Goose and the Gander
Chapter One: Mother Necessity
''Standing erect over the army of carcasses in a sea of crimson blood like a warrior in stone, he gave a mighty roar, which rang over the faraway hills, telling of his victory. He had fought and he had won, overcoming the sea of enemies that swarmed his village--with the aid of his brothers. The medics in his village would survive, and his legacy--their legacy, would also survive even after death, with those children who would now live past their third birthday. The cure would save them all...''
Now I dearly love Dr. B, everyone at the facility knows that I think of him as my own padre; but the old man is just loco en la cabeza. Why? He's just too trusting, plain and simple. I mean, it is O.K to have a good heart, that's just bueno, but there's a line between forgiveness and insanity that cannot be crossed; and unfortunately, the old man built another civilization on the other side. He is the type of person who would give the man who mugged him a few extra bucks to put gas in his tank to make it to the ATM. But that amigo, fails to comparison to what he did just yesterday: forgave Bryon Fury.
You know, the loco Terminator reject?
Imagine my surprise that day when I opened the door to his little office holding a mug of coffee for the great doctor to see the two together. Sitting. Together. Talking. My brain up and left to the nearest ward, and it must have shown on my face, for the doctor looked up at me from the tip of his nose, squinting through his spectacles with a tight frown. Recovering from my shock and knowing that if I opened my mouth right then I'd utter gibberish like a little niña, I stepped inside quickly, looking down at my sneakers and biting my lip. I studied his floor with newfound interes. I honestly never knew that white carpet could turn that very intriguing shade of beige green.
''Josue?''
I looked up to Dr. B sitting behind his desk, frail limp hands folded neatly amongst a tornado of junk: books, pens, papers; mostly just notes and reminders and such. His frizzy white hair was a mess as usual, and with his bright intelligent eyes, spectacles and amazing IQ, I could pretend he was Albert Einstein. There was a halo of framed certificates naming his accomplishments hanging behind him on the wall, all neatly arranged.
Was it possible to be both erudito and loco?
'' El cafe con leche. Your coffee... I mean, that's what you like, right?'' My eyes betrayed me and I stole a glance at Fury. Adios mio...''Ijustkindabroughtitsoifyoudon'twantitIcangoso--''
''Who the hell is he?''
I nearly dropped the mug when I heard him speak; nerves shot, I stumbled over to Dr. B's desk and plopped it in front of him, burning myself with hot coffee in the process. Cursing silently, I looked up at the doctor and mouthed the words burning in my mind: Que te pasa?
He blinked at me in utter confusement and grinned, his dimples pushing back the wrinkles marking his face. Patting my hand, he chuckled, his voice light with mirth. ''Go sit down, boy. You might as well hear this too''
Que?
I almost spoke but the combined force of the threatening growl coming from behind me and the obvious point the doctor was making by completely ignoring the look I was giving him by taking a looooong sip of his coffee sent me to the seat beside Fury. He looked over to me with abhorrence and snorted. I scooted my chair away.
How the heck did he get that thing to sit in a chair?
Dr. B coughed into his fist and laid his mug to rest on top of a large weathered book to his right. He nodded at me and turned back to the psychopath sitting across from him.
''Are we at agreement?''
The cyborg snorted disdainfully with a look of pure disgust before his face broke into a wide grin. Tilting his head up, he chuckled dangerously, eyeing the weak defenseless man sitting before him.
''And why the hell shouldn't I just fuck you up for not doing what the hell I tell you?''
I cringed inwardly and outwardly then, my mind racing. Agreement? Fury was actually sitting down? He spoke in full sentences? (Though my ears were burning from his word choice). He was sitting down and talking? When my brain finally managed to wrap itself around the concept that he was in fact sitting down and speaking (I for one, thought he only spoke in grunts), the meaning of his words sunk in.
I clenched the arms of my seat tightly. No me digas! He was going to kill Dr. B? My eyes darted back and forth between the two men before I finally gathered enough courage to speak. Pathetically, it only came out to sound like a miserable squeak.
''What's going on?''
And guess what? They ignored me.
Dr. B sighed.
''What? That's it?''
''Not exactly...'' The elder man picked up his mug, earning a glare from the cyborg seated before him. ''Put that down. What the hell did you have to say before?'' Fury snarled. His voice alone made me want to crawl out of my skin and make my escape. When the proud doctor didn't scream in horror and scram, I found myself feeling proud of him. He was familia.
