CHAPTER 6: Savior
Logan was only semi-conscious now, and no matter how hard he tried he could only maintain clarity of thought for mere minutes before fading into a gray zone again. Sounds intruded into that fog seemingly from a distance and distorted such that he couldn't make out what he was hearing. He wondered vaguely if he had suffered a concussion at the hands of the Tank. A faint smile graced his pallid face as that thought drifted through, it was what he had dubbed the soldier with Carrot Top. The man was unstoppable, like a Tank. He had done nothing about the bullets still in him, Logan remembered, a full clip of fifteen bullets and was still walking and talking as if it was nothing. Maybe he was wearing a bulletproof vest?
His unfocused eyes drifted toward the kitchen where the two soldiers had retired after drinking his bottle of pre pulse on the balcony. He had heard them discussing him, and Max, and how they had known that he had tried to warn her off. How they also believed that Max would come anyway. He scowled at that, hoping that Max would use her common sense for once. That damned rebellious streak of hers though, the Reds were probably right, she would probably come anyway. He wished, suddenly, that the ordeal were over with, one way or another.
"No!" His head jerked sharply at the thought that slammed through his skull, "You're going to make it Cale," Yet, another, more sarcastic voice replied, "Yeah right."
He moved his left hand off of his right arm, as the feverish flesh became uncomfortably warm to his touch. He glanced down at his broken arm blanching again at the sight of it. His right hand was completely numb and the fingers were stiff with the swelling. A huge bruise was welling up around what had to be the point of the break. He tried to wiggle a finger, but nearly fainted from the pain of the motion. He shook his head slightly knowing that he needed medical attention soon. How soon was all up to the Reds. He shook his head and looked back at a spot on the carpet, his eyes losing focus again.
Logan felt himself drift off unable to stop the event, only to jerk awake again as his head fell sharply forward. He should put himself in a position so that going to sleep would be easy, but considering the kind of ordeal that entailed he didn't bother. If he were suffering a concussion sleeping would be the worst thing that he could do. He blinked several times again trying to focus and stay awake.
That is when he heard it, or thought he heard it... the dull thud of something landing on the roof over his dining area, followed by a sliding sound down the angle of the roof. His senses came into sharp focus at the sound of it.
Without moving his head he looked at the spot where he had last heard it, looking for movement to confirm that he was not hallucinating. He regretted again that his glasses had been destroyed, his near-sightedness was bad enough that he couldn't make out any details at the distance that the terrace was. His injury and pain was doing nothing to help matters. As he moved his eyes they began to ache in a vain effort to focus on his surroundings. The harder he stared the more his eyes ached and soon it turned into a headache that beat in time with the pounding in his arm.
His eyes finally picked up blurry motion nearer him, and closing in on the balcony door. The shape was crouched low and darting from cover to cover as if to avoid detection. His heart leapt in his chest at the sight, realizing that his savior had come.
Logan's gaze moved to the dining area, where the two Reds had been since they determined that he was no threat. Occasionally he could hear the ting of metal on wood as Carrot Top finally removed Logan's bullets from Tank's flesh and dropped them onto the expensive hardwood table. Logan wondered vaguely just how many dents he was going to have to get sanded out of the finish. He heard sizzling and smelled flesh burning as wounds were cauterized. When he was sure that they were well occupied with repairing Tank's wounds, Logan turned his attention back to the window.
Logan knew he wasn't hallucinating and figured that the crouching figure getting nearer was probably Max. He was happy to see her, and yet he was angry that she had not heeded his warning, "Damn it, I thought she had more sense than this..."
He caught the motion again out of the corner of his eye and looked over his shoulder to find the blurry outline of Max staring at him, face plastered to the pane, and probably trying to see past the mirrored tinting. Logan glanced quickly back to the dining room, sending his head swimming, but he assured himself that Carrot Top and Tank were not returning. He looked at her shaking his head negatively and motioning discreetly toward where they had parked themselves. He then motioned to her to go away.
Max nodded understanding, and then shrugged mouthing, "How many?" At least that was what it had looked like in his distorted vision. Logan raised two fingers off his knee and tapped them down several times as if he was bored. If either of his captors were paying attention they would interpret the move as frustration or boredom.
