CH988IER 14
BACK H145SME
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***log14***d875d477n doctor eb598 in the r874fm. Good old Dr. Johnson - a potbellied, bearded awkward half-Asian – a kind soul. He treated his patients like sons, calling us "his kids”, often moved when cadets came back particularly battered. On his day off, he might have looked like one of those old motorcycle buffs, scruffy with black hair cut above the shoulders and a thick, unkempt black beard. With his white coat on and his prescription glasses on, he really looked like a professional.
Doc walked in and checked me out quite seriously, then smiled. "Come in Dean. He’s better now”, he said in a reassuring tone and moved next to my bed, near where Sophia was sitting a second ago.
"I suspected something”, said the man laughing and walking through the door. "They tried hard not to be noticed those three, but their laughter had already made me think everything was fine".
"Like father, like son. Not a single trauma, fracture, burn. Just scars. And Carter called us, telling to warm up a spot in the morgue. In fact, he corrects himself, in the cooler and then laughs. That guy. As if you can joke about something like that...".
"Carter likes to laugh only at other people's misfortunes. However, I am convinced that finding Lieutenant Lester alive was a real joy for him”, said the Dean, smiling. Tall, hoary, perhaps blond in his youth, clear eyes and a wrinkled face always poised between stoical and serene. I thought that probably - even as a young boy - his hair had never grown more than three millimetres. Always tidy, always clean, always martial. A perfect soldier to look at.
Dean General Evan Burris, or "Burritos" for his students, was affable and helpful to everyone. Yet he was often stern and when he said something there was no way to change his mind, but he usually didn't need to. He framed people with a stare and it was impossible to fool him. Those pole-in-the-ass from WestPoint envied us for having him, making us even happier for that.
"However, the locals were talking about having fished out a body that was almost in pieces. Let me guess, did he lose any weight?".
"All his weight”, Johnson exaggerated. "He started 84 and came back 67. He depleted almost every trace of even visceral fat. I did blood tests and it was almost saturated with serum. His body still has to dispose of all the charge. As you can see, his eyes are still pale. Tomorrow he will be in perfect shape and I will discharge him. Our Daith doesn't metabolize it as well as others in his family".
"Don't you say anything, lieutenant?", the Dean asked. I stood motionless under the blankets, with the sheet pulled up to my nose and my eyes almost half-closed. "Miserable, but healthy. Agdgadu!"
"I don't understand how I'm still alive, sir”, I said without knowing exactly how to reply, shielding myself with the blankets.
"I've stopped asking myself that question years ago, Lieutenant. I think yours is an armed force record, I'd have fun checking it out. I've never seen a cadet going down so often, it's a good thing you can't die. No, what will need to be clarified is where were you for two months, and why did you disobey specific orders".
Touché. I kept silent.
"I shouldn't be burdening you with this now. You’ll have more news tomorrow afternoon. Meanwhile, you will be on leave until tomorrow 00. But don't leave the compound. Have a good day. And, well... please, eat".
"Yes, sir. And… thank you”, I said motionless.
"Just think about getting better. There will be time for everything else”, and he left the room with his hands entwined behind his back and a worried face. "This time the matter is more complex than a fight in a gambling den or a night escape after the silence."
"What a great man, huh? Nothing like the officers who plague this place... they only think of their careers. Ah, if your father were here, dear Daith, he'd set them straight!", said the doctor trying to begin a conversation.
"But he's not here”, I remembered sadly.
"May I ask you a question?".
"If you have to". Dr. Johnson and I knew each other quite well. Despite my will, I was his number one client. He was the one who fixed my face and transplanted my artificial arm.
"While you were unconscious, I did several analyses including a complete scan of your brain activity. In this regard, your SAI is completely screwed up, forget about turning it on until the technician arrives. You've been dreaming a lot but given the depth of your sleep I'd say you can't remember what... It really struck me, though, how much your... values have changed".
"What values?".
"Let's say I detected some kind of obsessive, recurrent thought in your mind. Quite a common thing in almost all of my patients but in your case it's the first time it's happened to me".
"If it's common... I don't understand why bothering”, I said, trying to cut the conversation short. I knew Johnson; he was skirting around the crux of the matter as he normally liked to do.
