My side was killing me, no pun intended, but more because it itched then hurt. I did press on it to try to stop any residual bleeding, but I swear, I just wanted to scratch the sucker! On the bright side, if I was lucky enough to pass out, I wouldn't have to feel it or deal with our unwanted guests. Who were breathing down my neck by the way, as we sat crouched behind a stinky dumpster, waiting for the signal from Ade.
I had somehow convinced them to unglue themselves from my back with all their pseudo-mothering, but I was really getting tired of the pity that practically radiated off of the Fed in particular. Mr. Sidekick Consultant, Neal something I think, was burning a hole in my back, and Mr. Fed, Peter or whatever, was burning one in my side. Their breathing was tense as they waited impatiently and uncertainly.
I could just feel a headache coming on. They were going to ask questions, soon, judging by the way they were about to explode from keeping their mouths closed.
This was bad, really bad. They were never supposed to know about the wings or powers (although they got a front row seat at the Institute when I blinded them, they didn't know for sure that I had any direct ability to do so, let alone that I actually did it).
Finally, less than ten minutes after he began his mission, Ade gave us the signal.
He casually leaned against the wall of the building he had infiltrated and waited for us to join him. He cast a single worried glance at my bloody side, but knowingly looked away and waved us towards the back door he had just emerged from. "It's the fifth story corner room, E521. All clear the whole way, and the stairs are on your right as you go in."
Letting him lead the way, our guests and I began the seemingly endless journey up the stairs to the room Ade had procured through…secret means. The Fed looked a little uneasy; well, more uneasy than his sidekick did. Guess he didn't like staying in a room he knew wasn't acquired legally.
Which his sidekick certainly must not mind, considering he's a criminal! That was awesome to discover as we flew out of his little boundary! The stupid thing on his ankle started beeping at us mid-flight, and my solution was to rip it off to shut it up. I knew something was up with this guy when I found his anklet while retrieving his future gag. I figured this guy was either being tracked because of something like being a criminal, or he had a fetish. Or, (I actually just now thought of this), he was an officer on probation for breaking a cardinal rule or something, and to make sure he didn't mess up again (even after being demoted to a consultant), they put that on him.
Guess I was wrong either way.
I would have gladly ditched these guys earlier, and if I had been thinking instead of panicking when the beeping started, I would have dropped them like hot potatoes outside of Sidekick's boundary. Their allies would find them faster than the Institute would that wat. Then Ade and I could have just kept flying. But no, I just had to make it harder on myself.
Especially because my current plan presented a greater danger to my overall health: enduring the inevitable questioning. It was going to happen as soon as we entered the room, I just knew it would. Man this whole situation sucks!
Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. Unless it's the last glass of milk on the planet and you will die without it…
Am I bi-polar?
"What?" Ade craned his neck to look back at me.
Did I really just say that out loud? Oh crap, I'm losing it. "Nothing Ade, just keep going."
We finally reached the fifth floor, tired, hungry, and just plain uncomfortable. Ade pointed to the room, about four doors away from us. I marched up to the door, still unlocked from Ade's tampering, and we all entered quietly.
I quickly entered and locked the bathroom door, peeling off my coat and top, to inspect the wound in the mirror. I selected the vile of rubbing alcohol from its place and used the washcloth by the bathtub as my cleaning implement. Using water first, I wiped up the bloody mess to reveal three long cuts and a fourth shorter one, all better looking than I had hoped. I gave them all another good wipe with the wet cloth, and then grabbing a dry one, carefully poured some alcohol on it, grimacing at how low it was getting.
I took a deep breath to prepare myself, and thoroughly cleaned each claw mark, mentally calculating how long it would take to heal. I then covered it with the remainder of my gauze, grimacing at that as well, (another convenience store would soon be raided). I taped the gauze down as best I could and finished the procedure off by wrapping the whole area in the scarf I had used for my leg.
I then dumped my coat and top in the tub, turned on the water, and pulled out a big T-shirt I had in the bottom of my bag. I hesitated in putting it on, staring at the wings folded tightly against my back. They looked so small, pressed flat like that. I then looked at my overall reflection. I never really considered myself beautiful, and if ever I could have been before, I certainly never could be beautiful now.
I shook off my moment of vanity and pulled down my old/new jeans as well, checking on my earlier wound while I had my medical supplies out. It looked good, all scabbed over and faintly pink. We healed rather quickly, but we usually didn't lose our scars; however long I lived, I would always have a reminder of these years on the run, fighting to live another day.
I pulled up my pants, shut off the water in the tub, made sure it was lukewarm, and then exited the bathroom. I couldn't hide in there anymore, time to get the questions over with. Ade was seated on the bed closest to the bathroom, facing the other two who were seated at the table in the crappy old faux leather chairs. It was quiet in the room, which made me nervous, but I could see that everyone was waiting for me to arrive. Oh great, no pressure then.
"So," I opened the floor, "My plan is simple: We stay here the night, and if the erasers don't find us before then, you all go back to wherever you belong in the morning."
They held it in just a moment longer, and then they both broke down. "How do you have wings? Was it you that did the blinding thing? How can you do that? What's an eraser? Have you always had the wings? Was that how you got on and off my veranda?"
