by Carly Fall
“I’m actually doing okay. I think Nico’s worse off than I am. He lets his imagination get the best of him about what went on in there, even though I’ve given him the story literally blow by blow. I’ve had a couple of nightmares, but I’m okay with what I did. Maybe it’s the Colonist in me, but in some ways, I liked it. I don’t know if I liked it because of my hatred of Daniel, or if I liked it because … well, because it satisfied my Colonist tendencies.”
Macy stared at her friend, who could be so sweet and so nice, but then had these terrible thoughts and enjoyed being in fistfights to the death, which made her such a complex person. She’d never fully understand Alaina, but that would be okay. Instead, she’d embrace the things she found puzzling because they only made Alaina more interesting.
Things were quiet for a moment as they let Alaina’s words sink in.
“Well, Colonist tendencies or not, I still love you,” Macy said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Does your Colonist side like Christmas? You know it’s coming up, and that will be so fun, especially with the kids!” Faith exclaimed.
As Faith and Alaina discussed something called ‘Elf on the Shelf’ and other different decorating ideas, Macy listened intently. It would be her first holiday season here that she actually celebrated, and she wanted to understand what all the festivities meant and how she could fully participate.
Chapter 53
Titus, Cohen, and Roman walked down the street together, getting ready to end their shift. The night had been quiet, and they hadn’t run into any Colonist offspring activity.
Noah had said earlier that the murder rate had dropped since Daniel’s death, and he hoped that cutting off the head of the organization would cause chaos, leading to the demise of the group responsible.
Titus wished he was right, but he couldn’t help thinking about Daniel’s last words to Macy: I’m merely a small working part in a much larger machine. Killing me won’t stop it.
He hoped he’d been lying.
A small convenience store laid ahead, a mom and pop place in the corner of a brick building in a pretty rough part of town. He frequented the place when on patrol as he really liked the owner, Tim. This was the same place where they’d bought the duct tape a couple of weeks ago when they’d questioned the Colonist offspring.
Because of the neighborhood, Tim always worked to keep the place up. Titus had visited on more than one occasion when Tim was replacing the destroyed lights above the door, or sweeping the sidewalk in front of his establishment. The inside seemed dark and drab compared to the bright lights of the corporate convenience stores around, and the yellowing tile showed its age. However, their shelves were always stocked, the coffee always fresh twenty-four hours a day, and they never ran out of his favorite orange soda.
Speaking of which …
“I’m going to stop for a drink,” he announced.
“I’ll come in with you. I could use a coffee,” Cohen said.
Roman nodded. “A chocolate bar sounds good to me.”
They filed into the store, and Titus nodded at a cashier he’d never seen before standing behind to counter to his right. Tim always greeted them with a smile and some small talk, but he must have been taking a much-needed break tonight.
The man behind the counter glanced at him, then moved his eyes toward a door beside the coolers on the back wall. He had beads of sweat on his brow, and seemed pale. He fidgeted from foot to foot.
Maybe the guy thought they were undercover cops or something and he worried about his drug stash.
Whatever had the male in a snit, Titus had no intention of getting involved with human issues.
Cohen wandered over to the coffee, while Roman moved to the candy aisle. Titus stood before the coolers trying to decide between grape and orange soda. He’d had his heart set on orange, but now grape sounded pretty good. Decisions, decisions. Maybe he should just get both.
He heard Roman talking to the clerk in low tones, then he announced he’d wait outside for them.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cohen move to the counter.
“C’mon, Titus. It’s not a life or death decision.”
Fuck it. Grape it would be.
He opened the door and reached in to grab the soda, when a strange sensation overcame him, like he was being watched. He glanced up to see a male standing inside the cooler among the cases of beer and soda. Their gazes locked, and Titus had the distinct feeling that the male should not be in there. Had that been why the clerk had glanced over at the door leading to the cooler? Because of this guy?
His instincts proved correct, and the male raised a gun, pointing it at Titus, who reached for his own, but drew a second too late.
Time seemed to stop, almost as if he’d been sucked into a vacuum. The first bullet hit him in the shoulder, sending him backward and off balance. He felt nothing as he tried to catch his footing with little success. As he leveled his gun, he knew didn’t have a chance of hitting the shooter, but he tried anyway and watched his beloved grape soda explode all over the place.
The second bullet hit his gut. This one, he felt as he buckled forward, the pain so intense, he struggled to breathe. Fire spread throughout his belly in seconds as he gasped like a fish on land.
As he lay on the grungy tile, the room began to spin and blackness encroached on his peripheral vision. He heard Cohen shouting, then gunfire, then Roman cursing. The clerk yelled that they needed to call 911; Roman told him to put down the phone.
He always imagined that if he were to die, he’d see some form of deity. Perhaps angels, or the gods of war or the gods of peace his people believed in. Instead, he gazed upon packets of beef jerky and bags of chips. The smell of the streets permeated his nostrils, and although he liked Tim, he wondered when last the floors had been mopped.
