Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
GRACE
" H as everybody made it inside safely?" I asked Tarax as he slid inside the window last, roping his massive legs around the frame as he pushed himself into the building.
He had waited until there was no one else, selflessly going last — but I just wanted to ensure we hadn't left any stragglers behind on accident.
Tarax nodded, glancing over his shoulder with a trace of paranoia flickering in his dark, teal eyes. I was unnerved by how frantic he seemed. He was the glue that was supposed to hold us together.
"Yes, that's everybody," Tarax confirmed. He assessed his surroundings, scanning the inside of the lobby. "I think it would be a good idea if I go around and check out the rest of the building, just to make sure there is no one else here and that it's secure."
"Let me come with you," I urged on a whim, feeling slightly impulsive and supercharged on adrenaline.
Tarax shook his head insistently, albeit compassionately. "No. I need you here, please — tending to the wounded."
His eyes scanned over our group. There were several people trying to nurse their superficial injuries, wincing in pain and trying to stay strong.
"Whatever you need me to do," I said. "Sure." I tried to keep my ego balanced. I brushed the hair off my face and planted my hands on my hips, sighing deeply. I gave Tarax a resilient smile to let him know I could handle just about anything.
Tarax's massive, sculpted body was silhouetted by a shadow, making him appear even more mystifying and somehow… also smolderingly sexy. His bronze skin was effervescent, even in the darkness.
It was cold inside the main lobby, and it smelled somewhat musty. There were some graffiti markings on the wall and an old brown and tattered couch in the corner that had one of the arms missing. There was an empty pizza box laying open and face up, haphazardly on one of the main staircases leading up to the second floor.
The air was damp and heavy. However, at this point anything was better than being out there in the open — vulnerable and exposed to those robot monsters.
"I'll be right back," Tarax said, pulling his gun out from his space suit holster. He looked at me. "Make sure you keep yourself armed, too."
I patted the side of my uniform. "I'm good, don't worry."
As a firefighter, we weren't armed with guns, but Tarax had given me this gun for protection right before we'd flown off into the hostile, robot infested sky. I'd been trained to use a gun, and I was confident I could protect myself and the rest of our group with it if I needed to.
"Keep your dispatch radio on the second frequency," Tarax said. "That way I can call for backup if I need to."
I glanced down at the walkie talkie. The green light blinked. "It's on and ready."
Tarax gave me an endearing smile. His exotic eyes flashed with resilience. "Thanks. I'll be right back," he promised.
Once Tarax jogged away, I tried my best to start helping people who needed it. I was still trying to wrap my head around what was happening out there. The chaos and destruction still seemed so surreal.
David had been assigned to our group too. He was sitting off to the side, by himself. He was rocking back and forth. He looked even paler than usual, and I could tell by the grimace on his face that he was in a lot of pain. His eyes kept fluttering closed, too, which I found disturbing. His body went limp. He stopped rocking and he weakly laid down on the cold, concrete floor.
I approached him warily, feeling worried.
"What happened to you out there?" I asked, standing over him.
David glanced up at me and blinked, attempting to focus in on me.
"What…" he trailed off.
I knelt beside him. "David? It's me, Grace. Tell me what hurts."
He had a cut above his eyebrow. It was bleeding heavily. I took a cloth from the duffel bag of emergency supplies. I'd snatched it off the back of one of the firetrucks right before we'd left.
I gently touched the cloth to David's head to blot away some of the blood, and then I firmly pressed on the wound to prevent it from bleeding harder.
David took his uninjured arm and tried to swat my hand away. I didn't think he was consciously doing it. I knew he was dazed and disoriented, judging by the confused expression on his face. His eyes closed again, and his mouth hung open. it concerned me that he was having trouble staying awake.
"I'm just trying to help you, David," I said with blatant frustration.
David looked away from me and stared at the wall for a few seconds before his eyes closed again.
"You're arm looks like it might be broken," I said, pointing to how his forearm was bending inward in an awkward, unnatural way.
