by Talis Jones
“Shh calm down, Maddy,” Yosef orders in a soothing tone I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him use before. “You’re safe. You’re healed. Just go back to sleep and let the drugs work their way out of your system.”
At that last bit of information I truly start to panic, my eyes snapping wide open, and when I find myself strapped to a table surrounded in white and steel I lose it. Screams tear out my throat and my sluggish limbs fight against the restraints.
“Maddy!” Yosef barks, hurrying to pry off the velcro cuffs. “Maddy, calm down.”
But I can’t. I can’t calm down because I’m back and I can’t survive this again. I’m back and there’s no 42 to set me free. I’d rather die than be back. How can I be back?? I bolt upright and he hugs me tight to keep me from running while whispering something into my ear.
Somewhere in the panicked chaos of my mind I realize that if I really were back in those labs they’d never let Yosef near me. That little logical fragment of my mind that still functions fights against the rest, urging me to take comfort in his presence and what it means.
Safe, I realize. If Yosef is here then I’m safe.
Yosef’s voice begins to calm with my heartbeat and his arms hold me tightly as if in an attempt to anchor me to reality. Slowly, very slowly, my panic attack dissipates and I’m left shaking and cold, sweaty and exhausted.
“You’re not there, you’re here, and here is home,” he murmurs over and over again.
“Home,” I mumble.
He leans back and his eyes hold mine. “Home.”
Silence hovers like a worried mother as I let reality anchor me once more.
“What happened?” I ask.
Fury darkens his eyes and holds his jaw in its vise. “Bomb,” he spits. “The baker gave you a bomb.”
My heart clenches and a tear falls from my eyes that Yosef gently wipes away. “That beautiful church,” I whisper mournfully.
My words stoke his anger. “Who gives a shit about an old hunk of stone? You almost died, Maddy.”
Ignoring that I take a deep breath before asking, “Was anyone else hurt?”
He shakes his head curtly. “The bomb was small and amateurish. Pathetic. It only took out you and anything close to you.”
I feel my eyebrows rise towards my hairline. “Castor’s kitchen!”
“Maddy,” Yosef says, his voice strained and grasping for something, perhaps patience.
“How did I survive?” I wonder softly.
“I don’t know,” he chokes. “Thank your God, I guess.”
Our God, I correct silently. “Why would someone want to kill me?” I ponder with a chill. “I’m no one.”
He looks at me long and hard. “But you hang out with quite the crowd of someones.”
My mind thinks of the Rolling Bones and their unwavering claim in the city. It isn’t large as far as territory goes, but it is powerful with connections to just about everything that goes on in the city’s underbelly. Maybe they, whoever “they” are, know I frequent the bakery so often it’s routine, a pattern to be exploited, and hoped I’d be standing next to Yosef when it went off. I silently berate myself for allowing a pattern to noose me, but patterns are comfortable and unavoidable because it’s just damn human nature.
Next I wonder about Charlie. We could’ve been spotted hanging out together by an enemy of his or even an ally warning me away from him. Ugh, too many possibilities, all of them ludicrous, but that might just be my entrance into the stage of denial.
“If you’re feeling up to it, we can go home,” Yosef offers suddenly.
I nod, eager to get out of this place, but a yawn betrays me and my eyes begin to droop no longer fueled by the adrenaline of my panic.
Yosef smirks. “I’d offer to let you sleep it off here, but I have a feeling you’d hit me for it once you’re back to normal.”
“I would,” I manage around another yawn.
“Come on, then,” he chuffs. He slides one arm beneath my knees and his other behind my back and lifts. I loop my arms around his neck and the moment my head rests against his neck I nearly succumb to blissful, restorative sleep.
His boots make light tapping sounds against the white floor and at the sight of all the lab coats I turn my face into his neck and feel him clutch me tighter.
“Sir, would you like a chair to wheel her out?” A kind nurse offers gesturing towards an Android in scrubs. I can tell it’s an Android by its rhythmic blinking. Unnatural. I close my eyes again and keep my arms locked tight in case Yosef thinks to take them up on the offer.
“No, thank you,” he responds politely.
“Oh, um, okay well before you leave we need you to sign her discharge papers –”
“Talk to Zenith,” Yosef interrupts brusquely, quickly losing patience. “Everything is taken care of.” With that he pushes past her, ignoring her sputtering, and to my surprise instead of the winter cold, the doors open to the underground train.
“Too expensive,” I complain sleepily.
Yosef settles me into a seat, strapping me in before he does the same for himself in the seat beside mine. “It’s too cold for you to go out in nothing but a medical gown. Besides, I’m fucking rich.”
