by Casey Lane
This couldn’t be a piece of my past, could it?
“Do you know Latin?” I asked.
“What? What are you babbling about?” the man asked as he gritted his teeth on the ground before me. It confused me, throwing me off balance.
“I…I think I know you.” I stared at him in confusion.
“Viderunt te.” He muttered right before he lunged forward and grabbed at my gun. He knocked me to the ground, and we rolled over each other until the weapon went off and we both froze in place. I fought to stand, barely able to raise my weapon.
“What does that mean?” I asked, half out of breath.
He laughed at me and his joyful expression faded.
I narrowed my eyes. “I absolve you of your sins.” I choked out with a little blood.
“Please, hound, release me.”
“I…I’m sorry,” I said, trying my best to remain standing as my vision blurred and a strange ringing welled up in my ears. My head ached, and muffled whispers rose up all around me.
“What, who’s there?” I asked as shadows started to dart all around me. My arm weakened, and my heartbeat lumbered in my chest. The sweat rose on the surface of my skin, bringing with it a feeling of nausea causing my stomach to churn. I placed a bloodied hand over it and coughed again. A trickle of blood escaped my lips and rushed down my chin. I could taste the iron.
“Do it, do it, do it!” the man growled and began to lunge at me again, but Rin swooped in and stabbed him through the heart, pinning his body to the roof of the building. The man gasped and then his body relaxed with the most peaceful look on his face. I stared at my gun as Rin turned and looked me over.
“Did you not have your blade?” he asked.
I said nothing as I dropped the gun and stared at him in confusion.
“Red!”
My eyes lifted and locked onto his.
“What?” I asked.
“Your blade? If your gun will not do, you must use your blade. It will do the job just as well.”
“I remember this gun, we have a past, don’t we?” I asked. My memory glitched and I could see myself holding it, and the fear rushed over me. I trembled, and my bottom lip quivered.
I parted my lips and then felt faint. I swayed on my feet. My heartbeat slowed, and Rin rushed in and caught me right before I hit the ground. His soft eyes cradled me.
He stared at the bullet wound that rested right below my ribs in horror.
“You’ve been shot.” He said, and I grinned, and then coughed up some more blood.
“Ironic isn’t it? I mean, to be taken out by your own weapon. You…you were right; I totally suck at this, Dorin.”
“Red, Red…” Rin called out to me as it echoed in my ears. My thoughts wandered, my heart continued to slow. Rin touched my cheek and captured a tear.
“Please stay with me.” He whispered.
I grinned. “So you do like me.”
He pulled me in. “You know it’s much more than that, Red. Much more.”
“Now you tell me?” I laughed and then winced in pain.
He gasped. “I was never good with timing.”
I tried to speak to him as my bloody hand lifted to his face. Finally, I was able to suck in enough air to choke out a few words.
“Absolve me, please. Forgive me of my sins.” I groaned then couldn’t catch my breath. I didn’t remember death or what brought me to its doorstep, but I could tell that the end was coming now, hard and fast.
“No,” he said as he shook me. “No.” he repeated. “Red, I forbid you from doing this.”
I grinned through bloodied teeth.
“Stop trying to control everything.”
“Red.” He leaned in close to my face, and I felt his cold lips press against mine.
“Now?” I choked out through laughter.
“Again, I admit that my timing is terrible.”
“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about commitment.”
“What?” he asked as his eyes widened in horror.
I tried to laugh, but the pain overtook me.
My eyes fluttered, and everything faded to black.
Chapter Two
One year and seven days ago.
I gingerly fingered at the bruise on my wrist as a flickering light sputtered overhead, raining down shards of imitation sunlight that left my skin pale and lifeless. I flipped my hand over and studied the thinning veins running just under the surface. My thumb slid along the remnants of an old scar. Something I had attempted long ago. Luckily for me, the truth about my past had been hidden, or I would have never been able to become a nurse here at Mercy General. My brother was amazing in this way. He always thought ahead, being ten years my senior. When I decided to cut myself, he had rushed me away to one of his labs and took great care of me until we found the right cocktail of medication to get me back on my feet. It took a year, one of the darkest times of my life.
The crackling above me preempted a sharp hissing sound that ended with a dramatic pop. I flinched, and the light faded, disrupting the illumination on the surface of my skin. The scar faded, the feeling remained.
Three nurses passed me by while the most vocal of the group spoke with authority. “He’s so hot, Melissa. Ask him out, seriously. I heard he isn’t dating her...” She paused when she spotted me. The other two laughed, well, more like giggling. Very girly, very unlike me.
Her hazel eyes lingered on me for much longer than I preferred. I faked a smile, and the three of them remained huddled together, clutching files to their chests. They moved along like a pack of wild dogs. The shortest of the three glanced back at me, confirming my suspicions.
They were talking about me.
I used to think that this was the worst that life had to offer. All these small reminders of my bad decisions, some hidden, and some laid out for all to see, but that’s a lie.
Regret is the worst thing of all.
It festers like a disease in the mind and manifests itself as something life-threatening. Eating away at everything around you, and within.
