Warriors

by Sarah Noffke

Not having a blanket of smoke around me anymore, I open my eyes to see his red hair swim in front of me. This isn’t a hallucination. It’s real.

  “Ren?” I ask, confused.

  “That’s right, luv,” he says with a surprising grin. “I’m here to save the day. You’ll get a bill for it later, but for now what do you say we get the hell out of here? That warehouse won’t keep the fire at bay for long and I’m guessing the authorities will be on their way soon.”

  With a strength I didn’t know he possessed my uncle pulls me through the news station just as another explosion rocks the building. We duck as we head through the door and across the street. We don’t stop in the narrow alley, although my aching lungs need to rest.

  “I have to stop,” I say, my voice raw.

  “Not yet you don’t,” Ren says, flipping his head over his shoulder to ensure we’re not being followed. His steady breaths grow heavier with every step. And then finally he says, “A little farther now.”

  We round a corner. And then another before he lets go of me. Ren doesn’t try to help me stay standing when I slump and fall down against a brick wall. He does stare down at me from his standing position, exhaustion marking the features of his face. “That wasn’t very graceful, was it?”

  “My back,” I wheeze.

  “And you’re not the one looking at the bloody gash on your head,” he says, shivering with repulsion.

  With a shaking hand I reach up, but yank it away before it connects with the searing gash I feel in my head. “I need help.”

  “And I’m trying to get you to that ‘help,’” Ren says with a dramatic sigh. “You’re the one panting and asking for a break.”

  “I almost died,” I say, and then something so heartwarming it almost heals a bit of my pain takes over me. “But you saved me.”

  “Don’t make a big deal of it,” he says with a growl.

  “How?” I ask.

  “I saw smoke coming from the eastern side of the building,” he says, boredom in his tone. “I knew everyone was at the wedding. I put two and two together. Figured out you created the fire and when you didn’t come out of the building I realized right then you were going to spoil my night.”

  “Thanks,” I say dully.

  “You are most not welcome. I don’t like to make a habit of saving people, it creates all sorts of devoted-type behavior.”

  I try to sit up, but my back screams from the effort. “Don’t worry, if you’re dying I’ll let you,” I say, clenching my teeth from the pain.

  “You’re a kind soul, aren’t you?” Ren says and then offers me his manicured hand. “Come on, luv. Let’s get you to where you were off to before you almost killed yourself. The doctor won’t be happy to see you in this state.”

  I give him a questioning look. “You know I’m headed to Parker’s?”

  “I know a lot of things,” he says with a sneaky grimace. “Like that for instance, you’re bitter that Zack’s marrying your sister.”

  I hook my arm around Ren’s shoulder and allow him to manage some of my weight as we trudge down the alley.

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “When is everyone going to realize I see everything?” Ren says smugly. “Like I know you’re in love with the blond currently offering himself up to your sister. And she’s only your half-sister because your mother is naughty. And the blond is absolutely in love with you, but talk about tragic because this isn’t turning out well at all for either of you. But hey, you do have the nice Asian doctor who’s smitten with you.”

  I go to shake my head, but the effect makes me think I’ll pass out. “Fine, you may know a thing or two, but you’re wrong on that last part,” I say, stumbling over my feet.

  “I’m not,” he says, a smile in his voice. “But whatever.”

  “What else do you know?” I say when we stop to check that the street we need to cross to get to Parker’s is clear.

  “I know that the bloody wound on your back has ruined my best suit,” Ren says, pulling me across the wet street. “And I know that you’re going to hate what the doctor has to do to fix your shoulder.”

  “What’s wrong with my shoulder?” I ask, knowing it’s unwise to turn my head to look for myself.

  “It’s dislocated. It’s going to hurt like bloody hell when he resets it,” he says matter-of-factly. “I might even stay and watch.”

  “You’re a sick individual,” I say as I use my last bit of reserves to climb the steps to Parker’s house.

