(Five)
The night before, Kimble hadn't been prepared for the level of pain that assaulted him when the blast of plasma energy hit him. He was swallowed up in a boiling ball of lava and the heat of it forced all of his internal systems to shut down. It was mainly Fallen's cleverness that had saved him. When she constructed the hologram components, the hardware she had selected was of the highest quality. It was hot, but didn't melt down. He was still alive somehow. In his own defense, Kimble was forced to retreat deeper into his own systems than he'd ever been before. He saw it as if it were a dream.
He was falling down through a pitch black sky, screaming as his body was on fire. He left a trail of black smoke and ash behind him as if he was being transformed into something else. Layers of him were being burned away. He landed on the floor of his own internal black room painfully with a loud thud and lay whimpering and broken. This was no soft black silky bed waiting for his arrival. He hit the deck hard and was now smouldering, smoke wafting off of his shoulders like steam. Well, it could be worse, he couldn't help but think, at least he was no longer on fire.
Kimble groaned and looked around him, blinking through the haze of his charred and smoking skin. It was horribly hot and close in here, like a sauna. He was in the circle of light, but he wasn't alone.
"Welcome to the party, kid."
Kimble turned his head and saw Zander crouched beside him some distance away. He was down on one knee and chained to the floor, growling in protest of his confinement.
"Where am I ?" Kimble asked, wincing from the pain as he sat up. Flakes of ash drifted from him, revealing pink but normal skin under his burns. In this unreal world, he was healing.
"Yer in our system deep. This is where all the really good stuff happens," Zander replied, a bitter edge to his voice.
Kimble rubbed his eyes and tried to get a better sense of where he was. He cocked his head in surprise when he saw two more sets of chains on the outside edge of the circle where Zander was imprisoned. The first set was unoccupied and a message was etched into the floor - "Seth was here," next to a plaque that read "The One Who Has Broken Free."
The next set held a small girl. Zander's ghost, now all too real, looked back at him with the familiar blue eyes of Sheyman's favorite skin. She appeared now as Kimble had drawn her, but he had no memory of doing so. He had crafted that image in a fog, a kind of trance where his hands had moved to create and then filed the finished picture away as if it had never been. She had guided his hands that day, taking him over and making her presence known. Zander had been pissed off about it and buried the picture away, not wanting to trouble Kimble with it.
"Who're you?" Kimble asked, not sure he wanted to know.
"Don' looks at me, I'm ugly. Not worth shit. All I feels is pain," she whispered softly, her despair all too real. "Gots ta make it stop."
"See what I've had ta put up with? She don' ever shut up," Zander complained.
"What's goin' on?" Kimble asked bewildered. He knew this was no dream.
"We's dyin'," the girl said, an odd smile brightening her face a little.
"No we ain't. I been there b'fore. This ain't it."
"Yes it is," she insisted defiantly. "We're gonna go see father and all will be like it useta be when he loved us. We ain't gonna be 'lone no more!"
"Just humor her," Zander growled. "She's so stupid, she won't know no better."
"I ain't stupid!" she hollered, rising to her feet. As she moved, her stink rose with her. She broke off a piece of her filth encrusted sign and flung it at Zander, hitting him in the face. One of his mirror pieces chipped and fell away with a clink. Blood poured from the wound, showing he was so much more than just a mere image.
"Fuckin' cunt!" he snarled and drew his sword. They were too far apart for him to reach her, but he swung it at her just the same.
Kimble reeled, covering his face as he tried to take all of this insanity in. This was a nightmare. "Stop this! What's goin' on!"
"This's the fun house, kid. Yer seein' yerself like ya never done b'fore," Zander answered, lowering his sword and calming down a little.
"This ain't me! I ain't all of you! I'm Kimble!"
"Really? Look at yerself good, boy."
Kimble looked down at his body. He was no longer burned and smoking. The ash had fallen away and his skin was white and clean as if it had never been damaged, but now he was sporting a fashionable set of chains just like the others. Somehow he had been pushed back to the outer edge of the circle as well. It seemed more like a square now, each one of the set of chains was an equal distance apart. Kimble looked down to where the chains were bolted to the floor and saw a plaque there labeled, the Lover. They all had one. The Lover, the Punisher, the Quitter, and the One Who Had Broken Free.
"No..!" Kimble sobbed miserably. This whole thing was too surreal for him to take. If he had thought he had gone off the deep end before, he had been sadly mistaken. He was sitting here now in the circle of his mind, shattered.
