Congratulations. You just made it to the last chapter of Book Two. Be prepared…for…something…

Bleg. I can't be dramatic right now. It's too late at night. Sorry.

The Files of Kazdan Kalinkas

Book Two: After the Storm

Chapter Nineteen: Living With It

"You took my teacher and now I let you take my friend. What the hell do you want from me? Don't you think I wanted to use my powers to win this tournament and go home? I just…didn't know how to find it. Now I have to live that." – Yusuke Urameshi from Yu Yu Hakusho

Noises and movement from out in the hallway woke me up.

I heard people talking, rather loudly, to one another, and what sounded like clicking noises and I could see lights blinking through the crack between the floor and door. What was going on out there?

I looked around the room.

Everyone else was asleep. Tom had drifted off in the chair beside my bed, Husky was actually on my bed, sleeping down at the other end, my parents were huddled together on another chair and Tom's parents were the same in yet another chair.

I slowly eased out from under the blankets, shivering as my bare feet touched the cold tile floor, and walked quietly up to the door. I put my ear against, held my breath, and listened. The voices were muffled and I couldn't make out what they were saying. But I was pretty sure I heard my name.

Curiosity; the one thing I had never been able to squash even in the UnderWorld; overcame me and I gently turned the door handle. As slowly as possible, I pushed the door open and peered through a crack.

Crap! It's the media!

I stepped back and tried to shut the door without anyone noticing. I breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut and I stepped away without any disturbances. When I turned around, Tom was sitting backwards in the chair, watching me.

"What?" I said in a low voice.

"It's the press and stuff, isn't it?" He asked quietly.

"I don't care if it is." I stepped past him and climbed back onto the bed, "It's freaking Christmas and I'm not going to worry about them."

Tom chuckled, sitting the right way again, "I think you'd bite their heads off if they tried to interview you, anyway." He shot me a sly glance, "Is it true you punched the police inspector in the face?"

My face burned, "I didn't do it on purpose. I was…he startled me." I muttered, "I was asleep and he…grabbed my shoulder and I just sort of…reacted."

Tom let out a loud burst of laughter and then slapped his hand over his mouth.

"What's so funny?" Husky said sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Kaz fell out of bed." Tom said, still trying to keep the laughter from his voice.

"I did not!" I shouted indignantly.

"Happy Christmas Morning!" The noise had woken the adults too. Everyone was getting up and stretching and wishing one another Merry Christmas. I just sat on top of the bed sheets, wishing all of this was taking place at a house and not in the hospital. And wishing I was wearing a pear of jeans and a sweater instead of the thin pants and shirt I had gotten from the hospital.

"Kaz has a grumpy face!" Mr. Majors said jokingly, "Get that look off your face, this is Christmas and you're home!"

"Yeah…" I said, grinning, "Home. Merry Christmas!"

"Open mine first!" Husky practically threw a package into my arms, "Go on, then, open it up! Open it!"

I grabbed the wrapping paper and tore it back and I felt like a little kid.

For some reason, it was fun.

Maybe because I was with Tom, his parents, my mom and dad, and Husky.

Maybe it was because I was finally home.

But I think maybe it was because I was doing something so simple and so ordinary. I wasn't hiding in the bushes, waiting for my next victim. I wasn't waiting for my next mission in a dark basement room.

I was opening a Christmas present.

And the fact that it was so natural and so plain and so common was what made me happy.

The nurses shooed everyone out of the room at around noon. I scowled at Abby as she physically pushed Husky out of the room but her back was to me and she didn't notice.

Why the heck couldn't I hang out with my family all Christmas Day?

At least they left the tree up. I thought, pushing the wrapping paper piled in front of me to the floor, And let me keep my presents.

A new vest from my cousin as the other one he'd given me had vanished when I did and two new Road Rager games from mine and Tom's parents. Tom had given me…a scarf. I'd looked at him and he'd shrugged, drawing one finger quickly across his throat.

I'd understood what he meant. The scarf could hide the scar left on my neck from Varris slitting my throat.

I currently had the black and white striped garment wrapped around my neck and was sitting moodily on the hospital bed, wishing I had a PlayStation 2 that I could play my Road Rager games on.

How annoying. Stuck in the hospital on Christmas. How stupid.

The door opened and I turned my glare on Doctor Mitchell as he entered the room, "Merry Christmas Kaz!" He froze when he saw my glare, "Aw now what's that for?"

"I'm stuck in the hospital, in this stupid room, during Christmas." I spat back, "What do you think this look is for?"

The doctor frowned for a moment and then shook his head, "Kaz, I'm sorry you're so miserable, especially on Christmas, but you are not yet recovered enough to leave."

"Says who?" I growled.

"Unfortunately, it's not just myself." Dr. Mitchell shut the door as he moved further into the room, his clipboard tucked under his arm, "The police inspector doesn't want you to leave yet either." I bristled at that but the doctor didn't notice; he was too busy comparing notes from the chart at the end of the bed to the notes on his clipboard, "He wants to keep you here until you give him a full report. I argued that it was unreasonable. In the end, even if you haven't given him what he wants then you'll be let out two days before New Years."

"Why?" My voice was strained, my fists clenched, "I've already told him I don't remember. Why is he hounding me!?"

"He wants to catch the people who did this," Dr. Mitchell said with a serious expression as he headed back out the door, "Because he doesn't want it to happen to anyone else." He shut the door.

