ACT XI

I, Elisa Maza, was unworthy to love Goliath.

Robyn Canmore drubbed us but we still searched the safe for whatever was lifted. Nothing seemed to be touched save for a floppy disk port; some kind of connection to the DI-7 robbery?

Late backup and E.M.T.'s arrived. Because my ribs excruciated me with every breath, I had to be admitted to a hospital.

"Take my car and meet me," I told Matt while I laid on the gurney.

Ten minutes later, I was treated for contusions and cuts. An M.R.I. showed no life threatening trauma.

"You sustained a hairline fracture on a lower right-floating rib. I'm recommending injury leave." A female doctor clarified.

"I'm fine." I hopped off an exam bed jarring the damaged rib. I instinctively held it then looked at her.

"You should be observed for at least forty-eight hours. I'll prescribe pain meds," She smiled before leaving.

Whatever. On the clock, off the clock, all I wanted was to find Goliath. It was getting closer to eleven A.M. when I was assigned a room and wearing a damn hospital gown. Matt came in with a bemused look.

"Must. Tweet. This." He positioned his phone to take a picture.

"I'll shove that up your ass so far, when you fart you'll call China." I coerced him to lower it.

While I explained my condition I noticed the TV had WVRN coverage of the attack of the Twenty-Third, but the gargoyles were fully blamed. It was best that they weren't awake to see it but it was unlikely to end. The lower-third scrolling read, "Governor Andrew Cuomo, Mayor Bill DeBlasio, Commissioner William Bratton, Assistant District Attorney Margot Yale press conference at 23rd Precinct bombing site."

The catalyst to my worst week in the history of ever stepped up to a gaggle of mics. I raised the volume just as she inhaled to speak. "Our great city was terrorized, attacked yet again. This time, New York's Finest were senselessly targeted. This time it was done by gargoyles. Yes, they're real, amongst us and our enemies."

"Shitballs on Melba toast!" I exclaimed.

"I've been up close and personal with these vermin in several instances. Three nights ago they harassed and tormented me, my husband and other subway car passengers. They're capable of thinking, speaking and disregarding human lives. Their existence is intolerable and unacceptable. My fellow New Yorkers, my fellow Americans must either detain or destroy these abominations."

"Margot Yale: our new Miss Intolerance 2017," I interjected.

"In light of this unprovoked attack, I've requested of the governor, the mayor, and Commissioner Bratton to devote a portion of the budget to a Gargoyle Task Force. Therefore, I summon N.Y.P.D. officers to avenge your brothers and sisters in-arms. We fight terrorism from humans but we'll fight terrorism from non-humans even harder."

Yale kept her speech short and bitter, and then everyone began fielding questions. Her bigotry would filter the truth of how the gargoyles unconditionally protected this city for nearly two years. She wasn't even worthy pitying.

My fellow officers hunting those I care about; I couldn't support that brand of law enforcement. I definitely had to quit. Then the proverbial light bulb appeared over my head.

"Hey Yale, the seventies called. They told you to keep that wardrobe. She's got some nerve trying to siphon the city budget for that crap." Matt said.

"Volunteer for that goddamn task force. Hell, tell her you want to run the thing," I strongly suggested.

"Have you lost your mind? The clan are my friends, too!" Matt must've seen emus in my nose or something.

"Think about it, Bluestone. You'd be a figurehead running interference," I emphatically tapped my temple. "Listen, I'm gonna attempt to talk some sense into Goliath."

"And I suppose I'll divert those who want to bag a gargoyle?" Matt shrugged cartoonishly before departure.

He caught my drift. Conspiracy theorist-Matt perfectly complemented Yale's nonsense. Even if incapacitating the gargoyles were necessary, his logic would keep them alive.

My presence again in this hospital reminded me of my stay here after I was accidentally shot, Whenever Big Guy sneaked in through the window for after-hours visits, I healed from his encouraging aura and rumbling whispers of John Keats poetry at my bedside.

His visits were quite cathartic. Unfortunately, he wasn't around while I rested with banged up ribs and witnessed the media lynch his clan. A sunset later I heard Lexington's ringtone

"Where are you, Lex? Are you all right?" I assumed it was either him or Brooklyn.

"It is Goliath. Our presence is throughout the city, as was my longtime contingency. Our concern is for you and your fellow officers."

"We all made it out hurt, but intact. Listen, you and I need to talk in person." I begged.

I heard a wash of air indicative of his heavy sigh. "We shall meet where you first watched over me."