"Don' feel so bad, kid," Zander said with little comfort. "We've been here longer than you. We've been here watchin' you run around with all the control, fuckin' up an' embarrassin' the crap out of us...well, me anaways. That bitch over there don' much care. All she does is complain and talk about how great it's all gonna be when we're dead. Least with you down here now, I'll have some decent company."
"This ain't real!" Kimble continued to sob, covering his face.
"Shoulda spiked us when ya had the chance," the girl whispered as she sat back down again on the floor. "Woulda saved us all some pain."
"Shut up, 'Shay. I'm so sick of yer mouth," Zander snapped. "Cain't ya see the boy's jus' a little upset? Leave him alone!"
Kimble looked at her, his cheeks wet. " 'Shay? That's yer name?"
"Lakotashay."
Kimble laughed bitterly and shook his head. How apt. Lakotashay, the Siskan equivalent of dog shit. Whatever you could visualize in your mind as the worst kind of filth or scum, that's what Lakotashay was. Of course this girl would be so familiar. She was the sum of all of his self loathing and despair as Zander was the sum of all of his rage and desire to lash out at those who had hurt him so badly. What a motley band of souls, these. Straight jacket and padded cell here we come.
Kimble shivered suddenly as the heat all around him dropped sharply. "What now?" he wailed and then screamed as he was sucked into a blinding white whirlwind.
In the circle of light, Zander shook his head with gruff amusement as he watched Kimble dissolve and fade away. He knew it meant Kimble was waking up on the outside. "Good luck, kid. Yer gonna needs it," he said softly, losing some of his gruffness. It was mostly just a cover anyway. He was more protector and punisher than bully. The attitude went with the job.
Lakotashay sobbed and lay her head down to the floor. "It's not fair! We wuz suppozta die! No! No!"
Zander picked up the piece of the sign she'd flung at him and tossed it back to her. "For the billionth time, shut yer yap! Time ta watch again."
(break)
Only moments before, Kyle Franks had flown with his steaming burden, hardly able to hold onto it because of the heat of it. What a horrible mission this had been. He had gone with his team to the bar looking for a man with a Mark, a large tattoo. Kyle had a good crew with him - Gail, a girl more lizard than man and a good fighter. Michael, a gun toting master of weapons who had the abilty to phase and was naturally invulnerable. Leon, a bio-plasma producer and decent back-up for Michael. Kyle himself was a powerful telekinetic and leader of the gang.
Kyle had decided to save some time by letting Sabertooth and his gang do all the work and just do bit of thieving after. At first, the plan had worked out fine. They had arrived just in time to catch Creed walking out with Kimble tossed over his shoulder. What hadn't gone right was the big fight that followed. Kimble had managed to run off only to get slammed by one of Leon's plasma bursts. The pilot hadn't stood a chance. He took the blast full on and melted. What a mess. The only sign that this hadn't gone totally to shit was the fact that Kimble had in fact melted instead of exploding into chunks as was often the case with stray plasma balls. He obviously wasn't human or even flesh. Kyle then figured that Kimble must be some kind of alien. All the better for him. If he melted, he could be gathered. If he could be gathered, he could perhaps be cooled. If he could be cooled, maybe he could be saved and Kyle's ass wouldn't be in a sling.
They had left the bar a only few minutes ago and Kyle carried both Kimble's remains and his crew aloft as they had fled. He had no time, he had to cool Kimble off as soon as possible if he was going to salvage this nightmare. Kyle was in command of this team and was in charge of all the decisions. Whatever they did to fix this had to come from his own head. His problem was a lack of options. Good thing he was very experienced and well trained. He had been in Cameron Bishop's employ for many years and was his most trusted Seeker.
He flew over a residential area and smiled when he saw a large in-ground swimming pool. It was a good sized pool and a cool night, perfect for what he needed. The pool had a vinyl cover on it, but he slashed through it with a mental command. He dropped sharply and recklessly plunged into the frigid water, not caring about the shock to his own system. There was a loud splash and hiss of steam as the container of Kimble's orange glowing fluids hit the water. It wasn't even close to being silent.
"Cover me!" Kyle gasped from the cold water as the back door of the house opened and the owner came running out with a gun. Kyle had used his power to lower the others into the yard and they now drew their own weapons in response to his order. The owner balked, just as surprised by the small band of mutants as he was from the noise they had made. Just the sight of Gail and her jagged crocodile face was enough to make him wet himself.
"Get out of here!" he shouted, his trembling voice betraying him. He was an old man dressed only in a worn out housecoat. All of his fight had evaporated.
