Chapter 25: I Will Steal You Back
2:10 p.m.
Somewhere outside Carbondale, PA
Another acting trick is to always have a home base in your head. Especially popular with method actors, the theory is that if you submerse yourself in a character, you might lose yourself in the process. Even if you are intentionally being someone else, you still can't forget you and everything that makes you a unique individual. This is what gives you perspective and the ability to be someone else. During one method acting workshop Lady Jaye attended, the flighty Age of Aquarius teacher instructed the students to picture their favorite spot and then create as realistic of a model in their head as they were able. It was to be a lifetime project. As time progressed and priorities shifted, that place in your head should be malleable to suit your needs. A bright blue sky may shift to the golden hues of sunset. What was most important was to create the space. Once you had a space, you were free to redecorate at whim.
Lady Jaye's retreat had always been her family's house on the Vineyard. At first it was the home of her summers, with a bright sun glowing above and the grainy sand slipping over her feet. She was at the water's edge, sinking her toes into the mushy muck, a seashell held up to her ear. As her life changed, so did the scene tucked away in her head. She found the beach too open, too exposed. There was more solace in the late evenings nestled in her bed just underneath the window, the sounds of the waves crashing into the rocks lulling her to sleep. At this point in her life, she wasn't using the exercise to save herself from some rampant character; she was using it to save her mind from the externalities threatening to break it.
Lady Jaye retreated to her place away from the pain. Perhaps the Commander was right; she would die here. If so, it would be the place of her choosing, the place that was home, not this chilly dungeon. She focused, drifting in and out of reality, trying to make the imaginary concrete. One moment she could feel the hard ground digging into her back, the next she was cradled up in her plush cotton comforter. She clung to the comforter, pulling it up around her, holding on tight.
She shivered, the nighttime air crisp and cool, smelling of salt and sea. She felt her father's touch. His fingers grazed her forehead and pushed damp, sticky hair out of its way. Despite being a businessman, his hands were thick and calloused from working in the garage. He liked to build things like sheds and bird houses. He used to say that there was nothing better than seeing the tangible results of your own work. There was always pride to be had in something you created with your two hands. She loved the feel of his hands. They were rough and scratchy yet they were one of the gentlest touches she had ever known. He sat down on the bed, easing her up into his lap, his arms supporting her. She relaxed and felt herself starting to let go. She could sleep, at last.
"Stay awake." His voice was deeper than she remembered. Her eyelids were heavy, oh so heavy. Each eyelash had a little weight tied to it. They were bringing her down, down into the silence.
He shook her with some force. "Don't fall asleep."
From somewhere a hand slapped her cheek. She couldn't even lift her hand to stifle the blow. Her head bounced with the recoil, eyes snapping wide open. Her father's face shimmered in the fog. It was a bright beacon around which the darkness was kept at bay. Smooth and shiny, she reached a hand up to touch it. His cheek was hard, much too hard. Using up the last of her strength, she narrowed her eyes and focused, concentrating on the spot where her fingers met his skin. She tapped his cheek a few times and knew—it wasn't skin. Her hand dropped and she took in a sharp intake of air. Brain screaming, she was helpless to move. Trapped she could only watch as whatever happened, happened.
"I am not here to hurt you." The voice was a sharp baritone. Her father's voice had never had that edge to it.
"Destro?"
"Yes." The edge from his voice was gone, replaced by something she would otherwise recognize as compassion. Except it was coming from Destro. It made no sense. There could be no compassion. He was Destro.
"How . . .?" She felt so tired.
He propped her up a little higher, cradling her body against his chest. "We seem to have a mutual acquaintance."
"I don't . . . I don't . . . understand."
"Suffice to say, I believe the Commander has gone too far. He's playing with forces he cannot control and he will bring greater harm then he realizes. On this front, he must be stopped."
"I thought you were done with him."
"I realize I said I was through with the Commander, but sometimes it takes time to put ones affairs in order."
"Are you helping him?"
