No Such Thing As Perfect

Kale

"Jinks."

Kale gripped his friend's jacket sleeve with sweating hands. His heart raced inside his chest, pounded against his ribs. How was this happening? A gunman. In the testing area. Someone must have bypassed security, walked into the Hall straight into the testing complex. But how? Why? What did he want?

"Jinks, what...what's going on? Is this a part –"

"It's okay, Kale. It's okay." Jonquil's breathless voice did nothing to comfort him. He noticed the sweat beading on his face. The guardian was trembling as he turned to the man in the mask, hands raising a little higher. "Sir, what do you want?"

"You know what I want!" The man growled, waving his gun. With a shove, the desk clerk fell forward and hit the floor with enough force that Kale thought he heard a sharp crack. The clerk went limp instantly. Kale flinched and closed his eyes tightly. His chest tightened. Each breath was short, painful. He was going to die. He hadn't even made it to the Old World, and he was going to die.

"Ten, Kale. Count to ten." He heard Jonquil whisper, then a loud "I'm sorry, sir. We can't help you unless you tell us what you need."

Kale inhaled a shaky breath. In vain he tried to keep his voice steady. It was as if heavy clouds were forming in his mind, shutting out panic and common sense alike. He had to count, stay focused. Stay here in this nightmare. "One, two..."

"Get on the ground!"

"Three...four..."

"Sir –"

"Now!"

He felt Jonquil's wide hands grasping his shoulders and gently but quickly pulling him down. He saw the desk clerk sprawled on the floor, unmoving. The gunman stood waving his gun and shouting. His dark eyes gleamed beneath the mask. Everything else was a blur.

"Six–no–five. Seven–I..." Kale shuddered. His head clouded and he felt sick. Numb, shaking hands clutched his stomach. "Jinks, I –"

Jonquil looked at him and his eyes widened a little. "No, no, no. Not now." His words sounded like a regret, a soft sigh.

His grip tightened around Kale's shoulders, and he stared straight into his eyes. "I can't have you fade. Not now. You got to stay focused. You hear me?"

"What's with the kid?" The masked man shouted. Kale imagined him waving his gun again. He tried to focus on his guardian's voice, let it bring him back from the clouds.

"Stay with me, Kale. We can get through this, but you have to stay focused."

Stay, said Jonquil. Run, said every fiber of his being. The latter was not an option. He was frozen, too numb with fear to move.

"Hey!" He could hear shoes pounding against the floor. His stomach twisted tighter. "What's up with him?"

"He'll be okay. I just–let me get him to that chair over there. He'll be okay in a minute."

There was a long pause. "Fine. Hurry it up. But nothing funny, got it?"

Jonquil scooped Kale into his arms, leaning close to his ear. "Use the phone. The phone, got it? You can do this."

Kale gulped in another set of shallow breaths. How? He wanted to say, but the word caught in his throat.

Jonquil grunted as he stumbled to his feet, strong arms hooked under Kale's knees and around his shoulders. The bumpy ride across the hotel floor ended as Jonquil laid him across the chair. Kale leaned back. Took another breath. He found his voice, what little of it he could find. "Jinks..."