HAUNTED

22

There was funky flash when he worped dim light unlike before. He writhed and screamed as metal meshed with flesh and burned. He didn’t invent this thing and ask John to keep it all these centuries for nothing. He had to have a reason for all this. He needed answers and to have them he needed to endure and get back.

He hit the ground with a firm thud. Dim cloudy dusk, the burnt-out trees sticking from the ground like dead souls reaching for the skies hopelessly longing for the kiss of life. Knocked out at least he thought he was for a few moments. His chest hurt.

He got up. Where am I? Looking around frantically he realised, “Johns farm house?” gone, nothing but ash, “Lex!” he yelled without thought. This can’t be next week, he thought. Lights flashed not wishing to test his luck Jacob chose to flee.

A minute should be done by now, into the ashy woods, where is the gismo?

“Stop,” a rusty sound came from the distance he moved faster. More and more and more and more feet he heard in the distance so many he could hardly tell if it were in front or around or behind him. He stopped his chest on fire, not because his lungs could not take the run but because it felt like it was literary burning.

A minute should be up by now, he thought again. He gripped his chest and felt an object sticking out of his burn flesh in the now darkness. Part of his shirt burnt and dry. He breathed, “Bad idea,” he mumbled… Then the feet came to silence.

He lifted his head and saw them… vacant eyes, thirsty lips, pulsing chests, grey and worn…. Human… like zombies they gradually staggered forward.

A minute should be up by now, he thought, what happens if… faster they charged from every angle…

She paced. The gismo in her hands, she frantically searched the gismo for a way to get him back, “I should have thought this through,” she mumbled close to tears. Desperate.

… Jacob reached for his burning chest fighting of any many murderous ravaging hands as he could. turn off, the only thought that might work.

“ten seconds left,” she watched the watch tick down to the last second. More than a minute by seconds already. What if I… the pressed hard on the top button that switched it on. She felt it click twice under her thumb.

A thud, “Finally,” she said as turned. He coughed. The gismo pulled magnetically and vanished from her hand. Then hit the floor with a cling. “Jacob,” she rushed to him. He groaned and rolled onto his back, hurt.

“That was not a minute,” he complained, blood stained his chin.

“it was a minute and a half here,” his chest was burnt, seriously burnt, patches of reddened flesh marked his skin. Stab wound or two, it was unclear. She swiftly walked to his desk and took his metal first aid case with all the funky fast healing stuff, trying to ignore the thoughts that were burning holes through her mind.

“Lex,” he turned his head to watch her, “I am not doing that again.”

I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t have she thought, hurt by his hurt which she caused. She took a scissors to his shirt, he took her hand before she cut any fabric. “You heal faster than humans but not as fast as them.”

He let go, she cut and remembered patching him up more than once. World War One she watched him die before her eyes. The memory stained her eyes and so did a tear. He saw, “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled. John walked in when she was half way through.

“It is,” there was too much to patch up for her to continue talking.

“I leave you guys for one day and this is what you do. Nearly kill each other again.” John said and a tear betray her, “I specifically said not to do anything stupid.”

“Done,” she stood up, “don’t move,” she ordered Jacob as he reached for her with his gaze that she purposely avoided. “I believe you still have the strength we gave you when we…uhm,” she searched her mind for the words, “…started this shit.”

John nodded, as for the first time he saw the same Lex that ruled the world the nearly heartless, broken cold and warm Alexandria. At least the first time he saw the part that cared, “Please…”

“Okay I will,” he took the hint to put Jacob on his bed. Then she walked out without saying another word or turning back. John did as he was asked.

“Don’t get too comfortable with this,” he said with Jacob in his arms. Jacob barely noted the joke still lost in the look she had in her eyes.

“Not in a million years old man,” he replied with a detached chuckle.

“What happened?”

“A lot.”

“Sam the guy you said bombed the school and police station, He is not in our custody anymore.”

“That explains next week… Please just go see if she is okay.”

“Are you?”

“If she is.”