He obeyed and sat his mug back on the book and smiled at Bryan Fury as if he was not a psychopathic killing machine—literally. ''I am a very old man, I do not have long to live...'' He paused to let this sink in. ''Why should I fear death at my age? I will not help you knowing the consequences for doing so. Accepting my terms benefits both you and myself''
Fury frowned slightly, brow knotted in concentration and irritation. He leaned back in the swivel chair before kicking himself forward. He brought himself to a stop right before making impact by lifting the heel of his boot to the desk. Letting it fall, he leaned in over it, itching close to the elder man's face with a snarl that would strike a Pitt dead. Dr. B's frown deepened . ''If you want more time to think about it...''
''I'll do it''
Fury stood up then, never once taking his eyes off the doctor. He was both powerful and merciless, two of the three tools needed to be the perfect weapon. He was feared by many; most of which who were now all asleep in their graves in pieces. He towered over the older man and stood out in his office sharply--silver hair cropped like any soldier's, and clad in army wear. Above all, he was heavily armed and standing like a sentry above the great doctor; he could have done a number of things to him, all of which would kill him in a second. But the difference between this man and his other victims was the fact that both Dr. Boskonivitch and Fury knew that he would not kill him.
To do anything that would benefit another put a foul taste in his mouth, but this time he had no other choice. He had entrusted himself to the doctor once before to receive technological upgrades and was extremely pleased with the results. Considering that Dr. Boskonovitch was willing to correct some system damages ensued on him during a fight with Yoshimitsu after what he did to the doctor's facility, he was lucky that he didn't call for the authorities as soon as he heard that he had come; though his appearance at the new facility was by invitation.
But of course he wanted something in return: reassurance that he would not go on a killing spree for one. Yeah right, he thought with great amusement. It would simply have been easier to threaten the old man with death or torture, but he had no fear of it, and risking his chances of receiving the upgrades weren't on his 'to do list'. Unfortunately, he would have to play the doctor's little game for now.
To say he despised the current situation would have been an understatement.
...
I sighed with exaggerated relief when I was finally alone with the doctor. I laughed at the oddness of the situation, releasing the built up tension I felt. ''Adios mio! Gracias!'' I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. I blew the dark curls from my forehead as I spun around in my seat. ''Now that was odd. Isn't he just agradable y magnanimo? Ha! Que hiciste? How did you get him to sit down and talk, eh? In fact, what were you guys talking about?''
The old man fell silent and got a faraway look in those azure eyes of his, as if he was seeing something someplace else; at another time. I studied him closely, wondering why he would trust a complete loony killer to do something for him--basically risking his life. He wasn't that old. Or maybe he was just tonto. When I began to think that maybe I was wrong, and he was in fact very old since it appeared he had forgotten that I had asked him a question, he spoke.
''We spoke of bringing me back my joy''
Rachel felt as if something was wrong the moment she opened the screen door. Balancing the bags of groceries on her knee, she flicked on the light switch and kicked the door shut behind her as she entered. From the foul smell in the air, she could tell that the garbage had still not been taken out. Dropping the plastic bags on the counter, she left the kitchen after making a note to wash the large load of dishes soaking in the murky water in the sink.
It did not take long to search the one bedroom house. It was in a sorry state; it hadn't been cleaned in a week. Sighing and biting down panic, she quickly tied back her hair and brushed back her bangs. Her sister had evidently disobeyed her again and went outside while was she was out. Her mind played all sorts of depressing scenarios that her sister could be caught up in.
Rachel made her way back into the bedroom that she shared with her sister. For the first time since she came to live there, she completely ignored the roaches that scurried past her as she searched under the bed for the umbrella which she was positive she kicked there the week before.
It was going to rain.
...
''Is it dark out?''
The rodent which she held whose identity she guessed to be a mouse did not answer. Sensitive fingers stroked the wet fur, calming the jittery nerves of the tiny creature. Head tilted back and eyes closed, she welcomed the rain as she tried to guess what the specimen was which she had captured. Her eyes were merely closed to protect them from the pouring rain. She would have been unable to see the small rodent even if her eyes were open; because for the moment, she was blind.
Deciding that she was in fact holding a small street mouse, she released it onto the concrete and strained her ears to hear which direction it went off to over the rain. Content after she could hear it no more, she leaned back in the bench visualizing her surroundings in her mind. Over the years with a lot of practice, she learned to draw out the entire neighborhood in her mind like a map. As of now, she knew that she was three blocks from her home at the 'basketball court'. What it really was was makeshift hoops made by an elderly woman named Mattie and her nieces who nailed them to the walls of two old buildings. The metal bench which she sat on was built alongside the front wall of the building, putting the 'court' to her back.
She had even memorized the colorful art which had been spray painted on those old brick walls, some of which she did herself when she was able to see. Encouraged by her sister, all courage and smiles, she taught herself to overcome her fear of their little world when she lapsed into blindness. As long as everything was constant, she was not afraid. Anira opened her eyes and smiled to herself. She wondered if her sister was as soaked to the bone as she.
