Pulse of Heroes (62 page)

“What have you done to her?” Elliot roared,
grabbing a hold of the iron bars and inching his face as close as
he could to Hadeno’s.

“Nothing you hadn’t planned on doing
yourself. Although I am disappointed in you, you cradle robber. She
is quite young and very undisciplined. What was your plan? To mold
her to fit your personal whims? I am sorry, but I’m afraid I got to
her first. We’re working on lesson four, learning when to keep our
mouth shut.” Hadeno tilted his head. “I hope you didn’t invite
anyone else to join the party, because if I don’t find the guests
to my liking I will not only kill you, but I’ll kill her first in
front of you.” Hadeno walked away, and as his image was swallowed
by the darkness he told Elliot not to put too much stock in the
fact that he was the only one with the ancient formula. “That’s not
why you’re here. And besides, we’ve been making headway with our
own alloys, and have already forged a couple of weapons that came
very close to the real thing.”

“Then what do you want from me!” Elliot
yelled after him, but Hadeno didn’t answer back.

Elliot knew that his friends were already up
there giving hell to anyone that came their way. It was now up to
him to get out of that damn jail, and he had come prepared. Elliot
removed his left boot and took out the plastic explosives he had
hidden under his footpad. He knew that he only had one chance, and
a limited amount of time to get out of there while his friends kept
the others occupied. Elliot began running his hands along the
walls, trying to detect any difference in the temperatures at the
upper corners. Hadeno had come from a hallway to the front of the
room, which indicated that there were probably more rooms beyond
that and eventually he could find a door to the outside. But he had
only managed to get his hands on a minimal amount of the explosive
putty on such short notice, and he wasn’t sure if such a small
explosion could create enough energy to rip through the thick iron
bars. No, he would have to take his chances with one of the old
stone walls.

Elliot placed the putty into the coldest
crevice he could find. He took off his boots and socks and stood
barefoot on the pressed dirt floor. He then placed both his hands
on the putty and his eyes began changing hues between green and
blue. Elliot’s body was acting as an electrical conduit. He was
amassing an amazing electrical charge, pulling energy directly from
the earth’s molten metal core, and within about a minute the putty
began melting and smoking. The trick was to get the explosive
material hot enough to catch, but once that happened Elliot would
have to jump back and seek cover. It all had to go perfectly or
else he could end up losing a limb or two. Elliot himself had never
done this before, but Mikoto had, and told him he would feel the
heat just starting to singe the outer layer of his dermis and at
that point he would have about a half a second to jump back. Just
like Mikoto had explained, Elliot smelled the odor of burning flesh
before he actually felt it. He leaped backwards to crouch down in
the opposite corner of the cell and covered his face with his arm.
The sound of the blast shook the entire room, and dust and rocks
fell over Elliot’s head.

At first he thought he might be doomed and
that the whole place would collapse on top of him. But when the
dust settled and Elliot could open his eyes, he was disappointed to
see that only a few rocks had tumbled out of place and that there
was no outside beyond them, just more rubble. The plan had failed
and now Michelle was in even more danger than before. But then his
eyes focused on something colorful that appeared to be sticking out
of the collapsed stones. Elliot reached up towards it. It was a
small chamomile flower, its white leaves having turned a shade of
gray from all the dust. The flower was still attached to its roots,
and there was fresh dirt clinging to those. It gave Elliot the hope
that he needed, and he began pulling more stones and rubble from
the hole in the wall. After about a minute of doing that, more
flowers collapsed down on top of him. Standing on top of the pile,
he thrust his hand through the dirt, feeling the fresh night breeze
on his dusty fingers.

There was movement outside, and Elliot heard
Haneul’s voice telling him that the guys were still occupied with
the others but had killed at least one of them, and that he had
heard the explosion. Elliot saw Haneul’s fingers grabbing dirt and
rocks and pulling them to the side. The hole was getting bigger and
Elliot could see the night sky above when all of a sudden he heard
Haneul swearing and the sound of metal hitting metal. Someone had
discovered them, and if Haneul wasn’t quick in subduing the enemy
more were sure to come. Elliot began digging with even more fury,
and a second later he was squeezing himself through the small
opening. Haneul was fighting the large African man with the bone
earrings, and they seemed to be equally matched in skill. All
Elliot had was his short spear, and there was no way he could throw
it at the man and not risk stabbing his friend.

