Here Apollo was, again. Lying in bed, his bed, with Catherine sleeping peacefully pressed into his side. I can't do this…
She woke shortly after he did, and his mind instantly switched to a more clinical wave of thinking.
"Would you like me to try healing you, again?" I waited, this time. I hope you respect me for that. I hope you'll trust me, now, Catherine… I think I've earned your trust.
She cocked a single eyebrow at him and let out a yawn. She had moved in the night, again; but she wasn't completely separated from his body, when she stretched slightly more into his own solid form. He clenched his jaw and tried to distract himself from his growing arousal. She'd given him an affirmative answer, then added on a "good morning," which guilted him into returning the gesture.
"Good morning," he said with an earnest smile.
One arm was trapped under Catherine's, so he used his free hand to gently pick up her still-bruised wrist. The redness and irritation were lighter, but still present. He concentrated on pulling the healing energy he used the previous morning. The same pathway of energy pulsing from his core through his hand and out toward his fingertips. He focused even harder, specifically willing the injury to receive the mysterious healing power he had only begun to flex. The redness cleared, second by second, until her skin was once again a creamy, unblemished sight.
Finished and satisfied with the result, he released his hold on her wrist, as she sat up in bed. She marveled at the change, holding up her other wrist to compare his work. He took the time to move the arm that had cradled her to his side. The blood flowed to that appendage, now that her neck no longer restricted its path.
In the next instant, she was holding out her other wrist to him, looking at him with eyes that conveyed both need and bold expectation. He nodded and complied, healing the second afflicted wrist and erasing the damage that Cole had done in tying her hands so callously behind her back.
"That's amazing," she whispered. His heart had swelled a bit, with that compliment.
"I can do more," Apollo let her know. "But, unless I know where you are injured, it will take a great deal of time and energy to heal…everything." He'd started out the sentence innocently enough, before realizing toward the end that her most significant injuries were most likely internal. And private.
Catherine tilted her head up to the ceiling, then, but kept her eyes trained on his face. She put a single hand to her throat, where handprints were still visible. Cole's. Apollo had noticed them every hour, but tried not to stare. Now, given permission, he openly studied the marks. The only obvious measure that suggested Cole's hands was the thickness of the bruising all over her neck. There were a few lines that struck away from the thick band of red. Fingers. Not just one instance of strangulation. Many. Different positions of his hands on her neck.
Grabbing her. Controlling her. Wanting to hurt her. The wrists…those were the consequence of him subduing her. He hardly grabbed her by the arm or hands. He grabbed her by her neck. Barbaric.
"Here?" she'd asked quietly.
Her plea roused him from his thoughts. He sat up in the bed and leaned toward her, as she sat kneeled beside him. He started to bring his hands up, but wondered if he needed to place his hands over the marks Cole had left. He ended up doing exactly that, but when Catherine flinched, he let go and sat back.
"I'm not sure there's another way I can help," he explained slowly, "if I can't touch where…" – Cole touched you – "you'rehurt."
She nodded and leaned in, herself, to close the distance between them. His hands barely covered the thin skin on her neck, and he set to work immediately.
I basically just told her that I can only heal what I can touch. Idiot. She won't be asking, again, now that I've healed her most visible injuries.
The bruises on her neck were surprisingly stubborn, taking a longer time to lighten and heal. It took a considerable amount of time to finish the job, but, eventually, there was no trace of Cole's hands. On that part of her body, anyway. Apollo's mind briefly flitted to other areas of her skin, wondering if Cole had branded her in any other way.
He finished and sat back, resting his hands on his abdomen.
"I can't do that, anymore," he spoke with finality. I can't be your substitute for David. It's not fair, Catherine. To you or to me.
"Heal me?" was her unexpected response to his boundary. Her face showed her confusion.
She doesn't get it. She's not even on that wavelength, Apollo realized. He smiled to reassure her.
"No. No, not the healing," he clarified. "The…sleeping." His smile waned, awkwardly.
She blushed and looked down. "Yeah," she agreed quietly. "I'm sorry about that."
Apollo sighed and got out of bed. I didn't mean for her to feel like she needed to apologize. I just wanted her to know that it would be different, moving forward. Guilt washed over him, and he walked to the door. He called out, as he left the room, to let her know that she was welcome to join him for breakfast.