  “Why thank you,” Ren says, pushing the door open and dragging me inside the now familiar house. “Where do you want me to put you?” he asks, scanning the house.

  I think of Parker’s bedroom, and the memory of watching Rogue die there flashes across my memory. “The couch,” I say. Ren doesn’t set me down as much as lets me slide from his grip and topple toward the sofa. Somehow I manage to land on the cushions, although I almost hit the floor. “Thanks,” I say, not meaning it.

  “Don’t mention it. I’m going to pop off to grab some towels. Don’t want you ruining the good doctor’s furniture,” he says and trots down the hallway.

  I teeter back and forth, conscious that the pain has risen to such a gross height that I’m close to passing out from it. It’s then that a chilly draft passes over me. “Hey, Young-chol. Don’t worry, Parker and Soon-hee are fine.” I hope my words put the ghost’s fears to rest at once.

  Ren returns with what looks like old towels stuffed under his arm. He tosses them on the side of the couch and I fall over on them at once, lying on the opposite side of my dislocated shoulder. The gash in my head sears with mind-shocking pain when it connects with the towel-covered couch. A yelp rips out of my mouth.

  “You be sure to rest up,” Ren says, turning and making for the door. “I expect you at the conversion lab on Monday morning.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumble into the couch.

  “Oh, and by the way, luv…”

  With one eye obstructed by the couch I just catch Ren standing in the entryway. “Nice work with burning down the newspaper. Next time try and not get yourself almost killed in the process.”

  “Noted,” I say, my eyes falling closed at once and the world disappearing.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Em!” a frantic voice says. It’s unmistakably Parker’s.

  Twice I try to open my eyes, but they feel melted shut. Finally I achieve the incredibly difficult task and peel one eye open. Parker is squatted down low, staring at me with wide eyes.

  “Hi,” I say, my voice sounding like that of an old woman.

  “You’re hurt…” he says, looking me over.

  “Yep,” I say, rolling over just enough so that my other eye isn’t obstructed by the bloodied towel. It’s then that I’m glad I’m lying down. Otherwise I’d pass out from the room suddenly spinning. I press my eyes shut and wait for my world to right itself.

  “What happened?” Parker says, his voice growing distant. His hurried steps make me think he’s gone off to retrieve something.

  “Newspaper,” is the only word I can manage.

  He returns a few seconds later caring a medical bag. “You did that?”

  “Yep,” I say with a prideful smile that instantly I regret since it somehow makes my head explode with pain.

  “It nearly burned to the ground before the fire department got there. There’s not much left,” he says, pulling supplies out of his bag. “How long were you in there?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say, mystified that I got out a full sentence.

  “We need you to sit up. I want you breathing oxygen,” he says, securing a face mask over my mouth which quickly delivers cool air to my burning lungs. Almost instantly life starts to return to my body, which sadly makes me too aware of my wounds, which all take polite turns screaming for my attention.

  I pull the oxygen mask to the side. Parker is up close, inspecting the gash along the side of my head. “Why do you have all these supplies?” I ask, motioning
to the bag and mini oxygen tank.

  “We’re preparing for a war, aren’t we?”

  “Touché,” I say, pressing the mask back over my mouth.

  “Where else are you hurt?” Parker says, digging in his bag again.

  Using my good arm I point at my back. Parker takes a seat on the sofa beside me and pulls up my shirt. His careful fingers graze my skin, inspecting. He blows out a long breath. “That’s a pretty deep laceration, and the shoulder, it’s…”

  “Dislocated,” I say, my voice muffled under the mask.

  “Yeah,” Parker says, regret in his voice. “But I can give you something for the pain. It will help, but not as much as I would like. Sorry, Em.” He kneels down in front of me, a look of sincere remorse on his face. “But you’ll live and that’s what matters.”

  I reach out with my good arm and squeeze his hand on his knee. “Thanks,” I say. “I’m grateful that I have a doctor friend who can sew me up and put me back together.”

  “Anytime,” Parker says with a wink. He stands and pulls off his suit jacket, which reminds me about where he just came from.

