Chapter Six
Being dead was interesting.
Not interesting
in a "Look, there's grandma!" kind of sense. There was very
little of the whole 'city in the clouds' type of heaven we're
used to seeing portrayed in movies, books, or even cream cheese
advertisements on TV. All I saw was total blackness, with slight
flashes of red. I was too hot, ridiculously uncomfortable, and in
pain. When all of that added up, I figured that, instead of heaven, I
was…well…in the other place.
I heard voices, too. None of
which I recognised. Part of me was pleased. Certainly, I was dead,
and in hell, but if Sammy had been caught and killed too, there was
no doubt in my mind that he'd end up down here with me. I mean, the
guy had a fixation on massive stone breasts. So, he, at least, was
safe.
The voices drifted in and out of the blackness, which never
changed.
"…Slowly. In a few more…"
"Almost
ready…implants…walk"
"…Ocular regeneration…very…to
do"
"Jason?"
It was the first time one of the voices
had mentioned my name, at least to my remembrance.
"Jason? My
name is Doctor Wilks."
They had a doctor down here, too? Great.
I bet he got brought down to hell for doing things he wasn't
supposed to do with his female patients.
"Jason, I need you to
relax."
Relax? Here I was, in the afterlife, stuck as one of
Satan's playthings, and he wanted me to relax? Do me a
solid.
"You're at the Chiron Medical Facility."
The who with the what, now?
"You were brought in by a Superhero
who found your body, and we've been taking care of you."
"Not…"
I was amazed by how little my voice sounded like my own.
"Dead?"
"Well, not anymore." Dr Wilks sounded slightly
amused. "Your heart stopped a few times when we were trying to
revive you, but you're very much alive. If not well."
Now,
that made absolutely no sense. If we were in a hospital, why were all
the lights off? Had they sewn my eyelids shut?
"Can't see."
I croaked.
"Yes, I know. How much of what happened do you
remember?"
"Attacked….church. Inferm tried to save…" I
gasped for air. Since when was talking so hard to do? "Corruptor.
Shot legs. Fire…"
"Yes, there was a fire. A massive one.
Your body was badly damaged by it. The forensics team guessed there
were flamethrowers involved, as there were traces of napalm on
you."
"Yes." Why wouldn't this man turn on the goddamned
lights?
"I'm very sorry to say, Jason, that your
legs are completely ruined. The lower legs were totally destroyed.
Your arms are also very burned, and…well, you no longer have any
sight."
"Blind?" I managed to gasp out
"Of a sort. To
put it in terms you'd understand, your eyeballs…well, they're
made of a high water concentration. When they're exposed to an
intense heat…I'm sorry to say your eyes simply exploded."
Oh
I thought to myself. That explains why I can't see.
"We're
keeping you under some heavy painkillers, for obvious reasons."
"How
long?" I muttered.
"You've been here a little under two
months."
---
Two months. Had nobody missed me? What
about Sammy?
"Sammy…"
"Mr Edwards is still in Paragon
City, never fear. The police contacted him as soon as we knew your
identity, which wasn't, frankly, easy to find out. He visits you
once a week."
Once a week? My closest friend and he only came
once a week? Little git.
"Now, Mr Tucker, because we couldn't
find any trace of family living in Paragon City, and whatever
identity and money cards you had were destroyed in the fire, we sent
off a request for help from a group of people who have experience in
providing monetary aid. Generally, it's for war orphans, but we
feel they may be able to help you."
War orphans? He didn't
mean…
"The Tucker Foundation?"
"Yes, I see you've
heard of them."
Bloody ironic, really.
"They said
they'd review the situation, and be in touch in a few weeks."
"Call
them up. Ask for Mike Anson."
"Who?"
"Mike…Anson.
He's the chairman."
"Okay…" Wilks sounded confused. "How
do you know all this?"
I managed to utter two more words before
consciousness gave way, and I was once more thrust into oblivion.
Just two words, but I felt they summed up everything that had
happened.
"Don't ask."
---
Time passes very
slowly when you're in a hospital bed an unable to see. I could have
been there for days, or weeks. Possibly even a few hours or even
minutes, before I realised I was conscious once again. Wilks was
standing nearby. Although I couldn't see him, I knew he was there.
The man wouldn't shut up.
"…Quite impossible."
"I beg
your pardon?" Hey! That was better. At least I could talk properly
again.
"As I was saying, with Mr Anson's disappearance,
contacting him is quite impossible."