"We'll be out of your way in a minute," Michael said sternly, making sure the man saw his pistols. He favored Desert Eagles and they were quite large and menacing looking. "We just need your pool for a moment."
The owner swallowed and debated his options. He was outgunned and had no will to pursue this. What a stupid stinking world this had become where a man couldn't even protect his own yard from all of these mutant freaks running around. He would be sure to write a letter to his Congressman about this!
Kyle looked down at the container he had made and felt some relief when he saw the orange mass inside quickly turn grey as it cooled. There were bands of orange plasma still swirled around in the gel, but nowhere near as much as before. The temperature of the water in the pool had risen sharply and he knew that although this was better, it wasn't going to be good enough to finish the job. He smiled with renewed hope as the fluids swirled and moved about inside the ball he had made. Kimble was trying to reform.
"We're outta here, troops!" he shouted and lifted them again.
"It's been real!" Michael said arrogantly, giving the owner of the house a mock salute and a laugh as they drifted up into the sky.
The owner could only watch in dumb amazement as they levitated up and out of his yard as though he had just gone sleepwalking, as though they had never been there at all.
Kyle flew them off into the night and back towards New York City, trying to make the best time he could. Kyle was a solitary man and owned several decrepit buildings all over the city, calling them aeries as a private joke to himself. The names were apt. He would let the lower levels fall into decay while keeping the top floors in good shape. The buildings appeared abandoned and were left alone. The top floors could only be reached by flight. All the stairs had been destroyed. This way he had his privacy and could live quietly. The top floor of this building was small but would do.
They landed in a neat formation on the roof and descended inside quickly. Kyle made for the bathroom. It was a decent size with a large tub, the only real asset to this aerie. He rushed inside and carefully set the large container of liquid into the bathtub before starting the cold water running. The ice cold water began to sizzle and steam as the pool water had done when it hit Kyle's containment shield. The contents had started to warm again on the way here, the overheated inner core fueling the rise. Kyle slowly expanded the ball, allowing more surface area to be cooled. As he did, he was relieved to see the gel swirl around once more, still trying to reform. He released Kimble's gel and watched in fascination as it molded itself back into human shape.
A grey, winged man took form from the gel, his mouth open in a frozen scream. He began to move in a slow motion as he cooled even further. He twitched violently twice and finally the scream was released. It was a horrible twisted, wrenching sound filled with pain and Kyle couldn't help but wince at the sound of it.
"What's going on?" Gail asked sharply, poking her head in through the door. Kimble's scream had chilled her down to the bone and she was worried for Kyle's safety.
"He's coming back, I think. Just give me a minute!" Kyle replied impatiently.
Kimble's white pilot skin flickered and reactivated, making Kyle jump back in surprise. Kimble was back and in agony. He thrashed convulsively, sloshing water everywhere. Kyle got over his fear quickly and held him down, not ready to let him up just yet. He was cooler, but still warm to the touch. Kimble didn't know Kyle was there, but convulsed and thrashed as if fighting some unseen enemy. He stopped moving suddenly and vomited explosively, splattering hot orange and grey liquid all over Kyle.
Kyle jerked away reflexively. He expected to be burned, but it wasn't as hot as that. He paused in wonder as he saw what Kimble had sicked up shimmer and disappear. It had no smell, and his clothes were clean when it was gone. Oh, yeah. This guy wasn't even close to being human.
Kimble groaned and blacked out. Kyle grabbed his head before it slipped under the water. He was cooling off fast now. Kyle let him sit in the chilled water for a long time, freshening it time and time again when it got too warm.
He stripped down out of his own soaked clothing while he waited for Kimble to cool and dried off. He changed quickly, never taking his eyes off of his new charge. This had been so scary. They had come close to losing Kimble and even now, the pilot wasn't out of the woods yet.
Kimble had stopped fighting and lay motionless except for the heaving of his chest. It was as if he couldn't get enough air. His eyes were half open and sightless, glassy and unfocused. Before long, he was snoring raggedly and Kyle was fearful he would expire at any moment, but he kept taking breath after mechanical breath. As the time passed and he cooled further, his breathing leveled out and he seemed to fall asleep for real, filling Kyle with relief. He had pulled this off, thank God. When it looked as though Kimble was as cool as he was going to get, Kyle moved him to the bed. He was surprised to find Kimble was much lighter than he looked, he didn't need to use his power to move him.