The morning continued, with Catherine joining him at the kitchen table and enjoying the omelet he'd made her.
"So," she carefully segued, after complimenting his culinary skills. "You've told me about David, and Razor…and…what was the other girl's name?"
"Aura," he'd answered. He leaned back in his chair. His plate was empty.
"Okay. So what are some of the other conduits like? What can they do? Can any of them do what you can?"
It was a lot of questions at once, but Apollo obliged her curiosity.
"There's another guy, yeah," he thought about another conduit. "He goes by Gleam. He can control light, kind of like I do. But, more like Aura, his bending of light is only an illusion. I can make my powers physically manifest, using them like a weapon, if needed. Gleam can camouflage himself, too. And there's another conduit, Glare. He picked his name after meeting Gleam. They're…close. Glare can use light to temporarily blind everyone around him. He also happens to be a black belt in taekwondo, so he's got that going for him. The two of them probably are the most similar to what I can do."
"Who else is there?"
He continued telling her about the other Reaper Conduits, and the conversation eventually shifted into talking about the shifty organization itself.
"Do you trust any of the other Reapers? Zeke?" she asked. "I remember you mentioning that you didn't want me to try to find any of them, if anything happened to you in the Warren."
"I don't trust anyone completely," Apollo answered honestly. "The other Reapers…they're not all bad people. But even those who are good have their bad moments. And Zeke…he's willing to overlook a lot of screwups to reach his ultimate goal: neutralizing Cole."
"But you trust them enough to fight alongside of them? For the Reapers? For Zeke?"
He hesitated. "Yes," he finally said, a little too forcefully. "Enough to join their cause to take Empire City back from Cole."
"If that's their plan, your plan, then what happens when Cole's dead? What happens when the fighting stops and the Reapers are on top?"
"Empire City will be safer," he confidently stated. "Most of us will probably step down and let the police handle the peacekeeping. Supplies will be more evenly distributed, and the hospitals won't be dealing with the deaths and injuries from Cole's carelessness."
Catherine stared at him, and he tried to read the blank expression. She nodded slowly, eventually.
"Is that what you've been told, or is that what you believe will happen?" Her question was genuine, without derision. She really wanted to know.
Before Apollo could answer, she popped up from her chair and grabbed their empty plates.
"Never mind!" Her tone was utterly different than it had sounded seconds ago. She was bubbly and light, now. "Let me clean our plates, real quick, and let's watch a movie!"
He dropped the subject, at her request, and rose to cross the room. He took his regular seat on the couch, and she sat in the armchair. A safe distance. A friendly distance. He took it as a sign that she understood that she'd crossed a line.
That night, she'd wished him a good night and went to sleep in his bed. No invitation. No pleading. He was back on the couch. Probably for the best.
At the end of their third week together, her mood lightened considerably. Apollo noticed a tampon wrapper in the bathroom garbage can, and he, too, breathed a sigh of relief. For two reasons: Catherine wasn't carrying a child as the result of her rape and she wasn't upset about the fact that her lack of being pregnant meant that she was still stuck in Empire City until the quarantine lifted.
Apollo finally prepared his laptop for guest use. He set up a separate account on the sign-in screen; something that, once she signed in, could be personalized to her tastes and preferences. And with nothing from his own account, except for the downloaded programs. She was grateful, but he gave her a stern look before handing over the new form of entertainment.
"You have to be careful with this," he said seriously. "Don't share anything about me with anyone. If I were you, I'd be very careful about your online presence. You're assumed to be missing or dead. Cole knows your name. Don't give away anything that might jeopardize our location. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she'd sincerely answered. "Of course."
He'd handed her the laptop, then, and she'd sat at the kitchen table to customize her profile. Leaving her only for a moment, he was impressed with how much she was able to accomplish in his short absence. She'd already set a customized background, restructured her online browser, and signed in to an email account. He held out her phone and she looked at it in surprise.
"The same goes with this, okay?" he made it clear.
She nodded and took it from his hand. When she pressed the menu button on her phone, the battery was dead. She frowned at that, but she placed it on the table and refocused on the plethora of junk emails.