David glanced down. His eyes widened in shock and horror. "No wonder it hurts so bad."
"We can wrap it in a splint," I suggested, patting the duffel bag of supplies.
I sat down next to him with a heavy sigh and unzipped the side compartment of the bag, reaching in for a temporary fix to his arm.
"Come on. Let me see it. You can't solve this problem by yourself, David — no matter what you think."
David tightened his jaw and looked away again, staring sullenly at the wall. He started breathing rapidly. His chest rose and fell with panic. I was concerned for his overall wellbeing. When I tried to touch his arm, he squirmed away from me.
"Can you try to sit up?" I asked. I was just trying to keep him awake. "You can lean against the wall while I work on your arm."
David nodded, but he looked fearful, and he held his breath as if he were too scared to move.
"Can you hold pressure with this cloth to your head wound?" I asked.
David furrowed his eyebrows worriedly. "Is it bad?"
I hesitated. "It might need stitches, but I can put a gauze band aid over it in the meantime." I couldn't lie to him. He'd see the truth in my eyes anyway.
David broke out in a nervous sweat. His expression became dazed, and his eyes became delirious. His eyes roamed around the lobby of the bank with skepticism.
At least he was becoming more alert. He could get angry and scared all he wanted, we all reserved that right, but anything was better than watching him drifting in and out of consciousness. Up until a few moments ago he could barely keep his head up.
I took several bandages and a split from the duffel bag. I made eye contact with David.
"I'm going to start this process," I said. "Just try to stay as still as possible."
David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A sweat ring had dampened the edges around the collar of his shirt.
I lightly brought the splint under his arm. He sucked in a sharp breath as I put a little pressure on the wounded area. Slowly and methodically, I circled the bandage around his arm, all the while holding the splint in place at the bottom.
"I'm sorry if it hurts," I said.
David's face was ashen. He looked like he might even be sick. I prayed he wouldn't vomit all over me. He said nothing, but he let me keep working.
"Alright," I said a couple minutes later. "I'm just going to clip the bandage in place and then you'll have your makeshift splint. It's the best I can do for now."
David glanced down at his arm with trepidation, as if he were afraid of what he might find. His features relaxed when his eyes landed on the splint.
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. It hurts, but I know this is better than nothing."
We smiled at each other. I appreciated the moments, however few and far between they were, where David wasn't acting like a total asshole. He had moments in him where he could be a decent human being.
I walked around the lobby and began checking through the rest of the people who were in our group, making sure they were alright. We had a set of robots, or robo Knights as Tarax had called them that had followed Tarax to clear the building, and there were also several of them guarding the windows and doors around us on the bottom floor.
A few minutes later, footsteps thundered through the hallways and became louder as they approached the main lobby. I stiffened, hoping that it would just be Tarax returning.
When I saw him, I was flooded with a sense of relief. We made eye contact, and my heart galloped.
A fierce sense of safety rushed through me. His muscles contracted as he moved. He was fluid and precise, like a born leader. I felt a sense of deep attraction to him. I wanted to believe it was mutual, but there was no time to dwell on it.
I felt David's burning gaze beside me. I ignored the resentful way he stared at me. I refused to take his bait, refused to look back at him and ask him what the hell his problem was, because I had the sneaking suspicion it was about Tarax, anyway. I wasn't in the mood to argue with David.
Tarax addressed the group.
"There is no one else here. We are safe, for now."
"We need to get upstairs," I advised, looking at Tarax to remind him about what we'd already discussed. "The vault rooms will be virtually impenetrable."
Tarax nodded and started to speak, but David spontaneously stood up and cut him off.
David straightened his poster. He tightened his jaw. He stared at Tarax with defiance and defensiveness.
"David…" I hissed through clenched teeth. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be." I knew him well enough to know that he was going to start drama with Tarax.
David ignored me… just as I'd expected him to.