Kyle lay the naked pilot down and looked down at Kimble's sleeping face. Kimble's skin was a sparkling white and the Mark blazed brightly on his chest as if the large tattoo had only recently been made. Kimble's shredded clothing had long since burned away when he had been melted and Kyle wondered at how magnificent he appeared. It was like looking at a mythical creature. At least he seemed all right now, but who could tell what kind of permanent damage had been done.
Gail stood beside Kyle and bumped him playfully with her shoulder. The two of them were close friends and had worked together for a long time. Her gruesome appearance didn't bother him at all. Kyle regarded all mutants as potential allies and saw their gifts as assets, not as things to be discriminated by. He loved the power and animal grace of her. She was a savage fighter and didn't put up with guff from anybody. "He's so beautiful. Will he be all right?" Gail breathed softly, admiring the pilot.
"I don't know. I hope so."
"He looks strange. I don't know...different."
"Of course he's different," Leon quipped sarcastically from behind her. "He's an alien."
"He's not an alien," Kyle said impatiently. "He's the ShaRain."
"Oh, my mistake," Leon said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Kyle Franks worked for Cameron Bishop, the leader of the Freedom Kings. The Kings was a group of mutants that fought for mutant rights as the X-men did, but were far less warm and fuzzy about it. They robbed banks to finance themselves and blew up the offices of anti-mutant human organizations, trying to show that mutants would not go down quietly. Cameron Franks had a good number of mutants on his crew. One of them was a Seer named Joshua. He had whispered to Cameron, his Master, that he'd had visions of a winged man with a large Mark, a tattoo of an emerald winged woman lying along the blade of a sword. This man would be powerful and strong, the perfect weapon for their cause. This man was the ShaRain, a word he could not explain, only that it was wrapped around Kimble in his vision. Cameron had responded eagerly by sending out Kyle to collect him. He was aware that Jael was also looking. A race that Cameron had now won, it appeared.
Kimble's eyes slid partway open. "Fallen..." he whispered and reached out for her.
"What did he say?" Gail asked, leaning in closer to the pilot to hear.
"I've fallen and I can't get up!" Leon giggled insanely.
"Quiet!" Kyle snapped. He sat down on the bed and took Kimble's outstretched hand. "You okay, son?"
"I wants ta go home, Fallen...I feels sick."
Kyle cocked his head in amusement at Kimble's strange accent and mangled English. It was like a child had spoken. "You're too sick to go anywhere. Try to sleep."
Kimble curled up slowly into a ball, groaning. "My belly hurts..."
"Get the bucket from the bathroom," Kyle said to Gail. "He's probably going to be sick again."
Kimble didn't wait for her. He heaved and coughed up another volley of grey gel. It was streaked with large bands of orange plasma. Kimble whined and started to cry. "It hurts so bad..."
Leon snorted. "I thought he was supposed to be a big warrior or something. Look at him. He's cryin' like a little baby."
"Warriors come in all shapes and sizes," Kyle said angrily. He had no love for Leon and it showed.
"Gross..." Gail said when she returned. Kimble had spit up all over the bed. It gradually shimmered as it cooled and then vaporized. "Well, at least we won't have to clean it up."
"Convenient, huh?" Michael added with his usual comic laugh. He had helped himself to Kyle's fridge and was slurping loudly on a can of soda.
"Fallen!" Kimble sobbed. He was in agony and wanted only her. "Help me! Fallen!"
"Is that a name?" Gail asked.
"Sounds like it." Kyle rubbed Kimble's hand. "Just take it easy, kid."
"I wants ta go home... I'm sick... Fix me, Fallen... Makes the pain go away..."
"You're not going anywhere just yet. What's your name, son?"
Kimble curled up even more tightly. "I wants ta go home..."
"Tell me who you are and we'll help you."
"I hafta go home!" Kimble insisted.
"Where's your home?"
"You know...the X-men's place ... Just like we planned... Fallen... I promise I won't be bad no more, just fix me, please..." he babbled deliriously.
"Oh, we are so fucked!" Gail said, covering her eyes. "Nobody said anything about the X-men being involved in this!"
"They aren't anything we can't handle," Kyle said confidently. He should know, he used to live with them once so very long ago. He didn't stay long, he just couldn't buy into peace between humans and mutants without some kind of show of force by the mutants. Humans never seemed to take mutants seriously, except when they were beating them to death of course. He had lost many friends in this war. Of course he wasn't familiar with the current X-men roster, he had left many years ago, but Charles' foolish ideals sometimes left him open for weakness. The more powerful and militant mutants usually got snapped up by Cameron or Jael. He didn't think the X-men would be anything Cameron couldn't handle.
