Chapter Three: The Patient
There was no way Courtney was going to take it to a hospital. The hospital would probably, no definitely, make a media event out of it, if they treated it at all. She had decided immediately upon finding the creature that she would treat it herself. She was an EMT, she had all the supplies she needed, readily available near her home, and would treat him there. Her apartment was close to a branch medical center, where she worked part time for the doctors. She had her own key, it made it very convenient and very private. She just hoped that Earthen medicine would agree with him.
Arriving at her small downtown apartment, Courtney retrieved a stretcher from the center. She rushed out positioning it at the open back of the van. After a few vein-bursting pulls with no success, it was obvious that Courtney was going to have to enlist someone's help to slide the creature onto the gurney. She chewed a nail nervously, trying to come up with a feasible plan to get some one to help her. She snapped her fingers as a thought occurred to her. Shutting the van doors, she rushed back inside grabbing two or three sheets, and as quickly as she could covered the alien from head to foot, so that none of his features were visible. She peered around the van looking for a likely candidate for the kind of strength she needed. She was going to have to do this well, if she let him think for a minute that she would lose him. After about twenty minutes not one but two likely looking candidates strolled her way. She made like she had just pulled up. She ran up to the two of them, "Hey, I need some help here!" she said loudly grabbing the nearest and dragging him behind her, "The clinic staff is inundated right now, this patient's critical and I need to get him inside now!" He had just the right look of dumbfoundedness. His buddy came around the van's corner. "Hey you can help too, y'know!" she shoved him toward the close end of the stretcher, while the first man scrambled inside to pick up the far end. Courtney held the gurney steady while they grunted with the sheer weight of her "Patient".
"This guy's huge." the first man stated.
"And he weighs a ton." The other added.
"Yeah, he's some kind of football player." she lied, but the answer placated the two helpers. Once the creature was on the gurney and strapped down Courtney yelled thanks over her shoulder and whipped the gurney into the clinic. She took the gurney around a corner and stopped. She peered back around, watching the two men. They shared a couple of stupefied glances and slowly continued down the street. Courtney breathed a sigh of relief, glad the two of them had not noticed the lack of patrons at the clinic, nor the fact that no lights illuminated the inside. She moved to the doors locking them, and took the gurney to an alley door. She stayed there long enough to pile a few extra medical supplies on the gurney. She moved the creature out and locked the clinic tight. Then she moved her charge swiftly through the back entrance of her building and into her apartment.
She felt lucky, for once, that her apartment was on the first floor. She drew the curtains, and made sure that all the doors were locked for complete privacy. She then broke out all of her medical supplies, laying them out on the nearby coffee table. She treated the wound on its arm first. Using a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers, she began retrieving small fragments of material still embedded in the flesh. It was an excruciating process but necessary for it to heal properly. Once or twice the creature stirred, or a low growling could be heard. She praised whatever deity there be that he never fully woke, each twitch made her want to hide. She cleaned and dressed the wound, moving to casting the broken arm. She had a hard time getting even the small wounds to stop bleeding. The creature's blood was thinner than human blood and did not coagulate near as fast. It made her wonder what had prevented him from bleeding to death before she had found him.
When she finished tending to those and the less serious cuts and lacerations, she sat slumped in the chair, studying it's features. The mask it wore was most disquieting, the lenses covering its eyes made it look as if the creature was awake and watching her. It was made of a metal resembling brass, as was most of the gear he wore. Four hoses were attached to the mask and ran down to the pack that it wore on its back. His 'clothing' consisted of a type of fishnet under-suit, covered sparsely with a light armor; leg guards, gauntlets, shoulder protection, and chest plates. All of which would not come off of his person, something Courtney needed to check for further injuries.
Her first assumption seemed correct, it seemed reptilian, lacking only the tail of a lizard. Both its feet and hands were clawed, definite signs of a predatory creature. The feet even had a thumb-like toe, probably providing extra balance, or maybe for gripping things. Its skin had a scaly look, though it was overall very smooth to the touch, more like a frog or a toad, she told herself. It was humanoid in form, whose body color was a mixture of browns and oranges. It's 'Hair' was made up of solid tentacle like growths. They reminded her of dreadlocks. Every other strand was adorned with at least one decorative ring, some of metal; resembling brass, but most were bone, vertebrae if her guess was right.