"Doesn't want it to happen to anyone else!?" I hissed, "Bull! He's just angry because I haven't told him what he wants to hear! It's not fair!" I grabbed the blankets and tore them off the bed and hurled them to the floor with a shout, "You can't keep me here!" I closed my eyes and put my face in my hands, "It's just like before…just like in the UnderWorld…I'm trapped…just like before…"

The room suddenly felt bigger and colder and I felt very alone despite it being Christmas and that I had just had one of the best days of my life.

I pressed my back against the headboard of the hospital bed, drew my knees up to my chin, and buried my face in my arms.

Was there any way for me ever get away from all of this?

When had I ever thought there was such a thing as freedom?

And then…

Why had Chaor done that to me?

I had trusted him! I had spied for him, told him secrets from the other tribes, helped him raid Kiru City, and even though there were times we didn't agree on things…I had considered him a friend.

And then he had betrayed my trust and left me broken.

I found it hard to believe that I would ever have faith in anyone ever again.

What I couldn't piece together was why Chaor had done it in the first place?

I couldn't deny that he was a mighty ruler and had the duty to protect his tribe but he never would have gone as far as he did. He never would have hurt me. He never would have done what he did. Even if he was desperate for a weapon that could help him defeat his enemies, he never would hurt his loyal subordinates as much as he hurt me.

And he had never been so manipulative.

Maybe something had happened to make him that way. Or maybe I was just thinking too much about it. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to justify what had happened to me without pinning it on my favorite tribe.

Formally favorite tribe.

I looked up and glared at the opposite wall.

I was no longer an UnderWorlder.

I was never going back to Perim.

I was never going back to Chaotic.

I was never playing Chaotic ever again.

The anger and the hatred and the pain shriveled up in my stomach and left me feeling sick and empty. I lay down on the bed and tucked my hands behind my head. My fingers got tangled in my too long hair. All these things were building up inside me and I couldn't sort them out. I needed to get out of the hospital. I needed to be someplace familiar, like my room.

I needed to go home.

The Inspector wants a story, does he…? I thought, Fine…he'll get a story. And all the gory details to go along with it.

I had to wait until two days after Christmas to be able to tell Inspector Jeremy about "what had happened to me."

I didn't mind.

I spent the two days having mild amounts of fun with Husky who didn't have anywhere else to go at the moment. He'd be leaving before the New Year, though. Hopefully, I could get out of the hospital before then.

"So, Kaz, are you ready to cooperate with us?" The inspector had this look on his face like he'd finally beat me. So, he thought he'd won, did he?

"Yeah…sure…" I pushed my hair from my face and looked at Greg. The man flicked his gaze away from me. He was scared of me for some reason. I thought that would cheer me up. Instead it made me feel like I'd swallowed a rock.

"Alright then, just start from where we've been leaving off." The Inspector sat back and crossed his arms, looking smug. I was really starting to hate this guy and his two sidekicks.

"It was dark." I muttered, closing my eyes and fishing for the story I'd fabricated, "I couldn't see and I couldn't move." I took a deep, dramatic breath, "Then I heard…voices."

"What kind of voices?"

"Guys." I said, keeping my eyes closed, trying to breath evenly, "I called for help. They hit me. I screamed. They hit me some more. I just kept shouting because I didn't know where I was and one of them stuck something hot into my gut." I traced a hand over my stomach, over the horrid burn scar Chaor had given me that first day in the IRA, "I think it was a stick that was on fire. I dunno. It hurt…a lot. I…fainted."

I paused for dramatic effect, letting it sink in. Then I said slowly,

"It kind of all…blurs together after that. I could never see anything. They always kept me blindfolded. I don't know what they wanted. Probably just some…sick fun or something." The rock in my stomach got bigger with apprehension. I could see Chaor leering at me from the dark corners of my mind and I opened my eyes. The sudden white of the hospital sheets seemed wrong.

"Where did all those other scars come from? What did they do to you?" Surprisingly, it was Rick who was asking.

"I had to fight them." I answered softly.

"Blindfolded!?" Greg blurted out.

"Yeah…blindfolded…" My voice dropped lower only this time it wasn't on purpose, "I don't know if it was just them or if there were other people they had kidnapped that I was fighting but…I had to…fight…and…kill…"

"My gosh…!" Inspector Jeremy gasped.

I sat staring at my hands. It had been truth. I had told them a shred of truth. An ice needle sat quivering in my heart.

I had killed that soldier.

I had killed Varris.

I had killed so many innocent Creatures.

I was covered in their blood.

The rock in my stomach suddenly exploded and I hurled my breakfast directly into Rick's psycho-analyst lap.

Dr. Mitchell had a field day with ripping on the inspector and his two men. Then again, Inspector Jeremy wasn't backing down without getting his two cents in either. The shouting match was quite a sight to behold.

I was ignoring it, shivering out in the hall in a wheelchair with my arms wrapped around my chest and my gaze set steadfastly out the window across the hall from me.

This feeling was never going to let me go.

I had killed.

Nothing was going to change that; not reversing the Virus, not removing the IRA, not coming home, not seeing my family, nothing.

I wondered if things would have been different if I had fought back harder.

But I couldn't dwell on what if's.

The fact was that I had done all those things.

Now I had to learn to live with what I had done.

And for some reason, right at that second, while I was sitting alone in that hospital hallway listening to the two adults shouting at one another…

…at that moment it seemed liked living with what I had done was harder than actually doing it.

Here Ends Book Two of The Files of Kazdan Kalinkas