The things we meant to say.
The things we wanted to do.
The words that should have been spoken with heartfelt meaning.
Like the ones I robotically spewed out at my brother’s funeral five months ago amidst a debilitating panic attack. Somehow I managed to work through it.
Don’t celebrate my ability to conquer it that day. It doesn’t warrant mentioning. I faked it, as I do most things and I don’t deserve any praise or sympathy.
He died. I’m still living. That defies explanation.
I don’t value my life as he did. Hence the scars across my wrists.
He loved life. He loved helping people. He had worth. I just stumble along from one day to the next leaving a trail of broken relationships and misguided attempts at piecing together my purpose in this life. He knew, probably from birth, that he would make a huge impact on this world and that he did.
He created a network of labs that were on the verge of curing some of the most threatening of diseases against humanity. Cancer, counted among them. He named it Project Halo, after me.
He had asked me, again and again, to come work for him…well, alongside him, but I kept my distance and worked my job here at Mercy General. I regret it now. I could have spent more time with him the past two years, but then again, would it have hurt more when he died to have been even closer to him than I already was?
My thoughts returned to that day in the church. I could have done a better job, but instead, I stood there in the pulpit, shifting my stance and shuffling through cards with gibberish scribbled on each one of them. I paused with quivering lips and shaken resolve, tapping the cards against my fingers until the inevitable paper cut forced me to curse under my breath. I sucked on my fingertip, tasting the iron as the sweat rose on my skin and the room tilted on its axis. My anxiety had taken center stage when nothing about me should have been placed in the starring role.
It wa
s his day, not mine.
His.
My brother was a shining light in the darkness. He helped me survive when survival seemed impossible. He stood by me when we buried our mother. Took on the role of mentor and protector when our father was incarcerated and did his best to keep me out of trouble when I refused to care about my wellbeing. He loved me like no one else had in this world, and when they rushed him into Mercy General after he fell from the top of a building that he was inspecting, I lost all feeling in my body, and my heart stopped beating, as did his.
Griffin, or Fin as I called him, always had to be so hands on with everything. He had no business being up there inspecting the construction of his latest lab, the biggest venture he had embarked on as of yet, which sat downtown as a constant reminder of his brilliance.
All this training and yet I had nothing to offer him. I was helpless. I did nothing but cry. I couldn’t bring myself to even sit with his body well after the time of death was called. Instead, I left and shut down. I cut all ties. I broke up with my boyfriend, stopped eating, and stopped caring. I stopped everything, including the medication that I took every single day that Fin had prescribed to me.
I remember glancing up a few times and seeing the many faces distorted with grief. Every single one of us strangers united in the large cathedral that both my brother and I had been baptized in. The same place where I found and lost my faith.
Found it when my brother asked me to give faith a chance six rows back from the front after I cut myself.
Lost it as they carried his coffin out under the darkening sky.
I felt that terrible numbness spreading out to each limb. A defense mechanism that I had perfected over the years to block the pain. I pressed harder against the bruise and groaned. These tiny moments reminded me that I could still feel something, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.
A familiar voice broke through the clutter in my mind, forcing my bright green eyes onto the approaching shadow that materialized into a gentle smile cradled in a chiseled jaw that was now shadowed with stubble threatening to become a beard. I wouldn’t mind. The beard, I mean. My brother had one that often went from scruffy to well-kept, depending on his mood.
“Hey, Halo, it’s good to see you back behind this desk.” His voice soothed me.
I haphazardly jerked my sleeve down to conceal the yellowing ring, shoving both hands into my lap. My eyes lingered on his mouth. Full and ripe. Always welcoming.
David Weller.
He was a casualty of war. I broke it off with him when my brother died.
He stopped in front of the desk and leaned in, slipping me a Hershey’s candy bar with almonds in it. My favorite. Craving his attention was something I allowed to linger when I knew that I shouldn’t. It made me feel special. The way he looked at me, talked to me…treated me, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Well, my brother paid attention to me, but of course, that was different.
I crossed my arms and tucked my hands into my sides. Even the harsh lighting in the ER couldn’t quell his good looks. He was slightly tan whereas I looked like a ghost when compared to him. Old memories flickered in my mind, and I could see him holding his arm next to mine, comparing skin tones, as we lay in my oversized bed. His smile lingered as well as his scent. He wore something woodsy that calmed my nerves.
I cleared my throat after a blink or two to wipe away the happy memory. “Hey, David. Thanks for this, I appreciate it.” I replied. The nervous smile curled the edge of my full lip. He always made me feel things that I shouldn’t feel.
Hopeful.
Hope isn’t something I could bank on. Especially now.
Finally, I eyed the sweet offering on the white counter that stood between us. I reached out and fingered at the candy bar as two nurses rushed by. I could hear the buzzers going off down the hall, and I knew that it meant another poor soul was about to depart this world. They say you get used to it, but the absence of empathy is a frightening thought. I never wanted to get used to death.
But why bother. Death will always find me.
