Heartless
It must have been the gunshots that caught my attention. Although it was a common occurrence around this side of town, it still put me on alert.
Normally I chose not to get involved in this kind of thing because I could care less about humans. However, I knew this one.
He moved cautiously from the cover of his screened in porch, exposing himself. Grass crumpled beneath his stride. He paused, with his gun eye level to his arm as he kept aim. His two assailants hid behind an old chevy, their weapons held firm as they contemplated their next move. No, I reminded myself, thugs like that didn’t contemplate. They simply acted on impulse. In which case, I was curious to see the outcome.
Still, I watched him, the way his eyes flickered back and forth captivated me. His name, and his motivations, were unknown to me but the memory of his desperate actions to help me were unforgettable. And for a human to help someone like me was a pretty big deal. In fact, it was a first.
And in doing so, he had saved my life.
I heard the next round of firing as my trance dissipated. Blood splattered on the cold December concrete and he fell to the ground. My savior- was there, dying. I knew I could intervene, save his life as he saved mine, but it wasn’t my way. Was it? Perhaps it had been a long while ago. But I was different now. Colder. Heartless. That’s what they called me. The whispers, behind my back. Were they right? And if they were, could I prove them wrong? My head was a terminal, constant questions flooding my mind as my eyes continued to dart back and forth.
I had to make that choice. The older figure stepped away from his cover behind the car, and surge of adrenaline hit me like an avalanche. The younger boy watched as his subordinate crossed the sidewalk, into the yard.
He aimed the gun down at my fallen hero’s head.
I expected it. The gunshot would ring out across this urban-wasteland. More blood, no different than any other, would spatter like broken glass. The reverberation: devastating.
But there was only silence.
Something happened there. Something stopped it. Two worlds had collided at an imminent speed and I was lost in the abyss. But only for a moment.
The assailant fell over, dead and his comrade ran away into the alleyway where I had just- My mind went blank as I stared into the alleyway, unable to think of anything but a statement: I had just been standing there.
Finally it all began to register. I looked down at the blood on my clothes in horror. I killed him. But only as a mark of retribution, I saved the life of the man who saved mine one day so long ago. I had killed before, sure, but why did it bother me now?
I extended a hand to him, which was also entirely bloody. But still, he took it without hesitation and I pulled him up to my level.
His white shirt and faded brown-jeans were stained crimson, just as I was. But I knowingly feared that the blood smeared on his body was his own, and not that of his attacker’s corpse.
The boy stumbled forward and into my arms. I held him without a word. Though he spoke first, “I have a medical bag in my house.”
His voice was so shaken. It struck a chord in me, a cold reminder of the day he defended me so valiantly. He had been so strong then, but now he was bloody, and trembling like nothing I’d ever seen. His blue eyes looked up at me with relief.
We had barely managed to get through his porch when a battered patrol car rounded the block. They came through, only stopping to throw the boy’s carcass into the back.
I shook my head and turned away. There was no respect for the dead anymore.
I eased him onto his couch. It was plaid, and sank in when he sat on it, with several noticeable stains of all kinds. Still, this was his home and he didn’t seem to reject what little he was blessed with.
I remember thinking- Is this really the home of a doctor? And in truth, this was all a doctor could afford anymore. The changes in society were truly pathetic.
“Please,” His voice came out raspy and cold, “Tell me your name.”
“Heartless.” I sighed, giving him the only answer I knew.
“I didn’t ask for the name they gave you.” He was fairly vague, but I knew enough that by they he meant the other city inhabitants. The humans who scorned me with their hateful words or silent, ice-like stares, “Tell me your real name.”
“River Sinclair.” I replied, without satisfaction, “My mom named me just before she passed into the next world.”
I was a little curious to see his expression so I looked into his eyes thoughtfully.
He smiled, which must have been difficult with the one gunshot wound in his side, “I’d like to think there is a hidden meaning behind those eyes, and there should be with all of the pain they carry.” It appeared that he was analyzing me instead, “Because your eyes are truly stunning. They’re blue, like a River that runs deep and is unstoppable in its own right.”
“Poetic. What’s your name?” I pressed too hard on his chest and he winced lightly, “Sorry.”
“It’s Aden Tamus.” He introduced himself, “I know it’s kind of plain.”
“The name? Yes.” I agreed, “But you, however, you are something truly unheard of anymore.”
“Something truly unheard of? And what is that?” He questioned, preparing to answer his own question, “An honest doctor?”
“Nah” I shrugged, “A good heart.”
