Chapter 3: Ride On / Ninja

Though anxiety reigned at the back of his mind, Erik thought that no-one could possibly say "That's screwed up" in as heartwarming manner as Kim had done. And she had led Erik to open up on a subject he would never have considered before.

But now there was a potential further cause for concern. Ian had been offline for over an hour, without relaying any further information. Erik had sent two messages, and nothing had come back.

It was well past 2 AM now, and he began to consider tactics.

Kim still had her license suspended, but Erik had not drunk more beer for several hours, so he should theoretically be OK for driving. Getting to Ian and Jo would require driving through most of the night, though.

But what else there was to do?

"Now Ian is not answering. I think we should get going," Erik said roughly.

Next to him, Kim rose wearily into sitting. "What? To the hospital? We won't be there before morning."

"That's right."

"Well, it's you driving. Your choice. No radio, and I should be able to sleep most of the way."

Erik could not shake the idea that this was somehow similar to Ian's and Jo's legendary drive through the night. But with the radio off, there should be no risk of sudden braking. Not that Erik would let his self-control down in that manner.

…

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ian didn't know if it was a good sign or not, to think of whether the heart monitor he was hooked to was programmed in C++, the language his fake identity Trevor Ashen had excelled in. Possibly it was just something to keep the restless mind occupied.

Well, at least he was not dead yet. But he was not sure how much time had passed. Apparently he had been unconscious for some time, and now he was in a hospital bed of his own, the devices watching over him.

He too had needed to vomit, and that had been scary, as he had been certain he would go into cardiac arrest just from the strain. The previous meetings with the throne had been child's play in comparison.

To have a nurse walk him through the process, that could have been beyond mortifying. But it had felt like happening to someone else already. In other words, dissociation.

A blood test had been taken too, but it was still being processed.

Somehow Ian knew what he needed to do. To take off, and begin the stealth infiltration part. He knew it was unwise to the maximum, but if he was going to end up dead anyway, he'd want to find Jo before that. To hold her one more time. The actual sensible objective would be to find out what he had been poisoned with, if that was even the case, but it seemed too much to take on with his limited knowledge. Unless there were traitors roaming the hospital, and he would manage to extract information by force.

He was well aware of three things: 1) His plans and thoughts were not mentally sound. 2) Even trying to get up would end up as a likely failure. 3) If he got that far, ripping off the monitor wires would alert the nurses, and carting the device with him would draw even more attention.

But he didn't care.

…

The insides of Erik's truck, with the dashboard as the only light, and the monotonous road that zoomed by in the headlights, was like a dimension of its own, a twilight zone where normal rules would not apply.

Kim had not dozed off yet. So she found herself talking almost without conscious control, continuing on the subject they had started at the cabin. She rationalized that it was in response to what Erik had revealed, giving yet something more in return.

"Hate. That's the first thing I remember. I think the first thing I hated … was God."

Erik turned to look at her. So far, this was like perfectly normal metalhead territory, right? Hating God. Or killing him.

"Being brought up religiously … that was probably bound to happen. But I didn't fear, like I was supposed to. I just hated. I thought, send me to Hell, I don't care. It just proves what a shithead you are."

Erik nodded and grunted something indecipherable. Possibly meaning he understood.

"After that, I guess it expanded to people. Because then too, I wouldn't play by their rules. To catch on to how you were supposed to act, all the fucking hidden cues. And they gave me endless shit, so I just thought, fuck you too. That was through most of school. But then I found my calling, doing security, because most of the time you meet very few people, or if you do, you probably have a reason, and a right, to kick their ass."

Kim thought she had given some kind of abridged version before, but this was the full version. On her scale, it was quite a lengthy monologue.

Erik's reply was much shorter.

"When you kicked my ass, that was one of the best things to happen to me."

Kim remembered the situation, how broken down Erik had been at the time. It almost got her emotional. And what had followed had been quite a rocky ride. The rise and fall of the short-lived Necrotic Dust … a trip down to a government facility straight out of Hell, and another like the weirdest acid trip one could ever imagine … and one wrecked Smart Fortwo.

That they were here now, it was nothing short of a miracle, Kim understood now. Especially on this mundane and somehow – human? - trip it felt suddenly very enormous.

There was also something else she realized.

"But after that, I was like a total ass at times. Like trying to drive you away," Kim replied.

"I think that was settled ages ago. But if it still bothers you, there's something you could do. Dream of the best fucking doom you will compose, against my shoulder."

Erik's wish bordered on the ridiculous. But after being up for so long, it was also very much inviting. Kim closed her eyes, leaned against Erik, and began to imagine a bass rig with a ridiculous amount of kilowatts. That mental image blended with the drone of the engine, and she thought only faintly that such power would also amplify all the mistakes in her playing as well, before she fell asleep.

…

A few times Ian had been close to detection. But moving low and ducking back behind a corner when necessary had saved his ass so far. He was frightened of the constant pounding of his heart though. He really should have been just lying down and resting.

The monitor's alarm had surely triggered, so there was no time to waste.

The bad news was, he didn't have a hundred percent sure sense of direction. He'd checked the corridor he and Russ had waited in, and now Russ wasn't there? Was that a good sign, or not?

At this hour the traffic was minimal. It was both good and bad, as the encounters were fewer, but getting found out would be more likely too.

Ian rounded a further corner. One more room to check; the coast was clear. The nurses were probably in his room right now, having found him absent. They'd probably sound a further alarm any second now.

Ian opened the door slightly and crept in.

Sure enough, Jo was there. She looked like – like she occupied the physical world only halfway? Hopefully that was just Ian's own delirious thinking, but in any case it made his heart ache even worse.

For one more time, his mind reminded that this wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. But he was already closing the distance.

Jo was certainly awake. She turned and saw him now.

"Ian? What the -"

At this point her words were drowned by the hiss of blood in Ian's ears, as he managed to climb up to her bed and close her in his arms. Too late he realized that it had taken the last of his strength, as his vision blacked out. But if this was the end, it had been worth it.