What?
"What?"
"He
vanished, a little over six weeks ago. Nobody seems to know where he
is."
So, Mike had vanished a little after I was attacked?
Strange.
"Phone."
"You'd like a telephone?"
"…No.
I want to say 'phone' a lot."
Dr Wilks put something in my
hands. "Here you go."
"…Dial for me. I can't see the
buttons."
"Oh. Oh, yes, of course."
Just how did this man
earn his medical degree?
I rattled off a long number, and after a
few seconds, I had the phone back in my hands, and with difficulty,
pressed against my ear. Moments later, I heard a young and chipper
female voice.
"Tucker Foundation, Michelle speaking, how can I
help you?"
Oh, bugger. Michelle.
"Michelle, it's
Jason."
"Mr Tucker!" Michelle's exuberance rang out over
several thousand miles, and nearly deafened me. "Where are you?
We've all been trying to get in touch…"
"Yes, I heard
about Mike just now. What's going on?"
"Well, nobody knows
where he is. He just…didn't come into work one day, and nobody's
heard from him."
"Right."
"Does this mean you're
coming back, Mr Tuck?"
"Eventually. Listen, there was a
request sent by the Chiron Medical Facility in Paragon City,
America."
"Hang on, Mr Tuck, I'm looking at it now…poor
bastard. How can anyone go through this?"
Hmm…
"What does
it say?"
"Lost eyesight, lost legs, severely disfigured by
fire…"
Disfigured? Say what, now?
"Yes, well, we're
going to help him."
"It says his name is listed as
Ja…oh."
"Michelle?"
"Oh, Mr Tucker, I'm
so…"
"Michelle."
"It can't possibly have
been…"
"MICHELLE!"
"…Yes,
sir?"
"Whatever the doctors need, cash, medical teams,
equipment, I want them to have it."
"Of course, Mr Tuck….Mr
Tucker. Right away, sir."
"Thank you. Make all the
arrangements, will you?"
"Yes, sir."
The line went dead,
and I handed the phone out to mid-air. Dr Wilks must have caught it,
though, because I didn't hear it fall.
"You're…you're
that Mr Tucker?"
I sighed. "Yes."
"I never
knew."
"I'd like to keep it that way." I leaned back
against my bed. Funny, I never realised I had sat up.
"Now, a
while ago, you were talking about Ocular implants?"
"Yes….yes.
They're expensive, but you can afford it. However, someone has
asked to speak to you, before we go into any details on surgery."
I
really wasn't in the mood for any visitors, but I figured Sammy
might have finally shown up. "Who is it?"
"It's…well,
it's the Mayor. And her aide."
What would the Mayor want with
me? Probably some 'I'm so sorry' speech, followed by 'our
best men are working on it'.
Then I remembered something I had been told before the attack. An elderly man's voice came back to me, from a debriefing I had received in a church…
"Even the Mayor follows The Truth, Mr Tucker…"
"Send her in."
---
High heels. That was my first impression of
The Mayor and her aide. Both of them wore high heels. They entered my
room, and I heard a light female voice say, "Thank you Doctor
Wilks."
"Oh..yes. Well. I'll be right outside if you need
me."
Padded feet moving away, and I heard a door close.
"Mr
Tucker," that same voice noted. "My name is Samantha Hearten. I
am the mayor of Paragon City."
"Hi."
Okay, so I wasn't
in a talkative mood. I'm allowed to, though, right? I mean, I'd
lost my legs, my sight, and my looks.
"This is my aide…"
"Yes,
yes." I cut her off. "Forgive my rudeness, however, I believe you
wanted to speak to me?"
"Yes." The Mayor allowed. "It
concerns a mutual friend of ours. Jenson Infern."
There was
something in her voice. Infern wasn't just an acquaintance of hers.
She was definitely a member of the Brotherhood.
"Yes, I know Mr
Infern. I was there when he died."
Silence.
"I know you
were. I wanted to ask if the rumours were true."
What
rumours?
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you mean."
"There
were no survivors at the Alpha Site to what happened, apart from you.
Security footage showed men in black armour, but then they stopped.
We don't know…"
"It was Corruptor. At least, that's who
I think it was. That's what Infern called him."
"Corruptor?"
The mayor gasped.
"You've met?"
"No…no, never in
person. No member of the Brotherhood has ever met Corruptor and lived
to tell about it. I don't know why he didn't kill you."