  Shivering from the oxygen I pull the mask completely off. “How was it?” I ask. “The wedding?”

  He turns and gives me a startled expression. “Let’s discuss that later. Right now, I need your full attention. Resetting that shoulder is going to take some cooperation on your part.” Parker rolls up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt and then pulls a pair of shiny metal scissors from the bag.

  My brow wrinkles at the sight of the scissors. “What are those for?”

  “Your shirt,” he says, unable to cover an embarrassed grin. “I’ve got to cut it off.”

  ***

  I only passed out on the first attempt to relocate my shoulder. And it only took Parker two more attempts to get it right. The eight stitches on the side of my forehead and the twenty on my back were a piece of cake after that.

  I awake from a groggy sleep that coats my mind with a coarse ache. The last thing I remember is Parker telling me he had something to do and he’d be close while I slept. Sleep then tore through my consciousness at once, carting me off to a land of strange dreams.

  As I lie on my stomach, my nostrils are assaulted by the smell of smoke. With a loose strand of my hair in my face I recognize there’s no quick way to escape the odor. It’s on me. I test my muscles as I push up to a sitting position. A sticky bandage is strapped to the side of my head. And under a clean shirt is a bandage on my back that makes note of each of my movements. I know at once that painkillers are making movement possible. Hell, the meds are making this moment possible, otherwise I’d probably be passed out from the pain. Still, a groan spills out of my lips when I test my shoulder and find it has an odd click to it upon rotating.

  Parker slips in from the kitchen and leans against the door frame. He crosses an ankle over the other and offers me an amused smile. “And so she stirs,” he says, his voice casual, relaxed.

  “Uh,” I groan, stretching my neck from side to side. “How long was I out?” I say, my voice scratchy.

  “Most of the day,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. For some reason he’s wearing a satisfied grin. Actually he appears a little giddy.

  I flick my eyes at the stained glass window along the door. No light streams through it. It’s night.

  “You aren’t kidding. I slept like six hours.”

  “Eight,” he corrects.

  “Thanks, Dr. Specific.” My mouth is dry and my throat feels on the brink of cracking. Like a genie has just granted my wish I notice a glass of water on the table beside me. I press it to my lips and swallow down its contents in a few quick gulps. Upon bringing the glass down I notice the bloodied towels now ruined that sit in a heap on the floor. “I’m sorry,” I say, “I’m the worst house guest, aren’t I?

  Parker’s grin lights up his eyes. “Yes, but you’re a resilient and brilliant revolutionary.”

  “Thanks.” I say, blushing. “I just knew that the majority of subliminal messages were hidden in the daily newspapers. I’ve got to act fast to get down the other major sources so I can confront the Middlings. I want to start the campaign to recruit them as soon as possible.”

  Parker strolls into the room and takes a seat on the couch beside me. “I hope you at least give yourself the night to rest.”

  “Who needs rest?” I say with a sly smile. “I just slept eight hours.”

  He laughs and it brings a dimple to one of his cheeks. “Well, it’s a good thing I gave you a dose of the immune booster as well as a healing serum. You should be back to your old self in no time, except that shoulder of yours will probably always rattle a bit when you move it. I’m afraid you lost some bone.”

  “To see the look on Ren’s face when he rescued me was worth the injuries,” I say, the memory washing over me. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but he almost looked concerned for my well-being.”

  An easy grin spreads on Parker’s face. “I should have guessed it was Ren. We’ve been trying to piece together how you got here.”

  “We? You mean Nona is here?”

  “No,” he says and there’s a new expression on his face. One of mischief maybe.

  “Yeah, well Ren found me and pulled me out of the burning building,” I say. “He wasn’t brave or cavalier. He was grumpy and reluctant about the whole thing but if it wasn’t for him I’d be dead.”

  “I’m grateful he rescued you,” Parker says, “but he did leave you alone to bleed to death on my couch.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t that bad off.”