"Well, I don't have the authority to ask such questions, but... wouldn't it be that someone you've met has - by chance - influenced you lately?".
"Excuse me?".
"From the tracings you appear more relaxed but at the same time under emotional stress. In short, as if you are more relaxed but your brain at the same time is focused on a fixed thought”. He was finally getting there.
"And what does that mean? It could be anything”, I said. I got him.
"You were calling a certain Deena in your sleep”. He got me. "Ah! Finally! I'm glad for you”, he rejoiced, smiling to see me embarrassed. I felt myself shrink in shame, hoping he would have been the only witness of my sheets talking. "Of course”, he said noticing my discomfort, "that you want the… thing not to be known. You've always been a shy guy”.
"I’ll fucking beat the shit outta you if you tell this to anyone. Whatever you think you know, please keep it to yourself”.
"Doctor-client privilege!", he laughed, putting his hand over his heart. "Sophia will not be happy about it”.
"The fuck, doc!", I scolded him. "Are you a doctor or a fucking gossip streamer?".
He burst out laughing with that cigar-yellowed mouth open. "You're right son, you're right! Hey... you do know that you took a big risk this time? I didn’t tell Burris what really happened to you... The testosterone levels in your blood were off the charts, not to mention your adrenaline, protein levels... Daith, the diplocardium does not make you immortal... At least in theory, at old age we'd know better damn Lester! Anyway, I gave you a TBS (total body scan) and from the 3D processing I saw the fractures... You have broken your skull box, jaw, spine, foot bones, a tibia, and the head of a femur. You must have fallen from at least…".
"At least two hundred meters”, I said. "At least underneath was the sea”.
"At least? From that height the water acted as an asphalt, not a mattress, you idiot! We had never observed the serum heal the nerves! You would be paralyzed from the navel down if not for your mutation! All that saved you was that you stayed together while you were smashing apart! We don't know how far you can go but one thing we do know, I think... Do I need to repeat it to you? Hicks' serum (named after the researcher, Tina Hicks, who first discovered and analysed the serum produced by the diplocardium) is addictive! Such massive doses have a devastating effect on your brain chemistry! I'm giving you methadone and abstitix to keep you stable! We give that stuff to wrecks picked up in the worst ghettos of megacities!".
"It's not like I went for it-this time!”.
"Daith don't insult my intelligence!".
"Maybe… just a little bit”.
"You know what I'm gonna do now? I'm teaching you a lesson. I’ll suspend your abstitix for eight hours. Let's see how you wake up in the morning, dumbass! You'll have temperature swings, constant chills, fits of rage, paranoia, hunger followed by inappetence, dry mouth despite how much you’ll drink ...”.
"Come on Doc give me a fucking break! I got it... You won! I'm sorry! I admit it, I was being a jerk as usual. I wanted to be a hero, I got myself into that mess without thinking about all the possible consequences, full package, all inclusive! But what could I do... I had to save the life...”.
"Of this Deena... of course. But when Daith will be dead ... who will you save her?", he asked, trying to instil a little wisdom in me.
"Nobody would save her”, I admitted. “Who will care about a little street rat in disguise”.
"Exactly. At least you told me what I wanted to hear. Medication or not, it's still going to be a rough night. We can alleviate some of the symptoms but... With all those excitants in your bloodstream, your mind will have a hard time shutting down. I'd say the charge will last at least all day tomorrow. You are not like Cillian and John. You produce it in spikes and dispose of it slowly. You must do physical activity, unload your body. Eat a lot by the Gods! The abstitix will keep your adrenaline levels in check and especially your temper tantrums. Stay calm and relaxed, don't fight with anyone... To get more serum back, your mind will prompt you to get excited, angry. Kind of like masturbation, endorphin addiction, you know what I mean?".
"Are you calling me a coomer, doc?" I asked in horror.
"We were all teenagers”, he dismissed me. "Now I have to go home, if there are serious problems, notify the doctor on duty. If you get an accident, they'll be looking for me. If you have to get me here, try to do it between eight and nine o'clock, so I can avoid my wife's stew... If not, stay alive, they’ll stream the Mariners game today”.
