Sky Ghosts: All for One (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1)

by Engellmann, Alexandra

Chapter 20

  Jane heard the door close behind her as she looked around the room with calm, non-panicked eyes this time. There were a few plastic chairs to her right, now empty, so she took one and followed her sister.

  Pain stood beside Marco’s cot, watching him sleep. Her shoulders were slouched, and her hair was dirty and tangled, tucked behind her ears sloppily. There was a long slash in her jacket sleeve, and her pale and bloody arm showed from under it. She looked lifeless, standing at the bed like this, staring at Marco with a glassy gaze. Jane cast her eyes down at herself, doubting that she looked any different. She wished they had a chance to change into something clean.

  With a long sigh, she pulled her chair up to the cot across from her sister. Some of her wounds were still sore, and she winced, seating herself in it. Probably, she would feel better if she worked on them for a while, but she just didn’t have the energy and focus. She would heal if she just slept, it had always been that way. But she doubted there would be an opportunity for that any time soon. Was it bad that she envied Marco a little? He seemed so peaceful, drifting in his tranquilized dream with his arms placed neatly on the covers.

  “He’s gonna freak when he finds out he missed all the fun,” Pain grumbled, taking his big hand with her small and pale one. She curled her fingers around it, perching herself on the bed’s edge.

  It was strange for her to see him like this, as if nothing had happened. His head was cleaned of the blood, and if not for the bandage under the blanket, no one would guess that just an hour ago he was closer to leaving this world than ever. Every time she closed her eyes, she still could see him bloody and limp in her arms, like the image was stuck to the back of her eyelids. She breathed in and out deeply, letting go of his hand. No, not this time, not today. You’re staying.

  “Seems like he had a lot of fun in that room…” Jane’s voice sounded drawling and weary, and Pain glanced at her. Trashed gear, smeared face, messy hair, it was pretty much like looking in the mirror. She looked back at Marco before answering.

  “Oh, yes. There were layers and layers of bodies,” she gestured, showing them with her hands. Jane smirked. “It was Elena’s room,” Pain added and looked at her sister meaningfully. “He came there on purpose. While everybody was running to the ground floor, he crossed the whole building to get there. He knew she wouldn’t survive the attack otherwise.”

  Jane gave her a sad look. They had seen Elena on the ground floor, and the girl was unharmed. Marco wasn’t.

  Pain spotted a pack of tissues on the bedside table and looked around for a mirror, finding it in the corner across the room.

  “I better go clean myself up a little. Don’t want him to wake up and have a heart attack,” she muttered and got off the bed, grabbing a handful of tissues.

  “Give me some, too,” Jane said and followed her.

  Pain stood before the mirror, staring at herself with half-shock, half-amazement. Now, this might be the worst of her looks up until the moment, she thought. There wasn’t a clean spot on her face. It was brown from the dried blood, black where her mascara was smudged on her eyelids, and streaked at the cheeks where the tears had run. Even her eyes were still red and swollen a little, and there was a long cut across her right cheek, now closed up and pink. She didn’t even remember getting it and didn’t care about healing it.

  “Nice,” she drawled, turning away and coming to a small sink nearby. Seriously, all these powers, and nothing to help her look better? She could heal bones, for God’s sake, why couldn’t she just think of it and look nicer?

  The warm water ran through her fingers, and relief washed over her, making her feel relaxed, liquid. Just the touch of it was helpful, as if the tiny splinters that seemed to pierce all of her nerves turned suddenly into soft bubbles. She rubbed at her cheeks and forehead savagely, using some soap to wash it all off, and then used the tissues to wipe at her face. Jane took her place at the sink without a word.

  “You know, I think we should go out there,” Pain said, trying to wipe off the smudged mascara while leaving some of her ruined makeup intact. Maybe she looked sloppy, but at least she didn’t look like a little girl, with no eyeliner and all. Jane only mumbled something into the water, so she continued. “Pay them a not-so-friendly visit. Chop off some heads, scare some shit out of them so they wouldn’t be so cocky next time they decide to attack us. Just kill some and get back inside, what do you think? Chad’s safe here. Well, as safe as he can be,” she shrugged, unsure, and turned back to the mirror. A little better, she thought, though the scratch on her cheek now stood out irritated and red. Whatever, she tossed the balled up tissues to the trash.