“What?” Only then do I notice that I am indeed naked save for a thin medical dress that falls to my knees when standing and certainly isn’t reaching my knees right now while I’m sitting. My cheeks redden but I release a laugh anyhow. “Well at least now you’ll be happy that I have to buy some new clothes.”
Yosef doesn’t look particularly happy at all, in fact, but he makes the effort to roll his eyes.
The train whisks us from the hospital to our corner of the city in less than a breath, its movement so graceful there isn’t even a lurch from the brakes to wake me up. Yosef manages to unbuckle the harness and stand me up long enough to wrap his coat around me and zip it shut then heaves me into his arms once again and this time the doors do open to an icy winter chill. Only a couple of turns and we’re making our way up the church steps where the others meet us.
“We didn’t see anyone following or watching you,” Nyx reports.
Arcas shakes his head. “I didn’t catch anything on the cameras either.”
“I want you to check every camera near the bakery,” Yosef orders. “Anyone who went in or out, I want them identified.”
“Who knows when this was planned though,” Arcas warns. “Footage is only stored up to fourteen days and they could’ve had that bomb waiting for the right opportunity.”
“You were there,” Castor agrees. “You’re just shy of a hermit and yet you showed up on their doorstep. Maybe they were trying to find a way to send it home with Maddy or maybe you happened to show up and they thought it too good an opportunity to pass up except the timing was wrong and it didn’t go off with you holding the box. Instead you made it home and Maddy was the one holding the box.”
Too tired to pay attention, I tune them out letting their familiar voices be a comforting lullaby.
“I have to get her to bed,” Yosef cuts them off. “We’ll discuss this in a minute.”
My brain barely clings to consciousness but I manage to peek my eyes open just long enough to catch sight of the kitchen covered in debris and with its new sheeting in place of the shattered window. Yosef carries me all the way upstairs to my small bed and tucks me in. Wrapping my fingers around my music box he murmurs, “Lucky this wasn’t in your coat pocket.” Then he pulls a blanket over me and leaves me to sleep. Vaguely I realize I’m still wrapped in his coat, but if he wants it back he’ll have to fight me for it because it’s much too cozy.
If there’s one thing I have to applaud the R.A. for it’s their medical advancements. One night and day spent in their surgery and recovery tank after a bomb tried to shred me apart followed by one night of uninterrupted sleep and I feel almost as good as new. I spent somewhere around a year trekking my way across the Southern Coalition and the one thing I cried over upon immigrating here was the medic
al care.
Oh it costs a hefty chunk in your taxes for citizens, but the government set up a program giving all immigrants a one-time all expenses paid treatment upon arrival, resetting their bodies to optimal health to become useful citizens in the Alliance. Most people choose to opt out of the program, unable to afford the medical taxes and instead banking on their never needing anything more than a bandage or simple cough syrup, but with our crew’s many lines of work Yosef insists on the expense. Zenith is probably the “friend” who shuffles the paperwork for an additional fee. No need to have any records on us floating out there, medical or otherwise, especially not me.
“We gather in the midnight nothing around neon bonfires for warmth…”
Music fills my ears reaching each nerve and muscle, soothing me as I sharpen my throwing knives. Slowly, methodically, I let the task keep my hands busy while my mind surrenders to the music of someplace far away in time and space.
I enjoy my bubble of peace until someone trips on the last step with a bang. My head snaps over and I see Frocket dusting off her pants with an embarrassed grimace. I shove my headphones down around my neck to ask, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, Yosef said we’re not to, but this came for you.”
In her hand she holds out a small box wrapped in ribbon and my heart stops.
Seeing my face she gasps, “OH! Oh no um no Arcas checked it and it should be safe to open…” She places it down on the floor with a squeak that sounds a bit like “Sorry” and scurries back down the stairs.
Cautiously I eye the pretty packaging and try to override the panic locking my limbs. If Arcas scanned it then it should be fine… Standing up I force one foot in front of the other before crouching down and eyeing the silky ribbon like it might be a snake in disguise waiting to bite me. Glad no one is here to witness my trembling fingers I tug open the ribbon and slide the lid off of the box.
Nothing happens so I peer inside with more confidence and to my surprise I find a brand new handheld phone inside. I tap it on and there’s already one number stored inside: Charlie. Oddly delighted I send him a ping.
His reply is almost instant. <
I snort.
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My jaw drops though perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised. Yosef didn’t get to where he is today for being soft with his enemies. I will miss those delicious scones though…
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I bite my lip, wondering how to respond.
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