Sky Ghosts: All for One (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1) (34 page)

“You must have had a concussion, you’re not okay. We’re gonna get you in there, you’ll lie down, and Doc will do whatever he has to do, and you won’t be a trouble. Do you hear me, you old stubborn man?” Pain enquired, her voice stern and patronizing. Peter only chuckled weakly.

They were already in the doorway, and one of the fighters got off his bed and moved to a chair. The sisters hurried there and lowered Peter onto the cot. Pain fumbled in her memory for the guy’s name and failed. She turned to him anyway, her face concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded and switched his worried look to Peter.

He lay on the bed and gazed at the sisters dizzily.

“Wow, you look so alike from upside down, like I’m seeing double.” He smiled weakly and closed his eyes.

“Don’t.” Jane touched his shoulder. “Don’t close your eyes, you should stay conscious,” she said in a trembling voice.

His eyelids lifted slowly, and they both saw that something had changed in his look. It was grave now, indescribably thoughtful and sad.

“Eugene broke the Code. He trashed our home, killed our men. He’s insane. All I want is to stop him, once and for all, make him regret he ever sent his fighters here- ”

“To kill him?” Pain suggested.

“To cut him in two halves and wind his guts all over the Brooklyn Bridge, whatever.” He grimaced, and for a moment they could see Peter-the-fighter in his eyes, the one that had chosen this life a long time ago, that fought and never lost until now. “Just him, no one else. And I’m stuck here. Useless,” he whispered bitterly, and without thinking, Pain stepped around the bed and took his right palm because the left one was already in Jane’s hands. “I’ve failed you all. I was so unprepared for this. I won’t be surprised if after this night everybody will break their contracts and find a better place for themselves- ”

“Stop it!” Pain cut him off, squeezing his hand in hers. “You’re not useless, you’re wounded! Nobody will leave, and nobody thinks it’s your fault!” she said in a harsh whisper as people scurried and hustled around them.

“Maybe not, but they’re still afraid. Nobody will stand against Eugene anymore…” He shook his head slightly, wincing at the pain the motion had brought.

“We will,” Pain and Jane said in unison and glanced at each other, confused. Pain looked back to Peter. “There’s no point in worrying about it right now. We’ll figure this out, just get some rest, will you?” Her eyebrows flicked up, and Peter sighed and squeezed his eyes shut in a silent agreement.

Once again, Doc materialized at the bed, startling her. He was the only one able to sneak up on her, and she stepped aside, letting him get closer to Peter.

“How do you feel? Any vertigo, nausea?” Doc asked him, peering into his eyes and taking his pulse.

“Some vertigo, nausea,” Peter responded in Doc’s voice.

“Still have your sense of humor, good,” Doc approved. “You’ll be alright, but you have to stay in bed. Tiffany will take care of your head. Now roll onto your side…” his voice got lost in the commotion as the girls stepped back and left the infirmary, hesitant and equally unsure what to do now and where to go.

As they came outside, Pain felt nauseated and dizzy herself. Suddenly, she was disgusted with all this, bone-tired and hollowed up, only the feeling of cold despair left and gripping her insides in a sickening grasp. She paused, breathing in and out deeply and trying not to look at what was going on around her – men hurrying to and fro, the red lights giving them a grim cast, making the place look like a scene from some horror movie. There was a sudden touch on her shoulder that almost made her jump.

“Hey, I forgot I wanted to check on Ryan,” Jane said by her side, unaware of her condition.

“Right,” she heard herself saying, “You go, I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll go upstairs.”

“Okay,” Jane responded, sounding confused. She turned and disappeared behind the infirmary door again.

Pain didn’t move from her spot.

Why didn’t she go with her sister? Ryan was hurt badly. Head injuries were dangerous, and she didn’t know if the rest of him was alright. That door, she didn’t really remember if it was heavy, thanks to the adrenaline rush, but no doubt it could have killed Ryan, the thing so damn massive. Why wasn’t she there, with him? She loved him just as she loved Marco, and Jane was so worried about him. She knew there was some kind of a connection between them since the day he showed up.