She turned her attention to the assortment of items she had managed to get off of the creature. Everything on the table suggested a considerable intelligence, more advanced than any Earthen technology. They made a contradictory statement to the clothing it wore, which she likened to something Celts and Vikings once wore. What had made her job of cleaning his wound so hard sat at one end, she could not even decipher what it had been, so she left it be. She picked up the other armband and studied it. It was a gauntlet made of a rigid material, two long rectangles were mounted atop it, standing about an inch and a half from the band. It had covered his arm from wrist to elbow, (though on her it would cover her arms three quarters of the way up). Somehow she triggered it, and two very lethal looking blades popped out of their receptacles. She shuddered and dropped it immediately. Courtney looked back to the creature, from shoulder to hip he wore a sling. The sling was strung with teeth, bones and skulls of various sizes. Strapped to his waist was a dagger, about a foot long, snow white in color, well used she could see by the faded carvings on its handle.
A chill ran up her spine, she looked to the knifed gauntlet on the floor and back to the creature. Why was this thing here? She wondered suddenly, the weapons, the skulls, reminded her of...of a hunter. But, what was he hunting here?
She did not want to answer that.
But, a trickle of a story told to her by a friend invaded her mind. About a creature who made trophies of men, of mutilated bodies, stripped of skin, and hung from rafters. About how the thing killed a car full of subway passengers, but spared her friend, for a reason even her friend did not know.
She sat there chewing her lip wondering if she had just let the wolf in with the sheep, until exhaustion overtook her.
Several hours later, after the sun had set, Gui'Yata became conscious. He would have rested longer, but he felt as if he were choking. He was no longer pinned in the remnants of the building, in fact he was on his back in some sort of dwelling. Confused he sat up, fighting off dizziness and the pain screaming up his arms, to survey his new surroundings. He had been stripped of most of his weapons, he was still in possession of his disa, noan, and raspa, (the throwing disk, net, and retractable spear), that were still stored in his pack.
He was obviously in the main room of the dwelling, he caught glimpses of smaller rooms in the back. Everything reeked of non-organic materials, several different variations of seats were set up around the room, and in a pattern that confused him. The walls were flimsy, and not well insulated, one quake like he was used to would level the building easily.
There was a human female slumped in a chair across from where he lay. She was no more than five foot three, she had long hair, and a soft oval face. Out of habit, he studied the structure of her skull. How did such a meek specimen manage to remove all that rubble, and drag him here? He reminded himself that they were reasonably advanced and used machines for what they could not accomplish on their own. He would have to quell his prejudice just a bit more, give the creatures a little more credit.
His chest ached as he breathed, he ignored it for the moment. The wound on his arm had been bound in an absorbent material. The break in his right arm had been set it some kind of rigid material, preventing him from moving it at all. He snarled quietly, how hindering. Primitives, he thought, no knowledge of modern medicine. Small tingling pains rippled up and down his back, the smaller cuts and scrapes had also been treated. His head ached fiercely, but he attributed it to his earlier incident and thought no more of it.
He needed to get out of here, to get back to the hunt. Gui'Yata slid off the stretcher which unexpectedly rolled away, fell over the coffee table and clattered on the floor. The noise caused the occupant to start awake. Seeing him awake she leapt over the chair and hid a pretty impressive feat for someone not yet fully conscious. Gui'Yata assumed the best defensive position as restricted as he was, hissing at the human.
He could see that she was scared, but she mastered it well. Easing out from behind the chair, she moved toward him speaking in soothing tones.
"Hey now" she was saying, "I'm not going to hurt you." All the time thinking that she was being very stupid, he looked as if he thought of killing her.
Her attention was drawn away from the crouched creature by the ringing of the phone. It rang several more times, as she tried to decide whether or not to answer it. Slowly she backed away from the crouched growling form, toward the phone positioned against the adjacent wall.
"Hullo?" she said huskily into the receiver, keeping a wary eye on her lethal visitor.
