Second Sight

by Carly Fall

  “We need to run,” Joe had said one night as they’d lain in her bed in her small apartment off base. “Maybe then, we can figure out who to go to, who will believe us and offer us protection.”

  They’d taken off the next day, simply throwing a suitcase in her car and leaving. Because hindsight happened to always be twenty-twenty, she now saw that they should have realized the government had already been on to them. Who ran a highly illegal experiment without having security measures in place?

  She’d never know for sure, but she guessed they’d tripped a secret camera when they’d broken into the infirmary that night.

  On the run for a week, she’d almost felt as if she resided in another dimension. Fear had gripped; yet, Joe had always soothed her, making her feel like they could topple a government, or at least, the evil that resided in it.

  Her computer beeped, bringing her back to the present. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and studied her screen. The virus had made a bit of progress, but not enough to actually break into the Group Nine mainframe.

  She stood and stretched her hands over her head, feeling exhausted and much older than her thirty-four years. Days when the past consumed her thoughts did that to her. On the run with Joe, she’d felt alive and free, although scared to death, and her existence now seemed more like a prison sentence. Joe had abandoned her emotionally, and she’d become so angry about everything in her life. The man she’d given her heart to no longer wanted her, her horrible scar, her loneliness. She lived day after day alone, except for the people Joe dumped at her doorstep until he could find a place for them. Yes, she often took her anger out on her guests, but really, she had no other outlet.

  She had no friends, no lover. Besides, who would want to have sex with a woman like her, one with such terrible scars, both inside and out?

  Glancing at the clock which read 6:00 p.m., she moved and her stomach growled loudly. She’d had nothing to eat or drink since her coffee that morning.

  Zach had rattled her.

  Taking a deep breath, she promised herself she wouldn’t let that happen again. Yes, she’d make both of them turkey sandwiches for dinner. She would also partake in a couple large glasses of wine.

  Opening the office door, she heard classical music, and the smell of oregano, basil, and other spices assaulted her nose, making her stomach growl even louder.

  What had he done?

  She went to the kitchen. Zach stood over the sink, his back to her and he moved his arm, but his wide shoulders hid what he did.

  Glancing at the countertop, she saw two plates, each with a piece of garlic bread, and two glasses filled with red wine, the bottle standing next to them.

  “Hello, Ella,” he said, keeping his back to her.

  “H-hi,” she stammered, surprise rolling through her at the scene.

  Slowly, he turned. He carried a pot full of spaghetti and sauce. It looked delicious, and her stomach howled.

  He grinned and set down the pot next to the plates. “I’m guessing you’re hungry?”

  As he slowly dished out the spaghetti, tears welled in her eyes. This must have been so difficult for him to do, and she tried to remember when someone had put in so much effort into something for her, and been so kind.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Good, because I think I made enough spaghetti to feed an army.”

  She wiped her eyes. “That was very sweet of you. Thank you.”

  He looked her way for a moment, and then slightly bowed his head. “You’re very welcome. It’s my pleasure.”

  He picked up one plate and began making his way to the dining room.

  “Let me help you. It’s the least I can do after you put in all this effort. This must have been difficult for you.”

  He stopped in his tracks, his smile fading. “I prefer not to use that word, if you don’t mind. Since the explosion, my life has become challenging. Referring to something as difficult signals that it’s hard to do. I would rather rise to a challenge.”

  She nodded, not sure what to say.

  “However, just because I take on a challenge doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate a little help at the finish line.”

  He set the plate down on the island and pushed it toward her. Picking it up, she also reached for the second plate. “If you could get the wine …”

  “Of course,” he said. “Should I grab the bottle, as well?”

  “Yes, please.”

  They sat in silence as they ate.

  “This is really good, Zach. Thanks so much.”

  “My pleasure. I’m sorry I couldn’t make the sauce from scratch, but I couldn’t find the cumin in the cupboard, and I didn’t feel any hamburger in the freezer, or the fridge. In fact, I didn’t find any protein—chicken, fish … nothing. I did, however, find a jar of sauce. I added a few spices, so I hope it’s satisfactory.”

  Ella shoved another huge bite into her mouth and thought it very well may the best spaghetti she’d ever tasted. “This is delicious, and no, you won’t find any fish in this house. I can’t stand it.””

  “I’m so happy you like the spaghetti, and it’s too bad about the fish. I make a mean salmon fillet.”

  “Sorry, but I’ll have to pass on that one.”

  He delicately spun the noodles around his fork, sipped his wine, then wiped his mouth. Again, she thought of the other men who’d come through here. Rarely had she shared meals with them, but they reminded her of Rottweilers and a steak. Even with his disability, Zach exuded manners and class.

  “Could you please pass me the wine, Ella?”

  She placed the bottle in his outstretched hand and made sure he had a firm grip on it before letting go. He lifted his glass, and when he was certain the bottle met the lip of the glass, then he poured.

  She almost called out when the wine was about to overflow, but he stopped pouring and set the bottle down.

  “How did you know when to stop?” she asked.

