Tabula Rasa

Chapter 58

"I was under that control for most of my adult life, Matt. And I've seen what its like from the other side, as well. I won't ever let it happen again. I won't ever allow myself to become that...soulless killer again.

I'll do whatever it takes to stop it. To...end it."

Calina's words from all those months ago echoed through Matt's mind as the elevator made the excruciatingly slow ascent to the top of the building. His forehead rested against the panelled wall of the car, his hands braced either side, as he chanted a prayer under his breath:

"Please."

"Please be alive."

"Please."

Her scent swirled around the small, enclosed space, proving his hunch had been correct - she'd taken this trip up to the roof. The familiar, beloved fragrance was layered with thick, suffocating adrenaline, and his heart ached for the terror she was experiencing right now.

"Please be alive."

"Please."

With a soft 'ding' the elevator stopped. Matt exploded off the side of the car and rammed his way through the barely opened doors. He sprinted onto the rooftop, yelling as loud as he could. "Calina!"

Nothing.

A soul-tearing, horrifying nothing was the response.

He darted around a corner, dodging the furniture and plant pots strewn about the sky high garden, as he searched for any sign of her. "Callie, answer me!"

Another corner. Her scent clung to the molecules in the air, but they swirled about in the eddies of the breeze, preventing him from pinpointing her direction. He kept searching, but he was quickly running out of ground to cover and there was still no sign of her. He kept his senses trained to the rooftop itself, purposefully ignoring the stone parapet around the edge. He didn't want to have to look over the side, to the ground hundreds of feet below. He couldn't bear that, he wasn't strong enough-

He froze as a faint whimper reached his ears, almost drowned out by the sound of his own pounding heart. He forced his body under control, and strained to find the source of the noise. He crept around a large sofa, the furniture covered by a tarp that rustled and flapped in the wind...and there she was. Tucked in a ball, her head pressed against her bent knees as she rocked back and forth.

He crouched down in front of her. "Callie?" he called softly. This close he could taste the salt of her tears and could hear the hitch in her breath as she cried. He wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her tight to him, but he had a feeling that would be the wrong approach. There was something so...brittle...in the way she held herself. As if a sudden move could send her off the deep end.

So instead he reached out to gently stroke the top of her head. At his touch, she gasped and scooted backwards, trying to wedge herself further between the sofa and the brick parapet of the roof.

She didn't fight. She didn't try to attack. His strong, capable Callie was reduced to a cowering, sobbing wreck, and it nearly broke him.

"Sweetheart, its me. It's Matt," he crooned, his voice thick with emotion.

"No, no, no," she whispered. "You can't be here."

He thought again of her greatest fear - the mind control serum. Of being forced to become a soulless killer again, a threat to him and the other people she cared about. "You won't hurt me, Callie," he said, trying to put her mind at ease. "You're not under their control again. It's just the fear pheromone. You got hit, baby, but you're going to be okay." He sat down beside her, careful not to touch her again, and continued his litany of reassuring words, praying that they were penetrating the fog of terror she was wrapped in.