Dawn woke up to the sound of a car pulling into the gravel driveway. Her first panicked thought was "They are coming for Dek!" She looked at her alarm clock . Three thirty in the morning, and totally dark. Her bare feet hit the cool floor as the engine shut off.
She felt in the laundry basket for the dirty jeans she'd tossed there last night. The basket was empty, except for a lonely sock. She decided that her flannel night gown would have to do.
She padded past the open bathroom door, and the tiny kitchenette, and put her hand on the frame of her old room mate's bed, which took up about a third of what was supposed to be the living room.
"Dek!" she whispered, patting the blanket carefully. "Wake up!" She grabbed the blanket, pulled it back, and realized that the shape on the bed was a pile of her dirty laundry. The sheets were totally cold. Wherever Dek was, he'd been gone for a while.
She looked out the front window. That was HER truck in front of the door, not over to the side under the trees where she parked it yesterday. The truck's door swung open. She glanced at the kitchen counter, and realized that her keys were missing. "I'm going to kill him!" she snarled.
Dawn grabbed a sweatshirt from the hook next to her door, pulled it on over her nightgown. It took only a moment to open the dead bolt, turn the knob, and then she was racing down the stairs. Past the owner's office, another couple of seconds to un-stick the latch on the front door.
The light from inside showed her Lydecker, leaning against the fender of her truck. She stood out on the little porch and let the door swing closed behind her.
"What the Hell do you think you are doing?" she hissed.
"Returning your truck." He held out her keys, but didn't move away from the truck.
"That's not what I meant. You are supposed to be asleep." Dawn wondered if she were old enough to start sounding like her mother.
"That's an excellent idea." He took a few unsteady steps from the truck to the porch, leaning on the cane. Dawn put out her hand, and he let her help him up the two steps and in through the front door.
In the light inside she could see dark red wetness sticking his pants against his leg. "You're bleeding again."
"I ran into a bit of trouble" Dek looked up the stairs with grim determination, and his fingers pressed into her shoulder with bruising force.
"Where were you?" asked Dawn, as Dek took the last step and let go of her shoulder.
"Visiting an old friend." Dawn motioned him towards the bed, and turned left into her bedroom to get scissors and things. She stopped at the kitchen sink to scrub her hands.
Dek examined his bloody slacks, and tossed them onto the rest of her laundry, which was now piled up under the window. "The bitch ripped his heart out, Dawn." He sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry." Dawn folded herself cross-legged on the carpet, and settled his foot in her lap. As she carefully scissored through the soggy gauze, she wished she could tell if she was hurting him.
"Do you ever want to help someone, but realize that there is nothing at all you can do?" She looked up, and noticed that he was staring at her collection of smiley-face fridge magnets, but not seeing them.
Dawn nodded, but didn't say anything. "Every time I look at you," she thought.
"I saw two more newspaper articles about transgeneics, yesterday." she offered, trying to change the subject. The last of the bandage fell away, and Dawn could tell that whatever Dek had been up to, he'd only managed to re-open one of the cuts.
Lydecker yawned. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"The X series transgenics that got out." She ripped into the paper around a square of sterile gauze.
"What do you know about the X series?" Hazel eyes locked onto hers, and Dawn realized that she'd slipped. She hid her embarrassment for a few minutes by finishing up with the bandages and tape.
"I've been doing some research," she finally confessed. "but the organization is very difficult to track, so I don't know much."
"You know, you're not supposed to know anything at all." His tone could have been a threat, or just a casual observation.
"Just little bits here and there." She suspected that Lydecker would be able to fill in a lot of missing pieces, if he wanted to.
"Dawn, I want to discuss your findings with you," he said. "But I need about twelve hours of sleep first. Wake me up when you get home from work. OK?"
"OK. But promise me you won't go looking for any more trouble."
"Not until you get back. You have my word." He smiled at her, then leaned over to brush his lips against her forehead.
Before she could figure out how to answer, he was under the blanket, facing the wall, and asleep.
"Is that a thanks?" mused Dawn, as she collected the empty wrappers from the carpet around her. "An apology? Or the shadow of a kiss?"
****
Dawn remembered her Grandmother's cat. Fuzz was a big, mean, cream-colored tomcat. Every night the cat would go out, looking for other cats to beat up on. Every morning he'd stroll in, licking his wounds and looking for a warm spot to sleep for the day.
