Robert Crane: Soulless

I ran over uneven ground, feeling the dirt kick up as I raced toward the place where she had landed. I pushed aside tree branches to find her in a creek, the water running over her. I cringed and hurried over. I felt the cool water splash into my boot (black, pleather, fairly nice until I got them wet) and soak my socks, felt the chill of it on my hands as I reached down and grabbed her under the arms to drag her to the bank. My gloves were leather and not meant to get soaked, but I dared not take them off; her shirt was sleeveless and her pants were short. My touch as I pulled her out of the water would be much worse than the damage she’d already taken.

Her hair was wet with water and just a little blood, I noticed as I pulled her onto the stony bank of the creek. She snorted and choked out clear liquid and bile as I pulled her onto the rocks. I felt the dampness make its way through my jeans and my long sleeved shirt. It was desperately hot, I was sweating, and the cool wetness was a kind of sweet relief from the heat.

“Woo hoo hoo,” came a catcall from the other side of the creek. “Look at that; Sienna and Eve, getting all wet and clingy.” A low guffaw came after it and I felt a bitter pang of annoyance. The speaker was a little taller than me but still short for a man. He wore a cutoff tank top and ragged blue jeans, and his hair was thinning on top, obvious since he wasn’t wearing his usual baseball cap to cover it.

“She’s hurt pretty bad, Clary,” I said. I looked down at her and her eyes fluttered. A thin trickle of blood ran down her forehead.

“She’ll be fine.” He dismissed us with a wave, turning his head away and puckering his lips in amusement. “It’s not every day I get to see the two of you rubbing up against each other. I might have to watch for a bit.”

I picked her up and carried her off the rocks to the trail. She was wet, an unconscious, dead weight that wasn’t fighting back. I set her on the dirt, long strings of her hair tangled. They touched the ground and I saw the little granules of sand cling to them. I felt guilty; she was going to be super pissed when she woke up.

I heard Clary splash through the creek behind me as I knelt next to Eve. Her hair had gotten long; it was short when I first met her. She was very thin, her chest flat, heaving up and down with great effort; her breathing was ragged. When I pulled her shirt back to look at the damage, I heard a moan of pain from her and a deep breath of interest from Clary. I shot him a dirty look and turned back to Eve.

Her sternum was broken, a hideous blackish blue bruise had begun to spread from the center of her chest. I didn’t dare unzip her shirt to look closer (especially with that pervert Clary behind me) but I knew enough that I was certain I’d have to call—

“Dr. Perugini is on the way,” came the voice from in front of me. Roberto Bastian came toward us at a jog, his buzzed black hair dripping with sweat. “She’ll be here in five or less. Until then, let’s just assess the damage—” He halted and dropped to a knee next to Kappler. “Damn.” He shot a look at me, but there was a surprising lack of guilt in it. “You’re playing a little rough for a training exercise, Nealon.”

“The rock kinda got away from me,” I said. “It’s not exactly easy for us ground-based types to take down a flyer. She was throwing her nets at me and I just…” I searched my memory, trying to make my vicious ambush seem not quite so vicious. “…figured out a way to take her down and did it.”

“Boy, did you,” said Glen Parks, splashing across the creek with Scott and Kat in tow. Parks was an older man, his long hair gray, mustache and beard matching it perfectly; not quite ZZ Top length, but close. He brushed the beard to the side and I could see a contusion across his neck that looked like my wristwatch. “I’m not upset that you took this exercise seriously, but next time be more careful with the neck. Even as a bear I’m not immune to your strength.”

“Sorry,” I said, somewhat abrupt. I turned my attention back to Eve as Kat eased down beside me, her hands already brushing against Eve’s neck. The German woman was rasping and her eyes were still rolled back in her head. “I was just trying to win.”

“Damn, you sure were, girl,” Clary said. “But you’re gonna catch all kinds of hell from—”

“What is going on here?” The crackling of an Italian accent was laced with thunderous irritation. I blanched at the sound of it, and after examination, wondered why I was more afraid of the reaction of a human doctor than the metahumans I had been sparring with only minutes before.

Dr Isabella Perugini stopped on the bank opposite us, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, her white lab coat falling below her knees. She slid off her high heeled shoes and began to pick her way across the stream, trying to balance on the rocks jutting out of the water. Her dark complexion was more flushed than usual, her eyes narrowed at me. “You again?” She said it as she executed a hop from one rock to another. “I thought I sorted you out!”

“I got carried away,” I said.

She made her last jump and flinched as her foot caught the edge of the rock she landed on. She cursed loudly, then covered the ground to get to us. She knelt and looked to Kat, who had unzipped Eve’s shirt to expose her bruised and misshapen sternum. “How is she?” the doctor said to Kat.

“All the problems you’d expect her to have.” Kat ran a hand through Eve’s hair. “Fractured skull, presumably from the landing, broken sternum.” She gave the doctor a wan smile. “I’m working on it. The broken bones will be mended in just a minute.”

Perugini turned back to me, one eye cocked and twitching, the other narrowed. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

“Training’s rough,” Bastian said as I avoided her gaze. He looked at me, expression neutral. “It’s gonna be fine. We’ve got Forrest; she’ll fix it.”

Perugini’s mouth became a thin line. “What happens on the day she isn’t around?”

Kat let out a sharp exhalation and fell back on her haunches, then lay down on the rocky shore. “That day is not today,” she said with a gasp as I watched little blades of grass and weeds spring up from between the rocks she lay on, reaching up to stroke her exposed skin. “She’ll be fine.” Kat lifted her head to look at Dr. Perugini. “I might need a minute, though.”

I heard the sound of feet splashing in the water and looked up to see Ariadne Fraser making her way across the water. She held her high-heeled shoes in her hands, and her black jacket and skirt were taxing her balance. I raised an eyebrow in surprise when she made it across the bank, her pantyhose having developed three runs along her thighs and two holes in the toes from her crossing. Her red hair was the only splash of color visible on her as she made her way over to us, serious as ever. “Situation?”

Perugini answered, frost under her words. “She’ll be fine. Training exercise got out of hand.”

Ariadne dropped to her knees next to Eve, looking down at the German woman, who was still unconscious but now breathing easily. “Why is she out?”

“She landed on her head,” Perugini said, her eyes glancing at me for a brief second. “Kat has healed her skull fracture but I suspect she won’t be awake for several minutes, possibly an hour.” The doctor put on her stethoscope and placed the metal end on Eve’s chest. “There doesn’t appear to be any lasting damage but I’d like to do an MRI just the same.”

“You’re sure she’s all right?” Ariadne looked back up at the doctor, her eyes slitted, her hand clutching Eve’s in a way that caught my attention. I looked up and saw Clary looking back at me. He gave me a subtle nod, a wide grin on his face.