Well, well, well. Wasn’t this just a big shit storm? He’d been face-to-face with Colonists, as well as their offspring, and he’d survived.
In fact, he’d just gotten his life together, and now it seemed it would be ending at any minute.
Macy. His Macy. Such a good female with a kind heart. She deserved better than him, but he detested the thought of leaving her.
As the pain radiated throughout his whole body and he fought to catch his breath, he wondered if the shooter was a Colonist offspring, or had they walked in on a robbery in progress?
Wouldn’t that be something if a human ended his life?
The last thing he heard before he passed out was Roman screaming. “Blake, I need a fucking pick-up, right fucking now!”
Then his world went black.
Chapter 54
Macy’s phone rang, and she turned over and groggily glanced at the clock. At three in the morning, it couldn’t be good news.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Macy, I need you in the kitchen,” Beverly ordered.
“It’s three in the morning, Beverly. What’s happened?”
“We’ve got two wounded with gunshots coming in.”
Wide awake now, worry clawed at her gut as she grabbed her cell phone. She hoped to see a text from Titus that he was fine, but she stared at a blank screen.
“I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
“Hurry. They’ll be here anytime.”
She slid on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, then stuffed her phone into the front pocket. Titus would let her know he hadn’t been hurt.
Unless …
She didn’t allow her thoughts to travel there.
She waited impatiently for the elevator and crossed her arms over her chest when she finally stepped in, a cold feeling settling in her bones, and she shivered.
The ride up was silent except for the hum of the lift. When the doors opened, she walked down the hallway into the bright lights of the kitchen. Beverly stood there expectantly with latex gloves covering her hands. Medical supplies littered the counter, and Beverly stared at the main door into the silo, two gurneys ready to accept their patients in
front of her.
“Who is it?” Macy asked, also pulling on some gloves.
Beverly sighed. “It’s Titus, Macy.”
“Oh, no.”
She looked down, half expecting the floor to have disappeared because she felt as if she were in some sort of free fall. Her head spun, tears stung her eyes, and she wanted to vomit. Her whole body began to tremble, and her knees weakened. She leaned on the counter for support and tried to pull herself together and think things through logically. If Titus had been shot, it didn’t necessarily mean he would die.
“You’ll need to heal him.”
Her chest constricted as she fought back the sobs. “I can’t.”
Beverly turned to face her, her green gaze glowing just slightly. “Yes, you can, and you will, or he’s going to die.”
The force of Beverly’s voice jarred her and she stepped away from her as she took off her gloves and threw them on the counter. Her desire to run from the situation almost outweighed her need to see Titus for herself.
“Cohen can heal him.”
Beverly shook her head. “He’s been shot, as well. I need to get his Natwa powder on him, but as you know, even then he’ll be weak. He won’t be in any condition to heal Titus, and I don’t have the tools to perform the surgery he needs. It’s all on you.”
Macy let the tears fall and looked back down to the floor. When a Healer became injured, they could be healed by another Healer, or given Natwa powder, a substance from their planet. Cohen had traveled with a large amount, but Macy hadn’t bothered to bring any, as she hadn’t planned to stay very long.
How would she be able to do this? How would she heal Titus when she simply didn’t have the power to do so?
“I don’t know who you need to pray to, Macy, but you better start. Titus’ life literally hangs in your hands.”
Grabbing on to the counter, she thought she might faint. Beverly had always been one to deliver news in a blunt, straightforward way. She’d always admired it, until now when she stood on the receiving end. Now, she’d like a little sympathy, but Beverly offered none. Instead, she’d made it very clear that she would be responsible for Titus living or dying.
She tried to focus her mind, tried to make her healing abilities return. Yet, she felt nothing. In fact, she seemed so ordinary, she wanted to scream and rip her hair out.
The kitchen door burst open. Roman and Axel brought in Cohen, his blood covering the front of both of them. Beverly pointed to the gurney on the left. They laid him out, and she instructed them to take him down to the gym.
Blake and Hudson followed with Titus unconscious between them, and Beverly pointed at the gurney on the right. She stepped up to Titus and looked him over as she reached for the gauze and packs on the counter.
Shaking her head, she turned and followed the gurney carrying Cohen.
“Bev, where are you going?” Hudson called.
She glanced back at him with tears in her eyes. “I can’t save Titus. Only Macy can. But, I can save Cohen, and I fully intend on doing so.”
Hudson blanched, then nodded. He looked at Macy, his hands and arms covered in blood up to his elbows as he put pressure on Titus’ stomach wound. Blake’s arms and hands were also crimson as he pressed on Titus’ shoulder.
She gazed at her lover’s pale face. His lips had kissed her on every inch of her body. His beard had tickled her skin. His closed eyes would reveal warm orbs that caressed her with a simple look.
She had to save him.
“Macy!” Hudson yelled.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, feeling utterly hopeless. She sensed no healing abilities within her whatsoever.
Blake glanced around the room. “Macy, you took care of Titus when Justice first found him. Close your eyes and think about that part of your life. Think about a time in the bunker when you healed Titus and how it felt.”
