"KILL - KILL - KILL!" Chants Kade, repeatedly slamming his right foot into Lucindy's hand.
It pops, crackles and fizzes as the complex, technological innards are destroyed via Kade's sneaker clad foot.
When it sighs its final hiss, Kade picks the limp arm up, with its now disfigured hand hanging in a tangle of strobes and wires. He holds it aloft and shouts - "I've slain one of the stars of the show - onwards!"
A young couple walking by look at us both, unsure whether we're mad or just goofing. Kade reacts with a wide smile, "And soon, my beautiful girlfriend and I will retire to our suite, where we will make sweet love for the remainder of our day. May I suggest you do the same," he says, with a mock, upper class English accent. They smile politely and rush on by - clearly weirded out by Kade.
I'm amused, but sensible, "Kade, pull back, be discrete. We can't afford to draw anymore attention to ourselves, we need to blend in rather than stand out," I say.
Kade echo's my thoughts, "I hear you Tan. BUT - we gotta rid this town of the infestation that's in its midst." He looks across the road at the hospital, "Your parent's are due to meet at that place as soon as they arrive, it could be a trap." He grabs his cell, punches it with his thumb, "SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. Let them walk into it, if they don't have the sense to contact us before they leave, then so be it."
"Hey, that's my folks your talking about; have respect," I say, slightly pissed by his sudden insensitivity.
Kade is unapologetic, "Our priority is us, Tan." He puts his arm around my waist and pulls me into him, "We're a family of two, and we take care of our immediate family first and foremost," he says, with a softer tone. I'm happy to hear the return of his warmer side. I'd hate for Kade to turn all cold and callous; they're not qualities of the guy I fell in love with.
"Baby Belinda will make us a family of three," I say, appreciating Kade's outlook. But, I so want us all to be together again, as one big extended family.
He kisses my forehead, "That would be the icing on our cake," he looks at his cell-phone again, "but let's be realistic," he says, looking at the hotel, then over at the hospital. He's clearly fixating on what really lurks in both these buildings.
Spotting an empty bench just off the roadside, I take his hand, "Let's just sit here and watch the real world go by, Kade. I want just a few minutes of normal," I say, resting my head on his shoulder.
......
We have about ten minutes of blissful normalcy before Kade breaks it with, "I've got a strong feeling we'll be meeting Trelly very soon, they're probably being sewn together right now."
I don't rise to his pessimism, instead I ask, "Kade, what's wrong? You're jumping from hyper goofy, to manic, moody and black."
He smiles, but it's one of the saddest smiles I've ever seen sully his sweet face. "I guess those are my symptoms," he says, with a gentle voice.
"Symptoms of what?" I ask, knowing the answer, but wanting him to confirm it.
"My Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." He looks up at the sky, then back at me, "Your symptoms are different, you thought we were dead, so I guess yours are delusion and paranoia."
His face takes on a reflective look, "I had a cousin, older than me, in the military. He was deployed to a war zone. He came back a different guy; diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress, they put him on meds and he got counseling." He pauses, wistful.
"Did he get well?" I ask.
"No. He killed himself."
I'm suddenly jolted, "Kade, you're not having suicidal thoughts, are you?"
