The Battle

Chapter 1-2

“I would have if I knew how to use it,” I said and stood to wipe myself off.

He stepped back and pumped the handle underneath, shooting the other creature once in the head and another time in the abdomen. I looked up at him in shock. “We leave no witnesses, Connor. No one can know that you're here,” he said, then tossed the gun in the bushes. “Let's go.” I was not innocent to harming another life but he seemed so cold, so detached from what he'd just done.

Back down the hallway, we hurried and stepped over lizard eyes and his goon. Both of them lay unmoving, their necks twisted unnaturally. Their lifeless body positioning was disturbing. I faced away, thinking, did we have a choice?

We reached the end of the corridor and took a quick right. By a metal fence, we squatted low as Ronin pressed buttons on what appeared to be a very advanced watch. But not two seconds later, a bright light shone above. I covered my face from the whirlwind it caused but was more in awe of the fact that a car hovered over us.

Upon descent, it cut off its lights and just hovered. We ran over and Ronin lifted me up by my waist, pitched me inside, then jumped in behind me.

I peered back at him, annoyed at having been tossed in like that. “My bad, but we don't have time for it to touch down or wait for the hover lift.”

After cutting him a curt glance, I got on my knees and gazed out the tinted window. I forgot all about him during our ascension and was utterly amazed that I actually found myself in a flying car.

“Take a seat. The ride can get bumpy,” Ronin said as I sat across from him. I kept looking between him and the window. Something about him was off, but when blood seeped through his shirt, I knelt in front of him.

“You're hurt.”

He covered his shirt up with his jacket and glanced over at me. I forced his hand and jacket away and lifted his shirt. He was sliced on his right side, through his rib cage. Lowering his shirt back down, he grunted. “No wonder.”

“No wonder?” I repeated. “What does that mean?”

He ignored my question and pointed under the seat. “Grab a red aid kit and take out the foam. It will help with cutting down on the blood loss.”

“What?” I said, feeling under the seat and grabbing the box. I opened it up but saw nothing that could possibly make a foamy substance. He obviously saw my puzzled face when he pointed to a flat silver round canister. When he bent the thing, it made a popping sound and grew in size.

“Twist it open and apply the material on the wound.” He sounded so unruffled compared to my ever-growing panic. He did not appear well at all. His skin had already gone pale and felt clammy to the touch, all just from a knife wound. I applied the pink and white foam as instructed onto his cut. It adhered to his skin, sealing the wound.

Once fully covered, he grabbed for a cloth but I slapped his hand away. He looked at me in surprise. “I've got it. Just sit still,” I ordered. I applied the cloth and kept my hand there for pressure.

“More pressure.” He pushed my hand down and shifted in his seat. He was in pain. “Normally, the foam would be enough, but for this this kind of wound I'll need you to keep steady pressure until we get to where we're going.” It sounded as if he was becoming short of breath so he laid his head back on the seat.

“Yeah, where exactly is that?” I wanted to know, tired of being left in the dark.

“My place.”

I turned back to his wound, feeling some sort of relief knowing where we were going, even though he could be lying and this might be a trap. We could be on our way to turning me over to his father. I shook off the negative thoughts and refused to let worry creep into my thoughts. It was too late, anyway. I would just fight as I always did if it came to that.

“It looks more like a knife wound than a Taser wound. Not that I'm an expert but I've seen enough knife wounds lately to know what one looks like.” Ronin did not respond but just rested his head back on the seat and it seemed as if he was going to pass out. “You don't look so good. How deep did they cut you?” I asked.

“It's not the depth of the wound that I'm concerned with but the poison encased tip left inside me. It's done on purpose… it slowly releases a toxin.” He gripped the seat as I applied more pressure to stop the trickle of blood.

“What kind of poison, Ronin?”

“The kind you don't ever want in your system. If it stays in too long, then I will die. You're going to need to remove the tip of the blade from inside me.”

“Me? I'm no doctor.”

“You are today.” He grunted.

“Don't you have a doctor on staff for emergencies?”

“Yes, but Monlow may have gotten to him. We don't know who to trust; that is why we trust no one.” He gripped my arm and sat up. “You understand? No one but us and the ones we know for sure who want to get rid of Monlow. Okay?”

“Yes…yes, okay. Now sit. Lean back.” I removed his hand as he fell back further onto the seat.

“I'm going to close my eyes for a minute. The car will take us home. Wake me when we get there. That was the last thing he said before passing out.