"Roger that”, I greeted him. He may have had a lot of hair on his face but he certainly didn't have any on his tongue. He amazingly managed to make me feel at home and put me in a good mood.
I spent the night in the infirmary. It was the first night awake after my plunge into the sea. I couldn’t close my eyes most of the time. I tried hard to sleep and dream but saw only darkness.
I sought refreshment in positive memories. Still, I could hear the waves crashing at the foot of the cliff and the fire crackling, the wind ruffling my hair. I smiled. The stars were shining. I heard quick little steps running behind me and Deena's slender body sitting beside me. I looked at her and sat down. I stared into those gorgeous eyes, luminous as if enchanted, that sweet face tinged with the reflections of fire, that pure and serene expression.
"Daith, are you going to leave me?" she asked.
"Never!", I replied, taking her in my arms. "I love you! I will never leave you!".
"You didn't say that last time”, she replied sadly.
"I was afraid. Love… scares me. But I'm saying it now!", I whispered and kissed her.
She didn’t indulge me, turning her lips away. "You should have said that earlier. You left me!", she said clutching my wrists tightly. I felt pain.
"No, I… ah!", the pain was unbearable.
"You left me Daith!", she shouted. Her eyes turned black and she looked wild and dangerous. She grabbed me by the neck and lifted me into the air, staring at me with her murderous eyes. I was out of breath. My feet were totally lifted off the ground. I cried.
With a yank she sent me flying and I fell into the darkness of the cliff down to the sea.
"Sir, calm down! Calm down! Nurse! Nurse!".
"No! Help!", I cried in a pool of sweat. Around me the room was dark. It became light in a flash. I froze suddenly and fell silent. The doctor on duty, Johnson's replacement, looked at me shocked, holding me by the wrists to try to freeze me.
"Leave me”, I said to the doctor, "Get the fuck out of here! Get out!"
The annoyed doctor left, closing the door behind him. I wept. That night, hope left me alone with my fears and remorse.
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The sunrise brought a glimmer of light to the room I couldn't wait to leave. I was afraid. Afraid of the upcoming hearing, of facing the curious stares of my comrades and instructors. I was on leave. I could go almost anywhere I wanted. I could either run away to the city or lock myself up in the gym. I didn't know what to do. It was enough for me not to think about anything.
Some time passed and seven o'clock came. Dr. Johnson entered my room without knocking, looking worried and shocked by an early wake-up call. After scrutinizing me, he frowned. "Nightmares?", he asked.
I nodded. "Can I leave?".
"Affirmative. I know you wouldn't take a no for an answer anyway”, he said on his way out. He returned and looked at me, then said: "Your new clothes will be here in a moment”, reminding me that those pyjamas were all I had at that moment.
"Thank you, make it quick”.
"Will you have breakfast in the cafeteria?"
"I don't think so. I'm not hungry”.
"Aren't you ... hungry?", he asked puzzled. "Do you have any real idea how much your body burns to repair itself so quickly! You heard your weight yesterday, didn't you? Do you want to look at you in the mirror? You’re an anchovy! I forbid you to drink coffee, and after you get dressed as part of today's treatment, you will have a hearty and balanced breakfast with me at the infirmary bar. Lucky us, there’s not much to do this morning”.
"No coffee? Are you serious?", I protested. "I've been begging for a cup for months!" "Exciting. And it speeds up the metabolism. Forget it for a week at least”.
"Ah fuck. Kill me. Now”, I grumbled.
"You will serve your time by living and healing your faults!", he replied wryly. "Gods, you are even too young to be so dependent on caffeine!".
I reluctantly accepted each of his dispositions. I knew he wanted to try to talk to me but I really felt my stomach tighten. He was a good doctor and a good person but he could not help me with everything. I got out of bed after half an hour when they brought me my clothes. Once fully dressed like a good cadet, I walked through the door, glad to leave that hellish room behind.
I looked at myself in the mirror that stood in the waiting room. I had worn the cadet uniform for eight years, like a second skin. Now seeing myself in brown raincoat and black clothes seemed strange to me. My hair was longer, grown in bulk that I was struggling to keep in order, and my cheeks were hollowed out. Those dark circles under my eyes were no joke either. "You're right Doc”, I said looking grimly at myself. "I look like hammered shit”.
