by Amy Cook
Amiel jumped off, rolling her head around on her neck and shaking out her arms. Harley watched her with that same crooked grin he wore when he thought she was doing something particularly goofy. The smile quickly wiped away when her fingers rose to touch the tags as they reached a higher burn level.
“Okay, we need to start makin’ some observations. We gotta figure how far away they are when the tags tingle, how far away they are when the tags take over. Are they just warnin’ ya now, or have they moved into takeover?”
“They are just tingl— ah!” She gasped, falling to her knees.
“I’ll take that for takeover mode now,” Harley muttered. Pulling off her helmet, he pushed one strap into Amiel’s hand for her to hold. Lifting her chin, he slipped the glasses down her nose just enough to be able to meet her gaze. He looked deep into her pain-glazed eyes.
“I’ll hold them off till ya get in your groove, Hybrid. But no kickin’ Amiel outta her head to do it.” Amiel felt a jarring in her mind, a grating sensation, one that Harley felt easily through their current connection. His eyes hardened, a growl issuing from his lips.
“You heard me. Let her stay.” He pushed the glasses back in place, then turned to drop into a protective stance in front of Amiel. Rabids surged into the street ahead, and Amiel plummeted into blackness.
Chapter 25
Harley
The scream ripped from Amiel’s throat at his back. The Rabids ahead faltered a step before rushing forward with renewed vigor. Harley began chucking his throwing knives, turning the Hybrids into pin cushions as they rushed forward. He aimed to slow them down, not kill them. As hard as it was, Amiel needed to be the one to kill them; he just had to keep them back until she was ready. Awareness prickled along his skin as she rose behind him, her hand trailing up his back and across his ribs as she stepped around him.
“I’ll take it from here.” She spoke, voice like black velvet. Harley’s eyes shifted toward hers, and he frowned. She didn’t give him a chance to speak, immediately springing into action. Rabid after Rabid fell to Amiel as she sprang from one body to another, weapons and helmet working deadly magic. Five Rabids were disposed of in as few minutes. She rose from her crouched position, turning toward him with a grin of satisfaction.
“Finally! It feels like forever since I have stretched my legs.”
Harley’s frown deepened. “You didn’t let her stay,” he accused. Amiel’s smile disappeared.
“I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“She cannot handle it.”
Harley’s eyes narrowed. “Who says?”
“Me. I have been her companion for long enough to know. My very being dictates that I cannot let her come to destruction: of body or soul. She cannot fight, because she cannot handle the emotional distress. She will crumble and we will both die.”
“I say y’all ain’t givin’ her enough credit. How can ya know how she’ll react, when ya haven’t even given her the chance?”
“I have not allowed her to stay,” Amiel’s Hybrid conceded. “But she has seen. I have allowed her the memories of our fights in her dreams. She awakens terrified, her heart rate is elevated to dangerous levels, and she is in a state of distress and guilt that would be unacceptable in a true fight. She cannot take the pain. Not yet.”
“That’s because she doesn’t know what’s goin’ on. Those memories hit her outta nowhere; she can’t protect herself in her dreams.”
The Hybrid flashed darkly in the crisscross formations of color in Amiel’s eyes. “She cannot protect herself in waking hours, either. I do that.”
“This is her body. She has a right to know, to be aware of what she’s doin’!” Harley argued angrily. A saucy grin returned, stretching Amiel’s features in a disconcerting way. It was Amiel, yet not. She sidled up to his side, staring up at him with large, dark eyes. He breathed out evenly as she pressed against his arm.
“We share this body.”
“Wrong,” Harley ground out. “It’s hers and hers alone. Y’all just get to come along for the ride.”
Her eyes blinked in surprise and, to Harley’s wonder, hurt. She lifted her chin, Amiel’s trademark stubbornness shining through in that one movement.
“Perhaps. But I protect her. I keep her safe. And if that means taking control of her body, I will do it. Every. Time.” She leaned closer. “She was mine to protect before she was yours.”
