Nobody Gets The Girl (20 page)

Rail Blade placed a hand against the wall,
her limbs wobbling as she tried to rise. Instinctively, Nobody
reached out to steady her, placing one hand on her arm, another on
her waist. He felt cold as he realized how stupidly dangerous this
was.

But Rail Blade 'didn't respond with
aggression. She leaned her weight into his arms, and pulled herself
to her feet, her breath coming in labored, ragged heaves.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning to look
into his eyes.

"Um," he answered.

"You," she said, turning her gaze to her
father.

"Finish it," said Dr. Know, grimacing as he
fought against his bonds. "Finish it!"

"You killed me," she said softly. "You killed
me."

"You killed uncounted innocent people! Now
you'll murder me! Finish it!"

Rail Blade's weight shifted from Richard's
arms. The air hummed with energy as a second skin of iron seeped
from her pores, bringing solidity and strength to her trembling
limbs.

A whining wail like a singing saw pierced the
room as a steel rail whipped into the air in front of her. She
leapt onto it, wheels springing into existence as she moved.

She skated toward her father with a gentle
kick, gliding slowly and smoothly, her arms stretched to her sides
in beautiful balance.

Dr. Know writhed in the chair, blood
streaming down his face as his scalp tore against the metal fingers
that held him.

Rail Blade traced a graceful circle around
the chair, then drew to a halt before him. Razor sharp swords as
long as she was tall materialized at her sides as she drew her arms
upward.

"Rail Blade," said Nobody. "Don't."

"Do it," said Dr. Know. "Finish it."

"Please," said Nobody.

"Finish it!" said Dr. Know.

"But," said Rail Blade, tilting her head to
the side, "I haven't even begun."

"Let him go, Amelia," said Nobody. "There's
been enough death already." Her "thank you" wasn't much to go on,
but the look in her eyes a second ago hadn't been the look of
someone out to kill him. This wasn't a hurricane or a volcano
before him. This was Amelia, a person, a friend. He could still
talk her out of this.

"Enough death?" Rail Blade said with a coy
tilt of her head. "I know that better than you'll ever understand.
My heart stopped beating the second his poison entered my
veins."

"Doesn't seem to have slowed you down much,"
said Nobody, cautiously moving around her to get within her line of
sight.

"Blood is iron," she said. "I don't need a
heart to move it through my veins. But I still feel the pain.
There's a cold, dead lump in the center of my chest. How could you,
Father?"

"You'll never believe me," said Dr. Know.

"Try me."

"I did it because I love you, Amelia."

Amelia snorted with brief laughter.

"You could have sent flowers, Doc," said
Nobody.

"You're in such pain," said Dr. Know. "Before
I ever acted, there was a poison eating at your heart. You've
fought the evil of the world for too long, been too often witness
to violence and hate, and it's twisted you, corrupted you. You've
become a mad animal, with pain erasing all reason. You lash out at
the guilty and the innocent alike. My needle was an act of
mercy."

Rail Blade chuckled.

Nobody ducked as the blades at her side began
to carom wildly around the room. Monitors erupted in showers of
sparks as the blades smashed through them. Arcs of current zapped
through the air as the blades sliced through power cables. The hum
of information flowing into the computer bank grew still, replaced
by the screech of metal jagging through metal.

Rail Blade bowed to her father's face, and
kissed him on the forehead. She stood, her chin wet with his blood.
"It has only begun," she said.

Rail Blade pirouetted about, turning her back
to her father. She kicked, moving back along her rail, as blades
grew from the axles of the wheels, reaching out to scrape and score
the walls.

Nobody jumped over the whirling blades,
running to Dr. Know. He pulled at the bonds that held him, to no
avail.

"Don't worry about me," Dr. Know said. "Stop
her. Any way you can."

By now, Rail Blade had left the lab, her
wheel blades tearing through the doorframe. Down the hall she
skated, ripping plaster, smashing through wood and wire. The
paintings of masters that hung along the walls were cut in twain as
she passed. The blade shattered a Ming vase on an elegant ebony
table, spilling flowers to the hardwood floor.