Someone bumped into her in the semidarkness and cursed. She just pressed silently to the wall, letting him pass. Without thinking, she began to walk to the staircase slowly, the events of this too-long night filling her mind against her will. And that was when she realized why she wasn’t in the infirmary with Jane and Ryan and the others. She just didn’t have anything left for that, for seeing Ryan wounded, too. It was like she had spent all of her emotions struggling through these few hours, like there was no energy for feelings inside her anymore because it all was too much. Now she could only move and cast around and hope that no one would try talking to her.

Where’s Jerry?
The thought burned her mind suddenly. She was so used to seeing him always next to Peter or Skull, the two of them looking comically grotesque together with Jerry’s head barely reaching Skull’s shoulder. She remembered his call, she was astonished and frustrated from it. Then she was angry at Chad’s words and at him kissing her, and after that, at herself letting him do it. Then was the bloody roof, and Chuck with his squad, all so cocky and brave, twenty against the two of them. And she was enraged to the point of madness, obscurely glad about the impending battle, ready to tear apart anyone who would stand in her way. The all-consuming urge to kill, kill each of them, snap their necks, kick their ribs in, cut them into pieces, driving everything else out of her. And she did, though not as well as she could do without having to protect anybody, but she did get some of that out, some of those bastards broken. Then there was a vortex of feelings: dread when Jane almost got killed, shock when Chad jumped off the roof, surprise at his sacrifice, dread again when picturing him dead, and more surprise when she saw him fly. Bitterness and guts-deep disappointment when he rejected the whole Sky Ghosts’ agenda… More anger toward herself at the realization what shallow concerns filled her head when she didn’t know if the others were safe or even close to it. She was about to fall apart when she saw their building swarm with Beasts, but she went on, and the necessity to find Marco gave her some strength. And then she almost died along with him, and there was no feelings already at that point, and she finally gave up.

But then Chad was there.

The thought burned her mind again, and she sucked in a breath. She had been numb enough by that time not to care if she would regret letting him hold her afterward. And now they took him away, almost killing the last of her friends who were intact in the process. It felt like the last string inside her had torn, and there was nothing left to keep her whole. She wanted to lie down, to curl up on her bed and press her forehead to her knees; no, she wanted to vanish, to dissolve in this dim light, these walls, and never talk to anybody again.

She realized she was at the staircase now, not remembering how she got there or what the floor was, so she just kept staggering up the stairs. There were no Beasts, and she doubted they just lost interest after retrieving Chad and Dave. Most likely, they were ordered to leave the place. It meant Eugene didn’t intend to eliminate them all, just to show that he was able to do so.

A big white number three loomed on the wall in front of her, and she paused involuntarily before opening the door. Was it ruined, too? Were there bodies, blood, broken furniture around? Her room would be demolished, no doubt. It just had to be, with all her luck.

She pulled at the handle, and it felt like the door was made out of stone. The lights were bright in the hall, and her eyebrows went up when she didn’t find any bodies or heaps of broken chairs there. Of course, it was obvious that the battle had not left this floor out, but it seemed the upper one took most of the damage.

She crossed the hall slowly, glancing around. Some of the doors were open and cracked, the marble floor was dirty, the walls smeared with blood. Turning at the corner, she half-expected to see the door of her room hanging open, all their things thrown out, her bras dangling from the ceiling, but it was closed. Already at the threshold, she glanced to the left – Marco’s door hung on one hinge, a head-shaped hole in it. He must have been in his room when the Beasts came, she thought. At least, he had given them a good welcome.

She turned the knob and pulled her door open. The lights were off, and as she clicked the switch, she almost found some energy to get surprised again – the room was absolutely intact. The door swung shut behind her, and she leaned against it, letting out a shuddering breath. Finally, she was alone. Being in her room like this, she could almost pretend nothing had happened. That there were no Chad and Dave, no battles, no victims. Except that it wasn’t true, and she could feel all her losses so deep in her bones that she didn’t think she would ever be able to sleep, to close her eyes and not see Peter’s pale face or Ryan’s scarlet hair or Chad as he stood on that roof, shell-shocked and frantic.