  “I don’t know…” Jane sounded doubtful. “Who will go? Almost everyone’s here!” she threw up her hand, pointing at the wounded fighters around. One of them turned his head and looked at her, and she lowered her voice. “Sorry, Brad. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get any more of our guys injured or killed,” she finished and looked at her sister.

  “Nobody’s gonna get killed,” Pain retorted, matter-of-factly. “We have Skull. He alone can shred a dozen Beasts per minute, but he needs space. Ryan, and Greg for backing him up. I saw Luke and Chris, and since Zac was wounded, I think he’d gladly get some revenge. Phoenix is somewhere there, too. Though I only saw him come out once… Guess he’s fine slaughtering them by himself, but he could be back by now.”

  “Yeah? And who’ll talk to him, you?” Jane enquired in a mocking voice. Phoenix never talked to them, really. And he gave them the creeps. The heavy-artillery sort of creeps.

  “I’ll do it.” Pain crossed her arms in an assuring gesture. “I can talk to him, yes.”

  “Really?” Jane narrowed her eyes at her, and she sighed, exasperated.

  “Actually, I could ask Skull to talk to him…” she added under her breath, and Jane nodded, confirming her cowardice. “Well, I was going to talk to him myself! I’m just not sure he’ll go with us if it’ll be me. I kinda stuck my knife in him that one time, remember?” She made a face.

  Jane only sighed, as if she couldn’t decide if Pain’s idea was useful or reckless. Hinges squealed, and a door opened in one of the walls. It must have led to the nurses’ room. One of them stepped out of it now, carrying a metal tray with jars and bottles of all kinds. She headed to one of the beds, careful not to spill anything…

  And then the room shook so hard that she sprawled on the floor with the jars scattering around her. The sisters bent down, their hands over their ears, their shoulders pressed to the wall in an attempt to stay on their feet. The sound was deafening, and through her palms Pain could hear shouts and exclamations of the fighters that woke up, frightened. Even as it ceased, there was a ringing in her ears, but she raised her head to look around in angry bewilderment.

  “What the hell!!” she snarled and dashed to the exit door with her head and shoulders white from the fallen plaster.

  Jane ran after her, tossing the tissues that she still kept in her hand to the floor. There were shouts and commotion on the other side, and Pain was afraid of even imagining what was going on there.

  She stabbed at the button nervously, muttering,

  “Open, open, open!” But nothing happened, the door must have been damaged during the explosion. She slammed her palm angrily into it. “Damn! It’s stuck!”

  “Did Eugene just break the Code?” Jane asked incredulously, watching her war with the door. Pain threw herself against it, her shoulder sending a protesting shot of pain through her body.

  “Unless one of the coffee machines has exploded,” she muttered grimly between one strike and another and pressed at the button again. The door didn’t open. She exhaled loudly and tried again – one, two, three times – with no result. Her shoulder felt like one big bruise, and Jane took her hand, stopping her.

  “Let’s do it together, come on,” she backed a few steps.

  Pain joined her, and together they ran up and hit the door with their feet. It bulged a little, and Pai
n ran to the button and pressed her finger into it so hard it hurt. This time the door slid away with a loud grating sound, and the girls rushed through it, leaving behind the shocked nurses and their panicked patients.

  They stopped short, though, seeing instantly that it was too late. Pain’s face went very still. In the light from the infirmary she could see the chair where Chad had sat just a few minutes ago – it was empty now. Her katana lay under it. She picked it up mechanically, then put the weapon at its place, her expression not changing its resigned blankness.

  “They took him…” she heard Jane’s remote voice behind her and fumbled in her pockets, looking for a flashlight. Dave, they had to find Dave, he was somewhere else last time she saw Chad, she thought. But all she saw in her mind’s eye was Chad’s face, frowned and confused, right after his Initiation.

  Something broke in her chest at the thought of him, and she took a deep, long breath. The place smelled of smoke and plaster, and dust motes danced in the air, obstructing her vision. She finally found her flashlight and pressed the button. A bright light flared up, illuminating the fighters that were scattered around the room, their faces shocked and pale. Some of them were on their feet already, helping the others to get up, shaking off the dust. And then there was Peter, unconscious near the wall.