"Be careful with what you say about the quarantine, from rations to deaths to all the violence," he warned her. "If you end up on some NSA watchlist, it'll make things a lot more difficult."
"Yeah, I kind of figured Big Brother would be checking on negative press coming from Empire City," she muttered.
At the beginning of their fourth week, she'd acted more agitated than usual. He'd let the side-looks and awkward exchanges slide, figuring that something was on her mind. He found out how right he was, when she admitted that she was nervous about going back to her apartment.
Four weeks. I mean, she has a point, but that was before I had to rescue her from Cole. You can't ever go back there, Catherine. I'm sorry…
But then the conversation had soured, when she'd mentioned the possibility of being picked for the lottery, again. He'd shared the information Zeke had learned from his contacts outside of the city.
He regretted his honesty.
If she'd gone by, week after week, without knowing the truth, she would've chalked it up to bad luck. Poor odds.
Now, she was mad at him. As if it was his fault. She'd stormed into the sole bedroom and closed the door behind her. He rolled his eyes and went to sit at the kitchen table. He'd been out of the apartment a couple of times, but he was due for another surveillance shift. He logged onto his profile, and looked for the Reaper logo in its usual spot in the top corner. Nothing, yet. He browsed online, looked up international news headlines, then signed off and went to bed.
In the morning, Catherine was back to normal. Not quite as chipper as she'd been last week, but much friendlier than her previous night's self.
Two more days went by, with Apollo waiting for Catherine to go to bed to check for a message from Zeke. And, finally, there it was. He clicked the Reaper logo and sighed.
{Not IndicatinG tHorough sTakeout…A3Fix}
He shook his head. From the first time he'd met Zeke, he could tell that the new leader of the Reapers had been waiting to be relevant his whole life. There was a pompous, arrogant side of the overweight man. Although Apollo believed Zeke's heart to be in the right place, there were too many signs that Zeke had been preparing for his moment to use everything he'd seen in action movies. The cipher was a dead giveaway. Apollo knew Zeke wrote them himself. There were easier ways to encrypt a message.
NIGHT, antonym, three letters, opposite of fix. Easy. DAYBREAK.
The message flashed on the screen.
[Apollo – Surveillance Sunday from 1300 to 1800, top of TransFund building, overlooking Archer Square. Wear your damn earpiece. – Z]
A quick surveillance mission. Nice. And then he'll leave me alone for a week, hopefully.
The next day, he shared the information with Catherine.
"How long will you be out?" she asked.
"I'll be back before nightfall," he'd assured her.
Two days later and he left for the building on the other side of the Neon. Although he left early, per his usual, the idea of trekking on rooftops around Memorial Park seemed too much of a hassle. While doing surveillance, he'd be resting on the roof of the familiar business building in full sunlight. He could recharge for the five hours he'd be there. He'd recharge, report to Zeke, then head home.
Easy.
Apollo cut through the park, staying hidden as much as he could from wandering citizens, but having to cloak himself the majority of the time. By the time he was on the roof of the TransFund building, one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city, he had used up a large amount of his stored energy. He perched at the edge, thankful for the breeze that cooled the air and made wearing the layers of his Reaper uniform bearable.
The sound of a door opening nearby snapped his focus toward the back of the building. Apollo knew about the rooftop entry, of course, but he didn't expect anyone to be using it. Zeke stepped into the light, out of the darkness of the stairwell, and Apollo's breath slowed.
As Zeke approached, he called out.
"Hey, Apollo!" Zeke sounded jovial, but Apollo chose not to return the greeting. When the Reaper leader was only feet from the conduit, he spoke again. "Glad to know we can still count on you to show up for your shifts, at least."
Apollo narrowed his eyes at the thinly-veiled insult. "I have my earpiece in. You could have let me know you were on your way up."
Zeke's face lit up with a condescending smirk. "Now that I CAN'T count on. Sorry, man. You know, you're the only one on the team that I always have to send messages to! Very annoying," he chuckled, though, lightheartedly. "But, I have to hand it to you. You always figure 'em out without having to check in audibly. Smart man!"
"So what's up, Zeke?" Apollo was already wishing Zeke away, which would only happen once the conversation ended.
The older man shuffled his feet and looked over Apollo's shoulder, toward Archer Square.
"We're waiting on one more," Zeke said.