I turned my attention back to David, who had spotted the bruising on my wrist. I cleared my throat and tucked my long red hair behind my ear, hurriedly jamming both hands into the deep square pockets of my light blue scrubs, concealing the candy bar along with a subject I didn’t want to discuss.
He placed his open hand on the counter and rubbed it back and forth while he contemplated his next words. I noticed the indent from his old wedding band on his left hand. David had been married for three years, and she had died in a terrible accident on the way to work. It had happened long before we dated but that permanent mark on his finger, and in his heart, would always be there. It made him vulnerable, and I guess his vulnerability both attracted and repelled me.
He half whispered. “You deserve better, Halo.” His mocha brown eyes lifted and locked onto mine. The words sank into me and positioned themselves somewhere between anger and guilt. Of course, he was right, I did deserve better, but could I accept it? No. Those old verbal sparring sessions with my Dad lingered in my mind, subduing my ability to accept love, in any form.
So, naturally, I ignored his concern. “Shouldn’t you be off, David?” I asked with the tilt of my head.
He stared at me for a moment longer and then abandoned the subject without much coaxing. I won’t lie. I cared about David, but his inability to fight back bored me.
When you grow up fighting for everything you have, you can’t suddenly switch gears and find complacency appealing, and that’s why our relationship failed, along with the help of the loss of my brother. I’m sure of it.
I thrived on danger and not knowing what was going to happen next.
With David, I knew.
I knew we would wake up and he would offer a good morning kiss. I knew that he would make the coffee. I knew that he would leave my cup sitting on the bathroom sink as I showered. I knew everything would be the same. Day after day, week after week.
I hated myself for not allowing him to stay.
I hated myself for thinking that I didn’t deserve him.
I hated myself even more for breaking it off as I had after Griffin died.
I gave David no explanation, and he hadn’t asked. Another reminder of just how amazing he was and how ridiculously ill-prepared I was to be with someone like him.
It was doomed from the start, with or without tragedy intervening.
He took a slow breath and scanned the hallway. “I took on another shift, we had a call in, and it’s been crazy as hell tonight.” His eyes landed back on me. “Plus, there’s you,” he added with a grin that exposed his perfectly straight white teeth.
I parted my lips. I was so close to asking him if he wanted to grab a coffee when our shift ended. He must be a glutton for punishment, and I, a foolish dreamer. Luckily, I was interrupted when another gurney flew through the automatic doors. This one had a dark haired woman, who looked to be in her mid-twenties, strapped down on it. She was desperately struggling to break free of her restraints. I could see the traces of blood on her white button down collar. She thrashed her head back and forth, eyes wild and dilated as she spoke incoherently. Her medium length wiry brown hair lay in disarray on top of her head, matted in drying blood. Once she reached the counter, she turned and glared at me. Her whole body tensed up, and everything slowed down to a snail’s pace in the room.
Her face contorted and her blackened eyes locked onto mine. “You can’t hide, no one can, Halo. They see you. They see all of us!” She hissed at me like a snake about to strike. I narrowed my eyes and spotted the puncture wounds on her neck and a large bite to her thigh. It appeared as if she may have been mauled by an animal. They rushed her along and through the two large doors. Three full swings and she disappeared out of sight, along with the EMT’s running alongside her.
Her muffled screams echoed in the distance, and I felt lightheaded. I stumbled, and David caught my elbow and held me up from across the counter
. I would’ve hit the floor without his thoughtful intervention.
“Hide from who?” I muttered under my breath.
“What?” he asked in confusion.
I blinked a couple of times as my knees refused to lock into place. “I…did you hear her?” I asked as I pointed down the hallway. My hand trembled uncontrollably.
David never took his eyes off me. “Hey, hey, look at me.”
I took a slow breath and the room tilted. I could feel the sweat welling up at the base of my neck and down my spine. My temperature rose and then plummeted, leaving a shiver behind.
He leaned in and shook his head. “Are you okay?” he asked while his gentle eyes inspected me.
“I, I don’t know,” I whispered through a clenched jaw.
“You should get looked at.” His words echoed in my mind along with a strange ringing that had been plaguing me for days.
I shook my head and along with it, shifted my body to break his hold on my arm. “No—no, I’m fine.” I swallowed hard and fought back the sudden onset of nausea. I fingered at the lump between my eyebrows, squeezing until the ringing in my ears subsided.
He leaned forward with heartfelt conviction. “You don’t look fine, Halo. You’re sweating and really pale. There’s a flu going around, that’s why I took this shift. Maybe you have it.”
I bit my lip and peered down at the file on my desk. I ran the tip of my finger along the stiff edge of it and lied without hesitation. “I’m good. You should go, David.” I gave it a quick tap.
He stood up straight and lingered for a moment longer. “At least have someone look at your wris…”
I interrupted him. “I’m fine. I’ll see ya around, k? Oh, and thank you for the chocolate.” I jiggled the candy bar between us with my other hand, pretending like nothing had happened.
“Halo, I saw it.”
I glanced upward. “Could you track down maintenance and tell them about this light? It’s the wiring, not the bulbs. This is the third one in three days. They all blow out, and it’s ridiculous. It could be a fire hazard.”