"All right, keep holding onto that phone. I'll text you on arrival," I instructed.

Then nothing else from him; I'd hoped it was a hang up or dropped signal; not their being discovered and attacked. I asked the front desk for my belongings. Once I dressed, I left and took a subway towards Central Park.

It was adequately dark there for cover. Goliath and I hadn't returned since our first sightseeing of New York City. The Xanatos squad ruined its conclusion by trying to murder us. Hopefully, this meeting wouldn't encore such a horrific event.

"Take it easy, Maza," I vocalized. Somehow things had always come full circle.

I texted once close by the rendezvous. Patrolling Central Park at night was the only unwanted part of my job. Tonight would sting like a rabid hornet.

I searched for surveillance cameras though he wasn't always easily photographed. While joggers and speedwalkers passed, I worried if Goliath ran into the Canmores or the police. He'd been through tough scrapes, but the scope of this one was obviously worse than ever.

"Where the hell is he?" My worry amplified as time passed. I exposed the dirt under the grass from so much pacing.

A rustling in the trees above me answered my interrogative. I stared up at a pair of ocular lights floating amongst the leaves. Then the giant, graceful Goliath silently landed and cloaked his wings ten feet in front of me. I needed his arms around me, not caring if pain was involved but Goliath prevented my approach.

"I apologize for the tardiness. I had to be certain we were completely alone," Goliath said.

I updated him with events since they slept: the Hunters being the Canmores, the news coverage, Yale's task force, my meeting the female Hunter and how Jason Canmore deceived me.

"The Hunters have no honor! They must pay with their lives!" His eyes illuminated then he clenched his fists and unfurled his wings.

"Dammit, calm down! It's a national security matter! Let the law handle it!" I assessed.

"Fie! Human law pales in comparison to gargoyle law." Something was definitely wrong. He behaved worse than Thailog, his evil clone.

"You're not making sense," I needed to understand.

"We are inclined to integrate. It is a heavy weight on my soul being denied rights and emotions." He exhaled and faced me with re-emergent eyes. "The Hunters obstruct our right to live."

"Still not a lick of sense; your allies, especially me, don't deny you a thing. Do you still trust me?'

"I thought I could even exceed trusting you. But what I witnessed at your apartment the other night gave me pause." He responded with a finite tone, shut his eyes and turned away.

It finally hit me like a Looney Tunes-anvil. It was suddenly very quiet; no car horns, birds chirping, yelling, music. There were only heartbeats: mine and his that sounded broken. I knew I sensed him! He saw Canmore and me making out!

"I stopped long before I discovered what he is, because I thought of you, of us. Nothing more happened!"

"Ending the Hunters is all we have left. We should convene at your apartment to strategize." He motioned to leave.

"Please don't go just yet. I have to tell you something! Goliath!" I was ignored while he sunk a claw into a tree to climb. "Hey, TINY!"

During our Avalon quest, an Easter Island alien zapped my brain and caused short-term amnesia. I hadn't recognized Goliath then, so I called him Tiny. He pried his claw loose and faced me with glowing eyes.

"You ain't the only person on Earth who suffers, Tiny! Guess how many dead babies I've seen! And my mentor murdered his wife, my friend, LAST NIGHT! There's a plethora of tragic losses to go around!"

My voice cracked with the last sentence. I saw Goliath's return to me thru welled-up tears. He gently wiped them off my cheeks.

"I am so sorry, Elisa. But that only proves how so different our worlds are. You once made that very evident to me."

"When the hell have I ever done that?" Then I soon had crystal clear recollection of our reactions following the Mirror-incident and Avalon. "Do you have romantic feelings for me?"

Goliath turned away yet again, as ashamed as when he desired to stroke my hair. There was no need for him to verbalize. He was in love with me.

"I love you, too. What do you think about that?" I had to convince Goliath.

"I'd think you were attempting to make me feel better." He settled into stagnancy.

"Goliath, I mean it. I'm very much in love with you," I repeated.

"Each member of the clan will meet at your apartment in ten minute intervals. You may text me as to when to begin."

He retraced his steps to ascend the tree. Once again my sight was blurred by tears. While he skittered through the foliage and soared away, I vomited something I don't even remember eating.

I, Elisa Maza, should've been aware of why we publicly displayed affection on the subway. I should've paid closer attention to our balcony interaction. Instead, I crushed on Jason Canmore and inadvertently shattered Goliath's effort to integrate.

END ACT XI