Scarred Protector(5)

Heath took a deep breath as consciousness returned. His lungs hurt, and he could taste blood in his mouth. His ribs were probably broken, and it wouldn’t be the first time. The rain poured down on his face as he lay flat on his back on the roof of the car park. He opened his mouth and took in the moisture to wet his throat that was parched from the explosion. His body had just gone through a landslide and felt as if it had been flattened. Then he realized his arms were empty. It brought everything back. He was a good Midworlder, but there had been one other time when he had let someone down. Tears came to his eyes at the thought he had failed again. He should go to Homeworld now and die. No, that was not the way he did things as the smoldering anger rose in him again. He would kill whoever had taken Evie.





             “What the fuck is going on?”

Heath breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Evie yell her complaint. She really did use a lot of swear words, but then he considered she was justified at the moment and even smiled. It was probably better if she did not see his amusement at their situation right now though. He had to be honest and say her profanity was one of the most reassuring sounds he had heard in a long time. He tried to get his head to lift off the ground and look around. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working too well at the moment. After much effort, he managed to glance to the side.

“Damn this world and any others with their bloody angels and weird creepy guys. Like I didn’t have enough going on in my life without all this weird shit.” Evie had a hand on either side of her head as she shook it, as if trying to get what was happening to disappear.

Heath wished he could chuckle, but his body was incapable at the moment. The muscles in his neck protested as if they were being pulled apart. There was a tingling in his fingers and toes, and all he could hope was that he was getting back control of his body. He turned his head again to see Evie, on all fours, scrambling around in the rain to pick up her bag, keys, and cell phone. He thought she would make a run for it once she had them, but instead she came back. Kneeling down next to him with rain dripping down her face, he thought she was the most beautiful sight he had seen in a long time. He still wasn’t sure how they were alive. She wiped off her face on her sleeve as she peered at him.



             “Can you move?”

He nodded his head and tried to get up, eventually managing to sit up with her help. Standing was another matter. As she helped him up, his legs gave out and he slumped to his knees, and pain shot up into his hips.

“Stay there, I’ll move the car. You’re too bloody big for me to carry anyway.”

She ran over to her car, and he could not do anything other than watch as agony coursed through his body and he thought he would pass out again. He glanced down at his wings to see they were singed and brown on the tips, but the rain had prevented further damage. He closed his eyes and reabsorbed them into his body. Normally, the sensation felt like nothing more than blinking, but tonight his back ached unbearably when he reabsorbed them. They would heal now he was back on Earth, but it would be a while before he could fight or fly again.

Her car pulled up next to him, sending a spray of water over his body. He chuckled as he considered he had never felt so pathetic in his life before, as he sat there soaked. Evie jumped out of the car and crouched down on the ground next to him and shook her head.

“Are you laughing? I fail to see what’s so bloody amusing. You need to get your act together if that other creep Charles is coming back. I need you back to your bloody superpowers or whatever they are, and quick.”

She was right, but he couldn’t stop the giggles from escaping his throat. He needed to keep control so no more humor or anger could escape. Evie grabbed his arm, placed it around her shoulder, and heaved him up. He managed to stand but had a feeling his legs would give out at any moment. He didn’t like feeling weak one little bit. This was not the way he dealt with things. He shook his head as his thoughts and vision became fuzzy.



             The world around him seemed unfamiliar. Where were the horses? He was a good horseman, but must have fallen, as his body ached. This didn’t make sense. Elizabeth was gentle, and yet she was helping him and seemed to be taking him in some contraction that made ridiculous noises. Where was his groom?

His body flopped on the backseat of a car as he took in a deep breath. What the hell had happened? He could have sworn he was back with his beloved Elizabeth two hundred years before. She had been beside him helping him into the car. It was impossible. His only true love had died long ago and the thought of her brought back images of her death. He could see her laying pale against her bed sheets in a white nightgown. The only color, the red of her blood soaked into the sheets from the cuts on her wrists.

He had never been able to save her from the voices tormenting her brain, and had lived all these years with the guilt. Was he going to be made to suffer it all again? The streetlights passed by, and he tried to put together in his mind what was happening. All he could think was that he was blaming himself with pointless guilt for what was happening now. Evie was mumbling under her breath while she drove, but he couldn’t make out the words. He couldn’t blame her. He was supposed to be saving her, and he was the one incapacitated. Closing his eyes, he sent out thoughts to the other members of his enclave. They would have expected him back by now but would not know where to find him. No response came.

His thoughts hit a wall of heat and darkness and bounced back sending him into oblivion. He yelled out but didn’t even know what he had said. All he could think was that he had brought back with him whatever had been hiding in the conduit between worlds. His head thumped as he returned to consciousness. There was a light in front of the car, and he could hear the motor of a garage door opening. He had failed Evie again by passing out while she drove them to her home. How much time had passed, he could only guess. She opened the car door and frowned at him. Heath lifted himself up onto his elbows, but that was all he could do before the dizziness hit again and he fell back.



             “You look like shit, you know. I thought you were supposed to be saving me? Are you in a lot of pain?”

Heath nodded as she grabbed both of his arms and pulled him out of the back seat of the car. His legs shuddered beneath him as he stood with one of his arms around her shoulder. Evie couldn’t be much more than five-foot-five and she grunted as she helped him along. He needed to get his bearings and glanced around in the dim light to see her old car surrounded by clutter: an old trailer, ladders, a wheelbarrow, and all the tools of a handyman covered in cobwebs. He wondered whether they had been her fathers. There was a door at the back of the garage, and she opened it to let them through to a darkened hallway. Evie reached to one side and turned on a switch. They continued to make their way up the corridor toward the back of the house. He could hear Evie huffing and puffing under the stress of carrying him. They should be at his home. He could do nothing here in his condition and without his people. He tried again to send out a message but to no avail.

They stopped and entered another room. The light was flicked on, and Evie helped him over to a couch. She grunted as she dumped him onto it. He was glad to sit down, as his legs were about to give out. His head no longer seemed to have the capacity to hold his brain, which he thought would explode. Plus, he couldn’t stop the shivers going through his body.





             “I’m going to get changed, and I’ll see if I can find some of Dad’s old clothes for you since yours are drenched. I don’t suppose I need to tell you not to move.”

Evie left and Heath looked about the room. He didn’t like the fact she was out of his sight, but she was right. They needed to get out of the wet clothes. There was a desk in the corner with two laptops on it. The couch and a coffee table were covered in books piled high. The curtains were drawn and something told him they had been that way for a long time. He needed to get control back. He took a deep breath and tried to sit up. For the first time in a while, he didn’t think he would pass out. He closed his eyes and looked into his body to see what the problem was. All he could sense was that something had attacked him in the darkness, but he still didn’t know what. Was it gone now? He hoped his body would now start repairing. Evie returned, dressed in jeans and a baggy zip up top. She rubbed her arms as if trying to get some heat back into them. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and she had some clothes over her arms and chucked them down beside him.

“Not sure if they’ll fit, and they're not as fancy as your suit, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Heath leaned forward and tried to take his jacket off, but struggled, he took a deep breath to stop himself from passing out.



“I’ll help. Come on, you’ll catch your death in this wet stuff. Talking about death, can your lot die?”

“Yes,” he croaked and found that even speaking was a strain. She pulled off his jacket and started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Heath reached up and touched her cheek with the palm of his hand. She moved back as though she had been burnt. He hadn’t meant to be so personal, but it had seemed the right thing to do at that moment.