As she left her apartment, she looked back to see the blond head against the pillow. She decided that Dek and Fuzz would have gotten along fabulously.
She felt in the laundry basket for the dirty jeans she'd tossed there last night. The basket was empty, except for a lonely sock. She decided that her flannel night gown would have to do.
She padded past the open bathroom door, and the tiny kitchenette, and put her hand on the frame of her old room mate's bed, which took up about a third of what was supposed to be the living room.
"Dek!" she whispered, patting the blanket carefully. "Wake up!" She grabbed the blanket, pulled it back, and realized that the shape on the bed was a pile of her dirty laundry. The sheets were totally cold. Wherever Dek was, he'd been gone for a while.
She looked out the front window. That was HER truck in front of the door, not over to the side under the trees where she parked it yesterday. The truck's door swung open. She glanced at the kitchen counter, and realized that her keys were missing. "I'm going to kill him!" she snarled.
Dawn grabbed a sweatshirt from the hook next to her door, pulled it on over her nightgown. It took only a moment to open the dead bolt, turn the knob, and then she was racing down the stairs. Past the owner's office, another couple of seconds to un-stick the latch on the front door.
The light from inside showed her Lydecker, leaning against the fender of her truck. She stood out on the little porch and let the door swing closed behind her.
"What the Hell do you think you are doing?" she hissed.
"Returning your truck." He held out her keys, but didn't move away from the truck.
"That's not what I meant. You are supposed to be asleep." Dawn wondered if she were old enough to start sounding like her mother.
"That's an excellent idea." He took a few unsteady steps from the truck to the porch, leaning on the cane. Dawn put out her hand, and he let her help him up the two steps and in through the front door.
In the light inside she could see dark red wetness sticking his pants against his leg. "You're bleeding again."
"I ran into a bit of trouble" Dek looked up the stairs with grim determination, and his fingers pressed into her shoulder with bruising force.
"Where were you?" asked Dawn, as Dek took the last step and let go of her shoulder.
"Visiting an old friend." Dawn motioned him towards the bed, and turned left into her bedroom to get scissors and things. She stopped at the kitchen sink to scrub her hands.
Dek examined his bloody slacks, and tossed them onto the rest of her laundry, which was now piled up under the window. "The bitch ripped his heart out, Dawn." He sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry." Dawn folded herself cross-legged on the carpet, and settled his foot in her lap. As she carefully scissored through the soggy gauze, she wished she could tell if she was hurting him.
"Do you ever want to help someone, but realize that there is nothing at all you can do?" She looked up, and noticed that he was staring at her collection of smiley-face fridge magnets, but not seeing them.
Dawn nodded, but didn't say anything. "Every time I look at you," she thought.
"I saw two more newspaper articles about transgeneics, yesterday." she offered, trying to change the subject. The last of the bandage fell away, and Dawn could tell that whatever Dek had been up to, he'd only managed to re-open one of the cuts.
Lydecker yawned. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"The X series transgenics that got out." She ripped into the paper around a square of sterile gauze.
"What do you know about the X series?" Hazel eyes locked onto hers, and Dawn realized that she'd slipped. She hid her embarrassment for a few minutes by finishing up with the bandages and tape.
"I've been doing some research," she finally confessed. "but the organization is very difficult to track, so I don't know much."
"You know, you're not supposed to know anything at all." His tone could have been a threat, or just a casual observation.
"Just little bits here and there." She suspected that Lydecker would be able to fill in a lot of missing pieces, if he wanted to.
"Dawn, I want to discuss your findings with you," he said. "But I need about twelve hours of sleep first. Wake me up when you get home from work. OK?"
"OK. But promise me you won't go looking for any more trouble."
"Not until you get back. You have my word." He smiled at her, then leaned over to brush his lips against her forehead.
Before she could figure out how to answer, he was under the blanket, facing the wall, and asleep.
"Is that a thanks?" mused Dawn, as she collected the empty wrappers from the carpet around her. "An apology? Or the shadow of a kiss?"
****
Dawn remembered her Grandmother's cat. Fuzz was a big, mean, cream-colored tomcat. Every night the cat would go out, looking for other cats to beat up on. Every morning he'd stroll in, licking his wounds and looking for a warm spot to sleep for the day.
As she left her apartment, she looked back to see the blond head against the pillow. She decided that Dek and Fuzz would have gotten along fabulously.
