My shirt is soaking wet, “Kade, you cried buckets, look at me, I look like I’ve been in the shower fully clothed – you sure needed that cry,” I say, in an effort to lighten the tone.
He looks embarrassed, “I guess I needed a hug,” he looks at me with tear-swollen eyes and a sheepish smile, “thanks, Tan.”
......
Kade makes the best hot chocolate, ever. Every sip of the smooth, velvety warmth is a comfort.
The three of us are in the chill-out area discussing the day: suggesting ideas, tactics and the logistics of how we wage war and free ourselves (and others) from the controlling grip of The Surgeon and her people. Kelly’s communicating by typing into a computer, which translates her words into a robotic voice, it sounds weird, but it works.
......
I’m concerned that Kade is still being very quiet, “What is it Kade?” I ask. “Nothing, I’m good, fully on board with you guys and ready for action,” he says. I nod my head, “You can’t hide from me Kade, there’s something on your mind,” I say. He gives me a small smile, “Truth is, I’m real embarrassed about crying, breaking down like that. I don’t want you to lose confidence in me,” he says. I reassure him, “You know, sometimes we have to breakdown to get back up. You needed to get those tears out, they were like toxins, poisoning your confidence, it’s good that you got them all out,” I say. Kade gives me his widest, brightest smile, “You’re so wise, for such a young...” he stops abruptly and I jump in, “For such a young, what?” I ask. He sits upright, “Nothing, you’re just very wise for someone so young, that’s all,” he says, rising and walking towards Kelly at the computer.
I know he was going to say, ‘for such a young girl.’
……
In my room, I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror.
What do I see?
I still see a slender and petite young girls figure.
I move in closer and study my face: large, pale blue eyes are framed by sweeping black lashes. The nose is small and straight with a slight, ski-slope slant upwards at the tip. Full lips complete a set of features that sit in a symmetrical, heart shaped face; a face that has been entirely sculpted by The Surgeon’s knife.
I step back and look at the overall picture. It can’t be denied; I look like a young and pretty girl. This person I see in the mirror – it’s not the real me!
I hate my face – and my body.
I pull myself from my image and sit on the bed.
We have a problem beyond The Surgeon: I think Kade likes me. But he likes me the way a guy like s a girl; my head’s finding this hard to handle. But I can’t let this get in the way of the job we have to do – defeating The Surgeon.
……
Hey guys and gals, you know, I just re-read the above and realized how arrogant I sound. Jeez, maybe I’m misreading the situation and Kade just likes me in a kind of sister/brother way.
Perhaps I’m just being paranoid, because the idea of a guy hitting on me bothers me so much.
But there’s something else that’s freaking me out big time – it’s my own feelings. I keep getting these weird, warm, emotional feelings about…
…NO! I’m not going there.
I’m pulling the shutters down on my emotions.
I have to.
Victory against The Surgeon is the only thing that can have my headspace.
……
I’m woken with a shake from the deepest sleep – disoriented.
It’s Kelly.
She’s shaking my shoulders and thrusting a piece of paper in my face. I’m all slurry with sleep and my eyes struggle to focus; when they do, I read: 'I CAN’T FIND KADE. HE’S NOT ANSWERING HIS CELL!'
I jump into jogging bottoms, pull on a sweatshirt and follow Kelly into the chill-out area. She looks at me, puts her hands to her mouth then throws them outwards while mouthing ‘Kade.’ She wants me to holler his name, I oblige at the top of my voice – “KADE!”
No response.
Instinctively, I dash for his bedroom with Kelly hot on my heels. I burst through the door, “KADE!”
Nothing.
I note his bed; it definitely hasn’t been slept in. I turn to Kelly, “How was he last night after I went to bed, did he say anything that might suggest he was going to do something, go somewhere?” I ask. I can see the angry frustration in her face as she tries, struggles and still fails to speak. She slams her notepaper onto the desk and attacks it with a pen. Her scrawled words are barely legible, but I manage to read: 'NO. HE HAD A POSITIVE ATTITUDE.'
……
So much for only giving our war my thinking time – I sit on the bed with worry whirling round my head. You know what Kade can be like, he can be very impulsive and jump into a situation without thinking the consequences through.
Kelly shakes my shoulders impatiently, “I’m trying to think, Kelly, give me a break,” I say, while searching my head for an answer.
“Your Mom, the brain, maybe he’s with it, I mean her,” I say, leaping from the bed.
We both jog to the alcove that houses the trolley and brain, “KADE!”
All we hear is the soft purring of the brain’s machinations.
No Kade.
……
Back in the chill-out area we stare at the monitors. The men have been extremely busy. Over night they have constructed the first hill and drop of The Love Rush. It stretches high into the sky with an almost vertical drop. They continue to work with a military like precision.
Kelly is darting between monitors, staring intently at each one. I am looking for any signs of Kade’s presence.
I find none.
My worry is escalating toward panic with every minute that Kade remains missing.
This worry is accompanied by flashes of anger; why would he do this to me – I mean us?
……
Back in the chill-out area, Kelly is communicating via the computer, the robotic words fill the space, 'Tanya, one of the men is missing, I count only eleven, there were twelve yesterday,' she is saying.
I check the main monitor. Yep, only eleven. I join Kelly at the computer, “The Surgeon did say they’d be punished for our interruption. Maybe she’s removed one to make the others have to work harder, that’s the kind of fucked up thing she’d do,” I say. Kelly’s typed response is rapid, 'That’s to nice for her, she’ll do something much crueler, for sure!'
She’s so right, removing one man from the workforce would be far too kind for The Surgeon. I’m about to reply when a loud clattering sound makes us both jump.
It came from Kade’s room.
We both run toward it.
My heart is pleading – ‘please let it be Kade’ – my head is saying – ‘please let him be ok.’
……
We burst into the room.
I’m hit with a crushing disappointment – the room’s empty.
A sudden ray of hope lifts my spirits as Kelly hikes up the bed and I recall it leads down into the vehicle parking lot. ‘Please God let Kade be down here’ I repeat to myself as we descend the staircase while the bed slowly closes above us.
My eyes become accustomed to the dim light as I scan the space with a hopeful heart, and a rational head, “Hey, Kade, are you down here!” I shout.
A perfect echo of my words is the only response.
My eyes flinch as Kelly hits the lights.
I note all the vehicles are present, which tells me he hasn’t gone far, he’s not driven off to some place – a good sign.
Kelly is checking inside all the vehicles while I walk around the lot shouting out his name.
Shoot – I slide on something slippery and pain pounds through me as my backside hits the ground hard. I’m momentary dazed, but recover quickly and get to my feet.
My right hand instinctively rubs my ass; my joggers are wet. I look at my hand – blood!
“Kelly, get over here – now!”
Her eyes widen when she sees the blood on my hand. She checks me over for signs of a cut, “No, it’s not my blood, I slipped on someone else’s,” I say.
We both look at the floor. There’s a skid mark of blood followed by several small droplets of what appears to be freshly spilled blood.
My heart freezes as I see that the droplets lead toward the ambulance – the back door of which is open.
My breathing becomes heavy and my chest heaves at an alarming rate.
We walk toward the ambulance with slow, measured steps, both fearful of what we’re about to find.
……
I see him first – “Kade – no, NO! no. What have you done?” I scream.
I take short, sharp breaths in an attempt to keep myself under some kind of control while I observe the scene.
He’s lying on his back, in the middle of the ambulance. His eyes closed.
When I see the scalpel in his right hand – coldness engulfs me.
Then – regret races through me; I wish I had told him about what I was beginning to feel…