"Welcome to the adult world”, he ironized, as with a pat on the back he escorted me to the infirmary bar. We called it the infirmary but there was a private lab in the basement floors with a total of three hundred beds, although it could accommodate up to seven hundred inpatients. Cadets wounded in missions, fallen or sick were taken there whenever possible. Lately it was mostly empty except for a couple of sunstrokes and a cancer patient, who fortunately had no shortage of visitors or chances to pull through.
"Listen son, your nightmares tonight...”.
"I don't want to talk about it”, I blocked him by shaking the decaffeinated coffee. "But how the hell do you drink this stuff?".
"Coffee in Europe has changed your taste, huh? I've been to Rome once and I have to say that over there they can make a good one... but I'll never understand the small portions”.
"In Paris it was plentiful and it sucked”.
"Oh, then it's our bar's fault! Well, back to us, I just wanted to say, be patient. They should pass soon. Rather, if they persist and take away your sleep, there are pills...”.
"No more pills! I am not crazy. I'm just tired and... upset. Full of that stuff in my body, like you said... But it will pass”.
"I didn't want to propose anything excessive to you. They would impose on you a kind of, like, dreamless sleep. They would at least let you rest”, he proposed.
"No, thank you. I don't run away, not even from nightmares”, I resolutely refused.
"Fucking Lester”, he grumbled defeatedly, taking a sip of that tasty real coffee.
I bit into the toast with eggs and ham and the miracle happened. Appetite comes with eating and in that situation, it came bringing its friends, relatives and distant cousins as well. I had not eaten something decent in months and was amazed at the taste of a simple cafeteria sandwich.
Johnson laughed. "You weren't hungry huh? Eat, slowly without gorging, but eat. When you're done, take two of these”, he said handing me pills inside a small round box. "It's abstitix. Best on a full stomach. Two more after lunch and come back to me in the morning. If you feel withdrawal symptoms tonight, two more after dinner. You shouldn't need them anyway... Drink plenty of water”.
A voice from a loudspeaker called him. He sighed. "Heh and I knew it, I'm pulling off the net and they're looking for me doing a gig. Gotta go kid, good luck. Just one more thing. A technician from the 5th CW (Cyber Warfare) Regiment is coming tomorrow morning. She will repair your SAI and take some data for the trial. Don't worry, I know she will do a good job. Hey, sir! The guy has fried SAI, put it on my account, it's on me!".
I made to protest but Johnson was already too far away. I waved him off, returning to devour the second piece of toast. Johnson had received, in his own words, the task of watching over me directly from my father. Whoever Cillian was, his dedication was admirable, and I was grateful to both of them for that care. I felt lonely and scared at that moment and realized how fragile I actually was. Deena in her world did not have a Johnson, a Burris, any person who was there to help her. If she got hurt, she would have died on the street; if she got hungry, she would have had to find a way to get food. She was right about me in that respect.
I didn't want to think about her. I couldn't do anything and it was unnerving. After devouring a total of four pieces of toast, half a litre of orange juice and a doughnut, I got up and started out of the infirmary with a bloated belly, burping without dignity.
The Seattle Military Academy is a huge complex of buildings occupying a total area of two hundred acres. There were two spacious dormitories of two thousand beds each, a hotel for officers in transit, barracks for the tonnage troops assigned to guard the perimeter, the firing range or Slaughterhouse, infirmary, school, and sports complex with gymnasiums, baseball, football, tennis, and basketball fields, boxing rings, judo and other martial arts. There were also about one hundred hectares of dense forest and a large practice area. A quiet place when the shotguns were not thundering where I often went for walks.
That day, the building I was most interested in, was the administration, or Generic Headquarters, jokingly called. There were accounting offices, safes, administrative offices, the secretary and Dean's office, the Royal Arch Circle for important receptions, and of course the nicknamed Inquisition Hall, or rather the courtroom where cadets were tried and judged. Mine would certainly have been a short trial. The buildings were square and not particularly complex, white and always stained to give a general air of positive sobriety. I walked past HQ and looked at it doubtfully. I sighed and headed for the dormitory. The flag of Humanity or rather of the Federation of Earthly Domains was at half-mast as a sign of mourning, waving on its pole erected on the base of the stone monument with the acronym AGDGDADU written in full in golden letters under the inscription E Pluribus Unum. 'Perhaps for Hobson's Rock,' I thought. I made the salute with a solemn air as expected at each passage and headed for my dorm. Everyone was at school that day and I found only cleaners in the hallways. I went to my old room and barricaded myself in, finding it unchanged.