"Kill it!" Gui'Yata's training kept telling him. She was not armed, but the thing that had made that noise, it was...a communications device. She might tell someone of him. He stood slowly, reaching for his disa, but when he threw it he knew immediately the aim was off. It was his off arm, and a stab of pain made him pull the trajectory off.
Courtney had not gotten two words out of her mouth when she saw the movement. She instinctively ducked falling to the floor, and the phone receiver came away with her, the cord neatly severed. She stared at it momentarily, as the weapons shadow passed over her on its return arc. He had tried to kill her! She should have been scared, but she was instead incensed. She pushed herself off the floor.
Gui'Yata sidestepped the weapon, being unable to catch it, he let it stop in the couch behind him. He watched as she got up, and approached him! "You ungrateful son of a bitch!" She said angrily. He was surprised when she swung for him with the phone receiver. So surprised that it connected, and shattered into little pieces against the material of his helmet. It was his turn to react, he raised his free hand claws spread wide, but her lack of anticipated reaction stopped him short. She just stood there panting angrily. He dropped his hand to his side, cocking his head in confusion.
His vision started to blur, and he began to get dizzy again, taking his concentration away from the human. He shook his head, grabbing at the edge of the mask.
Courtney fully believed that she had caused what was happening, with the blow she had delivered him. She had a terrible temper, which had only been made worse by an abusive ex-husband. "Are you alright?" she said guiltily, her anger forgotten.
There was something wrong with the mixture coming into his feed lines. The effect was intensified by the ache in his head and aggravated by his sudden movements. He stumbled over the table, and landing heavily on the couch, just barely missed the exposed edge of the disa still embedded in the fabric. He tore at the hoses, disconnecting them from his mask. The woman jumped at the hiss it made.
With his left hand he hooked his fingers under the lip, and struggled to get it off. His lungs were on the verge of bursting, and he began to growl in frustration and panic. The woman was slowly but steadily backing away, becoming more frightened as the growl gained volume. Finally the seal broke, and he threw the mask away from him gasping. He yelped snatching his arm back toward him when a stab of pain reminded him of his injury. Still panting he looked over at the female, a snarl still flickering in his features. She had a shaky hand over her mouth. With superb control she stopped shaking, slowly approached, and reached toward him. He hissed at her, and she withdrew slightly.
Courtney had thought he looked ugly with the mask on. But the mask covered an even nastier face. She was reminded of a pit bull. He had four fangs, which crossed over in the front, each fang was on a single independently controlled mandible. Beneath them was another set of teeth. Two occupied the top jaw like the fangs of a snake, and four were set on the bottom. All the teeth looked razor sharp. He was studying her just as close, and she began to wonder why she was sticking around. Now the laceration on his scalp glared wickedly at her. Her EMT training made her want to treat the cut, before secondary infection had a chance to set in. It was an ingrained habit to want to stop the pain for a patient; alien, human or otherwise.
Gui'Yata's breathing slowed, he thanked the Quona that this air of Earth was somewhat breathable. It seemed like breathing smoke compared to his usual mixture, but it would do, long enough for him to make repairs. He looked away from her, and closed his eyes trying to will the pain, and the swimming his head was doing, away. A light touch brought him back to his surroundings. Shapes were hard to discern without the special filters in his lenses. The woman was now right next to him. He wanted to strike out at her, but something about her... fascinated him.
"Are you OK?" she asked, prying his fingers away from the injury. He looked at her strangely. Her hand was warm, warmer than his own body temperature.
"OK" He said in English, it sounded rough, and it startled the woman. English was hard on the throat.
She continued to talk, all the while she was pulling the arm straight. She began to unwrap the bandage, distracting him with her words.
"So, you do speak."
Gui'Yata shook his head negatively, not her language anyway. He could feel her tension through her touch. She was frightened of him, but she still aided him. It was very strange, the elders had never told of this aspect of the human race. He was held in thrall by her unusual actions.
"No. That's odd it sounded like speech to me..." She trailed off, taking the last of the bandage away. The wound was infected.
Most of his forearm was swollen, he was still unable to feel his left hand, the numbness had moved up into his forearm.
Courtney noticed the swelling, also color of the skin, instead of a healthy orange was almost black. The smell was of something dead.