My eyes met his again and he got a little bit red I think.
“How can you be sure in a place like this, so close to hell?” Aden asked.
“Because you know what I am, and you do not chastise me for it.”
I finally found the wound. It was a bullet hole, just the size of a dime, but still plenty big to cause fatal damage to his internal organs. I patched it up the best I could but the bleeding just wouldn’t cease. I opened the side pouch on his medical bag and dug around until I found some pain medication and a coagulant.
He was losing consciousness right there in front of me, and I feared if I didn’t do something quickly I was going to lose him without even a fight. Something compelled me to do everything I could; it was the same sensation that made me stop him from being killed in the first place. I didn’t like this feeling inside of me. It was making me do crazy things for reasons I did not know.
When I looked up and saw another mass of blood I was reminded that pondering was getting me nowhere fast, and my chest hurt, as though I had been shot too.
I darted up from my place at his side and went into the kitchen, getting him some water and a clean, damp cloth.
He was growing weaker now so I fitted the pills into his mouth and gave him water, helping him swallow them. What was going to happen if I couldn’t save him? He had already lost so much blood. It was on his clothes and on towels and wash cloths. It haunted me.
“Aden, what is your blood type?” I asked hastily.
“B negative.” He sighed, letting the heavy dosage of pain killers set in, “Why?”
“Because my blood type is O negative.” I explained, “Which means I can give you a blood transfusion, can’t I?”
“Yes, O negative is the only other blood type I can receive besides my own.” He smiled, “But are you sure you want to-” I was already rummaging through his bag again for the correct supplies. He ended up passing out just moments before I found the proper pumps and valves.
First I checked his pulse, which was slow and weak, then hurriedly hooked up the equipment. Without even a thought I stabbed the needle into my arm.
It stung and I wanted to scream out in pain but I didn’t care. Though I did curse, then gently slid the other end of the line into the vein of his left arm. I taped the IV in and waited.
“I’m sure zero out of five doctors recommend a direct transfusion...” I sighed. But it didn’t matter now, as the fleshy color was coming back to his face. With my free hand I kept pressure on his wound.
When I started to feel faint I removed the needle from my arm, bandaging it up quickly. Then I did the same for him, but with much more consideration of course. I checked his pulse again, and it seemed better, but I had no way of being certain.
It was getting late now, with the golden hue of the evening sun radiating in from between the spaces in the blinds. Everything around me was oddly striped in shadows and afterday glow.
I went into his kitchen and found a box of tea in the cabinet with only two bags left to tell me he liked it. It had an odd foreign label that I couldn’t read, but the words “Home Herbal” were in small print below the Asian characters.
With boiling water and sugar I stirred together a mixture of hot tea. It was orange in color, almost identical to the sunlight that filtered in through the room. Its aroma wafted into my nostrils while I walked across the room to the couch.
“Aden?” I put a hand firmly on his shoulder and his eyelids fluttered lightly. He stared up at me for moment before I handed him the cup of tea.
“Thank you, River.” He took it kindly and drank it to the very last drop.
“Do you feel any better?” I asked, taking the empty cup from his trembling hand. He nodded lightly, looking up at me. I knelt down beside him, making us even at eye level, “You need to rest.”
“If I can get to my bedroom.” He strained to move but I put my hands on him, shaking my head. Aden paused, looking at me in confusion. My arms wrapped around his back and beneath his legs as I gently lifted him up and into the air.
He gasped, “You’re… strong.” I suppressed my grin.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” I asked, carrying him towards a mostly-closed door. When I pushed it open with my hip I noticed its paint was peeling off, and probably had been for some time.
I was in his room, mere feet from his bed. This was an unfamiliar place…
I helped him remove his bloody garments before I pulled back the sheets. That was when I noticed he had a tattoo of a butterfly on the back of his left shoulder. Still, I pulled the sheets over him carefully.
In anguish, I froze. This was familiar to me. From the night I last saw my daughter, Miranda. She was seven when she and my wife were taken from our home. I had tucked her in that night, just this way.
Both of them were gunned down at a public demonstration the very next day, as a means to strike fear into the hearts of the civilians. And it worked. From the start of the revolution people had left by the masses. Some made it out. Some died trying.
Not long after that the rallies began. People who stayed had high hopes of overturning the balance of power back into the hands of the people, rather than the government. They were killed too.
All of this was rooted back to the city government. It was their project that started this mess and it threw everything out of focus.