  “Peter…” Pain dashed to him, the ray of her flashlight dancing in front of her as she ran.

  Peter moaned weakly, stirring as she and Jane kneeled beside him.

  “Are you okay??” Jane asked when his eyelids trembled and he looked at them, squinting at the light.

  “I’m fine, just leave me,” he muttered and lay back down on the floor with a painful grimace.

  Jane stared at her hand that came out bloody from where she had touched his head.

  “But you’ve wounded your head!” she protested, and seeing this, Pain bent over him and slid her hands under his arms. He didn’t try to get up.

  “I’ll live,” he objected hoarsely. “Forget me, help Ryan,” his hand pointed somewhere behind their backs, and they turned their looks there.

  Pain moved her flashlight, scanning the room, but there was no Ryan anywhere. She frowned and looked at the faces around them again, from the beginning. What the…

  And then the blown up door caught her attention. She stopped her flashlight on it, staring at the single visible hand in disbelief. No, it couldn’t be Ryan. He didn’t have such long, slim fingers…

  She jumped to her feet, catching a glimpse of Jane’s astonished face. In a heartbeat they seized the door and lifted it, as if it were made of cardboard. It really was Ryan lying under it with his arm covering his face. They dropped the door to the side, and a loud banging resounded off the walls, startling everybody for a second.

  Immediately, the fighters began to gather around them, peering at Ryan’s unmoving body, asking questions. Pain didn’t hear any of them as she kneeled by his side. She glanced only once at Jane, who sat across from her at his other side and stared at him without blinking. Pain touched his forearm – it was clearly broken, so she slid her hand under it, her fingers searching for the pulse.

  “Is he alive?”

  “Is he breathing?”

  “There’s blood, his head is wounded!” Voices mixed together around her, but her sister was silent, and Pain was afraid of looking at her as she waited for the feeling of pulse under her index finger. She didn’t want Jane to see it in her face if there was none. A few seconds stretched out like an hour, until finally she exhaled with relief.

  “He’s alive.” She withdrew her hand. “He’s breathing, Jane, come on,” she waved for her to move closer and touched Ryan’s scarlet-colored hair. There really was a pool of blood under his head, and she paused, not sure what to do.

  “Don’t move his head,” someone said at her left, and she turned, finding Doc there. His glasses were askew, his hands smeared with blood, but he wasn’t wounded. He touched Ryan’s wrist, adding, “I’ll take care of him, you bring Peter to the infirmary and find a free bed.”

  With a stiff nod, she got up and stepped aside, gesturing for Jane to follow. Someone took her place at Ryan’s side; he was tall and broad, carrying a stretcher under one of his arms like it was a notepad, no more. Skull, she guessed, and turned around heading back to Peter. Jane walked by her side with her face still set into a stressed-out grimace.

  Peter was sitting upright, his back propped up against the wall. The emergency lights blazed to life one by one, and the place got filled with an eerie red illumination. There was a fresh breeze suddenly. Pain looked to her left and saw the night sky through the wrecked doorway, far, far away, black and peaceful. They’re still somewhere there, she thought. Out loud she said,

  “They took both of them,” her voice was edged heavily, and Jane gave her a strained look. She seemed to be unable to talk at the moment, so she just nodded as they both squatted by Peter.

  “We’re going to take you to the infirmary,” Pain said, reaching out for him. “Here, lean on me.” She slid her hand under his back, offering him her shoulder.

  “I’m okay,” he waved her off and got up on his own, too abruptly, because in the next moment he swayed toward the wall. The sisters were at his sides right away, keeping him upright and dragging him to the light by the infirmary door.

  “You must have had a concussion, you’re not okay. We’re gonna get you in there, you’ll lie down, and Doc will do whatever he has to do, and you won’t be a trouble. Do you hear me, you old stubborn man?” Pain enquired, her voice stern and patronizing. Peter only chuckled weakly.

  They were already in the doorway, and one of the fighters got off his bed and moved to a chair. The sisters hurried there and lowered Peter onto the cot. Pain fumbled in her memory for the guy’s name and failed. She turned to him anyway, her face concerned.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded and switched his worried look to Peter.