  He smiled. “I count. I learned early in my blindness that if I could count to five while pouring wine into a regular wine glass, it’s enough. I did go through much trial and error, though.”

  She grinned, marveling at his methods of coping.

  “What did you do today?” she asked after a beat.

  He shrugged. “Savannah took a swim in the pool after a duck landed in it. She tried to chase it.”

  “How did you know a duck was in the pool?”

  “Because I heard him land. Quack, quack.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, well, then after I finally got her out of the water, the smell of chlorine on her was overpowering, and I know it’s not good for her skin. I had to wrangle her into the bath, which is a feat in itself.”

  She noticed the crisp blue shirt he wore this morning had been replaced with a black t-shirt.

  “It turned out to be a brutal battle, as it always is, but I emerged the victor.”

  He grinned at her, and she looked around for Savannah. “Where is she?”

  Zach chuckled. “She’s pouting somewhere. She hates baths, but maybe now, she’ll stay out of the pool.”

  Ella tipped her head as she studied him. She ‘d never fully understood the bond between a human and a dog, and with Zach, the connection seemed quite intricate, almost as if Savannah was not only a trusted companion, but quite like a child to him, as well. He obviously deeply cared for her.

  She glanced around the dining room and didn’t see Savannah anywhere. Looking over her shoulder, she peered into the kitchen, and the dog couldn’t be found. “She must be hiding well.”

  “Yes. Baths are almost a fate worse than the vet for her.”

  She laughed, then sipped her wine. As she watched the gorgeous man across from her, the wine seeped into her bones, and she felt more relaxed than she had in months. The food, the wine, the company … yes, it all soothed her. “Thank you again for dinner.”

  He set down his fork and curled his hands together on the table surround
ing his plate. “Ella, I’m sorry for whatever I said this morning that upset you. I wanted to do something to apologize, but I also realized you’d worked all day without a break, so you needed to be fed. It feels good to take care of another person, even if I’m the reason they need to be cared for.”

  She sipped from her glass and sat back in her chair, reevaluating his words. He blamed himself for her self-imprisonment today. “Look, Zach, this morning, you just surprised me. It wasn’t anything you said.”

  He shook his head. “I felt the air change when I told you that you were beautiful, Ella.”

  The anger she felt surfaced again, but not as strong.

  “Emotions are powerful,” he said, his voice low. “They can change the vibrations in a room. People feel it, but they aren’t cognizant of it. A negative person can bring down a room in minutes, and those around him or her don’t even know what happened to their happy moods. On the other hand, a happy person can lift everyone’s sprits. Anger radiates, slithering almost as a snake would, looking for its prey. I felt anger this morning, Ella.”

  She hated that such an intuitive, polite man had invaded her space, and almost wished for the Neanderthals before him. They had been easy to ignore and scare away. Zach played on a whole different ball field, one that took her by surprise.

  Taking a long sip of her wine, she looked over her cleaned plate and pulled the bowl over for seconds, deciding she owed him an explanation.

  “When Joe and I found out what the government was doing, we ran. They came after us and put two bullets in Joe’s back, and then dragged a knife over my face. I’m no longer beautiful, Zach. When I pull my hair back, I see a long, nasty scar down the side of my face and the mottled skin around it. My beauty is gone, and when you said that, it shook me. I haven’t heard that word used to describe me in seven years. It was … upsetting. I reacted poorly.”

  He stared in her direction for a few moments as he sipped his wine, unnerving her as she felt like he could see into her soul, even though he was blind. This man fascinated her, yet scared the hell out of her all at once.

  “Well, from what I saw in my mirror this morning, you are still beautiful, Ella. But if you don’t think so, I completely understand. However, I can relate to your statement.”

  With that, he removed his glasses and stared in her direction, his eyes two white orbs. Gasping, she found the sight frightening, but not disgusting. After a few minutes, she became used to it, and more intrigued than anything else. What had happened to him?

  “You said there was an explosion,” she ventured.

  “Yes. In the jungles of Guatemala,” he murmured, slipping on his glasses. “I’m aware of my appearance based on my little slideshow I get every morning if I stare into a mirror. It seems we’ve both had something we took for granted yanked away from us.”

  She nodded, and considered their differences. Her scar could be hidden by growing her hair. However, when she saw it each morning, what it represented made her so furious—her loss of freedom, her loss of love. However, she could function.

  Zach’s loss told a different story. She couldn’t imagine the hours and effort involved in learning the skills he had. Yes, Savannah had played a huge role, but the things he could do … it shocked her, and gave her a whole new respect for him, and for the blind.

  “Your lack of eye coloring isn’t ugly.”

  “And neither is what I’ve seen of you. So again, I apologize for this morning. I didn’t mean to offend, and I still stand by my statement. You’re beautiful.”

  She sipped her wine, feeling the warm glow of acceptance slide over her.

  They ate in peaceful silence for a few moments, and she allowed the last bit of stress she’d felt earlier to leave her shoulders.