Nobody chased after her, mindful of the torn
wires that crackled on the floor. Plaster fell from the ceiling in
great chunks. The walls creaked and moaned as their supporting
beams were severed.

Now she was in the front entryway. This was
an enormous room, bathed in light from the tall windows. In the
center of the room was a huge staircase covered with red carpet.
Rail Blade rode her silvery beam down the middle of the stairs,
turning her gaze to the crystal chandelier high overhead. The chain
that supported it snapped, and it fell before her, covering the
floor of the entryway with a million sparkling prisms. She waved
her hands before her and a stream of darts sprayed forth,
shattering the windows. Nobody hung back, covering his eyes, as
shards of glass rained down. She skated through the gleaming storm
of glass without harm, the fragments shattering further against her
steely skin.

She passed through the front door, her blades
cutting across the entire length of the front of the house. Nobody
ran for the door as fast as he could, as the walls began to cave.
He passed through to the relative safety of the outside as the
entire front wall of the house crumpled and collapsed, revealing
rooms in every story of the mansion, like a giant dollhouse, with a
cherry red rocket ship in the attic. Katrina Knowbokov, with almost
comic calm, looked up from her book to where the wall had been
seconds before.

Nobody followed Rail Blade as she glided
along above the stone pathway that led to the garden mazes beside
the house. She had withdrawn the wheel blades, and the metal skin
that coated her began to melt away. She passed through a corridor
of hedges until she reached a large circle of rich green grass, in
the center of which was a fountain. Around the circle were dozens
of rose bushes supported by trellises. Nobody had seen this garden
before, but only from the library balcony.

The rail he followed crumbled to red dust.
Rail Blade walked around the fountain, balanced on the marble lip
of the pool. She moved carefully, slowly, her arms held slightly
away from her body for balance.

She reached the far side of the fountain and
hopped down onto the grass. Nobody saw she was looking at a granite
slab that was set into the ground.

He walked around the fountain, and noticed a
small stone bench. He took a seat, only a few yards from Rail
Blade. No, not Rail Blade.
From Amelia.
He had to be careful
how he thought of her. No doubt when Dr. Know had said to stop her
any way possible, he'd been envisioning some violent struggle, some
surprise sneak attack. Nobody had other plans. The key to stopping
Rail Blade was simple. He had to turn her back into Amelia. Forces
of nature were beyond his control. But as for the Knowbokov
sisters... he had a certain flair for dealing with them.

Amelia glanced at him, but said nothing. He
pulled a cigarette from the case in his front pocket and lit it.
She seemed to relax a bit and sat down on the edge of the fountain.
She supported herself with her arms, as she still seemed a bit
wobbly. She continued to look at him.

He stared back. All the steel that had
covered her was gone. Only the tatters of her uniform remained. He
shifted uncomfortably on the bench as he realized that he could see
her right nipple through a rip in her jacket.

"Nobody," she said.

"Amelia," he said. He took another drag on
the cigarette, his eyes returning to her nipple, and to the gentle
curving shadows that lay near it.

"Rough day," he said.

She nodded, smiling coyly.

"The way you're looking at me," she said.
"How strange."

"You're a beautiful woman," said Nobody.
"People are going to look at you."

"I've never liked people looking at me," said
Amelia. "Not like my sister. She's the pretty one."

"Huh," said Nobody. "I mean, Sarah
is
pretty. But you, you know, aren't exactly hard on the eyes. And
there's something about you... a complexity, shall we say, that
Sarah can't even touch."

She smiled, and glanced down at her tattered
clothes. "I think you're looking at my breasts," she said.

"Yeah," he said, sheepishly, but continuing
to look. "You're, uh, kind of hanging out. Sorry."

She moved her hand to the strips of cloth
that covered her right breast and shifted them, concealing the
nipple but revealing more of the breast, with its pale curves. He
could see the beads of sweat that rolled across her skin.

"You find me attractive?" she said.

"Very," he said.

"Have you... ever thought about me?"

"Sexually?" he asked.

