Chapter 9

Soft light pours in through the milky blinds of my room. I shift awake, and stare lovingly at the soft rays. I always love the feeling of being roused by the idyllic sun. The starchy lavender sheets rustled as I pull them back over my head. I smile gently as I blink away the sleep in my eyes. Today was Erick's birthday. He would turn nine today. He grew up so quickly, overnight it seems. This place truly is Elysium, I think to myself, grateful for everything I have. A soft thud emanates from downstairs, followed by a yelp. How strange, I think as I draw the sheets back, letting my feet drop to the floor. A pound on my door. They come crashing in, three or four of them. They cuff me, bag my head, render me terrified.

I awoke with a start. Pain seared through my body like liquid agony. I uttered a sharp hiss, waking the snoozing cobra. I felt his arm tighten around my shoulder. There was something about the gesture that felt protective. I heard him grunt softly as he shifted awake.

Cautiously, I peered up at him. His face was screwed up in pain. Out of pure surprise, I asked, "Are you okay?"

I felt him stiffen as if he were electrified. I heard a sharp intake of breath before he answered gruffly.

"Fine." His voice dripped with indifference, but I could hear pain stifled behind it. It aggrieved me mentally to admit that I was now completely mesmerized by Kruger. His flip-floppy attitude confused me, and his dangerous then playful disposition unnerved me. Any way I looked at it, there was no definitive answer I could grasp. Would Kruger kill me? Would he release me? Would he give me to Delacourt? Would he fight for me? All these questions rattled harshly like bells in my brain. I was surprised Kruger didn't bark a demand to keep them quiet.

"You don't sound fine…" My voice was thick with pain and spite, but through it, I heard a familiar sarcasm. I was feeling more like myself for the first time in days.

"I'm fine," Kruger barked, pain still evident in his voice. He sighed. "As soon as I get out of hea, I'm gonna down a gallon and a half of any booze I can find…"

I found it in myself to chuckle. "I could use a drink…"

Kruger thought for a moment while I rested. "I think it's about time we leave this god-forsaken place."

We?

"Can you stand?"

It was an honest question, concern thick in its delivery. I didn't know if I could answer it justifiably. "I don't know…" I honestly didn't. If it hurt as much to tense my muscles, I could not bear to imagine the pain of simply standing up.

"Look," Kruger began, "if you ever want to get out of here, away from Elysium; away from me, you're going to have to get up."

His strength was undeniably astonishing. Without warning, he scooped me up in his arms and stood. I let out a cry of anguish as my body crumpled without my control. Pain raced through my body, clouding my judgment further. The only thing I could do was scream in pain, my arms wrapped around Kruger's neck.

The pain lasted an eternity. Black spots obstructed my vision, threatening me with another blackout. I fought my hardest to stay awake against the hellish pain. Through the fog of agony, I heard a grunt of effort come from Kruger; the same kind of grunt that comes when stifling a cry.

I was vaguely aware of my surroundings. A tall, three-story marble house, more like a fortress, stood dominating the skyline at the end of an expanse of well-manicured grass. The struggle coursing through Kruger was like a buzz I could feel. He was injured, albeit not as badly as I was, it seemed, and the pain was killing him. The fact that I was still in his arms honestly surprised me. The way he held me was not in a guarding, dominant way; it was protective.

I continued to wail in agony, the pain too much to bear. The house approached, looming in front of us. I could scarcely hear anything amidst my own screams, but I heard voices raised in confusion and a door sliding open.

"Who's there? What's happened?"

"Just open the fokkin' door!"

The black spots got larger, threatening to plunge me into another state of unconsciousness. My throat was hoarse. I was now gasping against the pain, unable to scream or even speak. Kruger's voice rang above everything else, loud and clear.

"You! Get a medical kit, anything you have!"

"But, sir, who are—"

"Now!"

Sounds of frightened people shuffling around echoed through my skull. We must be inside the marble fortress. Quick to take control of the situation, Kruger was already barking commands into his communicator.

Kruger raised the communicator that was wrapped around his forearm. He growled a command at it and it lit up obediently. He was signaling Crowe; commanding his remaining comrade to pick him up from an Elysian suburb three kilometers away from the CCB.

In the back of my head, I was still awake. How did we get from the top of the CCB to three kilometers into a suburb…? I could only speculate as to how it all happened. Letting my thoughts be replaced by the haze of pain, I felt myself being lowered into a cushy place, one with an embrace of down and fluff. I heard several voices reverberate around me; some accusatory that were met with ferocity, others that were just plain frightened, and some that were simply shocked. One voice in particular stood out above Kruger's angry roars, a deep, soft voice, asking me 'are you alright?' My eyelids fluttered, trying to open enough for me to see the angelic voice.