Her back sheath jabbed into her spine, and she unbuckled it angrily with disobedient fingers and tossed it to the floor, sliding down the door and sitting right there, at the threshold. Images were flashing in her mind as she stared sightlessly ahead, hugging her knees and begging for them to stop, to get out of her head, to leave her alone at last. For a moment she regretted she wasn’t like normal people, couldn’t just pass out after all she had seen that night. She grimaced, trying for a rueful smile and failing. This was all Eugene, even the way she felt now – God, she wanted to be like humans.

She leaned back against the door with a ragged sigh.
Eugene, Eugene, there must be a way to kill you, right? To capture you and make you starve until you’re weak, until your shield is gone, and there’s only a fine sharp knife waiting for you. And nobody would come. No one cares about you, I bet.

She remembered being in his office. She shouldn’t have left without trying to kill him right there and then. Certainly, he wouldn’t expect an attack in his own building. She could have stopped it all, she thought. Just a tiny chance, but still. And she only stayed in that air duct.

Her head snapped upright suddenly. One single picture froze before her eyes, sending a pulse of weak excitement through her body as she felt her heart give a jolt. A white rectangle of paper covered in a net of lines. Eugene’s building plan.

She grabbed the doorknob, pulling herself up, and staggered to the vanity table. It must have been somewhere in her drawer still, she knew she put it there. The drawer rolled open, flew out of its slides, and clattered to the floor. She rummaged through the papers with trembling hands – there it was, folded in two, the source of her desperate plan. A corner of her mouth twitched in a ghost of a rueful sneer.
Time to pay, Eugene,
she thought darkly and got to her feet, dragging herself to the bathroom.

Inside it, she threw open the medicine cabinet door and fumbled for a bottle of caffeine pills. She used them when she didn’t feel well, a few times in a year, maybe. Unscrewing the lid, she took out two, no, three, turned on the water and swallowed them, making herself keep the water down with an effort. There was very little time.

She dashed outside, knocking the bottle over and making the pills spill on the floor and out, to the room, like white round bugs. In fact, there was no time, and Jane could show up any second. The wardrobe door flew open as she unzipped her jacket and unbuckled her pants. Somewhere there, in the back, was a new set of gear, which she had hidden long ago for an emergency. Raking out everything that was stacked inside, she could feel it before she saw it, the thick leathery material clinging to her fingers.

She kicked off her boots and pants and put on the new pair. As her heavy weapons belt slid into its place, she pulled a clean T-shirt over her head and then the jacket. All her knives were left in the ruined set of gear, and she cursed, kneeling beside it and pulling hastily some of them out. She remembered there were plenty in the wardrobe and turned back to it, picking a few short ones because she had run out of them during the battle downtown.

She packed a flashlight, too, and some bandages, because her plan included one hundred percent possibility that she would get injured. Then she bent down and snatched the piece of paper with the building plan off the floor. Folding it into a small rectangle, she paced over to the vanity and rummaged for a hair band. She would need extra focus, and there was no time for the hair getting in her eyes.

She paused there, at the mirror, after she brushed her hair and pulled it up into a ponytail. Was it her? Making rash decisions, getting hysterical, abandoning her friends, her sister? She looked herself in the eyes and saw that there was nothing left. No sense. It must have gone through that hole in her chest along with everything else.

She bent down and took her katana. Sliding the straps into their loops and buckling them up, she kept looking at her face, pinched and devastated to the point of complete blankness. No, it wasn’t her. Everything had changed, and maybe she couldn’t keep up with it, but she still was good at making people regret they had ever crossed her way.

The caffeine was working: she could already feel its warm buzz in her veins, could see how sharp everything was around her. Only her hands were still a bit unsteady as she laced the boots back on. The room was a mess now, but she didn’t care. She dashed to the window and threw it open, only to pause as the fresh air blew over her, bringing a crystal clarity along with it.