he was a creature and
she was human.