“Go,” Haneul called out to Elliot, “I’ve got
this. Go find Michelle!” Elliot still wasn’t sure, so as if to calm
his worries Haneul swung his sword in large circles above his head.
While his opponent tried to block its inertia with his own sword,
in a quick move Haneul pulled out Mikoto’s metal fan and spread it
open, tossing it like a Frisbee straight into the guy’s neck.
Massive amounts of blood began to spray in every direction, and the
shocked African crumpled to his knees, then tipped over dead.

Michelle paced around the room despite being
in pain. Her throat burned on the inside, while the outside of her
neck was sore and still showed the imprints of Haden’s fingers. It
hurt to breathe and her back was sore. She felt like a caged animal
and it seemed as if the walls were moving inwards towards her. The
room felt smaller than before, and she was sweating. She looked out
the window, but couldn’t see anything besides the black SUV which
she assumed belonged to Elliot. She wondered why Haden had asked to
speak to her, rightly concluding that Elliot had asked about her
and wanted to hear her voice. The guy that came in to hand her the
phone was one of the guys that saw her the night before when she
was wrapped in nothing but a sheet. He was attractive just like the
rest, and made her feel even more embarrassed when he looked at her
torn dress and snickered.

“He must miss you already,” he laughed as he
hung up the call. He then looked her up and down and said something
in another language before he locked her in again. The whole idea
of her being nothing but a lure to draw Elliot was fading fast and
the idea of being stuck there with Haden for God knows how long was
something that she just couldn’t fathom. There was movement outside
the room somewhere, and the sound of fast confident footsteps
heading towards the door. It was Haden. Michelle heard the locks
disengage again and cowered behind the curtains.

“Michelle!” he yelled out in an angry voice
as he closed the door behind him. Haden was sweating and his hair
was tangled and disheveled. He held the sword she saw earlier, only
this time there was a streak of fresh blood on it. There were also
droplets of blood all over his face and neck. He looked absolutely
dreadful. Michelle’s first thought was that he was hurt, and it
scared her. As much as she had wanted him dead only an hour or so
earlier, she was no killer and the idea of seeing anyone hurt,
really hurt, was not something she could stomach.

“Michelle!!!” he roared again, only this time
his eyes settled on her frightened face.

“What happened?” Michelle asked in a shaking
voice. Haden didn’t understand why she looked so frightened until
he caught a glimpse of his image in the large mirror.

“Nothing happened. It’s not my blood,” he
said in satisfaction. Michelle immediately concluded that if the
blood wasn’t Haden’s then it had to be Elliot’s, and the
possibility of that made her feel like she wanted to tear Haden
into pieces with her own hands. Michelle swallowed hard and stood
up as straight as possible. She wasn’t going to feel ashamed for
caring.

“And Elliot?” she asked. Haden spit on the
floor with fury.

“You can consider him dead.” Michelle was at
a loss. She was angry with Elliot, disappointed at him, betrayed by
him, and disillusioned, but she still cared and couldn’t explain
why. And all those feelings came rushing in the moment she thought
that the world no longer held a place for him. It didn’t matter if
she never saw him again, but she wanted to know that he was
somewhere out there. A world without Elliot was an ugly world, one
that she wanted no part of.

“No!!!!!” Michelle wailed and began weeping
uncontrollably. Haden seemed to be enjoying her sorrow and walked
over to where she was collapsed on the floor. He stood over her and
grabbed her hair, tilting her head until her face faced his.

“You wished me dead, remember? Not a very
nice wish. Now you see what it feels like. Things could have been
good between us, but now I …” Haden stopped mid-sentence and seemed
to be listening to something. He swiftly moved to the large window,
then opened the bathroom door and went to look out the small
windows in there. When he came back into the bedroom Michelle
looked at him curiously. If Elliot was dead, then what was he
worried about? Haden must have read Michelle’s mind and waved his
finger at her.