It was the same as the other hundreds of rooms in those dorms, small, two uncomfortable beds, two closets, two trunks and a single desk with two chairs, a lamp in the centre of the architect's ones and nothing else. A tall, narrow window with no curtains let in some light and our luxuries ended there. On the walls Matt had hung rally, baseball, and field hockey posters, useful for covering the posters of bikini-clad girls stuck underneath. If they were discovered, we would both be punished. It never happened. The guy somehow always knew where inspections were coming.
I stayed indoors for a short time, changed into sweatpants and grabbed my gym bag. I went to the rings, changed in the locker room, putting on my kimono and gloves and started training. I think I wore out the bag. I went on for at least three hours, like a machine. I didn't think about anything and that was what I wanted. I was jumping, hitting either the bag or the air, doing push-ups, sit-ups, whatever. Lunchtime came, but after the gym I went running through the woods. As the doctor had said, I had so much of that residual serum in my body that I hardly realized the fatigue. When I finally returned tired and also hungry, after a clean- up I mustered up my courage and headed for the cafeteria. I did not want to eat lunch in the cafeteria and put other debts on Johnson's account.
It was my habit to have lunch and dinner alone, or rather, to pick a table and place myself there on my own. Then Matt would have arrived with his clique of nutters, and I would have listened to his absurd conversation. I didn't even speak much when questioned when this happened.
My last name is Lester and that was generally enough for people to fear me. That sinister reputation, partly deserved and partly not, was fine with me after all. I would often get into fights and the instructors would ground me right on my lunch break for weeks at a time. In short, they saw little of me and I showed little when I was there. But that day, the looks were all on me.
I remembered that underwater hole that Deena wanted to dig for herself and found it a very good idea. I took to staring at an unspecified spot a few feet away from me in order to avoid crossing any eyes, went to the counter with my tray, waited for the attendants to throw the ration on it, and went to sit at an empty table as if nothing had happened.
"Ah no, not this time!". A male voice ripped through the silence. Its owner marched towards me at a good pace, followed by his usual lackeys, all dressed in the same, usual uniform. He stopped less than a meter from my chair.
"Do you hear me redneck? You asshole! Get outta here!"
I sighed with my head down. "Okay”, I said. I should have expected this. I set my fork down on the tray, rose slowly from my chair, and laid my gaze on his eyes.
Ryan Dunn, the academy's top brass. He had founded a kind of secret club within the school, a society that brought together, according to his criteria, the best cadets. Everyone who liked to be bossed around by him, in short. From the first moment, from the first glance, from the first day we met, he was hostile and disrespectful towards me. The guy felt an unjustified hate for me, an illogical revulsion. The whole thing seemed to go back to my Irish origins but perhaps, it was just a pretext, considering that I was every bit as generic an American as possible. Six feet tall, lean despite supplements and workouts, he had a reputation as a fierce soldier, ruthless but obedient to orders and perpetually in touch with his commissioned officers. A iena hungry for career and glory, he loved to be feared and very little to be told no.
"I'm just eating by myself. Can we reschedule?", I asked. I didn't want to argue.
"You fucking bastard! Do you have any idea what you have done? You deserted and all the teams upon returning from France were punished for forty days! I was put in irons on bread and water and then at forced labour! To dig up fields with hoes in the sun! Me and all of them!", he shouted full of rage. I stood in silence, continuing to look at him. He definitely had good reason to yell at me that time.
"And you think we're still going to let you eat here with us? Get out!", he ordered me, raising an arm and pointing to the exit behind him.
"I don't care what you went through. I am not responsible for it. I didn't punish you unnecessarily and I didn't miss the return by my own will. So fuck off”, and I sat back in my seat, resuming eating. With a snap, Dunn grabbed the table with both hands, knocking it over in the air. I remained seated with fork in hand with nothing more in front of me. I huffed. It was obvious that I could not back down. I dropped the cutlery on the floor, stood up in front of and staring at him. "You're playing with fire”. I could feel it, deep inside. I felt a warmth, located at stomach level, rising. The muscles in my jaw stiffened as a kind of euphoria went up my spine. I tried to remember Johnson's words, "Don't fight, don't get angry!".
