Hero

ADRIAN

               I opened my eyes slowly and saw a bright light. Was it the afterlife?

               "Adrian!" yelled Sam's voice. My eyes opened wide in surprise, but I became annoyed and sighed.

               I'm still alive.

               She hugged me tightly. It hurt.

               "Ouch," I whispered.

               "Careful, Samantha," said LeBron, "You're hurting him."

               "Sorry, Adrian," she apologized, letting me go. "I thought you were going to die. You barely had a pulse when the ambulance took you away. They almost had to revive you!"

               "Wait, I almost died?!" I looked around. "Wait, where's Antonio?"

               "He's perfectly fine. He's upset that you got blood on his new shirt, though," she told me.

               "Sorry," I said. She chuckled.

               "It's fine," she assured me, "I'll just buy him a new one." Then, I remembered.

               "Where's Rodriguez?" I asked. She looked as if she didn't want to talk about it.

               "Um..." her voice wobbled.

               "Rodriguez is missing. We still haven't been able to spot him or discover a body," LeBron finished for her. Sam groaned.

               "Oh, don't say that!" she buried her face in her hands. I thought of what I had seen before I blacked out.

               "I saw him," I stated. Sam looked up quickly and got closer.

               "What?" she inquired, "You saw him? Where?" I saw a shimmer of hope in her eyes that I didn't want to disappear.

               "Yeah, I saw him," I told her, "I saw him lying on the ground when a car came and took him away." She looked at LeBron, then back at me.

               "Do you mean an ambulance?" she asked.

               "No," I replied, "There were no sirens, and they didn't take him on a stretcher. They carried him in their car and drove off." LeBron stood and narrowed his eyes as if he didn't entirely believe me.

               "Adrian," he said, "Elaborate."

               "I'm saying that if what you told me when we were on the roof is true, then Sergei kidnapped Rodriguez," I discerned, "He had one of his men bomb our car the second you started looking for me," LeBron went to the door. I sat up weakly. "Are you going to go rescue him?"

               "It's my only option," he replied.

               "Let me help you," I said. He looked at me and smirked.

               "You're joking, right?"

               "I don't think I'm laughing, LeBron," I said rudely, "Besides, if you go there alone and get kidnapped like Rodriguez, you'd only be giving them what they want. They want you to go there, LeBron. That's their whole plan."

               "Ugh," LeBron scoffed, "Don't you think I know that? I know it would be best to go with someone else, but Sergei is a ruthless killer, and the way you are now, fighting against you would be mere child's play for him, but to make this argument more fair, I can't just assume he'll kill you. He seems to be quite fond of a kid like you."

               "True," Sam agreed, "But you can't go. Not in your condition."

               "Please let me come, LeBron," I pleaded, "I won't do anything stupid! I'll follow every last instruction, even if it means running away to let you die!" LeBron considered this. After a long pause, he took out a pill container and tossed it to me.

               "Take one of those," he told me, "It'll take away all your pain and strengthen you for at least six hours."

               "Pain killers? Is this how you don't feel pain?" I asked him. He looked slightly shocked, and offended, too.

               "When did you ever hear me say that I didn't feel pain?" he asked me, "I can feel it, but I just learned to ignore it. Those pills are for people like you, who weren't taught how to ignore it," he opened the door. "Let's go. We don't have much time."

               "No, he can't!" Sam cried, "He's injured!"

               "Samantha, if Rodriguez were here right now, what do you think he would say?" he asked her. "He would tell you to trust me."

               "I don't know if I can trust you after you lied to me four and a half years ago about Rodriguez's assassination!" she pointed out.

               "Wait, what–"

               "Samantha, listen," LeBron said, interrupting me, "Fear leads to more fear, and trust leads to more trust," he quoted, then mumbled, "Quoted by Dean Ornish." Sam stared at him for a few seconds.

               "Fine, but if he returns looking like he's been beaten up, or worse... If he doesn't return at all..." she warned, "I'll make you plan your own repass."