Gail didn't quite believe, but she respected him enough to keep quiet about it. The others stirred restlessly, raising his ire. Kyle sensed the others hovering and felt they were in the way. He pulled away from Kimble and moved his crew aside. "I'm going to drop you guys off outside. I want you to go and report to Cameron. Tell him I'll bring the ShaRain over to the club when he's better."
"I'm staying here with him," Leon said. "I've got orders."
"So do I. Report back to Cam. Now."
"No. He's not leaving my sight."
The two men locked eyes. Kyle was older and wiser, but Leon was much more powerful and part of Cameron's Inner Circle. Kyle had no choice. "All right. But keep quiet."
Kyle grabbed Michael and Gail and dropped them off outside. They ran off, grateful to be free and disappeared into the darkness of the night. He returned to the aerie quickly, not wanting to leave Kimble alone with Leon for too long. Leon was sneaky and crazy, he couldn't be trusted.
Kimble was moaning and thrashing on the bed when he arrived back upstairs. Leon stood over him, just a little too closely, a strange twisted grin on his face. "Leave him alone," Kyle barked.
"I wasn't going to do anything," Leon said, backing off with his hands up. He sat down at the table. He looked around him impatiently. "Don't you have any TVs or anything?"
"No," Kyle answered, sitting next to Kimble on the bed. "Try reading a book." Kyle was an intelligent man. He had many shelves with books on all subjects.
Leon snorted and turned away. He was small and weasley, not a very nice person. He was largely illiterate with no desire to expand his horizons. His power enabled him to protect himself and dominate others, he was a bully and more than satisfied with it. He had been brutally sexually and mentally abused by an uncle when he was a child and it showed in the nasty way he carried himself and argued all of the time. He was filthy and not pleasant to be around. Kyle tried his best to see past all that to the boy underneath, Leon was only a teenager, but his childish and cruel manner made it difficult. For reasons yet to be explained, Cameron had insisted Leon go out on them with this trip and apparently wanted Leon close to this pilot.
Kyle ignored his rude teammate and touched Kimble's fevered face. The creature was still quite warm. If he overheated again, Kyle would be forced to bring him back to the bathroom and cool him off some more.
Kimble felt him there. He reached out and snatched Kyle's hand, grasping for any kind of comfort. "Help me..."
"What can I do?"
"Thirsty...So thirsty..."
Kyle got up carefully and got a glass of water. He returned and Kimble grabbed at it greedily. He drank the water down in big gulps, then retched and coughed it all up again. Kyle was at his wit's end. He got a towel and cleaned the mess, not sure of what he was doing. He was afraid that Kimble could still die and all of this would be for nothing. Kimble was clawing at his throat, gasping and moaning.
Kyle went to the kitchen, thinking of what to do. He opened up the freezer and took out a large block of ice. He found a pick and stabbed at it viciously, venting some of his pent up frustration over this whole mess. He gathered the chips and dumped them into a bowl before sitting back down next to Kimble. He slid some chips into Kimble's mouth and the pilot took them gratefully, chomping on them and drooling with relief. "Wh-what happened ta me?" he asked in a weak scratchy voice. He looked a little more aware.
"You got hit by a plasma burst. You're lucky to be alive."
"Plasma..." Kimble shuddered. He vaguely remembered Fallen saying something about plasma energy being harmful to the hologram. He reached for more chips and Kyle gave him some, careful not to give him too many.
"It's all right. I think you're going to be fine."
Kimble squinted up at him. "Who're you?"
"My name is Kyle Franks. My friends and I found you outside the bar. You'd been attacked by a gang of mutants. We drove them off, but you got hit by a stray plasma burst."
Some of what Kyle said sounded right to Kimble's blurred memory, but not all of it. He had a vague recollection of hurting this man, but wasn't sure why. The marks he had made grabbing for Kyle's eyes had faded, he didn't see them and Kyle didn't remind him about it.
"Where am I?"
"This is a safe place. This is one of my homes. No one will harm you here. Now, tell me your name."
"Name's Kimble."
"Kimble?"
"Yeah, Kimble. Just like that. Kimble." He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. "It's so hot in here..."
Kyle took Kimble's hand again. "Try to sleep."
"Stay with me."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Kimble spent most of the night in a kind of stupor. He would doze off only to wake and vomit again. The streaks of orange grew less and less with each purging and Kyle could see he was getting better. Even though he was a stranger, Kimble wanted Kyle close to him and finally fell asleep, his head in Kyle's lap.