Apollo bit back a huffed breath. Aura? Probably.
There was a slight…tingle…in the air. Static electricity.
From static thrusters.
Cole's ability to float long distances by pushing against the atmosphere's electrical field.
Apollo wildly looked around himself, then backed away from the oncoming Cole. He thought about running, but he looked over at Zeke to see if his leader needed protection.
Zeke, however, seemed unfazed. Unsurprised by Cole McGrath arriving to their location.
Cole landed and shot a menacing look to Apollo before approaching Zeke.
"Well? I'm here, Zeke," the terrorist's gravelly voice called out.
"Yep," Zeke acknowledged.
"What's going on?" Apollo rounded on them both, realizing that this was a meeting that had been arranged behind his back.
"Who's this guy?" Cole cocked his thumb at the other conduit, but spoke to Zeke.
"That's Apollo," Zeke answered. Apollo gritted his teeth, upset at being out of the loop and furious with Zeke. "We need to talk, Cole, and I think it's only fair that I have someone with powers to stand beside me."
Cole crossed his arms, looking wary and bored. "What else is there to talk about, Zeke?"
This is…casual, Apollo thought. These guys know each other. Or, at least, at one time, they knew one another pretty well. What the hell is this?!
"Alden's back," Zeke whispered. He looked…sad. Regretful.
Cole, however, looked murderous. "NO. No. He fell in the water. He's been gone for months. MONTHS."
"Apollo?" Zeke asked, and two sets of eyes settled on the only masked face on the rooftop.
"Yeah," Apollo confirmed. "Yes, Alden is back. We saw him. He killed one of our conduits."
"Good riddance," the terrorist sneered in Apollo's direction. Apollo clenched a fist, but Zeke waved at him to calm down.
"I sent the Reapers to Shanty Town two weeks ago, Cole," Zeke pulled Cole's line of sight back to the shorter man. "Alden was there, strong as ever. We went in to eliminate the Dust Men, but we had to retreat."
We? Apollo raged. Zeke did nothing more than coordinate the attack. He pushed through orders without knowing what he was sending the Reapers into. It's your fault Razor is dead, you sonofabitch.
"Bold move," Cole raised his eyebrows appreciatively. "I haven't been in the Warren much, lately. Still…why do you think Alden is keeping a low profile? That old relic could've gotten my attention by now."
"I'm pretty sure he's been workin' on recruiting," Zeke informed Cole. When Zeke looked to Apollo, Apollo found himself mindlessly agreeing with the man, still dumbfounded that he was in the middle of this conversation. "He lost to you last time, Cole. He won't risk callin' attention to himself if he's not ready to face you." Zeke looked at Apollo, again. "Did Alden leave Shanty Town? Follow you guys back through the Warren?"
Apollo thought for a moment, before answering. "No, he stayed behind. I never saw him out of Shanty Town."
"Great," Cole quipped sarcastically. "So, you want me to leave your boys alone for a while and take back the Warren? It's hardly worth fighting for."
"No," Zeke shook his head. "I was hopin' that we could team up. Fight him together! He almost bested you, last time, and he'll be harder to beat, now that he's learned from his mistakes. He won't underestimate you, again, Cole. But, if you're backed up by the Reapers…"
"Then I'll get to be attacked from behind, too!" Cole laughed at the absurdity of Zeke's suggestion. "What kind of fool do you take me for, Zeke? Huh?"
"No, no!" Zeke vehemently disagreed and held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I promise. A truce for the duration of our team-up against Alden. We want him gone just as much as you do."
"I really doubt that," Cole shot back. His eyes turned to Apollo. "What was your little nickname, again? Apple?"
"Apollo," the Reaper conduit gritted out with narrowed eyes.
"And what can you do?"
Apollo looked to Zeke, who nodded expectantly. Twisting his forearm to face his palm upward, he crafted a ball of light into his hand. He stared down Cole, as he did so. Cole's face hardened and glared back.
"I remember you," Cole growled out. "The park, two weeks ago. I almost killed you. You almost killed me, but then you ran." He tilted his head in deeper thought. "That was the same day…"
He took a threatening step forward, toward Apollo, and bolts of electricity poured out of one hand to wrap around his leather-clad arm.