"No." His reply was brusque. "This is not something that Mars would ever sanction. There is no honor in the Commander's choice. My father refused to get involved with Agent Orange in Vietnam and my grandfather lobbied against the use of gas in the trenches. Weapons have their place. But these are not weapons to ever be employed by man. They are for cowards. Like you, I'm trying to stop the Commander before this gets beyond his control."
"Oh . . ." Lady Jaye's eyes drifted to half mast as she felt herself begin to fade away. The few sentences she managed to mutter were enough to deplete her reserves. It was time to sleep now. Reality lost its hold.
"No. Stay with me." Destro shook her. It did no good. Her head slumped off to the side, her eyes rolling up into her head, vacant. She wasn't with him anymore in that cold place. She was home in her room, safe in her father's arms. "No." Destro grew frantic. He looked up at the ceiling, eyes hollow, mouth grim. "I'm sorry James."
He turned his attention back to Jaye, reaching into a pouch on his belt and pulling out a syringe. Squinting, he held the syringe vertical, squeezing out a small amount of the liquid inside. He laid her down on the ground, rolling up the sleeve of the brown button-down, wincing at the crusted wound left by the Commander. He cursed himself for forgetting to bring along a flashlight. It was too easy these days to rely upon his grenadiers to anticipate his needs. It was time to relearn how to be more self-sufficient. Fortunately, it was a subcutaneous injection and he didn't have to worry about searching for a vein. In one swift motion, he jabbed her with the needle and pushed the plunger down, dispensing the liquid under her skin. It would be a few minutes before what he hoped would be the expected effect. He held his breath, observing, praying. He couldn't help to think that she didn't look like any of them; she was a splitting image of her mother. That was a good thing.
Her eyes fluttered open as the medicine began its work, the heat stealing down her arms and shooting around her chest. "I think I'm going to be sick." Destro helped her roll over where she dry-heaved. "Oh man." She pushed herself up, wiping away the sweat forming on her brow. Suddenly she felt like she was on fire and her mouth was parched. Whatever Destro had given her was coursing through her veins fighting for supremacy. There was a faint ringing in her ears and a slight dizziness. "I don't feel so well."
Destro reached forward, pulling her back into him, giving her a moment to rest. He wrapped an arm around her while he pushed the hair away from her face with tender strokes. She gave in and allowed herself to melt beside him. Even the coldness of his mask felt refreshing against her neck. She was hot, burning really. He was cool, almost cold, and comfortable. He felt like a familiar blanket. Destro reached around her and handed over a black pouch. "Inside are five more syringes. Two more for you, three for Ms. Parke. I'm told three injections of this will suffice. It should be about every two hours." He paused. "It was all I could obtain."
She took the pouch. It was as if she was watching someone else take control of her body. Her mind was split in two. Part of her was on autopilot, doing what needed to be done for survival, the other was hidden away, managing the hurt. "What's going to happen?"
"It will counteract Mindbender's concoction. Mindbender is working on a super virus. Right now he's having problems with stabilization. He can't get it to live outside of a host. You can't spread it, but it will spread through you. This serum fights it at a molecular level. You must be careful. Too much at once will be worse than what Mindbender did; it will kill good cells as well. Too little, and Minderbender's virus will overcome it. You need the right amount at spaced intervals. Right now your body is responding and fighting. It won't last for long. You need to get out and get help before you become too dehydrated, an unfortunate side-effect of the remedy." Destro shook his head. "This is not for the Commander."
She had to ask that one last question. "Why are you helping me?"
"I made a promise long ago."
"What . . ." A loud boom echoed through the stone and the room quaked. Fragments of the ceiling came raining down on their heads. Without thought, Destro threw his body over Jaye's shielding her from the worst. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest. She was overcome with an oddly familiar sensation. Up until now, the closest she had ever come to physical contact with the man was when he took her hand and placed upon it a kiss. She had thought it was a chivalrous move, Flint had thought otherwise. That one kiss hadn't been enough to leave any kind of lasting mark on her. Or at least it shouldn't have. Strange that she would get comfort from him now. He was saving her life. Perhaps that was enough.