“We’re running out of time,” Hudson muttered.
She nodded and shut her eyes, traveling back in time to her days in the bunker.
She’d felt so useless when they’d first arrived, so she’d made busy work for herself by cleaning and organizing things that needed neither. When Justice had walked in carrying Titus, sweat pouring from his brow, she’d known she had to help the male, but fear had clawed through her. At that time, they hadn’t known Titus was an SR44ian, and this would be her first dealing with a human.
Following Justice into an empty bedroom, her nerves had rattled as she’d assessed the situation. The male had been in terrible shape with dehydration and the bullet wound that certainly seemed infected.
Justice had argued that if she tried to heal him, he might die as they had no idea how her abilities would affect the human system. She had insisted that she try, because he would die anyway.
To her surprise, she’d found out Titus was one of her own when she’d pushed her energy into him.
The healing had been long and difficult, and she knew she’d almost lost him once or twice. However, her determination to see him healthy again had kept her focused and given her the fortitude to continue.
She conjured up that feeling now and opened her eyes.
“I need you both to leave us,” she murmured to Hudson and Blake.
Blake exchanged worried glances with Hudson. “I think we should stay here.”
On a deep breath, she took a pair of scissors and cut open the front of Titus’ t-shirt, then laid both her hands on his abdomen. They became wet and sticky from the blood. She shut her eyes and focused.
Daniel’s face appeared before her, and she fought to keep him out of her thoughts.
You aren’t a Healer, you’re a killer.
“No, I’m not.”
“You aren’t what?” Hudson asked.
She glanced up at both of them. She couldn’t have them as a distraction, as well—she had too many of her own making.
“Leave!” she shouted, shocked at the force in her voice.
Both seemed surprised, but slowly backed out of the kitchen. She heard them talking in low voices as they walked down the hall.
Shutting her eyes again, she concentrated on Titus. As her energy built, relief flooded through her. She could do this. She had to save her lover’s life.
Chapter 55
Titus came to consciousness slowly, unsure of what had happened or where he was until the pain lanced through his gut. Opening his eyes on a groan, he looked around and realized he was in the gym, and Macy lay next to him, her arms and hands crimson.
“I’m glad to see you awake.”
He turned to see Beverly sitting in chair in a darkened corner. She stood and came to his bedside.
“You were very fortunate, Titus.”
He focused his gaze on the far wall, the memories of the night flooding back.
“Cohen?”
His voice came out dry and gravelly.
“He’s going to be fine.”
“Was he shot?”
She nodded.
He furrowed his brow. If Cohen had been hurt, he hadn’t been able to heal Titus, so that meant Macy must have.
“Macy?” he asked.
She nodded. “If you’re asking if she’s the one responsible for saving your life, the answer is yes. The healing took over four hours, and then she crawled up next to you and passed out. We just wheeled you both down here.”
He turned his head and looked at his savior. Her pale skin looked almost death-like in the low lights and her lips seemed parched, as if she needed a drink. Dark purple bruised her under-eyes, all indicating that healing had taken a lot out of her.
He hated that they both lay covered in his blood, but right now, he didn’t think he could move even if the place caught fire. However, he was alive, and that’s all that mattered.
“I wanted to wait around until you woke up,” Beverly said. “I’ll head to bed now. Once Macy has rested, you’ll be in great hands.”
Titus allowed his lids to fall after he heard the door to the gym close, and
sent up a prayer of thanks to the gods for allowing him to live. How odd to think about his life meaning something when it seemed like just a short time ago, he’d considered suicide at every turn.
Macy had been the one to save him after Micah had shot him, helped him out of his black abyss, and healed him again tonight.
His savior, indeed.
He wondered how she’d overcome her issues with her abilities to be able to save him again.
Just then, she moved, and he turned to her, opening his eyes.
Hers fluttered open and he grinned. “Hey.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she cupped his face with her palm. “Oh, Titus. I’m so glad to see you!”
She kissed him, her tears dripping onto his face.
“I was so scared that I wouldn’t see you again,” she whispered.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
“It truly was touch and go, but I’m happy that you hung in there with me. We saved your life together, Titus.”
He nodded, understanding that she couldn’t do anything without his energy mingling with hers.
“How did you get past your fears? How did you get your healing abilities back?”
She shook her head. “I thought of the first time Justice brought you to us, and how badly I wanted to save you. Then I thought about how much I love you, how much we have to look forward to, and it was just … there.”
He grinned. “So, love saved the day, huh?”
“I guess so.”
They laid in silence for a long time, then Macy spoke.
“I should probably do another healing on you right now, and then we should both get in the bathtub.”
He glanced down at their bodies. Dried blood covered her hands and arms, and she also had it down the front of her sweatpants and sweatshirt. It was crusted on his torso. They looked like something out of a horror movie, and he suddenly felt very dirty.
“Let’s get cleaned up now.”
“No. I need to go in again, Titus. The damage from the bullet was incredibly extensive and I just went through and patched things up. I don’t want you moving and risk any of my work not holding.”