Harley’s fists clenched, but she was right. Territorially speaking, the tags had been with Amiel long before he was. Yet that didn’t make it right. And it didn’t make his claim on Amiel any less.
“She is mine as well: my friend, my charge. But mostly, she is her own self. And you ain’t takin’ that from her,” Harley growled.
“And who will stop me?” The blacks of her eyes suddenly shrank back to normal pupils, and Amiel wobbled, flopping over into his arms. Harley fumed that the Hybrid had left before he could reply. But what could he say? How could he stop her? There was nothing he could do. Force was obviously out of the question. Perhaps he would have to try a different route.
Amiel stirred in his arms, nose pressing to his chest to breathe deeply before pulling away enough to look into his eyes. He wiped the frustrated expression from his face, anger melting with her groggy grin.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi, yourself.” He smirked. Her face suddenly clouded with confusion.
“I feel… frustrated… yet oddly smug.”
Harley chuckled, knowing those sensations were leftover emotion from her Hybrid side and the argument they had just had. Amiel looked at the ground, eyes widening along with her smile.
“I did it! Well… we did it?” She struggled for a proper way to refer to her Hybrid, and Harley frowned. Without the Hybrid tags, Amiel would have been dead long ago. Yet he didn’t approve of the way they took over Amiel’s life, or their growing confidence in doing so. For now they seemed to have Amiel’s best interest at heart. But how long would that last?
“What are you frowning about?” Amiel poked his nose playfully. Harley jerked from his thoughts, looked down at the small girl in his arms. Looking into her eyes, he knew he would find a way to get Amiel’s life back. He had to. He’d find a way to stop the world from turning if it meant saving her.
“I’m hungry. I get grumpy when I’m hungry.” He grinned. “Let’s call it a night and get somethin’ to eat. I’ve got some delicious frozen meals back at the gym.” He winked, and Amiel burst out in a peal of laughter. It warmed his heart, thawed the ice that had taken residence since the arrival of the Hybrid in her eyes. He wished he could pass over this next step, but it was something important she had to learn in this new life of hers.
“But first. Important lesson of Hybrid 101.” Assured she could stand on her own, he moved to reach in his side bags, producing a small can of gasoline. He handed it to her, and she stared at it uncertainly.
“Douse the bodies. We gotta burn ’em so the risk of infection spreadin’, or drawin’ more Rabids to their scent when we leave, is negated.”
She stared hesitantly at the bodies on the ground. And suddenly Harley knew the first steps to take toward helping Amiel reclaim her life. He stood taller, walking to her side. She needed to gain confidence in herself, her own strength and actions.
“Amiel, I know it feels wrong. I know it feels like it’s goin’ against your humanity, burnin’ ’em. But it’s gotta be done.” He grabbed her shoulders, turning her toward him so that she met his gaze. “Think of it this way. These people had their lives ripped away from ’em. They never got a proper burial, or a way to peace. Now they have peace…”
“And this is their burial.” Understanding flared in her eyes with the new perspective. And in the current of their shared gaze, he could feel her resolve hardening, strengthening. That’s my girl, he thought to himself with pride as she walked forward. With a humbling gentleness, Amiel poured the gasoline over their bodies. Harley pulled out his lighter, but paused when Amiel gently clasped h
is hand.
“Allow me, please.”
Harley silently handed her the Zippo, watching as she flicked open the lid and lit the flame. But she didn’t immediately ignite the bodies. His heart shuddered slightly as he saw her eyes glistening with proud tears, lips parting to speak a eulogy of sorts for the dead.
“I carried the flame for my brother. Now I carry the flame for you. I do not know who you were. But I pray that you now find peace. Sleep well.” She bent, the flames immediately roaring to life. Amiel stood vigil, watching the flames burn for a long moment. When she turned back to him, the smile was fully in place.
“I know my purpose now, Harley. I’ve been thinking of this in the wrong light. I am not the bringer of death, but of peace.”