"Oh, my god." She whispered, surprised how fast the infection had spread.
With a light touch she probed the flesh seeing how far the infection had gone. She left for a moment, returning with steaming liquid and some cloth. She had totally forgotten what the creature represented, her only concern was the infection.
She dipped the cloth into the water, and wrung it out. She laid it onto the wound to stop the pain, and hopefully stop or reverse the swelling. He jumped in spite of himself, this time it actually was enough heat to burn, if only a little.
"Hot water and Epsom salt." She said not knowing that he did not really understand. He understood the inflection and the tone of the speech, as well as body language and gestures, which was part of a young Souas training. It was just a slight adaptation from having to learn such a complex language as theirs. From the sounds she made he could tell she was scared, apprehensive, but also curious and concerned for him. The curiosity stood out, overpowering her fears.
She removed, cleaned out and replaced the compress three times. She waited for the laceration to dry slightly, blowing on it to help it along.
Gui'Yata cocked his head to one side at such a strange gesture. Courtney seeing his look, smiled, turning red from embarrassment. He watched as the heat in her face increased changing the color from red to bright orange. She hurriedly went through her stock of supplies and pulled out another roll of gauze. But when she started applying it Gui'Yata pulled his arm from her grasp, shaking his head.
He propped his leg up on the couch, so he could reach a compartment on his calf, scaring Courtney enough as to make her stand up. He set his thumb to a detente, a small click sounded and a container about the size of a cigar box slid out.
"Oh, cool, a thumb-lock" Courtney said excitedly, pressing her finger onto the detente. Realizing what she had just done, she jumped back.
That look crossed over his four-fanged face again, "Thumb-lock?" he grated looking puzzled. Then he shrugged. He pulled the container free, and set it in front of him. He opened it and pulled out what looked to be a rod. But he released a latch and spread out the bottom pieces to form a bowl. Then he removed a small vial of iridescent blue liquid, and set it next to the bowl. Next with a grunt he broke the cast Courtney had so laboriously applied to his right arm.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing? I spent an hour putting that on!" At the same time as she amazed at the strength it must have taken to shatter the cast that easily.
He ignored her protests, crumbling some of the plaster into the makeshift bowl. He then broke the vial over the pieces, and stirred it with what looked like a butter knife. The contents turned into a jelly, which Gui'Yata proceeded to apply to the wound. She heard him draw a sharp breath, digging the claws into his palm, but he continued applying it to both sides of the gaping hole. After a few minutes, Gui'Yata flexed his hand. Feeling was already beginning to come back, meaning there was no permanent damage to the nerves. The intensity of the pain eased as the pain killers took effect, essentially numbing the surrounding tissue. Courtney marveled at the covered wound, her anger replaced with curious excitement, poking cautiously at the cured substance.
"Totant" He said pointing to the substance. He asked himself why he was instructing her about his medical supplies. But the thought slipped away as fast as it had entered his head.
Courtney saw him wince, the bone in his other arm must have slipped. "Totant?" She repeated and he nodded, "That is really something, you could teach our medics some things," another part of her thinking that he should never have removed the cast.
Next he produced a wide band, which looked like pot metal, two squares glowing slightly, accented one end. He held his arm out, and motioned for Courtney to pull. She seated herself on the table, looking apprehensive, rubbing her sweating palms on her jeans, but when he nodded she took a tight hold of his wrist with both hands and pulled. She felt the bone slip into place, and was almost pulled of the coffee table by his reaction. He relaxed slightly, concentrating on what he was doing. She held it steady while he wrapped the suddenly limber band around the area of the break. Then he motioned for her to release her hold. He again tested the devices, bending his arm at the elbow and flexing his left hand. He nodded, satisfied that he was again mobile.
"Wow, setting the arm without having to worry about the restriction of a cast." he looked up at her. She cautiously leaned over him to get a better look at the device. She noticed that the band moved to accommodate muscle volume when he flexed his arm.
"Sressra" he again instructed her, it was electromagnetic cast, keeping the bones in place with something similar to a force field.
"Sressra" She repeated. Gui'Yata was amused by her intense curiosity. It reminded him of some of the Saru in the Creche who questioned everything.
