Robert Crane - Untouched

All around us was a dramatic promenade with trees, restaurants and shops. I was a little surprised, but I kept my focus as Scott led us up escalators to a bank of elevators. I stood looking at him and Kat, watched him take her hand and squeeze it with encouragement. I felt a pang of jealousy that turned to sadness by the time the elevator dinged and the doors opened. I shuffled in after them and watched them hold hands. I tried to feel good for them, really I did. Kat needed comfort right now. So did Scott, surely. So did I, when it all came down to it. But as per usual, there was no one there to hold me.

We reached the top floor and stepped off the elevator. I saw a sign for the stairs and headed toward them, Scott and Kat trailing behind. I looked up, and sure enough, there were steps leading up to a locked door. I broke it with ease and we stepped out onto the roof, the winter air chilling me as I led them out under the open night sky.

Snow was piled in drifts around edges and corners, but it looked as though someone had shoveled the roof to keep it mostly clear of snow. A few shacks and some ducts and machinery sat atop the flat surface, but most of it was empty space. I walked across to the far side, wondering if Aleksandr was here yet.

I heard Kat and Scott’s footsteps behind me, soft and even as we padded our way across the roof. “Aleksandr,” I said. The wind carried my words away. I had not bothered to shout it.

“Here.” A small voice reached me and I saw him step out of the shadow of one of the boxy structures. He wasn’t in flames and he wore different clothes since the last time I’d seen him. “You brought her…” He said with something approaching joy, then his eyes alighted on Scott and they narrowed. “And another.”

“Precaution,” I said. “I had to break her out of the Directorate myself. I needed help.” I glanced back to Kat and then to Aleksandr. “There’s something you should know; this isn’t a clone of your sister. It’s actually her.”

His face wrinkled in confusion. “How is that possible?”

I shrugged at him. “How are you possible? She’s a meta, like us. She’s what they call a ‘Persephone-type—’”

“I am familiar with them.” He said it brusquely and then took a couple tentative steps closer to her. “You presume her memory is gone, then?”

I looked back at Kat and gave her as reassuring a smile as I could muster. “Ask her yourself.”

He took another step and stopped, still a dozen paces from her, as if he were afraid she would disappear like a mirage when he got closer. “I was sure I lost you.” He took another step, cocking his head to the side, examining her from all angles. “I watched you burn, watched your skin flake off in the fire.” He swallowed and his cracked lips brushed together. “It was an accident. I am…so sorry. It was my first time…to learn my power, and you thought I was hurt, and tried to help me…and I couldn’t…couldn’t stop it in time—” He choked on the last bit. “I am so sorry, Klementina.”

“My name is Kat,” she said, her voice faint. “Katrina. Or at least that’s what they’ve called me for as long as I can remember.”

He hesitated, then stepped again, now only a couple arm’s lengths away from her. “Your name was Klementina. You are my older sister.”

“I don’t remember.” She held tight to Scott’s hand, but didn’t step back. “You said you last saw me when?”

“1908.” Another step closer. I knew I was going to have to act soon, but I almost couldn’t bring myself to break up the reunion. Gavrikov was so fixated on her, little pieces of his joy at seeing her were breaking through his normally impassive mask. “We grew up together on our father’s farm outside Kirensk.”

“I see.” Her words were soft, contemplative. “Is he still alive, like us? Or our mother?”

Aleksandr seemed to shudder. “Mother died giving birth to me. Father…” He hesitated, looked away, then turned his face back to her but the joy was gone. “Father died on the same day I thought you did.”

There was a cold silence, broken only by the howl of the wind around us. When Kat spoke, it was with more chill than the tempest around us. “Did you…kill him too?”

I cringed and waited for Aleksandr to respond. He did, but not as I expected. “I did,” he said with a glint of pride. “He was not kind to you, Klementina, nor me. He…tortured us. You would come to me, to help salve my wounds after he beat me. And I would console you, after…” He broke off, unable to finish his sentence. “You remember nothing?”

Kat licked her lips and looked to Scott for reassurance. “Before the lab, I can’t really remember anything concrete. I remember a light. I remember…burning. Some other things…a baby crying. But it all seems very far off, so long ago.”

“But not what he…” Aleksandr shuddered, emotions tearing through the formerly seamless mask of his face. “Not the nights, not…what he did…?”

“I don’t—” Kat looked away, to Scott, then to me, then stopped mid-sentence and screamed, but it was too late.

I didn’t see the fist come at me, didn’t sense it coming in all the air rushing past us on top of the tower and by the time I reacted to Kat’s warning, it was too late. I felt my legs buckle as the fist hit the side of my head and I went flying, smashing into the metal ducting that ran across the roof. It collapsed on impact with my shoulders and back and I came to rest, blood dripping down the side of my head to my cheek. I blinked, trying to assess the damage. It hurt. A lot.

I tried to rise to my feet but before I could move, he was on me, hand around my neck, suffocating me. David Henderschott, his armor now all black, clutched me in his metal-clad hand, his cold mask blacked even to the eyeholes, not a trace of remorse or humanity visible as I started to pass out.

A fireball exploded behind Henderschott, causing him to stagger and drop me. I would have been thankful, but one of his armored feet caught me as he stumbled and tread on my midsection. I felt pain in my guts like I hadn’t experienced since Wolfe stuck his finger in my belly and started ripping. I tensed my abdomen and heaved, knocking him off balance and sending him clattering to the ground. I clutched at my stomach, fighting for a breath and left with a perfect view of Kat, Scott and Gavrikov.

“She’s not coming with you,” Scott said, holding his hand out, palm facing Gavrikov, who had already burst into flames.

“Do not stand in my way,” Aleksandr said, that lifeless rumble in his voice again, the guttural horror that he sounded like when he was an inferno. His hands were out, one beckoning to Kat, the fire put out of it, the other pointed at Scott. “I will not warn you again.”

From where I was, rolling in agony, cursing the day I left my house, it looked like Scott smiled. “Do you know what I am?” He seemed to be asking Gavrikov. “Ever heard of a Poseidon-type?”

I didn’t have time to connect the dots before water rushed out of Scott’s extended hand, a pressurized force that knocked Gavrikov back thirty feet into a radio transmitter. I heard the impact; I compared it to the blow I’d taken when Henderschott hit me and thought myself the lucky one.

I started to pull myself up, trying to ignore the pain as I hoped it would subside, but Henderschott was faster. He was on his feet and reached me as I got to one knee. His armor had been painted, all black, causing a bizarre contrast against the night sky, a shadow in the dark. He grasped at me and I lunged. My shoulder hurt as I caught him under the arm, knocking him off his feet with a tackle that I rolled out of. He landed on his back, once more looking like a turtle.