  He lay on the bed and gazed at the sisters dizzily.

  “Wow, you look so alike from upside down, like I’m seeing double.” He smiled weakly and closed his eyes.

  “Don’t.” Jane touched his shoulder. “Don’t close your eyes, you should stay conscious,” she said in a trembling voice.

  His eyelids lifted slowly, and they both saw that something had changed in his look. It was grave now, indescribably thoughtful and sad.

  “Eugene broke the Code. He trashed our home, killed our men. He’s insane. All I want is to stop him, once and for all, make him regret he ever sent his fighters here- ”

  “To kill him?” Pain suggested.

  “To cut him in two halves and wind his guts all over the Brooklyn Bridge, whatever.” He grimaced, and for a moment they could see Peter-the-fighter in his eyes, the one that had chosen this life a long time ago, that fought and never lost until now. “Just him, no one else. And I’m stuck here. Useless,” he whispered bitterly, and without thinking, Pain stepped around the bed and took his right palm because the left one was already in Jane’s hands. “I’ve failed you all. I was so unprepared for this. I won’t be surprised if after this night everybody will break their contracts and find a better place for themselves- ”

  “Stop it!” Pain cut him off, squeezing his hand in hers. “You’re not useless, you’re wounded! Nobody will leave, and nobody thinks it’s your fault!” she said in a harsh whisper as people scurried and hustled around them.

  “Maybe not, but they’re still afraid. Nobody will stand against Eugene anymore…” He shook his head slightly, wincing at the pain the motion had brought.

  “We will,” Pain and Jane said in unison and glanced at each other, confused. Pain looked back to Peter. “There’s no point in worrying about it right now. We’ll figure this out, just get some rest, will you?” Her eyebrows flicked up, and Peter sighed and squeezed his eyes shut in a silent agreement.

  Once again, Doc materialized at the bed, startling her. He was the only one able to sneak up on her, and she s
tepped aside, letting him get closer to Peter.

  “How do you feel? Any vertigo, nausea?” Doc asked him, peering into his eyes and taking his pulse.

  “Some vertigo, nausea,” Peter responded in Doc’s voice.

  “Still have your sense of humor, good,” Doc approved. “You’ll be alright, but you have to stay in bed. Tiffany will take care of your head. Now roll onto your side…” his voice got lost in the commotion as the girls stepped back and left the infirmary, hesitant and equally unsure what to do now and where to go.

  As they came outside, Pain felt nauseated and dizzy herself. Suddenly, she was disgusted with all this, bone-tired and hollowed up, only the feeling of cold despair left and gripping her insides in a sickening grasp. She paused, breathing in and out deeply and trying not to look at what was going on around her – men hurrying to and fro, the red lights giving them a grim cast, making the place look like a scene from some horror movie. There was a sudden touch on her shoulder that almost made her jump.

  “Hey, I forgot I wanted to check on Ryan,” Jane said by her side, unaware of her condition.

  “Right,” she heard herself saying, “You go, I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll go upstairs.”

  “Okay,” Jane responded, sounding confused. She turned and disappeared behind the infirmary door again.

  Pain didn’t move from her spot.

  Why didn’t she go with her sister? Ryan was hurt badly. Head injuries were dangerous, and she didn’t know if the rest of him was alright. That door, she didn’t really remember if it was heavy, thanks to the adrenaline rush, but no doubt it could have killed Ryan, the thing so damn massive. Why wasn’t she there, with him? She loved him just as she loved Marco, and Jane was so worried about him. She knew there was some kind of a connection between them since the day he showed up.

  Someone bumped into her in the semidarkness and cursed. She just pressed silently to the wall, letting him pass. Without thinking, she began to walk to the staircase slowly, the events of this too-long night filling her mind against her will. And that was when she realized why she wasn’t in the infirmary with Jane and Ryan and the others. She just didn’t have anything left for that, for seeing Ryan wounded, too. It was like she had spent all of her emotions struggling through these few hours, like there was no energy for feelings inside her anymore because it all was too much. Now she could only move and cast around and hope that no one would try talking to her.