The government was experimenting with different types of bio-weaponry, probably as a military advantage or whatever else. The thing is, I had never figured out why someone would want a loaded shotgun with a mind of its own. Maybe they didn’t understand either. Because they sure as hell hadn’t counted on this.
That’s where my father came in. He was a well decorated marine and their weapon of choice. They took him from my mother before I was born, but he escaped and came back to her. She had gotten into plenty of drugs in his absence, but he loved her regardless. Still, it was the government he was dealing with. And everyone knows they have scary methods of getting their way.
Four years later they caught up with him and killed him. I guess they didn’t realize that his altered genetics would be passed down to his son. So they let me live, and the governmental control lessened, which in turn, brought an end to the civilian rebellions.
But the end of the revolution didn’t actually fix things for us. The rally members that managed to survive grew powerful after the end of government rule and became the most feared gang in the city. They also happen to be the ones with the dire objective of killing me.
And still, no one can enter or leave here. We are quarantined, of sorts. And I remember how it drove my mother crazy, more literally than I would like to admit at times. Now, even though it is all their fault, the government and their pawns, I am blamed for the situation at hand.
I guess after losing him, and my mother and my wife and most of all, Miranda, it’s only natural that they call me Heartless.
“River, are you okay?” Aden’s voice was like a shot to my skull. I awakened from the darkness inside and nodded, hoping he wouldn’t ask questions.
“Get some sleep.” I told him, “You know the first night after something like this is the most crucial.”
He closed his eyes and I headed for the main room, returning his bedroom door to its “mostly-closed” position on my way out.
I cleaned up a little, putting the bloody towels in the bathtub to let them soak. I poured some bleach into the tub as well, hoping I would get them clean.
It wasn’t too long after that when I stretched out on the couch and fell asleep. The dream I had was of the day Aden saved me. It was in his medical center on the corner of east and west, where I stumbled in with a gunshot wound similar to his.
All of his other patients, wounded from gang raids and assault, were eager to watch me curl up and die. But Aden wouldn’t allow that. He patched me up and even gave me extra supplies of the best medicines in secret, just in case something like that happened again. I knew well of the shortages of everything from food to medical supplies especially, but I wasn’t about to turn down a chance to live rather than die. So I took what he offered and disappeared.
A loud noise woke me up. The left window was being broken in and I knew immediately that it was the gang. They must have watched me come here and had waited until nightfall to strike.
I reached for my gun but it was gone. Now I had no other choice but to use my powers. Extending my hands out in front of me, I let go. A strange buzzing sound erupted from my palms, it flooded every inch of space and caused the death of at least six gang cohorts.
The noise stopped and I relaxed. I knew that everyone in this city would be here within the hour to watch the gang tear my head off. That noise was unmistakable, they would know it was me and there was just a matter of time before they found me.
I ran into Aden’s room, seeing that the sound had jarred him from sleep.
“I’m sorry but we are in danger here.” I alerted him, and it was true. If they couldn’t find me they would gladly kill him.
“The gang?” He muttered, pulling himself into consciousness.
“Yes” I nodded hastily, “Pull on the warmest clothes you have. We’re getting out of here, tonight.”
“Alright.” He consented and I went to look for my gun. I was frantic and finally found it on the kitchen counter, probably from when I made his tea. It fit perfectly just inside my belt.
A moment later Aden met me in the living room. I opened the door hesitantly and peered out before we made a run for it. I took his hand and led him blindly through the harsh December snow. We couldn’t stop, not for an instant.
Even when he lost his breath we continued to run. I hated this. Dying would be easier, and I wondered if it would solve the problems this city was notorious for. But still, we ran. The snow thickened into a haze and I felt fear dominating my mind.
We were just a few blocks from the closed city gates when I saw a pack of gang members snooping around. Aden fell into my arms, breathing hard as I pulled us into the shadows.
“We must remain hidden.” I whispered, “And as soon as it’s clear, I promise, I will find a place for you to rest.”
He burrowed into my chest, feeling the cold set in.
As soon as the assailants had passed I helped him up a stairwell at the back of a building, leading onto the roof. We perched up there, huddled tightly as I watched the movement around the gates.
It was crawling with the gang and I feared we wouldn’t make it out.
That was the moment I realized that I was no longer thinking of myself. Aden’s wound was bleeding again from all of the pressure and I held him close, praying for salvation. I looked into the sky and wondered if the God I was praying to was as eager to watch me die as everyone else.