She looked again to the gash on his head deciding that treatment could wait no longer, "Let me take a look at this..." she murmured standing slowly and reaching toward his temple. Growling, not knowing what she was trying, he grabbed her arm and practically flung her across the room, she landed hard in the chair where she had been seated. She again got up, and staring him straight in the eyes took his wrist in her hand. She tried to raise it to his temple to show him what she had gone after. He yanked his arm from her grip, looking at her strangely.
"You have a cut on your head," she said, emphasizing with quick cutting motion and then pointing to her own head. He obviously still did not understand. In a move of desperation she quickly reached over and touched it, but she was not fast enough to get her hand clear before he had grabbed her again. He squeezed her wrist until it was almost unbearably painful. She twisted her hand to face him, even though it gave her an Indian burn, to show him the blood that was there.
He looked at her fingertips, and his brows furrowed. He released her, gruffly, and reached his own hand to his head, touching the ragged flesh. He clicked something she found incomprehensible, to himself. He shuffled a finger through the small medical kit lying on the table, burbling, in obvious agitation. He looked at the totant left in the bowl, then at her. His face may not be quite analogous to that of a human, but the emotions that played across his face were easily read. Something that was universal in humanoids, perhaps?
She shook her head negatively, "That won't do it." she said slowly, "For one you haven't got enough, and for another, it will never hold this," she pointed at his head, "together. But stitches will." She stood there thinking a while, then her body stiffened as she thought of her supplies. She left, and the creature looked after her retreating form. She was quickly back holding something. It was a curved needle and some stitching floss, and he snarled at the primitive device.
"Hey, it is not going to heal without it." She said beginning to get perturbed with this creature, it acted like a spoiled child, "This stuff dissolves in time..." she trailed off realizing he could never understand what she was saying. She threw up her hands in exasperation, plopping down in the chair, with one leg propped over the arm. She tossed the needle and cord on the coffee table, and resting her chin on her fist she fumed for a while.
They sat in stalemated silence, for a very long time. Curiosity got the better of the creature and it picked up the needle and thread to examine it closer, while Courtney studied the wallpaper pattern. Blood ran continuously down his brow ridge to trickle in his eye. He wiped it out becoming annoyed with it.
He looked over at the frustrated woman, looking concerned for a moment. He held the needle up, "Stitches." he stated in a tone of dejected agreement. She started, looking at him in surprise, from one corner of her eye. He leaned over the table motioning the needle at her. Slowly, cautiously she took it from him and stood. Moving around the coffee table she approached the large creature, suddenly nervous and shaky. She hoped he would not become angered if she hurt him in her attempt to help him. He looked at her a moment, as several emotions played across his face. She was amazed how easily she could read his emotions, they were no different from her own. The eyes were very expressive and told her how he was feeling, even when she could not read it in his features.
Slowly again, she turned around to grab a handful of gauze squares, and faced him again. He was still looking at her, but tilted his head down for her to have easier access to the cut. She daubed away the excess blood and began to make the first stitch. It was slow going at first, she had not done stitches in years. But soon she had regained her confidence and the stitches were done faster. This despite the fact that she had to wipe down the wound three and four times for each stitch. After an hour she had completed the ten stitches that were required to close the gash, the creature had not jumped once during the whole procedure. She blotted the last of the blood away and stepped back, admiring her own work.
The creature reached his hand up, encountering the stubble where the stitches had been tied. Gui'Yata was troubled by this woman, he had expected her to be afraid, and she was, but she had enough control not to let that fear rule her.
He felt as if he was betraying his training, taking help from this clusu. At the same time he was relieved that she was willing to risk her life to spare him an agonizing death. In confusion he jumped up.