"Your whole lousy family is a disgrace to us! Get out! Now”.
"Okay, I'm leaving”, I said. Before I left, I landed a well-aimed punch on his teeth that knocked him backward. He would have ended up on the ground if his betas hadn't caught him on the fly.
"It’s a shame to waste food”, I said and turned my back and left.
His answer did not take long to reach me. A cadet, while I was walking through the grove, found me and panting, told me plainly that I had been openly challenged and was expected to fight Dunn on the same day. This did not displease me. I still had many hours before the interrogation and decided to follow the ambassador who had contacted me. I therefore found myself again at the entrance of the school, just where the flagpole stood out upward.
One of Dunn's friends was waiting for me.
"Well?", I asked. Meanwhile, the messenger had vanished.
"You choose where, how and when. Dunn has no problem beating your ass in any situation”, he said defiantly.
"The loser?".
"Resignation. He will leave the academy”.
"Yeah, yeah, let's do it in half an hour at the rings inside the gymnasium, free fight without referee”.
"Fine, you have half an hour then. See you soon, bitch”, he said dismissively and left.
"Daith!", a voice shouted from behind the glass doors of the school. Matt ran toward me. "I heard about that asshole's tantrum!".
"He just challenged me. If I lose, I have to leave”, I summed up.
"I can see that this is upsetting to you”, he said puzzled.
"I'm already on the street by now anyway”.
"Don't say that... Burritos is undoubtedly on your side... specially cause I've seen WestPoint officers around... he's sure to want to defend his cadet in front of those lead soldiers”.
"Yeah. Maybe”.
"When will the challenge be?".
"I have about twenty-five minutes. I absolutely have to eat something”.
"If things were different, I would root for you friend”, he looked at me doubtfully. "But are you sure that's the case? You're pretty weakened compared to usual”.
"I still have so much white blood in my veins Matt, I could rip his head off his neck”, I growled. "It would look like a bad ending. Okay, I'll go with you... I'll get you a sandwich from the vending machines”.
He got me to the dorm locker rooms where I got my fighting gear and then from there to the rings where he helped me with hand and ankle wraps. The fight I was about to face had no rules: two challengers could use as many strikes and styles as they wanted, fighting inside or even outside the ring. No use of even improper weapons and no killing blows. Otherwise, one was allowed to break whatever one wanted, without mercy. I wore a sturdy white kimono but did not gird myself with a belt. My feet were bare, except for the bandages that protected my ankles.
An officer was already in the ring along with Dunn. I climbed over the third rope and started jumping around to warm up. My challenger seemed confident and taunted me, inciting me to strike first. The cheering was definitely not on my side. All around the ring was full of cadets cheering Dunn loudly. I spat out of the ring and got into position: I spread my legs so that my thighs were parallel to the ground and my feet parallel to each other. I brought my right hand to my right hip closed into a fist and my left hand hanging slightly open about a foot from my nose. I stared into Dunn's eyes, and from the moment the officer blew the go whistle the world went totally blank for me. It was just me and Dunn.
He wasted no time and immediately threw himself at me with an axe kick. Given my low position, he rightly hoped to surprise me from above. I threw myself with all my weight to the left and dodged the blow, which went into the ring. I rolled and quickly got to my feet. I unleashed a left kick that quickly hit him on the left thigh. He didn't take much damage and quickly managed to close his guard again, blocking a direct punch of mine to the face. He was off to a good start. He began to bombard me with very fast punches that rarely went past my forearms and into my chest, yet he managed to catch me by surprise with a sudden low kick that went into my left knee. The pain was excruciating. I let my guard down, and he did not let the opportunity pass. He landed two punches to my ribs, one to my sternum and knocked me to the ground with an uppercut to my chin. Fortunately, he did not hit my throat. I fell supine and the referee stopped Dunn, who wanted to rage. His desire of getting the referee at all costs had saved me. Groggy I crawled to my corner, with Dunn screaming in exhilaration. I used the ropes to rise to my feet and settled back into my usual attack posture. Then, I changed my mind. I was tired of defending myself. I threw myself at Dunn in fury and anger, attempting to open his guard with a series of smashing kicks. On the fourth blow I managed to reach his chest. I then struck him with the palm of my hand, and with all the strength I had left I took a right kick to his side. The reaction was not long in coming: he unleashed a kick with his left leg directed at my armpit, which, however, to his surprise I managed to block with my left elbow. I was holding his leg and thus victory, although he punched me in the cheekbones, I continued to stare at him fiercely.