The young Transgenic nodded again, sidestepped to the door, and quietly opened it to slip inside. She tiptoed to him crouching down and scanning the area around her looking for the two soldiers. Glancing once toward the kitchen she turned her almond eyes to Logan. She slowly took his features in, concerned with his condition at the hands of the Red's. She grimaced at the sight of his arm, for it was ugly and purple with swelling. Each of his fingers looked like short, round, and plump hot dogs and the nail beds were blue. She slowly reached over touching his arm, drawing back quickly at the heat she could feel coming off of his flesh.
Her eyes moved over him again, but the only other injury that she could see was a nasty looking cut on the left side of his nose. That side of his face was slightly swollen and an abrasion oozed where he had probably met carpet sharply. He was probably going to have a real nice shiner when all was said and done.
"What are you doing here?" Logan whispered barely audible glancing back at the kitchen again. He was at once angry and relieved to see her, "I thought you understood that I didn't want you coming here!"
"I understood alright," she confirmed not meeting his eyes, "But I'm hard headed like that," she straightened, looking down at him. He was scowling up at her, but his eyes reflected how glad he really was that she had come, "Brought you a present," She produced a pistol from the back of her pants and extended it to him, "It's all set to go... be ready."
"I thought you didn't 'do guns'," Logan said as he took it from her with his left hand. The weight of it in his hand bolstered his confidence about staying alive to see the end of this.
Max's face fell to reveal a more dour mood, "I've made a lot of exceptions to my rules today..." the mood was fleeting as she brightened again, "'Sides I'm not using it, it's for you," Before he could say anything else, she was out the door to the terrace again.
He frowned slightly as he tucked the gun into hiding, but within easy reach when he needed it. It was a choice between him and the Red's he was going to end up on the top of that list, or give it a hell of a shot in the trying. He knew, there were no "ifs" about it, the use of the gun was a matter of when. If anyone could present him with an opportunity, it would be Max.
Back outside Max skirted Logan's terrace until she was at the window beyond the kitchen. She leaned against it to see past the tinting into the room beyond. She smiled seeing the two soldiers engrossed in the removal of the bullets still in the Larger one's chest. Neither of them aware of her presence, "Well lets see what I can do to fix that," she thought.
Smiling slyly Max rapped on the window drawing the attention of them both. By the looks on their faces she had surprised them with her miraculous appearance. They deftly jumped to their feet, turning to face her at the window. The red head yelled directions at the taller man, pushing him toward the kitchen door, "The terrace, get her, I'll keep an eye on the gimp," she heard him say. She frowned inside, what a bastard, talking about Logan like that.
Max watched momentarily as the larger one sprinted out of the room. She stuck her tongue out at the red headed man that remained, before disappearing from his view. She moved herself to a more defensible position and waited, she may make things up as they go but she always had the plan in the back of her head. A plan was forming right now that would end this threat permanently.
It didn't take the Red long to find her, though she was taking no pains to hide herself, "Hey, big boy," she greeted him, "Are you ready for round two?" His expression didn't change at all as he closed the gap between them, "They must disconnect their personalities at the same time as they disconnect their pain receptors," she thought.
Max took the offensive, lashing out with a flurry of kicks, chops, and punches driving the Red back several feet. She thought she was doing very well, when he suddenly began blocking all of her throws. This drove Max back and away from her objective, frustrating her immensely. She was not given time to compensate as he stepped in and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground and hurling her through the air. Her body compressed heavily as she impacted the large window behind her and then hit the deck winded. She was stunned for a moment. Shaking her head out Max looked back at the window, relieved when it showed no signs of damage. The last thing she needed was to owe Logan for another window!
Max started to push up but the Red reached her first, grabbing her by the collar and dragging her to her feet again. She turned this to her advantage, and using his body as a springboard Max somersaulted backwards. She kicked out viciously with a foot as it came up catching the red in the chin and knocking him back several feet. Max completed the arch landing on her feet and watching the Red as he closed the distance between them again. As he neared her, she sprung away from him directing her feet up the wall, walking it horizontal to the ground until she was behind his position. He reached out to stop her, his grasping fingers just missing a hold of her jacket. She grinned at his frustrated face, and he pivoted as he tracked her motion, setting up to resume the fight when she touched the ground again. She smiled again as she understood that she was now where she wanted him to be.
