Find Me a Cure

Chapter 25: Judas

If guilt were a bell that unceasingly reminded you of the error of your ways with every pang, then I was feeling guilt – a lot of it. Why? I didn't know. Okay, that was a lie. The wise and logical part of my brain grudgingly came to the admission that it was because of my traitorous conversation with Leonardo Sterling; how perhaps I should have stopped at "There's a guy". However, in an attempt to escape mental confrontation with myself, the more immature part of brain tried to shrug it off, blindly thinking of the picturesque beaches of LA as a source of distraction.

"Tried" being the operative word.

Because for starters, and despite how many times I'd already said it, it was winter, which posed a challenge to the picturesque beach idea. And for seconders, him sitting right opposite me like that, made it hard to ignore those pangs of with guilt with every strike of clapper to bell.

When I first entered the room, I found that Mark wasn't in there. Thank God, I thought. The only people there were
Bernard and Everest.

They didn't ask me any questions regarding my whereabouts of the past four hours. Judging by Bernard's facial expressions, the suspense was clearly eating the big guy out, but he chose to remain quiet. I decided that Everest was either too stubborn or too careless to ask, however he did watch me carefully as I came into the room. At first, I thought it was a general, empty stare. It was when I moved closer that I realised his eyes were focused not exactly on my eyes, but rather the empty space above my left eye.

Right, the eyebrow ring.

He didn't comment on it, but seemed as though he was taking in my face as if looking at it for the first time. It was when I struck a posed in response, that he seemed to come to his senses and looked away.

I took a seat opposite him at the table he was sitting by. "So, how do you suppose we approach her?" I conversed, referring to Gemma, whilst trying to discard that stabbing burden of guilt.

"I haven't thought about it."

"Oh," I glanced at the now scabs on his hands, which came about from all the shambles in the forest, and cringed; I was never really a huge fan of the sight of wounds even if they were almost completely healed, as his were. "What if she refuses?"

"We will get it," he stated.

"Yes but—"

"202, you can shatter her nervous system in a fraction of a second. I can't see why you're overthinking this."

My eyes widened. This swiftly took a drastic turn. "You want me to shatter her nervous system?" My eyes glittered at the very thought.

"No. We need her cure."

"Fair enough," I shrugged, half disappointed. "Wait. Did you just praise me?"

"No." It was a small word, but it was a small word that was answered too quickly, as if in a meteoric spasm of absolute refusal.

"Yes, you did!" I accused. "You were all like—" I dropped my voice, "you can do it! You have superpowers! You're awesome!'"

"I didn't say that."

"But, you meant it," I sang.

As per usual, he glared, and I hushed after that – for a few seconds, at least.

"I have to give it to him," I said, out of the blue, "he's a smart guy."