Courtney jumped back as he unexpectedly stood up. Her jaw dropped five inches when she saw how he towered over her. Heck he would tower over just about anybody she knew. Little did she know that he was short for his race. He walked around her to where he had thrown his mask, seeming to have a hard time finding it. He leaned over to pick it up, and Courtney saw him jump, and one hand went to the left side of his chest. He was still for a moment, as if waiting for pain to subside. He straightened and made his way back to the couch. Setting the mask of the table in front of him, he sat up straight, setting his fingers into slots on either side of his chest plate. Courtney watched silently as there was a quiet click, and the large creature gingerly lifted the plate over his head, setting it next to him. His fingers deftly moved over the left side of his chest. Courtney reached tentatively to touch his chest, and he looked at her a moment. He moved his hand out of the way and allowed her to check it. Her hand moved slowly over that side of his chest, counting mentally the twenty-four ribs. They were wide and flat, and it was hard to discern where one ended and another began. But as she came to about the twelfth rib she discovered the cause of his pain. The twelfth through sixteenth ribs were broken. She shook her head, there was still no real way to cast ribs, to allow them to heal. But she turned to where her supplies were still scattered on the table, picking up a wide roll of surgical tape and a pair of scissors. She cut equal lengths of tape, and one by one applied them to his ribs. The creature watched her curiously, as if this was never done, as well that may be. She supposed these types of injuries were left untreated in his society. Often times it was the same in her own, for the advisability of the treatment was often in question. When she finished she sat back looking at him, possibly for approval. He ran a hand over the strips of tape. He looked at her strangely again then continued his business as if she no longer existed to him.
He then reached to the table picking up his mask. He studied it intently for several minutes, then set it down. While he retrieved a tool kit from another armor compartment, Courtney picked up the mask and studied it. Where she had seen him disconnect the two hoses there was a fitting. The fitting had been flattened, probably when he was buried in the building. Gui'yata knew, each of the hoses carried a different gas to be mixed in the mask, his dizziness was the result of the crushed fitting, which made the mixture uneven. It was similar to a human suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning.
Courtney continued to study the mask, the inside of which was set up intricately, to her it looked like...
"This looks like some sort of complex oxygen mask!" She exclaimed, "And this is where you get your air." She pointed to the fitting, then covered her face to signify the mask, taking an exaggerated breath.
Gui'Yata glanced at her and nodded.
She continued, "So, you were suffocating because the line was crushed and there were no vents. Tch, that's the only poorly designed piece of equipment I have seen in your possession! It still beats what we got."
She put it up to her face and looked through a lense, they being too widely spaced for her to see through both.
Everything turned to colored shapes, each color significant to the amount of heat in an object.
"Infrared, very effective. What's your vision like normally?" she asked pointing at her eyes.
He shook his head negatively, giving a thumb down.
"Not good? Augmented and filtered through the lenses of the mask." she mused to herself. That explained his minor difficulty in moving around the room.
He held out his hand and motioned, Courtney handed the mask back to him, when she realized that was what he wanted. He quickly removed the fitting and replaced it with a spare from his small box of tools. He then did the same to the hose coupling. He looked closely at the structure of the mask. It was badly twisted in the back, and the left crown was flattened. Both requiring tools he did not have available to repair. But the seal was still intact, and did not give him any discomfort. He guessed it would suffice until the hunt was finished. He set it down again as he stood and again donned his chest armor. When he had resealed the latches, he set the mask on his face, hooking it up, he took a deep breath. Courtney found herself holding her breath, she let it out when she saw that he was breathing normally. He began a singsong of trills clicks and burbles. The sound was fluid, obviously his language, having heard similar earlier. He sounded satisfied with the work. He glanced at the coffee table and he abruptly cut off his banter.
Gui'Yata then picked up what used to be his computer. It was still stained with blood. He opened it anyway, examining the remains, hoping beyond hope. He touched several studs, but was met by no response from the device. He furiously threw it on the table, watching as more pieces flew from the wrecked instrument. There was no hope for it, no chance for a clean death if he was captured. No way of hiding from the prying eyes of prey. He spun grabbing the Disa roughly from the couch material.
It took him a few moments to calm himself. He told himself that he had probably been lucky that the device had not detonated when impacted. When he was feeling a little more objective, he continued checking over his supplies. He was now glad that he had not been killed, for now the hunt could go on. Thanks to the diminutive woman who dwelled here.