"He
probably thought he had. He killed Infern, and then shot me. Blew off
my legs."
More silence. It was quite refreshing, in it's way,
however, the silence was brought open by telling something
tragic.
"Mr Tucker…Jenson was my friend. He helped get me this
job, so that I could help the Brotherhood. I'm a loyal follower of
the Truth, as is my aide, here."
"Well, that's nice, but
honestly, I don't see what that has to do with me."
I
heard the mayor sit down in a creaky chair near my head. "Well…before
he died, Jenson phoned me. Said he thought he had found our latest
Field Agent."
"Me?"
"Yes. Jenson believed he had
discovered someone of infallible integrity, personal strength, and
the need to see justice done."
I know when I'm trying to
be played, and the Mayor was trying to play me like Mozart in front
of a piano.
"I know of your monetary situation, Mr Tucker.
Jenson e-mailed me your file, and your personal history is
impressive."
"I can't see."
The mayor went on, as if
she hadn't heard.
"You can be the next Agent. You can go up
against the man who killed Jenson Infern, who tried to kill you."
"I
can't see."
"You can right wrongs, rub shoulders with
Statesman, and have the full backing of the local, State, and
national Government."
"Are you deaf? I'm flattered, and
everything, but I…cannot…see!"
"Oh, we can fix that.
Ocular implants for your eyes, new legs, new arms…you'd still be
Jason Tucker, but you'd also be the torch for The Truth. Carrying
out great acts…"
She went on like that for some time. My
answer was going to be the same as I had given. No offence to this
Brotherhood, but I could get the same implants done. Get my face
fixed. Be able to see, to move, to carry on my life just as it had
been before, and never even think about the cost. But then the mayor
did something I didn't expect.
"And my aide agrees with me.
Don't you, Emily?"
---
Pete, it had turned out, had
died in the war. Being distraught, and broke in money and in spirit,
unable to return home to England, Emily had set out to make a life
for herself here. She had worked for multiple places, before finding
herself at the Mayoral Campaign. One, it turned out, was backed by
The Brotherhood, of which Emily found herself inducted into.
Eventually, her story got through to my Foundation, and she was
awarded a monthly 'allowance', which found its' way into the
Brotherhood.
I was, she reasoned, already supplying the group. I
may as well join.
As I have said before, I know when I'm
being played. With Emily, doubly so. She was always good at
manipulating me, and she told me what I wanted to hear, with the
exception of promising herself to me. In fact, the idea of a
reconciliation never passed her lips, was never even hinted at. Just
as well, really. I wouldn't want to date her with a disfigured face
and no legs.
"…Just think about it, okay?"
I heard her
leave the room, and then, it was just the Mayor and me.
"Well,
Mr Tucker, you've heard from me, and you've heard from and old
girlfriend. What do you say?"
I thought about my answer before I gave it. I realised I had been quiet for a long, long time, and maybe the Mayor thought I had passed out again.
"Well,"
I began. "Since I got to Paragon City, I've been threatened,
intimidated, shot, blinded, horribly scarred, and manipulated, all
because of your so called Truth."
"Mr Tucker…Jason…" The
Mayor began.
"No, look." I interrupted. "You've had your
say. Now it's my turn.
"You promise me that with your help, I
can be restored to full mobility. Better than full mobility, in fact.
My eyesight will be returned to me, the scars on my face removed as
if they were never there, as long as I become a part of your little
organisation. Well, thanks, but no thanks. I can do all that on my
own, with my own money, and I won't have to owe you a damn
thing."
"I see." The Mayor said softly, and I heard her get
up to leave.
"However," I continued. "Just because I don't
owe you anything, it doesn't mean I don't owe Corruptor
anything."
"Oh?" The Mayor's voice held a note of hope.
"I
owe him pain. I owe him suffering, and blindness, and for him to lose
his legs as I lost mine. I owe him the fear of being left to die,
surrounded by fire."
I took a breath. "It seems to me that the
best chance I have of doing that, is by becoming one of your Field
Agents. I'm in." I allowed, "But that doesn't mean I owe you
anything. Deal?"
I could hear the Mayor's smile, although, for the time being, I couldn't see it.
"It's a deal.
But, what are you going to call yourself?"
I pondered that. "Mr
Infern…Jenson…when he made the offer to me, he asked me to become
a 'guardian' of The Truth."
"Yes?"
"So, that's
what I'll call myself. From now on…I'm The Fire Guardian."
