Awake

Chapter Forty-Two - Self Control and Dangerous Choices

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "I don't understand. What happened?"

Sandy stared at him. "You...you don't remember?"

Ebb shook his head. "No. I remember...I remember fighting. I remember you and Cass and that woman trying to shoot you down..."

"You destroyed her," Sandy murmured. "Annihilated her. Exterminated her."

Ebb nodded. "Yes. Yes, that sounds familiar. And then...there was someone else...aiming for you..."

Sandy waited for a moment. "You really don't remember what happened next?"

Ebb shook his head again. "Not a thing. Why? How did I get hurt? How...how come you're alright?"

"You stepped in front of me," Sandy said, softly. "You moved so fast. I didn't even think it was possible for anyone to be that quick. But you just pushed me back and stepped in front of me and then..."

He broke off, taking a deep breath, while Ebb tried to fit this story into his version of events, his knowledge of how things went and how he behaved. It didn't work.

"There wasn't time to stop him shooting," Sandy continued. "Nobody could do anything. He just kept firing at you and you were there, shielding the two of us...well, mostly shielding me. And they kept hitting you and the blood and then..."

"Is that my blood?" Ebb asked, abruptly. "On your face?"

Sandy nodded. "It sprays. When you puncture someone. The blood sprays everywhere."

Ebb stared at him for a moment. He felt as though the depths of his mind that he might need to comprehend any of this were closed off from him, behind the wall of white.

"What happened to the person shooting me?" he wondered aloud.

"I killed him," Sandy said, without any inflection.

Ebb nodded. There was a kind of hatred in that statement, a rage so deep and complex that it didn't need to be expressed in shouts or violence. It was the kind of rage that could simmer below the surface, stored away in a great reservoir, and never be seen...until somebody had to die. Ebb could respect that rage. Ebb could respect Sandy for possessing it.

"I'm sorry," Sandy whispered. "I never meant...I never wanted..."

"I didn't save you on purpose," Ebb interrupted. "You do realise that? I didn't save you on purpose. I don't even remember doing it."

Sandy frowned. "You stepped in front of me. You don't just step into the path of a bullet by accident. You can't."

"Well, I did," Ebb said, angrily. "Stop with this. Stop making me out to be some kind of hero. Enough."

Sandy stared at him for a few seconds before nodding once. "But all the same. Thank you."

Ebb closed his eyes, feeling the crushing weight of Sandy's guilt and gratitude pressing down on him. He didn't want it. He didn't need it. He didn't deserve it.

"Where am I hurt?" he asked, as coldly as he could.

"Your right leg, just below the knee. Your hip bone was shattered. One bullet went right through your hand and out the other side. Another grazed the side of your head. It didn't break the bone but..."

"I get the point," Ebb sighed deeply. "I'm pretty much ruined."

"No," Sandy said, quickly. "Not ruined. Just hurt. Lots of people are hurt. You're not even the worst of them. I just..."

"No fighting," Ebb mumbled. "No moving. I'm stuck being an invalid again."

"I'm sorry," Sandy said, remorsefully.