"You came out of nowhere," Cole continued, speaking through his bared teeth. "You distracted me from finding her!"
"Findin' who?" Zeke interjected, clearly confused and wanting to know why the mood had shifted from terse to all-out volatile.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Apollo flippantly stated, bringing both arms down and trying to save as much of his power reserves as possible.
"She escaped," Cole kept his gaze on Apollo, ignoring Zeke's question. "I don't know how. I wasn't gone long enough for her to do it, without help. There was a box of men's clothes that was opened and gone through. The ties were evenly cut. She had help! Was it you?!"
"I saw you tearing up a city street and putting lives at stake!" Apollo hissed back. "I provoked you to get you away from that neighborhood and the crowds of people you were going to hurt, if not kill!"
"COLE!" Zeke finally yelled. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"
The sadistic conduit let his attention linger on Apollo for a few seconds longer, evaluating his competition, before finally answering Zeke.
"There's a girl here in the Neon, Catherine Lynd. Looks just like Trish, Zeke," Cole explained. Zeke looked astonished and then remorseful. "EXACTLY like Trish. Beautiful…" Cole's eyes clouded over at the unseen thoughts in his mind.
Apollo's gut wrenched with rage and an overwhelming desire for vengeance. But he forced himself to remain calm and unaffected. Now was not the time. Not yet. But Cole's day was coming.
"And?" Zeke asked with a terrified whisper. "What happened? What…what did you do, Cole?"
The terrorist blinked rapidly to bring himself out of his haze. He glared darkly at Zeke.
"I want. Her. BACK."
Zeke pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at the more-unstable-than-usual version of his former friend. "Apollo?" Zeke slowly turned toward his lieutenant. "Do you know this chick? This Catherine… Catherine…" He looked back to Cole. "Catherine who, again?"
"Lynd. Catherine Lynd," Cole bit back.
"Yeah, okay," Zeke nodded and returned to his previous question. "Do you know her?"
Apollo stared directly into Zeke's eyes, prepared to lie as convincingly as possible. "I have no idea who she is. I just know that I needed to step in before people got hurt."
Not even a beat passed, before Zeke addressed Cole. "You see? He's just a do-gooder, Cole. A wannabe hero." Zeke's face fell, then. "He's kind of what…what I hoped you might turn into."
"I'm no pansy," Cole said with an air of disgust. He looked to Apollo, to see if the insult landed, but Apollo was done with both men. The white-and-black Reaper took a few steps back, as if to distance himself from the rest of their dealings. Cole gave a slight smirk and turned back to Zeke. "I'll tell you what, old friend. You want me to scratch your back? That's fine, but I'm going to ask you to return the favor. I'll help you fight Alden, if you'll help me find Catherine."
"Well, how the hell am I supposed to track her down?" Zeke complained.
"You have the Reapers to help you," Cole pointed out, giving a side-eye to Apollo. "She's in the Neon, somewhere. I don't care how long it takes. Find her, bring her to me." His eyes flashed excitedly. "And, I'll tell you what. I'll sweeten the deal on your end."
Zeke nodded, "I'm listening."
"Once Alden is dead and I have Catherine back, I'll surrender the Neon to you."
SHIT.
"What does that mean?" Zeke asked, skeptically.
"It means," Cole clarified, speaking slowly. "I will leave the Neon alone, completely, and I promise not to set foot on your turf without your permission. It may not be all of Empire City, but, admit it. It's what you're really fighting for."
SHIT. SHIT. SHIT!
Apollo saw the acceptance in Zeke's expression before the man agreed to Cole's terms. There was nothing spoken, but Zeke was the first to thrust his hand toward the space between them. Cole grabbed hold and shook with a dastardly smile. Zeke looked just as corrupt, at that moment.
How do I conceal Catherine? What if Zeke sends out Reapers door-to-door? I need to warn her. I need to figure out –
Apollo wasn't paying attention, when Cole brought his hand up to send out a shockwave.
"But I still hold this jackoff responsible," Cole said to Zeke, but spoke about Apollo. "He dies today!"