Max moved in quickly taking the Red by surprise and pushed him back with the fury and swiftness of her attack. These guys were strong to be sure but they could not match her speed. The larger man made several attempts to regain the upper hand in the fight, landing some very powerful blows on her slight body. She ignored them her whole body intent on what she was doing. The Red was losing ground and coming closer to Max's objective. Suddenly she stopped her frontal assault and executed another acrobatic flip, ending up between him and the rail that guarded people from a fall. Before he could turn to face her, she had lashed her arms around his throat and shoulder. With practiced ease she hooked her feet in the supports of the rail and flipped her self, and consequently the Red, over the edge of a 35-story drop to the street below. The Red scrambled for a hold of Max realizing what she was about to do, but Max's hold on his body restricted the movement of his arms. His grasping hands met empty air. She let go of the Red, hanging upside down as she watched him fall. He did not scream as he fell, but the look of surprise and horror was easy to read on his face.
She crossed her arms across her chest, "That's one he won't walk away from," she said triumphantly and smiling at her own ingenuity. Now there was just the Norm leader.
The night was split by a single gunshot originating from the penthouse, and instantly righted, unhooked from the balcony rail, and sprinted toward the terrace door. She stopped abruptly at the scene that greeted her eyes. Logan sat at the couch his body limp and his head slumped forward on to his chest. He didn't look to be breathing. Of the leader of the Reds she saw nothing. There was a sinking feeling in her gut, and she tried to breathe.
"No," Max whispered. Her mind automatically jumped to the worst of the conclusions that she could make. In her mind it all played out for her, almost as if she had actually witnessed it.
The red head had seen that his soldier was losing, had seen him go over the edge. In a fit of rage he had decided to take away Max's reason for returning, to see her comrade safe. Then the Red leader had fled fearful of the repercussions if Max had caught up with him. If Logan was dead than all her efforts here tonight had availed her nothing. She would again be responsible for something that had happened to her benefactor. A part of her refused to believe it was true, and the two differing opinions warred inside her until her stomach filled with anxious butterflies.
Slowly and fearfully she moved closer to Logan's still form. From the side she could see that there was blood splatter on him, and it confirmed her worst fear. She rushed the last few feet stopping dead as she nearly tripped on the body at Logan's feet. It was the Red leader, his lifeless eyes reflecting the surprise at his own demise. His hand was still on the couch and she could see now the streaked finger marks on the expensive material. One strengthless hand held a large caliber pistol, the arm that held it was pinned under the body and the gun lay next to his nose. Next to the body was the pistol that she had provided Logan with. She crouched down touching looking Logan over closely, trying to determine whether he had become a victim, or had survived. There was a large stain of blood on Logan's clothes just above the belt line, and Max worried that it had been a double shooting, that the Red had gotten Logan at the same time he had shot the man. She reached over with shaking hands toward that stain, intent on disproving that theory.
There was no hole in the shirt that she could find, but before she could be relieved about the discovery Logan's body spasmed in reaction to her touch. Max jerked back, startled by the reaction, and nearly fell over the body just behind her heels. When she could finally breathe again, she leaned closer to Logan's face. Relief hit her like a physical thing when his head raised up in short jerky motions until his eyes finally met her own. Max smiled ignoring the tears that had welled into her eyes and reached out a hand to his face. Logan said nothing for long moments just staring at her in a bleary way. He looked weary and pain wracked and a resignation had settled onto his feature that looked as if it would be there permanently.
Her eyes searched his slightly swollen face, "You OK?"
He nodded, blinking slowly. He reached his good hand out and touched her face, seeming to want to say something, but no words came out. He seemed to think better of it and nodded allowing his hand to drop from her face. He looked away from her then his movements unsteady.
Uncertainly Max stood up stuffing her hands into her back pockets, "We need to get you an ambulance," she said to cover the sudden awkwardness.
In true Max fashion she dialed 911, said a quick goodbye and left the apartment, not needing to get involved in the investigation that would surely follow two dead bodies and an obvious assault on Logan's person, and property. Logan nodded again to himself, understanding the aloofness that came with a life on the run. He had wanted her to stay, he had wanted to thank her, tell her just how much it had meant that she had come for him. The moment had proved too awkward however, to many doubts fogged his already pain addled mind. He had let her go, leaving the words unsaid, knowing that there would be another time, a better time to make his feelings known. But would there be a better time?
Max stayed close-by after leaving Logan's side, watching discreetly from a distance to make certain that Logan's ordeal was over, that no more reinforcing Reds appeared, and that he received what help he needed. When the police and the ambulance had come, she just as discreetly faded into the background.
She had wanted to stay with him, be there until the ambulance came to be sure that he was going to make it, but she could not find herself involved in that kind of attention. Sighing Max moved off down the street, feeling oddly good about her deeds this night, even if no one but her and Logan would ever know the truth about it.