  The spaghetti tasted delicious, as did the garlic bread. She poured more wine into both of their glasses and jumped when the phone rang, breaking their comfortable silence.

  “Excuse me,” she said, wiping her mouth and placing the napkin on the table as she stood.

  “Of course.”

  She walked into the kitchen and looked at the caller I.D. Rarely did she receive phone calls. Landy’s Laundromat popped up, and she braced herself as she answered.

  “Hello, Joe.”

  “Hello, Ella. How’s Zach? I take it you haven’t put a bullet into him yet?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Excellent. I’d like to meet with both of you tomorrow. I’ll swing by around dinner time, if that works.”

  As she shut her eyes, the stress returned. She hated how Joe still had such a hold over her, even after all this time. She’d come to terms that he didn’t love her; however, she couldn’t get past the anger it brought. “We’ll be here.”

  Chapter 8

  Zach woke the next morning to Savannah nuzzling his hand. It seemed she’d finally forgiven him for the bath the previous day.

  He stretched and got out of bed, then counted the paces to the door, slid it open, and let her out. He inhaled deeply, the crisp morning air reviving him, and he dropped to the carpet for his morning exercise routine.

  After completing it, he stood and went into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face then took a deep breath, wondering what visions the mirror would bring today.

  He lifted his head, and the images started.

  A wall of white rock stretching at least a hundred feet in the air. Another gun—the same one as before, if he wasn’t mistaken. A turkey sandwich piled high with lettuce and tomatoes, a computer screen with a list of names on it and one of them highlighted, and a metal chair sitting in the middle of a concrete room.

  That was it. He shut his eyes, committing it all to memory. He hoped that turkey sandwich proved to be something that would take place today, because it really looked good. The gun definitely happened to be the same one he’d seen yesterday, and the names on the computer screen meant nothing to him, but he memorized them anyway. Now, the metal chair in the concrete room certainly didn’t give him the warm and fuzzies—it looked like a place he would have taken a subject to be tortured if he had been asked to do that sort of thing when he’d been an assassin. He wished he could have seen the whole room so that he had an idea of its dimensions. How would the space play into his life?

  As he showered, he also thought about the wall of rock. What would one do there? It would be terrible for target practice—a bullet could easily ricochet back and kill the shooter. Would someone be pushed from the top, or maybe jump? The more he thought about it, the more curious he became.

  The thing about the morning visions remained that they often offered more questions than they answered. He found it both irritating and exciting, because he never knew when the information he gathered would be useful.

  Savannah came back in and he shut the door, then got dressed in black jeans and a red t-shirt. He pulled on his boots and then slid on Savannah’s halter that he hadn’t replaced after getting her in the bath yesterday.

  They walked into the kitchen, and he heard the coffee brewing.

  As he waited for it to complete, he thought about the previous night. After the phone call, Ella had informed him that Joe would be joining them later today. The man certainly had an effect on her. Anger had practically radiated off of her after she’d spoken with him. He wondered what their history had been, what Joe had done to bring out such a visceral reaction in her.

  After the phone call, she’d retired to her bedroom for the rest of the night, which had disappointed him. He had hoped they could continue their conversation, but it wasn’t meant to be.

  He poured a cup of coffee and heard Ella’s bedroom door open, so he pulled down another mug.

  “Good morning,” he said as she entered the kitchen.

  “Hi.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  She opened the refrigerator and pulled out her milk, then added it to her drink.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “It was okay.
”

  “You seem a little stressed, Ella.” Apparently, the feeling hadn’t left her since last night, which had probably also led to her bad night’s sleep.

  She sighed. “Joe does that to me. I hate it that he does, but he gets me riled up.”

  Again, he wondered about their relationship. Could it simply be a tense working association, or had there been something else?

  “That’s why I’m going rock climbing today before he gets here. It relaxes me.”

  He grinned. The wall of rock. “Great. I’ll go with you.”

  After a beat of silence, she spoke. “Zach, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? Isn’t it dangerous to rock climb without a spotter?”

  “That’s one of those things you say where I don’t know whether to be offended on behalf of blind people everywhere or laugh.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, just laugh. It’s okay. However, I really do want to go. I promise not to be a burden or to get in your way.”

  “Zach—”

  “Please?”

  As she sighed, he knew he’d be going with her. “I’m just getting a little cabin fever being in this house all the time. It’ll be nice to get out.”

  “Okay.” She set down her coffee cup. “We’ll leave in about an hour.”

  Chapter 9

  Ella reached for a ledge with her left hand and pushed with her right foot. She studied the wall above her, looking for her next handhold.

  She’d climbed about thirty feet, and had another twenty to go before she reached her goal.

  Today, no one joined her on the rock, which was fine with her. She loved the solitude the climb gave her, the way she held complete control over what her next move would be. No one told her what to do, how to do it, and when to do it, unlike her life. Joe’s presence always hung above her head.

  She also loved the way her muscles clenched and worked as she climbed, and the concentration it required to scale the face of a massive rock. She needed to look a few moves ahead to see where she’d be placing her hands and feet—the sport did not allow for error or hastiness.