A young man, who looked to be about in his late twenties, was gazing down at me with big, artificially paled brown eyes. Though his face was screwed up in concern, he looked devilishly handsome. For a moment, I forgot where and who I was. I gazed up at him like an orphaned pup, unaware of anything but the present moment.

Blinking slowly, I croaked, "Hello…"

The man's eyebrows furrowed in amusement, a soft laugh lingering of his full lips, "Hello, there…" Bright white teeth glittered like stars against his dark face. His smile was dazzling, full of warmth and kindness. He looked at me a little longer, his hand gingerly brushing a hair aside on my forehead, then resting upon it to check temperature. I could only stare, grateful for the human emotion clouding the man's face.

More shouts came from beyond me. Kruger's voice rang loudly, echoing through a sort of corridor. "Get me a medical kit, please!" Even with the word 'please', his inquiry was more of a demand.

Another voice, high pitched and estranged, pitched shrilly above Kruger's. "Who are you and what are you doing in Mr. Leopold's house?! This is unacceptable! Show me your ID now!"

The man above me ducked away. I craned my head to look after him. "Cassandra! Clam it!" He shouted sternly, silencing her. He assessed the situation before continuing calmly. "First of all, I'd like to ask what happened." He addressed Kruger. "Please, explain yourself. What is it you want?"

Agent Kruger was staring daggers at the man, clearly not happy with the stalling that seemed to be going on. Jaw tight, he answered slowly, "I want your medical attention. Get it. For her."

He motioned towards me, hands in tight fists at his side. I noticed he was slumped forward, favoring all his weight on one leg, barely standing on the other. His eyes were black; murderous. He would kill if he didn't get what he wanted, if not out of necessity, out of pure anger.

"Alright," the man, presumably the owner of the house, held up his hands for peace. "We'll get you medical attention—"

"Not for me, for her," Kruger roared angrily, fire burning behind his coal-black orbs.

"Alright, alright, for her first," the man continued calmly. "Then, we'll attend to you, sir. Judging from your uniform, I would say… mercenary?"

Kruger only glared.

"Still active duty?"

No response.

The man ventured closer. "Recently deactivated…?"

Still no response. Only pure hatred.

"I'll take that as a yes…" the man smiled, mischief surging across his lips. The way he was totally undaunted by Kruger was incredible. The fury in Kruger's glare was enough to kill a small animal. The homeowner simply stared back at him with a blank, amused expression.

If Kruger wasn't broken, the man would surely be dead by now.

He could read Kruger like a book. Something told me that this man was a force to be reckoned with, regardless of his kindly, composed demeanor. "My name is Marcele Leopold. And you are…?"

Kruger's lip couldn't help but jolt upwards in a sneer of derision. Marcele looked him up and down. "Well I suppose it isn't that important then…" He turned to address the woman named Cassandra. "I'll go fetch the med-kit. I believe I have some stabilizers." Marcele left the room while Cassandra with a knowing look. "Watch them…" he muttered as he passed by.

Kruger strode across the room, limping quickly, as quickly as his unidentified injuries would allow. I watched him with concerned eyes as he hobbled towards me. When he reached my side, I grasped his hand. He stiffened at my touch, but otherwise did not look away. Cassandra watched us almost disgustedly, head high, staring at us down her nose.

"Kruger…" I uttered, "Where are we… What's happening?"

"It's alright, princess, you'll be fine." He gazed down at me with pale green eyes, a look of contrived assurance on his face.

I thought it appropriate to ask a question I had been dying to know all this time. "Do you know that your eyes change color…?"

Through a tight smile, he laughed drily. "What?"

"Yeah," I murmured, "from black to green. Why's that…?"

"Must be the light…"

He smiled a little more genuinely, softer than before, the tension seeming to drip off his face. In a moment, his mirth was gone, precisely when Marcele re-entered the room, a small metal box in his hands.

"Here we are," he said as he approached the other side of the couch. If Kruger were an animal at this moment, he would be a hound, trained to attack on cue. His metaphorical hackles were raised in the presence of the other male. If I were not in the middle of it, a fight for territory would no doubt explode. I could not believe the physical crackling of energy and intensity between the two men.

"Looks like you had a bad break, whatever happened…" Marcele looked up at Kruger with a demeaning, accusatory glance. Kruger bristled defensively. "I have this stabilizer here," –he held up a small, spider-like metal object– "that will attach to the small of your back and support whatever area that is broken, acting as a temporary crutch."