He touched a switch on the side of his helmet and the plasma cannon responded, sliding out over his left shoulder. He panned back and forth making sure the gun would still track by line of sight. He again touched the switch sending the gun back into hiding. There was one hose that dangled from his left arm, the hose that had been connected to his arm computer. He made quick work of it, cutting it off just below his shoulder pad.
He then picked up his sraha, strapping it to his right arm. Flexing several times he protracted and retracted the knives, checking their sharpness.
He realized then how quiet the other occupant of the room had gotten. The woman looked frightened again, Gui'Yata thought as he turned back toward her.
"The hunt is on, huh" she said quietly, "I know what you are." Panic beginning to rise inside her. She had not thought about his reason for being on Earth, not since he had become conscious. He had seemed nothing like the stories she had been told, her curiosity probably blinded her. But now, she realized that she might have made a fatal mistake. She might just lose her life for it, he was the hunter, she, the prey.
He stood there staring at her a long time, though he did not seem to really see her. After about ten minutes he nodded imperceptibly, coming to his decision. He took a step toward her, she retreated reasoning that he was going to kill her, to cover his tracks. He reached up, and pulled off one of his ornaments. One of the metal ones. Before she could back away any further, he had grabbed her by the wrist. He was as strong as he looked, showing no weakness from his injuries. He pushed his thumb into her palm, forcing her to spread her fingers. He took the ornament and slipped it onto one of her digits. She looked even more shocked.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He mimicked her voice perfectly. Tapping on his chest he said, "Gui'Yata", dropping back into his usual grating voice, he made sure to enunciate, otherwise she would never understand.
"Courtney" She said mechanically, too shocked to move.
"Good-bye, Courtney." With that he slipped out the open window and climbed the wall to the roof. She was vaguely amazed at the ease in which he scaled the building.
"Good-bye." She said meekly. Suddenly she felt as if she had been out in a hurricane. She was confused, still trying to calm her racing heart. That was the biggest emotional roller coaster ride she had been on since she left her husband.
"You're a lucky bitch, Courtney" she said sighing.
She plopped heavily onto the chair. Then she looked at the ornament Gui'Yata had given her, as a ring it covered her index finger up to the first knuckle. It was intricately carved, with laser precision. It was a picture of a planet and what looked like two brilliant suns. On the other side of the ring was a symbol, one she suddenly remembered seeing on his helmet. This was his home she thought with certainty. It was unfortunate that she would not truly appreciate the gift's significance.
Gui'Yata climbed swiftly to the top of Courtney's apartment building, and gaining the ledge stood, facing the north. He remained there momentarily, feeling the stiff breeze pull at his locks, tug at his lacing, feeling himself sway in time with its rhythms. He stripped off his armor, letting the wind kiss his bare flesh. It was invigorating, stripping him of that caged feeling, he was free, and alive. There was no one to watch over him this time, to restrict his actions; his first hunt away from the pack.
He challenged the rising moon, his howl an eerie counterpoint to the sounds of the city; listened as the feral dogs joined in the haunted chorus. His blood burned, in anticipation of the hunt, wanting the high of the kill.
He reined in that impulse, not tonight, it would have to wait. Pain still gnawed at his nerves, his ribs still ached, a injury he had no device to cure. He ran his hand over the tape still on his chest. The human Courtney had done an excellent job, binding them tight to keep them from moving. It restricted movement and breathing, but it was better than the alternative.
His brows knitted beneath the mask, She had saved him from certain agonizingly slow death. Had done her best with her limited knowledge to patch his broken body together. Yet he was now to prove himself by hunting her kind.
He shook his head angry at such thoughts. They were clusu, it was his right to the hunt, his place among his peers depended on this. He felt as though he needed to make up for his brothers' failure. He had marked the woman as spared from the hunt, his honor was upheld, he need not lament the deaths of the others who would fall before him.
He centered his thoughts holding tightly, desperately to that last notion, and stepped down off the ledge. He gathered his gear together and retreated to a semi-sheltered corner of the rooftop. He set his gear into the niche, and curled up against it to conserve heat. Even though his race could stand temperatures as low as thirty degrees Fahrenheit, cold temperatures could still slow their body functions. Traits that still bound them to their cold-blooded ancestors. They were at their optimum in hot weather. Even the hottest days had cold nights, however.
