*Author's note: Apologies for the long wait and for the formatting of chapter 7! Text blocks are annoying. Story is still in progress and there will be many more chapters, hopefully! Thank you for your patience and understanding. Regards – CS*
Chapter 8 (part 1)
Falling from a height of three hundred feet would be terrifying to anybody. Though here, wind whistling past my ringing ears, it felt liberating.
I tumbled downward towards the Elysian terra. Sunlight glared off the metallic building behind me, continually blinding me on the way down to my death. I'll be with you soon, I thought of my family as a tear streamed out of my eye and skywards. This will feel so good…
Closing my eyes, I let myself blur over. No sense in being conscious when I hit the ground. I twirled gracefully onto my back, as if held by heavenly hands. I settled into a relaxed, reclined position as imitated gravity brought me to the artificial ground.
The feeling of freedom lasted for all of four seconds.
Talon-like hands raked across my arms, grasping them in a vice grip. My trajectory was thrown off as I was flung against a broad chest. Like an infant chimp, my arms curled around his body as the wind raced along with my heart.
The last thing I remembered was Kruger throwing me out the hatch. I remember falling forever. In fact, I didn't remember anything. Everything before the point of now was fuzzy, blurry, like water in your eye. I tried to blink the haze in my mind away, but to no avail.
Gradually, consciousness returned to me. The first thing I noticed was the hum of Elysium; a dull noise that was not entirely irritating, but comforting, due to the fact that it meant fresh air was constantly being produced. The next thing I noticed was the rustle of palm leaves in the wind. The calm reminded me of home, though I didn't know which one. What was home if I had no one?
First things first; where am I, and how did I get here?
The haziness drifted off me lazily like steam, easing me into awareness. I became aware of a repetitive sound. A deep, relaxed rhythm that was not my own, though it may as well have been due to its synchrony.
Deep breathing. Sleep.
In and out… In and out…
My senses told me I was leaning against something living. My gut told me it was a predator.
Fresh electricity shot through my system. I was prepared to feel the need to flee, to run, as I had the last three years of my life. I waited for the jolt to spread through my muscles, alighting them with the energetic fire used to run from danger.
But it never came.
Even after dreadfully long moments, it never came.
I leaned forward ever so slowly, my neck arcing gracefully up to gaze at the only thing I was perpetually afraid and fascinated by.
He lay quietly, truly asleep. A deep relaxed slumber, leaning on the ground against a palm trunk. No muscles were tensed, no fight engorging the vessels of his temples.
Peace was finally with the cobra.
I stared, eyelids still heavy, mind still hazy. I was suddenly aware of how dreadfully tired I was.
Kill him. Walk away. Vanish.
This would be my only chance to kill him correctly, to make him dead forever. One expert slice with my knife right across the jugular. He would bleed out before he would wake up. My knife was secure in my boot, the handle beckoning my hand and the blade glinting insistently in the sunlight.
This chance to kill was irresistible. Every nerve in my body burned with the need to satisfy this perpetually inconsistent feeling. I needed this, whatever it was.
The knife floated up to his bare, unguarded throat. It hovered above the flesh just below the thick, brown beard. Muscles gently contracted as he breathed, totally unaware.
I stared longer still, my shoulder still resting against his chest. I'm not sure if it was gravity, or if it was some other force, but I was being tied down by invisible strings. My arm was still raised above my head, the knife gently pinned against Kruger's throat. The cold of the metal must have disturbed his sleep, for he stirred ever so slightly beneath the blade.
My breath caught in my throat, hitching at the tension in the air crackling with electricity. Jaw clenched, I waited for him to wake, knife poised.
Finally, I watched as his eyelids fluttered open, lazily blinking away the sleep. He had long, thick eyelashes that shadowed his eyes, pale green in the morning sunlight. They looked at me intently, sleep still lining them. His lips barely moved as he spoke, "Glad to see you still hea, princess…"
I pondered. Come to think of it, I couldn't feel my body. Experimentally, I tried to lift my leg, or even bend it. I could not. I twisted my hips to the side, but found I could not manage the slightest twitch.