Harley wrapped an arm around Amiel, crushing her to him. “You’re an angel, kid,” he murmured against her hair. They held each other for a long moment, Harley finding it difficult to let her go. She was something else, this miraculous girl that was thrown so haphazardly into his life. The way she looked at life was beautiful.
A thought occurred to him then. Maybe he and the Hybrid tags were not so different, when it came to their goals for Amiel. They both just wanted to protect, preserve, Amiel’s golden heart. But Harley knew something the tags didn’t. Amiel held more strength than all of them combined. And he was determined to help her find that strength, and bring it to the surface. Pulling away, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the bike. He tossed her messy helmet in the side bags before helping her climb on behind him. Amiel leaned close, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cheek to his back.
“Wait a minute,” she said suddenly, leaning to the side to look at his face. “Do you always carry that gas can in your side bags for these situations?”
Harley froze.
“Yes; and an extra in the other side,” he admitted. His Hybrid twitched around inside, squirming under the mischievous intensity of her knowing gaze.
“That means you had extra gas in your bike that whole time, the first night we met. You could have just put it in my bike so I could go to the station myself, and left me without another word. But instead, you took me on your bike, got me gas, and brought my bike back to me later.” She left the unspoken question hanging in the air: ‘Why?’ Harley turned back toward the road, cheeks burning.
“Maybe I’d used it all by then.” He hadn’t. And based off of the warm change in Amiel’s scent, she knew he hadn’t, either. She lay her head against his back once more, and gave him an extra squeeze.
“Well, for the record, I am glad you didn’t just send me on my way.”
“Yeah. Me, too, kid.”
Chapter 26
Harley
“What is your favorite color?” Amiel grinned up at him like a child in the candy store. Harley shook his head, the smile on his face making it hurt. He’d been smiling all night, with the little goofball throwing all sorts of crazy questions at him. She had dived right into the crazy, with questions like “which of your feet is bigger than the other”, and “if you had to choose between having three arms or a green nose, which would you choose?” Where did she come up with this stuff? He’d played along, simply enjoying the thrill it seemed to bring her. Her laugh rang through the alleyways, brightening the early morning hours. They’d been on patrol for two hours, been through three Rabid encounters and at least a hundred questions by this time.
To be fair, for every question he answered, she gave one of her own. For example, her right foot was bigger than the left, and she would choose to have a green nose because she was already clumsy enough with just two arms. He’d jokingly agreed, which earned him a swat, which in turn became another of their famous challenge brawls. He had to admit, he rather enjoyed those now.
“Blue’s my favorite color,” he replied. She was running out of crazy questions and reverting to some of the more normal ones, it would seem.
“Purple is my favorite. But I am rather fond of blue, too. Really deep, icy blues.”
He caught her staring up at him, and she quickly looked away with a blush. What was so embarrassing about liking blue? He waved the thought away. He was thinking into it too much, and girls were weird. That’s all there was to it.
“What is your favorite thing to eat?”
Harley opened his mouth, about to reply with “pancakes”, when a scent suddenly registered with his brain that made it go haywire. Before he could recognize the scent his instincts already knew, pain lanced through his back, up into his brain. Immediately, the immobilizing pain sent him to his knees, his teeth bared in an agonizing, silent scream. He knew this pain well: Foundation.
“Run, Amiel!” he gasped, trying to push her away when she fell to her knees at his side.
“Not so tough now, are you?” A man’s voice drifted toward them, and through the pain, Harley felt he should recognize it. A thud to his right signified the man’s dropping from above them on the roof. That explained how he’d managed to keep his scent masked from Harley this long. But now that he was close, the scent clicked in his mind. He knew the owner of the scent, and he wanted to strangle the guy… but he was helpless to do so. How had Duane come into possession of a Foundation watch?
Amiel gasped, recognizing the man just as Duane offered Harley his first kick to the gut. Harley growled, pushing to one elbow.
“Nope, can’t have that,” Duane mumbled, twisting the knob on the watch to up the pain by what Harley estimated to be two levels. Harley kicked outward, catching the guy off guard. But in his weakened state, he could do little more than trip him. Duane stumbled to the side, cursing as he upped the pain by another two. If he kept this rate of increase up, Harley would be dead in no time.