  Parker fails to suppress his grin. “No, not to the extent that blood loss was much of an issue. But I’m glad I found you when I did.”

  “Thanks again for taking care of me.”

  He doesn’t say anything but instead gives me a thoughtful expression, a real fondness in his eyes which makes my gaze instantly dart away.

  “The good news,” I say, searching for a topic to fill the quiet, “is that my injuries won’t affect me much while dream traveling. I might be able to take down most of the billboards tonight and also I have a meeting with your mother.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Pass along my love to her, would you?”

  “I will.”

  The space between us grows quiet again. I look at Parker to catch a silly grin on his face. He’s too happy right now and it’s starting to cloud my mind with paranoia.

  “So the wedding…” he finally says.

  Absentmindedly I clench my eyes shut. The stupid wedding. I’d been able to forget about it mostly because my injuries were being so demanding.

  “Yeah, about that…” I say, opening my eyes to find a strange look on his face.

  “Don’t you want to know how it went?” he asks.

  I clear my throat which has gone dry again. “Well, I don’t want a play-by-play if that’s what you meant. How was the cake?” I ask.

  “I didn’t have any,” he says.

  “That’s the best part of any wedding. Sounds like you missed out.” There’s unmistakable resentment in my tone.

  “Oh, I don’t think so. The ceremony was extremely…” Parker pauses, searching for the right word. “It was extremely entertaining.”

  “Yeah, harpists and flower girls and sappy vows, I’m sure it was wonderful,” I say dryly.

  “Mmm…” Parker says, stroking his chin like he’s thinking. “No, wonderful isn’t the right word. Entertaining is the right one.”

  I throw my head forward with defeat and immediately regret it. A sharp stabbing sensation rocks from my head all the way down my spine. “I don’t really want to hear about the wedding,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “My apologies,” he says in a teasing tone which is so atypical to his usually kind voice. “I just thought since Dee is your sister that—”

  I whip my head up. “I don’t want to hear about Dee’s wedding, okay!?” I yell.

  To my astonishment Parker doesn’t startle at my
rush of anger; instead, a slow grin spreads on his face. “I am completely aware that you and Dee don’t get along. I’m actually aware of quite a lot.”

  “Then why are you irritating me with details I could care less about?”

  “Because,” he says, drawing out the word and then holding one long finger in the air, “I thought you’d take pleasure in hearing how mortified Dee looked when Zack announced in front of everyone that he couldn’t marry her.”

  “What?!” I say, spinning around to face Parker too fast. And although all I want is more information, my wounds capture my full attention. Own it. I double over from the pain that rips through my back from the movement. Quick breaths whistle through my aching lungs and yet my mind tries to give more than an ounce of attention to the bomb Parker so strategically just dropped.

  Finally, when my pulse isn’t beating in my head like a drum, I give myself permission to take a few steadying breaths.

  Parker’s hand is on the uninjured part of my back. “Easy now,” he says gently in my ear. “Don’t overdo it.”

  Slowly I bring my heavy head up and stare into his brown eyes.

  “I apologize for how I delivered that news,” he says, his tone genuine. “I didn’t realize you’d almost rip out a stitch.” He looks at me sideways and reveals a long smile. “I was just excited to tell you.”

  “So…” I stutter out over the nerves in my chest. “He didn’t marry her?”

  Parker nods his head proudly.

  “And he rejected her in front of the entire town?”

  Another nod.

  My eyes widen as I picture the scene playing out in my head. “Oh gods,” I whisper with disbelief.

  “He said that he didn’t love her and that it wouldn’t be fair,” Parker states. “He said that he’d never make her happy. It was done so very thoughtfully, very diplomatically.”

  “That’s Zack,” I say, my mind overwhelmed with the implications.

  “She then exclaimed that he was never going to be happy now because she was going to make his life hell,” Parker says.

  I gulp. “And I don’t doubt she’ll try.”

  “Zack didn’t look the least bit threatened as he walked off the stage and through the aisle,” Parker says with a pleased smile.