“Don’t even think about it. My men are out
there searching the area for any of his friends. You see, he was
told to come alone. I made it very clear to him that your precious
life depended on it. But I guess that didn’t matter to him at all.
He was more worried about saving his own skin than yours,” he
laughed. But just then, there was a sound of heavy footsteps on the
roof and they both looked up. Haden moved in their direction while
Michelle shadowed him. The sound was directly above them now, and
Michelle wondered if maybe Haden was talking about Rion since she
had seen him at the concert. Maybe Rion was still trying to save
her, and she thanked him for that from the bottom of her heart. He
might have been outlandish, even aloof at times, but she could tell
that he had a warm heart. He wouldn’t leave her there, would
he?

The thought of poor Elliot’s blood spattered
across Haden’s neck was making her ill, and she just couldn’t make
peace with not seeing him again. She had to see it for herself to
believe it was true. The footsteps moved to the bathroom, and
Michelle saw Haden’s arm flex as he tightened his grip on his
sword. He was obviously concerned about whoever it was that might
be up there, which Michelle took to mean that he didn’t have as
much control over the situation as he had led her to believe.

“I want to see him. I want to see Elliot,”
Michelle demanded in a steady voice. “I don’t believe he’s dead.
You’re just bluffing,” she continued. Haden was obviously annoyed
because she could see the muscles above his jowls tighten and his
grip on the sword got even tenser.

“I don’t care what the hell you want! You are
nothing! Do you understand? Nothing!”

More tears. “I want to see him!” Michelle
yelled out, and just as Haden raised his hand to slap her again,
the angel decorated stained glass window above the tub shattered
into a million colorful pieces, hurling and raining jewel-like
fragments all over the empty bathtub with a thunderous resonance.
It was an explosive kaleidoscope of colors brilliantly floating
through the air like a synchronized dance in slow motion. Before
the first of the fragments had even hit the floor, a pair of
buckled black boots pierced through the gaping tear in the middle
of the window, after which followed a pair of black pants, and then
hands and sleeves.

By the time Elliot landed on the stone floor,
Haden had grabbed Michelle and forced her in front of him. He
draped his arm across her chest and neck while with the other he
pointed the sword at her back. Michelle had closed her eyes
instinctively to avoid the falling glass, but when she opened them
and saw Elliot standing in front of her she didn’t know what to
say. Was he too an angel from up above? Was she dead? She couldn’t
really tell what was happening because the echo of the glass
shattering still reverberated in her eardrums. All she knew was
that her heart was beating a million beats per second, and that
Elliot looked so beautiful to her. It was like he exuded a light
that was unseen, but she could feel it. She wanted to run to him
and fall into his arms. She wanted to drown in the blue of his
eyes, which looked like the color of the ocean when the full moon
shone on it. Without even noticing that Haden had his arm around
her, Michelle took an involuntary step forward towards Elliot.

“Elliot,” she yelled out to him, and saw his
eyes soften at the sound of his name. But in less than a second
they were back into slits of fierceness.

“Michelle,” he said in a calm voice,
stretching his hand in front of her like a stop guard motioning her
to stay in place, “it’s going to be ok. Don’t move now, ok?” Only
then did she realize that Haden was holding his sword to her
back.

“You just keep looking straight,” Haden
commanded her, “and you won’t get hurt,” he said while running the
cold metal up her bare leg. The idea of dying by sword was
something she had never thought of; fire, plane crash maybe, even
getting shot, but never until then did she imagine what the pain of
a sharp heavy blade piercing her skin and through her internal
organs would feel like. The sword was much bigger and sharper then
she had ever expected. And to think that such a grotesque tool was
used in wars throughout most of history made her think about the
millions of people who died by its sharp profile, and she prayed
for all of them, as much as she was praying for herself. She didn’t
want to die like that. She was scared to death.