She blushed, and turned her gaze from
him.

"Yeah," he said, taking another puff of his
cigarette. “Sure. I mean, I wouldn’t have betrayed your sister when
she and I were together, but from the moment I first saw you
outside the plane window I thought you were amazing. I mean, maybe
it’s a guy thing, but you’re flying beside us at 700 miles an hour
or something and the main thing my brain is screaming is, hey,
she’s hot!”

She looked back at him, her eyes narrow, but
the corners of her lips curved into a smile. "Interesting. Don't I
scare you?"

"Terrify is a better word."

She nodded. Her smile faded. She said,
"Terrify is a much better word."

"Do I scare you?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said.

"You've never even been kissed," he said.

“Why do you assume that?” She looked
hurt.

“Your dad can get into the head of anyone
you’re interested in. That’s a much harsher deterrent than a
chastity belt.”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding sad. “I figured
out early on that I could never love anybody.”

He got up, flicked his cigarette away, and
strolled toward her. He sat next to her. She watched him from the
corner of her eye.

“How about nobody?” he asked.

He placed his hand on her chin and gently
turned her face toward his. He looked at her face, at the sweat,
and the dust, the dried blood, the trails of tears. And her lips.
Her lips were dry and pale and thin, but possessed an appealing
shape. He wiped the blood from her chin. He kissed her, lightly,
tenderly. She didn't close her eyes.

He pulled back, and stared into her eyes.
They were unearthly, with gray irises that seemed to be forged from
steel.

"You have the most extraordinary eyes," he
said. They grew moister.

"Don't cry," he said. "They'll rust."

She closed her eyes. He kissed her once more,
and placed his hand around her waist. She kissed him back this
time, awkwardly, as if unsure of what to do. He stroked her hair
lightly. She placed her hand on his leg.

He pulled his lips from hers and moved them
to her ear. He kissed her softly on the curve of her neck. She gave
a just-audible moan of pleasure.

He whispered, "Keep making that noise when I
do something right."

She put a hand on his chin and turned his
head, looking into his eyes. Her eyes were wet, shedding tears as
she blinked.

"How did you know how badly I’ve wanted
this?" she asked.

He smiled, and pulled her closer to him. He
ran his hand beneath the ruins of her clothes, stroking her back as
he pulled her closer.

"Didn't I tell you my other superpower?" he
said, lowering his lips to her neck.

She groaned once more.

"Show me," she said.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD HEART

HE LOWERED HER
to the soft green
grass, pulling away the remains of her jacket. He dropped his mouth
to her breast. She arched her back and gasped.

He ran his hand along her leg. Her skin was
hot and soft, slick with sweat. He reached the edge of her skirt
and explored beneath it. Her breathing quickened.

She smelled so alive. Her odor was
intoxicating, full of musk and mystery. Blood, sweat, tears, the
dust of Jerusalem, all blended together into some alchemical potion
of desire. The perfume of the nearby roses paled in comparison to
the rush he got breathing in the air that flowed across her moist
skin.

Her panties were drenched, more with sweat
than excitement, he guessed. He ran his finger along the inside of
the elastic band. She was burning hot, and trembled at his touch.
She shifted her legs wider as her hands clenched into fists in his
hair.

"I didn't know," she groaned. "I didn't know
it would feel this good. I don't want it to stop."

He cocked his head to one side, in an echo of
her earlier gesture. "It's only begun," he said, lowering his mouth
to her skin once more.

THE NIGHT BROUGHT
a bright, full moon.
They lay together on the granite slab, on his spread out shirt. His
jacket was pulled over them. He cradled her as she rested her head
against his chest.

"I understand now," she said.

"What?"

"Why they call it 'making love.’”

He ran his fingers lightly across her
back.

"I've never been in love before," she
said.

With his other hand, he traced the gentle arc
of her lower lip. She kissed his fingers.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

“Hmmm," he said.

She tensed, ever so slightly.

"I don't want to lie to you," he whispered.
"I don't know. I don't know if what I'm feeling is love, or just
bliss."