"You seem to know a lot about this stuff," I mentioned, finding my voice, finally. "Are you a doctor?"

Marcele laughed. "Yes, luckily for you, I am. Spent ten years, after university, working for the Elysian headquarters as a staff doctor, then got elevated to working at the CCB, which is why I recognize your friend here…" A sidelong glance was all I needed to see to know that these two breeds despised each other already.

"Well I'm awfully glad I landed on your front lawn…" I smiled, absentmindedly, caught in between pain and fascination.

"So am I," Marcele laughed, gazing at me with his mocha colored eyes. We stared at each other a little longer than was acceptable for Kruger, for he rudely interrupted, "Okay! That's enough flirty-flirty." He glared at Marcele. "More worky-worky."

A venomous glance at Kruger let me know to let go of his hand and push him aside. He didn't move, of course, just stood glaring as he had been for the last six minutes.

Marcele prepared to attach the stabilizer to my hip. He pulled aside my shirt to get at the blue and black and bruised area. I could almost see Kruger's eyes bulge out of his head in contempt. Marcele effectively ignored him as he continued to question me. "So where exactly did you come from then, angel?" Out popped the eyes. "Didn't drop out of the sky, did you?"

I winced in pain as the stabilizer attached itself to my bone it wasn't a terrible pain, just an intense pinching one. "To be honest, I don't exactly know what happened…" I looked up at Kruger for answer, but he was too busy trying not to strangle Marcele. "The last thing I remember was escaping from the prison at the CCB. I blacked out. And then I woke up on your front lawn."

At first I wondered if I had said too much. Marcele seemed to be an understanding person, aware of the human condition, but he could just as easily alert the Elysian authorities to come and pluck me, broken or not, from the wreckage. I trusted him, however, considering that he was still willing to help me. And Kruger, for that matter, regardless of his obvious revulsion.

"So… Fugitive then?"

The question caught me off-guard. I supposed I was now a fugitive. The title sounded completely alien to me. "Yeah… Fugitive…" I mumbled, the pain from my pelvis suddenly subsiding greatly. I realized that Marcele had placed a squishy red cold-pack on my bruised area. I sighed in relief. "Thanks…"

"No problem…" Marcele continued to work in silence, prepping the stabilizer-spider thing.

Suddenly, I heard the whirl of the Raven's engines outside. And almost immediately following, the sound of a loudspeaker bellowing orders. "This is the Elysian government. Please remain in the craft unless ordered otherwise. You are under arrest. Repeat, you are under arrest by order of the Civil Corporation Bureau."

In a flurry of action, Crowe and another man in similar gear burst through the sliding glass door, shattering it effectively with the butt of their guns.

"Boss!" Crowe yelled amidst the madness, desperation thick in his voice. "We gotta scram! CIA is on our tail! Come on!"

The other man piped up. "If you want to live to fight another day, we gotta move."

Kruger only looked blankly at his men, then back to me, then back to them. He deliberated with a blank face. The blankness lasted for a moment or two, before anger surged forward. He whipped around to grasp Marcele by the collar. "Is she healed?"

"Well, sort of—"

"Is. She. Healed."

Marcele couldn't respond. Fear clouded his chocolate brown face, his eyebrows lifting in shock. Unsatisfied, Kruger shook him, shrieking now, "IS SHE HEALED?!"

"Yes! Mostly! I just need to—"

Before Marcele could finish, Kruger threw him aside. There was a pounding at the front door and deep, mechanical voice demanding that someone open it. Kruger turned to his men. "New guy, come and get her. Crowe, get the ship ready now!"

The new man did as he was told and approached the couch, but he didn't grab me. He grabbed Kruger.

"What?" Kruger's confusion turned threatening, pain furrowing his brow.

"We have to go now, boss!" Crowe stepped forward, taking his boss' other arm. Together with the other man, they began to drag their superior towards the Raven, strategically landed out on the broad, marble patio outside, out of firing range.

Kruger was at first unsure of what was happening. He stared at me as he stumbled backwards, brow furrowed and eyes glossy. AS he realized he was being separated from me, only then did he begin to struggle. He fought like the devil to get out of the grasp of his comrades, who each had tubular, metal apparatuses attached to their backs, hips and heads. Kruger bellowed with rage, shaking the very walls of the great marble mansion.

"PROTEA!"

And with one final struggle, Crowe had to cuff his leader with the butt of his gun. Kruger fell limp and was dragged off into the Raven. That was the last I saw of him before I blacked out yet again.