“Stop it!” Amiel screamed, as though reading his mind. “You’re killing him!”
Harley could feel her panic, her anger, along with her helplessness. He could see the war in her eyes, the sheer need to protect him battling with the sheer fear of confronting the monster that had nearly killed her twice now.
He wanted to reassure her, tell her she was stronger than she thought. To tell her that he wasn’t mad at her for not acting. But it was all Harley could do to stay conscious. If Hybrids had one weakness, it was the devices surgically implanted in their spines. None of them had learned to overcome the pain the way Charleen secretly had. They had come to the conclusion it was simply something in her pure DNA that protected her.
His thoughts drifted slightly before he forced them back on the present. He had to find a way to fight through it, or they were both dead. Amiel finally unfroze, reaching into her jacket for the gun, but Duane was ready.
He yanked a small, black box from his own jacket, and Harley’s heart sank when he realized it was a Taser. The barbs shot out across the distance, lodging in the skin of her chest. She hadn’t had her jacket zipped all the way up, and her suit only went so high. He’d made it that way so it was easier to wear under clothing without being noticed. Now he cursed that decision. Amiel fell to the ground, spasms rocking her body in much the same way his was. Duane sneered down at her, giving her a swift kick in the gut. Harley and his Hybrid alike screamed furiously in the recesses of his mind. Crouching down, Duane grabbed Amiel by the hair, yanking her upward.
“Why do girls always say that? ‘Stop it, you’re killing him’,” Duane mocked Amiel in a high-pitched voice. “Of course I’m killing him. That’s the point. I’m going to kill you, too.” He tossed her glasses on the ground. “Can’t have those getting in the way. I want to see the fear in your eyes tonight.” He dragged her with him toward Harley, arm wrapped tightly around her throat. Amiel’s eyes shifted toward him as the thug knelt over Harley.
“You: you are a pain in my ass. I’ve been dreaming of killing you for so long now. I just didn’t know how I’d accomplish it, until now. Until I found this little doodad.” The thug fiddled with the watch.
“I imagine you’re wondering where I got it.” Duane pulled Amiel clo
ser, speaking in her ear like the creepy perv he was. “Did you know there’s a place called Foundation, some secret facility that creates freaks?” He chuckled, already knowing the answer to that. “Of course you did, you’re buddies with one of them. But I didn’t. No one does!” His eyes shifted back to Harley.
“You’re just a bunch of Halfer freaks that evolved from the Rabids, or some punk-ass gang of kids. That’s what everyone thinks. But none of it’s true. I was on the ‘evolved’ side of thought, until I decided to get drunk last night. And who do you think was my drinking neighbor, other than this dude with crazy gray eyes that works for a place called Foundation.” He shook his head, laughing to himself.
“Finally my luck turned around! We start talking about our shared hatred of Halfers, and he comes up with this crazy story.”
Harley jerked hard as a particularly painful bolt of electricity arced through his body. His eyes blurred, and blood and spit began drooling from his mouth. Duane took notice.
“Guess I better turn this down a bit. Don’t want you dying before I finish my story, do I?”
The pain eased enough that Harley’s mind cleared around the edges. He didn’t let on just how much the pain had eased. He wanted Duane to have a false sense of security. He monitored the progression of the pain ebbing as his muscles loosened the slightest amount, just enough he could breathe.
“So he says to me he’s some specialist at this facility that created the freaks, right? I just blew him off at first; he’s drunk, and drunk people make all kinds of claims that ain’t real. But then he starts bragging about how his fancy little watch brings Halfers to their knees on a daily basis. I didn’t know if it was true, but if it was, I had my key to revenge. I started going through all these ideas on how to take him out to get the watch. Lucky for me, the bastard passed out on the bar right there and all I had to do was take the watch and leave. I didn’t even have to kill him.” He jerked Amiel closer to him when she squirmed, and she gasped in pain, fingers yanking at his arm to no avail.