She groaned out load.
She had forgotten about Rachel!
Standing up, she left the bench and walked quickly down the sidewalk praying her sister would be late in coming home from the grocery store. It wouldn't be the first, or the second time for that matter. It was because of that she dared to venture outside in longer and longer periods of time under her sister's watchful eye. If Rachel were to discover her 'activities', she would kill her; but worst, she might actually lock her in their room like she had threatened the last time she was caught. Her sister was becoming even stricter now that the periods she would lapse into blindness stretched out longer.
She quickened her pace. Please don't be home, please don't be home, please don't be home, ple--
The brunette walked right into something soft but firm and stumbled back, balancing herself quickly before she fell onto the sidewalk. Anira blushed, absolutely embarrassed for forgetting to listen out for other people.
''I'm so sorry, I didn't see you'' she said quickly, hoping that the person wasn't elderly, or even worse: Crazy.
''Ani! Oh my God you had me so worried!''
Rachel embraced her sister hard, abandoning all thoughts of punishment as relief washed over her. Releasing her, she took in Anira's appearance and despite herself, felt a smile crawl on her lips. The petite young woman was entirely drenched, light brown hair matted to her skin, following the example of her soaked clothes. She knew that she was just as wet, especially after losing their ratty umbrella.
Wretched thing was falling apart anyway...
''Rachel? Are you just going to stand there or are you going to take me home?''
If it wasn't for the smile on her sister's lips and the light tone of voice she used, Rachel would have done more than frown and wrinkle her nose at her statement. Especially when her sister should not have been out to begin with. Sighing, the older girl took her hand and led her the rest of the way home in the rain.
...
Anira sat the brush on the night stand and plopped back into the bed, pretending that the mattress wasn't stiff and foul smelling at all; but spongy, soft and nice with a fresh citrus scent.
A roach crawling over her leg brought her back to reality.
She squealed and bolted upright, vigorously rubbing her legs to rid herself of the prickly feeling on her skin. No matter how long she had to live with them, she never grew accustomed to the family of roaches they shared a home with: they disgusted her. Not wanting to chance coming across anymore creepy crawlies, the brunette kicked off the sheets from the bed and called out to her sister.
''Rachel! Can you bring me a glass of water please?''
A loud crash followed by a curse was heard from somewhere in the kitchen.
''Ugh! I broke it! O.K--wait! Damn it, hold on, someone's at the door!''
Taking care to step over the broken shards of green china strewn on the carpet, Rachel made it to the door without incident. She opened it and after a pause, smiled politely. The stranger, a tall man with silver hair did not return the gesture.
''Good afternoon, how ca--''
She was cut off from the lack of oxygen as his hand shot out from beside him and wrapped itself around her neck. The man lifted her effortlessly from her feet. After stepping inside and observing her quickly, he tossed her to the side and looked around the room. Rachel sputtered and clutched her sore throat. Panting heavily, she lifted herself from the floor, wincing as a sharp pain shot up through her side. The man who had broken in turned to her with a cold look. She shuddered and made an attempt to stand to her feet.
''Where is Anira Goldin?''
This was not really a question, she knew, but a command. His voice was harsh and she was reminded of how strong he was and what he was capable of doing. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall trying to still the dizziness playing havoc with her head. She took a shaky breath before turning to look at him.
''I don't know what you're talking about''
He smiled malevolently at her remark and took a step toward her, enjoying the way she cringed when he did so. He stopped when he heard someone quietly enter the den. The new girl was standing before them, staring straight ahead oblivious to what was occurring. If she had been able to see her sister on the verge of tears leaning against the wall with a nasty bruise on her neck and arm and the built man standing before her, heavily armed, she would not have smiled and laughed.
''Eric, is that you at the door? Rachel, you two really should just--''
''Ani! Go!''
Anira blinked in surprise at her sister's outburst, her thin brows furrowed in confusement. She took a step back, her heart racing; the fear in her sister's voice had shot her nerves. She almost ran off when she shouted, but she didn't. Not when her sister was possibly in trouble.
''What's wrong? Rachel...''
''Run away!'' she shouted, pushing herself from the wall. The blonde stumbled, but caught herself before she fell. ''Get the hell out of here!''
Bryan turned to Anira. From what he could tell, she matched the doctor's description. She looked around the age he was given, and her hair was shoulder length and brown. He could also see she was blind, it was obvious; she still remained where she was, grayish olive eyes darting about the room but never catching anything. And then there was the fact that the other girl called her Ani, which he guessed to be short for Anira. There was little doubt in his mind; this girl was definitely the doctor's granddaughter.