The shockwave pulsated from his hand, before Apollo could respond. It sent the other conduit flying backward in slow motion, off the ledge of the skyscraper, and down toward the street below. The last action Apollo took was to use his own blast to slow his descent, directing a blast of energy toward where gravity was pulling him, right before he was going to hit. For a mere microsecond, he was floating, suspended about nine-tenths of the way down. Then he fell, again, and there was nothing to cushion his fall. He vaguely heard the sounds of screams around him, but they sounded distorted, as if they were under water. His vision blurred to red, then black, as he lost consciousness.
He woke up groggily, feeling as if he was coming out of a coma. The light around him was too bright. It instantly gave him a headache. He groaned, but he couldn't move any part of his body. He looked around, but his vision was foggy. And, in the white haze, a figure emerged, slowly coming into detail.
"Hey, man!"
Zeke. Too enthusiastic. Too much.
"You back, buddy? You gave us quite a scare, there! Actually, I'm amazed you're still alive. Either you had some quick thinking on the way down, or you're way stronger than any of us thought," he finished the sentence and laughed heartily.
"Where…am I?" Apollo barely got out. His voice was a raspy whisper.
"Warehouse. North Beach," Zeke said with an obvious smile. But at least there was no laughter. "I called on a few of our boys in the area to help me drag you here." The room darkened considerably, then, and Aura was now alongside Zeke, glaring purposefully at him. He suddenly looked sheepish and added, "Aura helped, too."
Apollo couldn't feel most of his body, so he asked, "my mask?"
"Still on, compadre," Zeke reassured the injured man. "I respect you too much to go and betray your trust like that. I told Cole as much, after he blasted you off that roof. Said, DAMMIT COLE! THAT'S ONE OF MY BEST MEN!...We did take your coat off, though."
"Why…why can't I…move?"
"Had to sedate you to let your body heal. You're welcome, by the way. We only brought you out of your resting state to ask you a couple of questions."
"How long…?"
"You've been out for two days, amigo."
"Two…DAYS?" Apollo felt his hand twitch, and in the next instant it felt like pins and needles were stabbing the newly-moved area. He did his best to ignore the pain. Catherine! I've been gone for two days? I have to get back…
"If we could figure out a way to help you heal at night, the whole process might've been easier. But we tried everything: lamps, flashlights surrounding your body, neon and fluorescent lighting flooding the space. Nothing worked! Nothing but the sun, really. You only seem to get better during daytime."
"I…need to…go…" He pushed with all of his might to lean up in the cot that he was on, but he only managed to briefly move his head.
"Now, that's enough of that!" Zeke chided. "I've answered your questions, saved your damn life. It's time for you to answer mine!"
Apollo was actually puzzled. What does he want to know?
"First off, you weren't tellin' the whole truth, back there, to Cole, were you?" But Zeke plowed right through, without waiting for Apollo to respond. "Don't try to tell me otherwise. I covered for you, tellin' Cole you were a hero and all that. But you did lead Cole on a wild chase, weak and not ready for a fight, for what reason?"
Zeke bent down and looked Apollo straight in the eye. "Tell you what, Apollo. If I had just helped someone escape, and that someone had no powers, the first thing I would do would be to get them on the train and have them take it to the other side of town. And then, if it got a little too hot, I'd try to take Cole away from the train, toward the middle of the Neon." He gave Apollo a knowing, superior smirk. "We looked up Catherine Lynd. We know where her apartment is. And, son of a gun, if we look at where you and Cole ended up, it kinda looks like you might've done exactly what I would've done!"
Zeke leaned back up. Aura looked mildly interested, but in no way invested.
Apollo's voice was coming back to him. "You're…crazy…if you think…that I had…this whole plan…" The words were still broken, but they were getting noticeably stronger.
"AND," Zeke interrupted, "even if I believe that you were truly bein' a good Samaritan, although a stupidly unprepared one, there's another little problem. We keep track of everything you take from the warehouses. Food, drinks, clothes, toiletries. Can't have anyone takin' more than their fair share. And you've always been very predictable, except for the past month. When you've been takin' twice as much food as normal, as well as women's clothing and products. You start datin' someone special in this past month, or so? Could it be a…Catherine Lynd?"
Whatever drugs were still lingering in his system were certainly helping Apollo. He could now feel how relaxed his face was. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Zeke with indifference.
