Rouge (26 page)

As Hunter moved through the
recovery ward, she wondered what she might say to her teacher. The last time
they spoke, Hunter had lied straight to her face, completely denying she knew
anything about the special drug that gave her powers. She remembered the look
of hidden anticipation evaporate completely from her teachers face and bit her
lip. What would Miss Smart say to her? Did she remember anything about the
fire? Hunter approached the room in which she was told her teacher rested and
paused for just a moment. It was highly unlikely that Miss Smart was even
conscious when Hunter had called out to her and carried her through the burning
lab. But intuition was obviously one of her traits, and she already had
suspicions.
Does she know it was me?

Room 219 was empty but for a
bed by the window in which lay her teacher, wrapped in tight bandages and
smelling like strong herbal salves. Her eyes were closed, a drip running from
her arm to the IV monitor. A lot of her hair had been shaved and her lips and
the skin under her eyes were a dark purple. Hunter crept to the chair beside
the bed, smiling at the vase of red roses and ‘Get Well’ cards. From her family,
she guessed.

Miss Smart’s eyes fluttered
open and her head turned to the side.

“Hunter,” she mumbled,
smiling. “What a nice surprise.”

“Hi Miss Smart. How are
you?”

“I’m doing fine.” She
wriggled slightly so as to adjust her head on the pillow and fixed Hunter with
a look that told her she was anything but fine, however well she tried to hide
it. “Thank you.”

“I thought I owed it to you
to visit. You are, after all, my favorite teacher.”

Miss Smart smiled, and even
though it was very small, it still spread through to her eyes. “I’m very
flattered. How are things at school?”

Hunter dove easily into a
conversation - or a monologue to be more precise - in which she recounted the
events of her school day. Miss Smart was surprised to hear that classes still resumed,
and amused at Hunter’s impression of a hysterical Clare Holloway. She explained
that both she, Clare and Jack were involved in the rescue.

“Yeah,” Miss Smart muttered.
Her voice was hoarse and empty and every word came out pained. It broke
Hunter’s heart. “I’m... rather glad you’re… here to tell me… yourself.”

“Do you remember anything
about what happened?” Hunter asked, hoping Miss Smart saw the anxiousness in
her expression as fear for her teacher’s health and not fear that her secret
was in danger.

Miss Smart frowned. “No...
not much. I was… working on a new solution for class... I don’t even remember
what I did. But… I do remember it going terribly wrong. I was thrown back by
the explosion. I hit my head… when I woke up there was fire all around me. I
couldn’t breathe.”

Hunter recalled the lab
ablaze with angry golden flames, fearing Miss Smart was already dead. It was
the strangest feeling, walking through a burning room with fire encasing her
and not feeling a thing. It was as if Hunter were a ghost, her spirit untouched
by the flames. She shivered at the memory. It had been horrifying, if only for
a moment. After that, Hunter was able to concentrate on finding her teacher and
getting the hell out of there.

“So you don’t know how you
got out?” she tried.

Miss Smart’s eyes met
Hunter’s and for the first time since class the previous day, Hunter saw that
same glimmer of wonder.

“Hunter,” she whispered. “I
can’t block out the… painful memories of that fire. I remember burning and
coughing so much my lungs felt like a punching bag... but there is one image I
see clearer than all of it… and it doesn’t make any sense.”

Hunter was almost afraid to
ask. Her heart pounded, the fire burning in anticipation. “What’s that?”

“I remember seeing red hair.
I remember your voice… calling out to me. I saw a figure jump over my desk and
felt arms go around me, lifting me out of the fire, carrying me to safety. I
remember… being able to breathe again.” Her eyes blazed as they regarded Hunter
as though she were an angel sent from God. “I sat here after waking up in
recovery in the middle of the night, telling myself I was crazy, that it
couldn’t have been you… and that it was a figment of my imagination. But after
I heard that you were involved with the fire... I just knew.” Miss Smart broke
into a severe coughing fit. Hunter winced at the terrible sound. “I knew it was
you,
” she croaked
.
“You saved my life Hunter.”

Those simple words echoed in
Hunter’s mind as though she were suddenly in a dark hole and the sounds were
ricocheting back to her, over and over. With her heart beating fast, Hunter
looked away from the striking eyes of her teacher, but the image was still
plastered in her mind. Miss Smart looked at her in a way no one ever had. With
hope, with the possibility of salvation as if she were some sort of… hero.

There was no point in
pretending that Miss Smart was crazy or delirious from the pain and the smoke
she inhaled, because Hunter didn’t think she could lie to her teacher again.
Besides, the look in Miss Smart’s deep brown eyes mirrored Jack’s that morning;
full of admiration and wonder. As much as she hated to admit it, it made her
feel special. Like her powers weren’t a burden or evil or the reason she had
killed. Like they meant something.

So Hunter reached over to
the bed and gently grasped Miss Smart’s hand. The bandages itched under her
fingers. It was with a thumping heart and a shaky voice that she said, “you’re
right, Miss Smart. It was me who pulled you out of the fire.” 

–
P
ART
4
–

PROMISES

Joshua was making dinner when Hunter
entered the apartment that night. She smelled chicken
parmigiana
- one of her favorite dishes - and the television was playing in the
background. Hunter expected the apartment to be cold and prepared for more
awkwardness with Joshua. She’d even thought about moving out on the way home.
But something about the atmosphere seemed different tonight, as if the tension
had lifted.

“You’re just in time for
dinner,” he said without looking up from the frying pan where the chicken was
cooking.

She walked cautiously into
the kitchen, dropping her school bag by the counter top. “You’re cooking dinner
for me?”

“Why not?” he shrugged.