If I made it out alive, would I ever lead a normal life again? I couldn’t worry about that now with Aden in my arms. I was scared and I hugged him desperately, crying quietly for the first time in as long as I could remember.
“I forgot how beautiful the snow was this time of year.” He whispered. I looked out, past the city and its walls of contempt. In the distance was another place, maybe happier and right. But that didn’t matter. Because here, in my arms, was a something I had lost years ago. Something I never dreamed of finding again. But finding it in another man… I couldn’t really admit it, even to myself.
The snowflakes fell all around us, gathering in the spaces between shingles and stairways. They really were beautiful and for just a moment, I was happy being here with him. I realized again, time was short for us. I had to admit it. If I died without saying… I couldn’t bear the thought, even more than I couldn’t bear to think of what he would say when I told him the truth.
“Aden, there is something I must say.” I sighed, “It is welling up inside of me... And, I can’t-”
“Say it, River. No matter what it is.” He laughed, interrupting me, “It’s less than twenty-degrees out here and we’re making a suicide attempt any second now.”
I looked into his coppery eyes, “I love you.” His gaze widened, “I know we’re both men and it’s crazy but-”
I felt something warm on my lips. His mouth pressed into me and I kissed him back. I had fallen for him, with less than that of any other love story.
When he pulled away he smiled.
“I love you too, River.”
I knew we were going to die.
“I don’t want them to kill me.” I sighed, “Not at the very moment that I found happiness.”
“We have my medical bag.” Aden reminded me.
“Yes, but that won’t do us any good down there.” I shook my head, “Why is it that I always assumed I would die peacefully in my sleep like a normal person?”
“River, I have enough medication in here to kill an elephant.” He said, almost crying.
I didn’t understand. But the look he bore said it all, “Are you saying we should-?”
“I’m saying it’s an option.” He meant suicide.
“You would die with me?” I asked him.
“My answer, to the man I have only known for less than a day: Why the hell not?” He cried, “River, you’re the only person I’ve grown close to in years. So if you decide to take your leave from this world don’t expect me to stay.”
“Romeo and Juliet…” I sighed.
He went to open his medical bag.
I continued, “Were the only two lovers who could be breathtaking and irrational all at once.” Aden turned to me suddenly.
“What?” He asked, seemingly stunned.
“If you feel the same as I do,” I began, “Then I am not about to give up without a fight.”
“River.” He smiled at my name, and I knowingly blushed back.
“It’s just… I haven’t given up through all these years of hatred.” I explained, “So why should I give up now that I have found something to live for?”
We had one chance, and only one. I ran towards the gate with Aden waiting behind in the shadows. I hated to leave him there, but I couldn’t risk him getting caught up in the heavy fire while I cleared a path.
My palms came up again and several guards fell over dead. But that wasn’t my intention, I released all of my frustration and yelled out. A crack shivered up the stone gates that had stood tall for so long. The bullets scarred past my face and body. Some of them grazed me and a couple hit but I refused to back down. The gates toppled over, revealing an exit from our desolate world.
People began to gather, hearing the loud crashes from afar and Aden ran to me just as the final gunshot went off. Fear struck me when I realized that I was unscathed, and Aden looked up at me with wide eyes.
There was silence even as the crowd amassed the shooter and took him under. Other gang members faded from sight, never to return. A young girl had been hit by the bullet meant for me.
I ran to her side with Aden just behind me. He took out his bag and treated her on the spot. Luckily it was just her arm, which would heal in a matter of time. The doctor finished wrapping her wound as the crowd looked on without even a whisper.
I swear she looked just like Miranda, and as she ran back through the crowd I saw what appeared to be someone I knew. My wife was there, holding her tight. She smiled at me, and for a moment I thought I may be dead too. But she and Miranda disappeared into the night, without me and I never saw them again. Even in death she was looking after me. Miranda as well. I cried for them then. I cried for a new life. And I cried for Aden, who came to my side, taking my arm and leading me away from the scene.
Years passed.
We ended up in a small northern town in the countryside. Where it snows most of the year there, and feels a little like home. We’re still together, but now I call him my husband. We made plenty of friends and settled in just fine. Over the course of the past few years my powers dissipated and faded away, as if they never existed in the first place.
We don’t talk about the days before our new home, except for the day we first met, as one could expect. Our memories are fragile, yet so hard to destroy. And with this new life ahead of us I can’t even imagine what each day holds when I wake up next to him.
Being Aden’s husband is the most normal thing I’ve been known for since my birth. And in truth it only proves one thing- My name is not, nor ever was, Heartless.