The last one was from Neal, who despite everything that had happened in the last two hours was still fixated on our first unofficial meeting. Wow, should I call that persistent or pathetic?
I rubbed my temples and grimaced. How much should I tell them if I tell them the truth at all? Should I touch at all on our past, or focus entirely on the reason we were in New York? Should I tell them more about the Institute, or just pretend we're out to get the Institute for the reasons they believed?
"Does it really matter how we got the wings, or how long we've had them? We have them now, that's all that counts. You weren't even supposed to know about them. Yes, the blinding thing was me. No, I'm not telling you how. The thing that attacked us is an eraser. The erasers are sent and controlled by the people after us. Let me make this clear to you: The people after us would have killed you for just talking to us. In fact, they have killed a lot of people for less than that! And yes, once and for all, I got onto that veranda from the air. I just wanted to hide somewhere for the night. If it wasn't for that stupid flowerpot, you never would have known I was there. Happy?"
Peter looked between me and Neal a couple times, the wheels in his head turning quickly. I felt a jolt of panic when I realized my mistake. Neal had told the guy on the phone that he had knocked over the flowerpot. And I'm willing to bet my freedom that Peter was the other guy on the phone.
"So how did you knock the pot over? I saw with my own eyes how easily you can maneuver, a flowerpot should have been easy for you to avoid, if not catch before it fell," the Fed had that glimmer in his eyes again, that obsessed kid with a 1000 piece puzzle and they just fit a chain together.
I swallowed and looked away before I could stop myself, but recovered quickly and answered him, "Neal was coming closer my way and I was backing away when I bumped it. I didn't have enough time to turn around, locate and identify what it was, and then snag it before it hit the ground."
If the Fed had blinked, (which apparently, he has a no blink mode for interrogation), or just had the decency to look away, he never would have seen my slip-up. But he did, and I was busted. He just stared at me with those eyes. I know now why he's a Fed; he can mess with you through a stare.
"Okay, okay already. The plate of food made me lose my concentration. I was leaning over to look at it better when I brushed against the pot, and I didn't notice it until it crashed," I fought away an embarrassed blush, focusing on keeping a firm grip on my reactions: no more slip-ups!
They both put on another pity face, (like I needed another one of those), and this time, Neal spoke up in his soft and gentle persuasion voice, "What happened with your parents? Isn't there anywhere safe for you to go?"
I had to suppress the sudden anger I felt at his bold questions. I already told them what they needed to know about our present situation. Couldn't they just leave it at that? I was trying to save their lives, but I couldn't get even a little trust!
"Like I already said, they are dead, and there is nowhere that's safe for us to go. Don't bother trying to 'help' us. Trust me, you've done enough. We came here for information, and we just want to leave before we get killed. It wouldn't surprise me to see your faces in the news as a couple of victims of a 'random accident', and all because you saw us. Maybe because you're some fancy FBI agent you think you're safe from just about everybody. But trust me, this goes way beyond the Institute. You are way outmanned, out armed, and outmatched. There is no way for you to win. I-"
I stopped myself, clamping down on my emotions before I let my true feelings slip. I started out talking to Neal but wound up almost yelling at Peter. And I gave him way more than I intended. He now knew that there was a higher connection that the Institute had than Itex, and worse, that I knew a lot about it.
I hate to admit it, but he was getting to me. The way he studied and looked through me, I knew I wasn't going to make it through this without spilling tidbits like I just did. It was time to quit this, before I said the wrong thing.
"We should get a little sleep before you two leave. I'll take the first shift. Ade and I will take this first bed, and you two can decide where and how you'd like to sleep. We sleep lightly, so no funny business. Come too close, and we'll wake up."
Peter stood up for emphasis, a serious look in his eyes, "Now hold on, we were in the middle of a conversation. Could we finish before we think about sleeping?"
I shook my head sternly, "You know more than I intended to tell you, leave it at that."
He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, my patience expired. With fists clenched and teeth grit, I ended the discussion, "You don't know anything; you sit up there in the clouds and chase the big clean crimes in fancy suites, intentionally oblivious to the everyday suffering of the scummy people you don't want to acknowledge exist. If they don't want wear suits, you don't look. Heck, even if they do wear suits, you don't care if they do something to someone who doesn't wear a suite."
He wanted to defend himself, 'set me straight', but I sent him a look that would have made an eraser melt. I practically threw Ade under the sheets with a 'go to sleep' glare, and stormed into the bathroom. I glared my soaked clothes into submission and scrubbed the blood out until my hands were raw. I then squeezed and re-squeezed them until my arms felt numb. I hung them on the curtain rod and drained the water. I turned for the door but stopped myself; I wasn't ready to face them yet.
I grabbed a towel and transferred my clothes to the towel rack, past ready for a long overdue shower. The Fed and his sidekick could wait. The erasers and the Institute could wait. Finding the rest of my family could wait. Even Ade could wait. I, not the freak runaway, but the blonde girl who used have a home and a family, was taking a luxurious shower…and crying her eyes out for the first time in a long time. That couldn't wait any longer.