It was over for him: I could barely contain my anger, my excitement. I had to finish that fight right away or the bloodlust would make me lose control. With my right elbow I struck his knee three times, then with my right leg I took to hammering him on his right thigh near the groin, turned his captive leg by rotating on myself to the left, and exploiting my right knee as an anvil, I broke it. A sickening crunch came out followed by a shriek of tremendous pain. I reluctantly left his leg; inside me burned the desire to inflict more harm on the poor bastard.
The fight was over. I had won but I was furious and wanted to kill him. Dunn screamed in despair when an uninvited referee tried to hold him down. I shook my head, blowing to calm myself, and got out of the ring. No one was paying attention to me, everyone was in terror and staring cacklingly at each other as Dunn squirmed. Everyone except Matt.
"Gods", he said impressed. "Wasn’t too far?".
"He had it coming”, I replied indifferently. He was right but it could have ended much worse for him.
"Dunn may be a son of a bitch, but you went too far. I've never seen you acting like that before”.
At the beginning I hesitated, then answered by sinking my index finger on him, pushing him back. "What would you have done?".
"Me? Well, for sure... for sure... I don't know. But I wouldn't have had the courage to do such a horrible thing”, he said massaging his chest where I had touched him.
"It's not about courage”, I replied, "I'm just… angry”. I screamed and hit a random locker with my fist, bending its door and startling Matt with the bang.
"You did very well”, Sophia suddenly interjected, who behind my back and unbeknownst to me was listening. "He treats everyone like garbage. Now he has realized that there is always someone stronger in the world”.
I calmed down and watched her smiling at me. "That asshole punched back hard. It really hurts a lot. Is my eye bleeding?".
She nodded. "A little bit. I won't even ask if you want help, cause I already know you wouldn't accept it. Maybe it's time for another trip to the infirmary”. Sophia smiled, brushing the cut under my right eye with her index finger, making me feel like a small electric shock.
"You’re wrong. I think I would accept it this time. I just don't feel like going back there today... Doc might opt for euthanasia if he sees me again so soon", I joked.
Sophia looked at me puzzled, while Matt could not hold back a strange smirk. I had never accepted help of that kind before. The situation was almost funny: I had displaced them both.
"I... am going to HQ to see what the air is like”, said Matt who couldn't wait to get away. He waved goodbye and walked off.
"I have band-aids and disinfectant in the room, and also ointment for bruises. If... you really... want a hand”, she listed.
"Yes, I will. I'll change, wait for me in my room. Bring some ice, even dry ice if you can”.
She nodded and walked excitedly away. I smiled in amusement. I no longer felt like being alone for that day. This had never weighed on me before but from that moment I began to feel a new need.
I quickly changed and washed myself. I was all ache, especially in my sternum and ribs. My jaw creaked every time I moved it. With my duffle bag with the change, I first headed to the men's dormitory laundry room where I left my kimono, then went up to my room. I opened the door and found Sophia sitting on Matt's bed intent on staring into void. As soon as I entered, she jerked caught by surprise. "Hello”, she exhaled after the scare.
"Hi. Do you have ice?".
"Yeah”.
"Good”, I said as I lay down on my bed. I was shattered. I held out my left hand and asked for ice. A clear plastic wrap filled with an icy blue jelly seemed as precious as a million-credit diamond. I relieved the pain in my face but my sternum still hurt like hell.
"How are you doing? Better?".
"Quite”.
"You touch your chest all the time. Does it hurt?".
"Do you have the stuff against bruises?".
"Yep”, she replied and handed me a half-used aluminium tube. I attempted to undress with one hand while holding the ice on my face with the other.