Kyle looked down into Kimble's sleeping face and brushed his hair back gently. Kyle found himself oddly attracted to his sparkling beauty and other worldliness. He was an alabaster winged Adonis, his physique perfect and chiseled. His skin seemed to glow unnaturally and his whiteness suggested purity. Kyle ran his hands gently over his leathery wings, unable to stop his curiosity. He felt Kimble shudder with pleasure from his touch. Kimble mumbled something in a strange musical language and half opened his eyes.
Kyle looked quickly at Leon, but he had fallen asleep, his head on the table. Kyle knew Leon was homophobic as a result of the abuse he'd received and didn't want him to misunderstand his careful explorations of their guest. He was merely curious, nothing more.
Kimble slurred more pleasant gibberish and rolled onto his back to look up into Kyle's face. He was clearly stoned, the plasma had made him high even as it made him sick. His pupils were fully dilated, making him look even more strange. He whispered something, laughed, and reached up to touch his fevered fingers to Kyle's lips.
Kyle took his hand, pulling it away gently. "Sleep."
"Cain't. Too hot. I felt ya touchin' me."
"I've never seen anyone like you. Don't be afraid."
"I ain't scared. You kin keep touchin' me, I don' mind. I likes it."
He rose up slightly to kiss Kyle, but the older man pushed him down firmly in a gentle refusal. He was a little confused by Kimble's apparent desire. He knew Kimble had been at the bar with a woman. He had actually seen Kimble there a few times without knowing who he was. Each time, Kimble had gone with a prostitute. Maybe Kimble was just really high. Still, he made his position on the matter clear. "I'm not gay and I don't want you that way. I'm sorry if I confused you."
"I ain't no man. I ain't no girl. I'm Kimble."
"What does that mean? Kimble?"
"S' my name."
"Well...Kimble. I was curious about you, but that's all," Kyle repeated, firm about this.
Kimble withered a little. "S'all right. Don' be mad at me."
"I'm not angry. I was just wondering what you are."
Kimble laughed, relieved, and said, "I'm Kimble. I'm a pilot," as if that explained everything.
"A pilot, huh? I've never seen a pilot quite like you."
"That's cuz there ain't no pilots like me. I'm the only one."
"The only one? Don't you have parents?"
A dark sadness crossed Kimble's face. "Gots no parents. I ain't even real."
"You seem real enough to me."
"Well, I ain't." Kimble rolled onto his side, turning away. The plasma was buzzing in his head like he had drunk too much whiskey. It enhanced his senses but exaggerated his emotions. He had been aroused when Kyle was touching him, now he felt a sadness so profound he thought it would swallow him up whole.
Kyle touched his shoulder, concerned at Kimble's rapid change in mood. "I meant no offense."
"I wants ta go home."
"You're sick."
Kimble tried to rise, wanting only to get out of here. He had to find Fallen. He swayed drunkenly as the room began to spin wildly. His stomach heaved and he gagged. Kyle grabbed at him, not letting him fall. Kimble leaned back against him, letting the other man catch him. Kimble's head flopped back and he found himself looking up into Kyle's eyes again. Kimble started to shake in fear. He had never been this drunk, this high before and it frightened him. "Helps me..."
"I'm trying, but you're not co-operating."
"What's happenin' ta me?" He had no memory of the night before or of Kyle's explaining all this already.
"You got hit with a plasma burst. You absorbed it and it's made you sick. You need to rest."
Kimble closed his eyes, feeling horrible. "I'm scared."
"It's all right. I've got you now." Kyle lay Kimble back down on the bed and covered him up with the blankets. "Sleep."
Kimble grasped his wrist. "Stay with me."
Kyle looked down at him, confused. Joshua said this was the ShaRain. The ShaRain was supposed to be some kind of powerful fighting spirit. He had gone on to say that not only would the ShaRain be an asset and a powerful ally, he was also destined to find some kind of special object of power called the LaRoo, another word Joshua was at a loss to explain. It all sounded kind of hokey to Kyle, but Cameron was all over it. Kyle decided he would just treat Kimble like any other recruit and bring him into the fold like the rest. He turned on his best charming smile. "Of course I'll stay with you."
Kimble released him and curled up next to him. Kyle petted his head gently until he heard Kimble's breathing change and he knew he was asleep, hopefully for a while this time. He stood up and saw Leon was out cold as well. This was as good a time as any to sneak off and call Cameron. He was sorry now he had never installed a phone up here, but he hated telephones and wanted the isolation. There was a payphone just down the street. He stepped out onto the fire escape and dropped down to the street.