All I could think of was, how did we get this far? And, Ronin might not even survive. If something were to happen to him, as hard as that pill was to swallow, how would I get home? Screw that; if this all went up in flames, I would find a way home and we'd just do things the San way.

I observed his chest rise and fall more frequently as if he was not getting a full breath. Beads of sweat encased his head and his color turned sickly. Every so often, he would adjust in his seat but I held the pressure.

As soon as the car touched down, Ronin instinctively woke, jolting up and wincing as he did. He lifted his shirt and the wound area was both black and bloody. He lowered the material down and held onto the foamy mess.

He pressed a button on the car and the door lifted up to a forest. It was pitch black outside; not even the car lights shined. It was more of a purple-reddish color that greeted us as we eased out of the vehicle. Ronin tried to walk by himself but I grabbed onto him and, at first, he seemed uncertain of my help, then gave in when I didn't let go. Letting others help—a concept I'm sure he wasn't too familiar with.

We passed numerous enormous trees, the largest I'd ever seen. They seemed to reach the stars. Even in the dark of night, their pink and red colors shone brightly. Little winged creatures fluttered above and they seemed to escort us, guiding the way to his home. But I'm sure they were just following, curious about us.

Eventually, the ground angled downward, which proved a little difficult for Ronin to manage, and although he did it without a grunt, his face betrayed him. Once we made it to level ground again, he gripped the closest tree and stopped to rest.

He did not say anything when I asked, “Are you all right?” Stupid question because I knew he was not. I just didn't know what else to say. He faced the ground and nodded.

Eventually, he looked up and searched around. I did the same and took note of the size of his home. Being too focused on getting to safety, I hadn't paid attention to it, but the sight of it now left me speechless. His place was massive and in all rights, it was truly a palace. There were people outside, uniformed guards with weapons actually, and I wondered if they had been placed there to protect Ronin or keep him in.

Ronin mumbled, “This way,” bringing me out of my state of wonder, and nodded to the left. This time, he reached out for me to assist without hesitation. He was obviously feeling worse.

About fifty feet to our left, he knelt down and held onto his wounded side, then gripped shrubbery and removed it from the ground, revealing what I could only assume was an entryway that led to a secret chamber. I was right. There sat a metal door with two round handles.

“I had it made a long time ago when I first moved here in case of imminent threat, but now it's proven a necessary evil. Very few people know of its existence.” His brows scrunched as if to warn me not to tell anyone about it.

Ronin grabbed hold of one handle but I bent down quickly to retract his hand. He threw me an odd look as I pulled open the heavy doors without lifting a finger. He nodded a thank you and we crept inward down the dusty, cemented stairs, which led into dimness. A faint yellow light glowed ahead, imbedded within the stone walls, but it provided very little help. We both stopped at the bottom of the stairs and I listened out but heard no one nearby. I shook my head, telling him so, and onward we walked. I shut the door, encasing us in a sort of tomb-like environment.

From his pocket, Ronin pulled out something round and tossed it in the air. It lit up and stayed no more than five feet in front of us. “It's a boun…umm, a levitating light,” he explained before I asked.

He guided our direction as I helped with our steps. It was a coexisting relationship at this point. Neither would make it far without the other. The place was a damp, dimly lit maze but at least the boun helped when it came to needing to see where we were going. We came to three forks and even Ronin second guessed himself at this juncture. The toxin was messing with his mind. He kept wiping the sweat from his forehead and trying to control his breathing but he was suffering. We trekked down a few more halls until Ronin fell against the stone wall and gasped in order to catch his breath. The poison was winning.

I waited for him to catch his breath and, when he shut his lids, I shook him. “Ronin!” His lids jolted open, startled. Without a word, he pushed off the wall and once again, we helped each other. We'd been down here so long, I wondered if we'd ever get out.

“Are we lost?” I asked while helping him against the cool stone again. “Ronin, you have to focus. I need you to stay with me.” I shook the crap out of him. “I would levitate you but you'd probably pass out and I need your mind to keep working.”

He bent over to take a few long breaths, then straightened up and braced himself against the wall. “This way.” He pointed to the left.

We headed forward and up a ramp to a metal door that eased open to a small, quaint, red velvet sitting room, with cushions on a long lounge chair. The door proved to be the back side of a bookshelf—how fitting. I quietly shut it and we headed out of a tall wooden door leading to a spacious hallway. In the middle, stood a huge opening where you could peer over to see downstairs.