"Wait, I'll help you”. She gently removed my black T-shirt and laid it on Matt's bed, sitting on my mattress with band-aids in her hand and remaining motionless.
"What?", I asked uneasily from that wait.
"I know them all”, she said looking at my scars and pointing at them one by one with her little finger. "This one is from the scuffle with Ryan the first year, these ones that look like a constellation are from the bang because of Bob, this one and this one you have because you flew off that hovercraft at Thunderstorm drill, this cut is from the fight with the Romanians, this one is from the night we know, and these two are... my fault”.
"Don’t say that”, I recalled, "I'm the one who gets into trouble every time”.
"That time, however, you did it for me”, she reiterated.
"Don't think about it. I have fun like this, you know”.
"I know”, she sighed. "These, on the other hand, are new. So is this one! Another one? Hey! What did you do while you were away?".
"Hm”, I muttered. "I found someone better than you at getting into trouble”.
"No kidding. You went to a lot of trouble for this someone and quite a bit, I'd say”, she concluded, examining my new collection of scars. "There are red patches on your skin. Is that where he hit you?".
"Yeah. I’m fine”.
"I'll rub cream on them, you liar”, she said thoughtfully. I didn't beg. She began to gently spread the ointment on the bruises. Her touch was firm, the pain hit me every time she touched me. "You've lost a lot of weight”, she noted. "But you've also got a nice tan”.
"Lots of sunshine and little food between shootings”, I replied with my eyes closed, remembering as if it were yesterday the blue sea and green mountains covered in clouds.
"That would sound like your ideal vacation!" she joked, snatching a smile from me. I opened my eyes and watched her wiping her fingers with a handkerchief. She then cleaned the cut under my eye with disinfectant and put a band-aid over the wound.
"Done”, she announced contentedly.
"Thank you”, I answered her as neutrally as possible. For a moment I felt strangely at ease.
A silence fell in the room that was full of naturalness.
"You have changed, D”, she said, looking at me with a mixture of approval and fear.
"You think so?".
"Yeah. Your face is kinder but you are also sad. Usually, you are exuberant and angry or grumpy and standoffish. Now you have a sweet and vaguely worried expression".
"I have been a bastard with you many times. I hope you will be able to forgive me someday”.
"I've never been mad at you. I just can’t”, she said with a hint of bitterness. "Well. Maybe I am a little bit mad right now, and it's not even your fault”.
I did not respond. I was numb with ice and exhaustion. There was another pause that I perceived differently, like the quiet this time before the storm.
"What is she like?", she asked directly.
"She who?", I replied, playing dumb.
"This Deena. What is she like?", she insisted, getting straight to the point. That name awakened my senses suddenly, I certainly changed my expression, and she did not let it slip away.
"How do you know about her? Did Matt tell you something?", I asked ready to slap him. "No. You told me about her. You kept repeating that name while you were sleeping in the infirmary”.
Hoping that no one besides Johnson had heard me whimper Deena's name in my sleep was just too much to ask of the universe.
"I met her in France. Unlike you, she has no difficulty getting mad at me”, I told her, smiling at the memory. "She is the reason behind this huge mess”.
"Is she pretty?".
"What does this have to do with it now?".
"Answer”.
"Yes”.
"More than me?", she asked, spurting determination and jealousy from every pore. I found myself displaced. Fortunately, she retraced his steps and apologized for the question. "And what place does she have in all this? In your disappearance and the rest, I mean”.
"I just wanted to arrest her to scrape together a few extra points, and things took a completely unexpected turn. In the end she even tried to kill me. She was the one who reduced me in pieces. Would you believe it?"
"What?", she exclaimed puzzled.
"It's hard to believe, of course”.
"A French woman of two meters and one hundred kilograms in short. Do you have such strange tastes?".
"Ah. No. One and seventy for about fifty kilograms. Poor thing, she was already thin, in that place she became almost a skeleton. Yes, I know the fist of someone like that is a caress. It should be. That girl is not ordinary. She has strange powers, almost... aliens”.
Sophia burst out laughing.
"What's funny?"
"Well, that comforts me! Only an alien was able to make you fall in love, D. That fixes my self-esteem a little”.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