"What did you do… to me?" My voice cracked as a hoarse accusation escaped my lips. I couldn't move my legs, and I knew something had happened to me. Kruger happened to me.
"Nothing much," he answered simply.
"Liar."
"You landed on your hip. Probably broke y' pelvis. Don't try to move, eh? It'll hurt."
Ignoring his caution, I stared intently at his stillness. It was eerie to think that he hadn't tried anything while I was no doubt unconscious. The last few hours had begun to blur together. Little pieces began to come back to me.
Agent Kruger captured me and brought me to Elysium. Gabriella Delacourt was there, and she ordered the androids to kill my family…
My family.
Just the thought of them dead sent me spiraling into a batch of fresh tears. I sobbed hard into Kruger's shoulder; I didn't know what else to do. My body shook, sending jolts of pain from my abdomen through my body. I cried from physical pain and psychological pain. It was all too much to bear right now.
I had no home.
I had no family.
I was crying like an infant at the hands of my most certain doom.
Salty tears soon formed a dark spot on Kruger's shirt, blending in with the camouflage pattern. That instinctive part of me that had been telling me to flee still whispered a warning, though it was staring in wonder at the source of danger. Kruger wasn't attacking, or holding me hostage, or even glaring at me. In fact, he wasn't doing anything. I could sense no vicious intent or danger in the air. He was still.
I couldn't decide which Kruger was scarier.
But then again, who knew how many there were.
A hand rested on my arm. A soft touch, but nonetheless, I felt a buzz of adrenaline. Another soon followed, and at tugged me gently, embracing me. I felt Kruger rest his chin on my head.
"Rest. They can't get you now…" His soft voice surprised me once again. I imagined his eyes; pale green.
"Why are you doing this…?" I barely found the strength to whisper. Curiosity burned deep inside me.
"I told you… I couldn't let them hurt you, Protea…"
There it was again. My name. "Why," I sighed, trying to control my breathing from sobbing so hard. I found myself nudging further into his almost humanly warmth.
Sleep began to fog the edges of my mind, creating a translucent vignette of comforting blackness. Perhaps I was just too tired, or maybe I had given up on life, on defending myself or my honour. I had no one to get back to. I had nothing.
"I don't—" Kruger choked. Was that a stammer? Silence ensued. I closed my eyes. "I don't fully know… actually…" There was a moment of reflection, of thought so deep I could feel it in my own chest.
I didn't need to see his deeply furrowed brow and clenched jaw to know he was having a moment of personal turmoil. I felt him tentatively dip his chin in a mild gesture of defeat.
The allure of sleep beckoned seductively. I didn't want to drop my guard, however much there was, just yet; I still couldn't distinguish if this was reality or not.
Maybe the only place where I felt safe lying next to Agent Kruger was a dream. Who knows?
"What will they do if they find you?" My own voice sounded tiny, hollow, a ghost of its former self. Kind of like me.
A soft chuckle came from above my head. "Probably just a de-activation orda, coz they know I fok'n hate it…" he trailed off into a growl at the thought of his commanding officers. It was easy to tell that Kruger didn't appreciate the thought of being someone's bitch to activate and deactivate at whim. I imagined he loved to be front and center, killing things of all sorts.
The thought made me shudder that I was now falling asleep against a serial murderer. Even a physical tremor sent jolts of pain from my now broken pelvis. I still couldn't remember completely what happened. I winced at the pain.
"Whoa, whoa, relax…" A hand meant for crushing throats stroked my hair. "We'll get you fixed up soon…"
This was exhilarating. I don't know what it was exactly, but everything that had happened, was happening, in the dwindling Elysian day was incredible in a morbidly exciting way. I think the thing that was most incredible was Kruger's paradigm shift from predator to what seemed to be protector. Here I lay, with a broken pelvis, totally vulnerable… And he barely lifts a finger. Perhaps it has taken all his physical strength to restrain himself from doing whatever he originally planned on doing to me earlier that day.
I asked the million dollar question just before sleep overtook me. "Why am I still alive?" I waited for an answer for all of about three seconds. I dove into a much needed sleep, black waves gently lapping, lulling me into a deep slumber. I dreamt of cobras with bright green eyes basking lazily in the sun.