"I know these Chicago streets better than anyone. I grew up around here and?—"
Now it was my turn to cut him off. "I grew up around here too, David, as I'm sure many other people in our group did. That doesn't mean we have all the answers. We're under attack by an alien robot force. All bets are off."
David scoffed. "So, we're supposed to immediately do everything that this fucking alien tells us?" David pointed to Tarax. "Who the hell made him boss? Why does he get to take charge?"
David sounded like a bratty child. It was humiliating me.
Tarax's teal eyes narrowed, and his face was cast in shadows that darkened his features. It made him appear intimidating and brooding. "Like I said before, I'm a Space Knight, patrolling the space lanes?—"
"Yeah, whatever…blah, blah, blah," David droned, rolling his eyes. "Quit your yapping. If you want us to trust you then you need to prove it."
"He's trying to prove it but you're not even giving him the chance , David," I countered. "He got us this far."
"No, you got us this far," David reminded me. "By suggesting the abandoned bank in the first place."
"Please don't argue with each other," Tarax urged.
He took on an assertive posture and stared at each one of us with a firm glance. "I know more about what these androids are capable of than you do. I strongly advise you to listen to what I have to say. If you aren't ready to give me your complete cooperation, then you don't belong in this group. Maybe it's not for you, and you should try your luck out there alone instead." There was no mistaking the resentment in Tarax's voice.
The room was dead silent. Nobody said a word, or even dared to breathe. The tension was weighing heavy on my shoulders.
"I think you're lying," David said.
I stiffened and cringed, wishing that he would just shut the hell up, but I had a better chance of rewinding time and stopping the attack than I did of getting David to follow anyone else's commands, especially if it was another guy like Tarax that he felt threatened by.
Tarax stared at David, unblinking. He frowned. "What do you think I'm lying about?"
"I don't think you really know what you're doing. I think it's all a sham. You are just as scared shitless as the rest of us."
Tarax contemplated. I marveled at his uncanny way of staying calm no matter how persuasively David tried to break him.
"Please go on, then," Tarax said and gestured around the lobby to the group of confused people. Everyone was just waiting for the argument to end so they could get instructions on what to do next.
Tarax continued, "If you think your own leadership skills are better than mine, then let's hear your ideas. I'm listening."
David wasn't expecting this kind of response from Tarax. He stared at him, stunned and bewildered. I knew he wanted fists to fly and teeth to break, to prove himself the better, stronger man. Tarax wasn't having it. He wasn't going to stoop to David's level.
David opened his mouth to retort, something snarky, no doubt, but after several agonizing seconds, he slinked backward.
He offered nothing because he had nothing to offer in the first place. He stared at the floor, fuming quietly.
"I can put you on guard duty if you want," Tarax suggested, attempting to extend an olive branch to David.
David lifted his head and scowled at Tarax beratingly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You can go out on the roof with a gun for protection. Patrol for us," Tarax instructed.
"I'll go too," a man wearing blue and white flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt said, stepping up in front of the group. He put on a brave face and swallowed hard. "I want to help…"
Tarax glanced at the man for a beat. "Alright. You can do that. What's your name?"
"T-tim — it's — Tim," the man stammered, shifting his weight self-consciously. He scratched the back of his head. "Tim Selfini."
"Well, Tim Selfini… if you want to help guard the roof then I'm not one to stop a volunteer." Tarax's eyes looked kind when he smiled.
"Fine," David huffed, grumbling something inaudible under his breath, but he otherwise made no further protest against the plan. "Let's just get on with this bullshit, then."
"I can help escort everyone to the vault room," I suggested to Tarax as we got a moment alone, off to the side of the group. "Then I can make sure everyone who still needs help for minor wounds is going to be okay."
Tarax's teal eyes shone with bright admiration. "That sounds great to me, and I'll be with you too."
I wasn't the type of woman who needed a man's approval for anything… but I'd be lying if I said that getting that unspoken approval and kindness from Tarax sure made me feel good.