"I don't know…who Catherine Lynd is. I do know…that my personal life…is my own. And if I'm suddenly…getting stuff for a woman I've recently reconnected with, I feel like I should be allowed to do that. I shouldn't have to explain my…wanting to hookup, while…in isolation."
The paragraph was as much as he could handle in one sitting, and he took in large breaths to compensate.
Zeke was skeptical. Aura was slightly more amused by the conversation.
"If we find her, we can end this," Zeke pressed on.
It won't stop, you fool. But I need to leave. I can't disagree or make him more suspicious.
"Fine," Apollo gritted his teeth. He wanted to appear unhappy about abandoning his noble morals, but also be in solidarity with Zeke. A loyal Reaper. "Then let's send out teams to search for her."
Zeke looked at Aura, who kept her eyes on Apollo. "I'm already a step ahead of you," he hinted, without looking at Apollo. "Aura, put him back down. One more day of sun, and he should be healthy as a race horse." He turned back to Apollo and radiated a big smile. "See you soon, hero!"
The large man left the room set up for Apollo's recovery, and Aura looked down at Apollo. Her face was still indifferent toward his suffering, but she paused to listen to him speak.
"Aura, please! I can't stay!" Apollo pleaded. His limbs were slowly coming alive, and he knew that he would be leaving as soon as he was able to be upright. But not if Aura didn't let him go. There was no way he could fight her, depleted and still injured from his fall. "You know I can't stay."
She regarded him with a cocked head, but a bored expression. "Is it her?"
"Who?" he asked, feigning ignorance. She gave him a hard look. She wouldn't easily buy his deception.
He had a choice: continue to bluff or tell her the truth and hope for mercy. It wasn't an easy decision. It felt like an unwinnable scenario. If he pissed her off, she would knock him out and he'd be another day behind. But only a day. But it might be too long gone to save Catherine from Zeke's search parties. If he told her the truth, she might turn on him. Give the information to Zeke, who might try to torture the information out of him, for all he knew.
He took a breath and looked deeply into Aura's eyes. "Yes," he admitted quietly. "Yes, it's her."
She nodded and stepped back. "Then leave. And don't fail her."
Apollo wanted to feel relieved, but he didn't trust Aura enough to believe that she had given him a green light. She sat on a chair across the room, waiting patiently for him to get up. It took several minutes for him to be able to sit up on the cot. He looked over at her, breathing hard, as he slowly dragged his legs to one side.
"What do you think happens, after we finally take out Cole?" The question popped up in his mind, lingering from Catherine's inquiry over a week ago. At the time, he'd given her his own assumptions. He wanted to hear Aura, another Reaper, say the same answer.
"Why?" was her apathetic reply.
"Humor me," he shot back, knowing he was pushing his luck. "What are you going to do?"
Aura stared back at Apollo, obviously thinking.
"I'm going to be a Reaper and follow Zeke's orders. Or whomever else is in charge," she shrugged.
"But…" he began, "Cole will be dead, or, no longer a threat, at least. What are we going to do, as Reapers?"
She stayed silent, and Apollo knew that either she was hesitating to answer or was genuinely pondering his question. The latter seemed highly unlikely, seeing as she had recently taken to staying close to Zeke's side.
She knows something.
"Has Zeke said anything?" he gently prodded. The feeling was returning to his limbs. He was fairly certain he could stand, although he knew the action would make him ache all over.
Aura's eyebrows hitched up, within the eyeholes of her mask.
"The cops have been decimated," she led off. "The quarantine won't end with Cole's death, you know that. We'll take control of the entire city." She stopped herself abruptly, as if she was about to say more.
"Martial law?" he whispered.
"Better us than anyone else."
"I just want this all to be over," Apollo shook his head. He stood and Aura stood, too. He grabbed his coat and rolled it into a ball under his armpit. When he went to leave, she blocked his exit and he stopped in his tracks.
"You may think you're a good guy. A hero," she cruelly taunted him. Then she pulled up the sleeve of her white coat to reveal her Reaper tattoo. "But you signed the same contract as the rest of us. 'One way in, blood; one way out, death.' And don't you forget it, Apollo."
Aura let go of her sleeve and the garment righted itself back into position. She backed out of Apollo's path to let him leave.
He thought about that conversation and its implications for the two hours it took for him to return home.