“Because you suck at
cooking.”

Joshua snickered. “I’m not
allowed to try?”

“Please don’t play this game
Joshua. If you’re angry, don’t hide it.”

“I’m not angry,” he said,
and when his eyes met hers they weren’t so ice-cold. She blinked in surprise.
“I’ve had the day to think about things, and I’ve realized that the way I’ve
been treating you isn’t right. You’re going through hell Hunter, and all I’ve
done is drive you into the ground with training, kept you from living a normal
life and breathe down your neck about being who you are and showing your true
colors.” He placed the spatula down and turned to the chopping board where
vegetables lay ready to be tossed into a salad. “I only want to protect you
Hunter. I need you to know that.”

“I know Joshua,” she managed
to say.
Doesn’t mean you have to keep me locked in this damn apartment and
stop me from using my powers.
“You’ve just been really crazy lately, and
it’s freaking me out.”

Joshua glanced at her with a
real smile on his face. “That’s what your mother used to say.”

Hunter looked into Joshua’s
calm eyes and found herself forgetting how he’d been acting these past few
months. Sure, he tried to stop her from going to school and seeing Eli and
drilled it into her head that she couldn’t use her powers or tell people about
them, but things had changed. She had saved Miss Smart’s life. She, and
possibly Jack, knew what Hunter could do. But so far, it wasn’t completely
horrible. There were no Agents knocking on their door. Would Joshua understand?
Would he go back to the psychotic Iceman he’d been in the beginning, or would
this new, composed Joshua be forgiving?

Hunter decided to try him.
She’d lived with him her whole life. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her,
and nothing she couldn’t hide from him. She’d learned that the hard way.

“Joshua there’s something
you need to know about the fire,” she started guardedly.

“What is it?”

Shit this is hard.
Beads of sweat were already forming on
her hairline and upper lip. “Well… when I pulled Miss Smart out of the fire, I
didn’t realize that she was actually conscious for most of it and... when I
visited the hospital this afternoon, she ...
knew
. She remembered my
voice and my face in the fire. She knows I pulled her out and she knows what I
am. I couldn’t lie to her again.”

“Again?” he asked in a hollow
voice. The look of serenity in his eyes was slowly paling. They were clouding
with ice again.

This was a bad idea,
the fire warned, but she couldn’t help
the words that kept tumbling out of her mouth. “She’d been researching the
Feucotetanus drug for a long time, and she recognized an equation in my
assignment that I wrote by accident. It was the formula you showed me a few
months ago back when we were looking at the theory of my powers. She put it all
together. She’s very smart.” There was a great sizzling sound and Hunter peered
around Joshua at the smoking the frying pan. “Joshua, the chicken?”

He didn’t move. Hunter ran
around him and turned off the stove, afraid to look at his eyes anymore. The
temperature in the room was dropping.

Finally he answered, his
back to her and his hands clenching the end of the bench so hard that his
knuckles stood out like white caps. “Does anyone else know?”

“J-” His name caught in her
throat, as if the fire silenced it. Joshua’s reaction wasn’t exactly
surprising, but she’d hoped things would go the other way. She couldn’t go
through more of the silent treatment from him after he found out she was
sneaking to school. Madness would take over her. “Just Miss Smart.”

He nodded and turned to face
her very slowly. “I suppose you couldn’t help that. You saved her life, she
should be grateful to you.”

“Aren’t you... I
dunno
, worried she’ll tell or something?”

Joshua grinned, but it was
completely fake. “She won’t tell. She owes it to you.” He leaned over and took
the pan with the slabs of black chicken. “Sorry about your dinner,” he said as
he stuck the pan in the sink. “I guess I really can’t cook.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the lab. Have a break from
training and study Hunter, get some rest.” He walked mechanically to the
apartment door, took his key card and disappeared seconds later.

A sick feeling formed in her
stomach, and it didn’t go away, even when she’d eaten, showered and fallen into
a stiff sleep. Her dreams were disfigured images of Joshua chasing her with a
frozen frying pan and a man leaning over her as she lay on one of the steel
tables in the lab, whispering to her. Then she was encased in flames, peaceful
and alone.

When Hunter opened her locker the next
morning in the busy corridor, a small piece of paper fell out. Feeling like she
was experiencing the biggest cliché ever, Hunter grinned, scooped down and
retrieved the note.

‘We need to talk. Meet me
under the bleachers. I have PE. Mozart.’

She wasn’t sure why she
suddenly couldn’t wait to meet Eli. Last night she would have dreaded looking
into his perfectly innocent face and seeing the reflection of herself in his
square glasses, her red hair a dead giveaway of her true self. But suddenly...
she needed it. Amid the chaos of her life, Eli was her peace.

But they hadn’t spoken since
the night she ran from his house. Was he still upset that she’d bailed without
an explanation? Was he offended, hurt, maybe even a little peeved?

He deserves your
attention,
said her
subconscious.
You owe him that much.

She raced through the
corridor just beginning to thin out. Usually her day began with physics, but
since the accident with Miss Smart a substitute had taken over the lesson, and
everyone knows substitutes don’t know shit about what the students have been
learning in class, so it was basically a dud lesson. Hunter didn’t care either
way as she sprinted through the gymnasium and came out onto the oval. Eli’s PE
class was running circuits on the opposite side of the grassed area - clipped
to perfection - and she squinted around the bleachers, searching for the
blonde-haired boy, imagining him sitting on one of the benches waiting for her.

Instead a soft hand closed
around her mouth and her stomach and she was yanked backwards,
under
the
bleachers, where the hands lifted her up and over a metal bar. They were
sheltered from view under the slanting seats, invisible.