"Here, get up." Destro pulled her up on shaky legs. She grabbed him for support as her body adjusted to the rush of blood. Another boom shook the room. Destro wrapped his arms around her, escorting her toward the hallway.
"Wait." She pulled back. "What's going to happen to you if they see you with me?"
"I don't think we have time to worry about that."
"No," she pulled her arm out from his grasp, "we do." Straightening up, she inhaled a deep breath, slowly letting it out. "You can't let them see you with me. I can get out. You need to go."
"Out of the question."
Lady Jaye longed for the pounding in her head to go away. There was a vice wrapped around her skull, squeezing it all together. She desperately needed her wits about her. Damn you Mindbender. She thought of another angle. "It's going to be worse if I'm with you, for both of us. I'll have to explain."
Destro considered this rationale and reluctantly agreed. "Fine. Find your friends and get to the surface." At that moment, Lady Jaye realized how truly freaky it was that he could exude such subtle emotions through that metal mask and make her feel something. Destro reached his hand out almost as if to caress her cheek. He stopped in midair, withdrawing it back, fist clenched. "Avoid the main tunnels if you can." He turned and slipped out of the room, leaving Lady Jaye alone.
Two more booms followed in succession and the force pitched Jaye to the ground. She was starting to think splitting up from Destro wasn't such a hot idea. Grabbing the door frame with her right hand and clutching the pouch in her left, she steadied herself and peaked out into the hallway. Deserted. It looked like Cobra Commander's acolytes made the smart decision to save their own hides. Wandering into the hallway, she tried to figure out her next move. An explosion from above rang in her ears. "Hold it up Flint, not the best place in the world for a firefight." She was answered with another explosion. A large chunk of the ceiling in the room where she had just been fell, landing with crash, the displaced air picking up her body and slamming it into the far wall.
She sunk to the ground, head ringing like a Mahler symphony. Her vision was foggy and she blinked several times trying to focus. The ringing in her ears turned into a siren. She reached up feeling a face that was only made worse. Great, just great. Chalk up another few weeks of having to sport sunglasses everywhere. She wasn't a vain person, but still, give a girl a break. It wasn't as if she didn't care; she really tried to make an effort. The thought caused her to giggle. Who was she trying to impress? Flint would understand. She let out an exasperated breath. Flint. Some would say if he still liked her after this, it was real. She shook the dust out of her hair and wiped the dirt off her face. Oh no!
It hit her like a bolt of lightning—she used both hands. Oh no, please no, please let it be there! She scrambled around in the debris, feeling for Destro's pouch. Reaching down, she sighed in relief as her fingers found it. But then she knew. Oh no! The pouch was saturated. Fumbling in the dark, she ripped it open. Inside, one of the syringes had shattered, leaving only four. Not good at all. Her mind went into overdrive. With four left there would still be two more for her, but only two for Parke. Then she really thought about it. No way was Parke getting all of the medicine. If she took two, it really meant there would only be one for Parke. When Destro said it was all he could acquire, it wasn't a factual statement, it was an apology. Surely he would know as much as Jaye was now realizing that the CDC wouldn't let this go. They would claim at least one for research and reverse engineering. To have a cure and not try to replicate it? No way, no how. That wasn't how the game was played. If Parke even got one would be pressing that woman's luck. They may even let her go just to find out what happened. The symphony in her head subsided and Jaye eased up to her feet. She rested against the wall for a moment, pulling herself together and preparing for her part. Flint wouldn't be happy—she had promised him after all—but it was the right thing to do, it was the only thing to do. She had made another promise though. That trumped everything. Parke would get better, she would hold out for the CDC. Breathing deep, it was just another acting job. She walked forward on shaky legs but the way was blocked by fallen rocks. She turned around and made it to the other end of the tunnel—blocked. She sunk to the ground, head in her hands. She wouldn't be keeping any promises today.