Chapter 6 #2
Everyone else is occupied. My hand twitches toward the baton on my belt.
If I can just subdue him, even for a second, we’ll have an opportunity to take him down.
I take the baton out, my grip so tight it almost hurts, trying not to wonder if this was exactly what Vince thought before he bashed his own face in.
Barnes’s bloodshot, bulging eyes flick to me.
They struggle to focus for a moment before locking in on my face.
His lips move soundlessly and his hand twitches, catching my attention.
I follow his rigid fingers to the floor, where I spot a fallen syringe.
I stoop to grab it and keep walking toward X-16.
X-16 isn’t watching me as I step forward. He isn’t watching anyone. His head is in his hands, only his third eye visible, pure red as it rolls back in his head.
“Stop it!” His voice echoes throughout the room, unnaturally loud and distorted as though through water. “Get away from me!”
In the periphery of my vision, I see the others stumble back as if shoved by a great force. Ellis collapses on the floor against the wall as if someone threw him there. Barnes falls backward and lies convulsing on the tile.
I feel it too—the force of his words, the pressure. The order whispers in the back of my mind, repeating itself, burrowing into my skull. Get away. Get away. Get away.
But I force myself closer. Cold sweat pools under my arms, makes my palms slick as I grip the baton in one hand and the syringe in the other.
My breath comes in short gasps. My body screams like I’m throwing myself in the path of a moving truck or flinging myself over the side of a steep incline.
Every thump of my heart says danger, danger, danger.
But I force myself close enough. I lift the baton. I’ll hit him once to subdue him, then use the syringe—
X-16 notices me. Lowers his hands to reveal a pale face streaked with red. Crimson tears well up in his eyes and stream down his cheekbones to drip off his chin.
Barnes likened X-16’s episodes to a child throwing a tantrum. But I don’t see anger or malice in the monster’s face. His eyes are wide and watery, his lower lip trembling. He looks scared, flinching away as he sees the baton in my hand.
I hesitate. Instead of lifting the baton, I let it drop to the floor. I lurch forward once more and throw my arms around him.
“You’re okay,” I whisper, “X-16.”
He is rigid in my grip. Then slowly, so slowly, he melts against me. He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me against him as if I’m the only thing anchoring him in the storm.
The moment he lowers his head to my shoulder, I jab the syringe into the side of his neck and press the plunger. He stiffens for a fraction of a second and then goes limp in my arms.
I help carry Vince’s body out to the waiting coroner, sit through a brief medical examination, and then wait for Barnes to finish being treated so he can debrief me.
As I sit in his empty office, I try to process the events of the last few hours.
Vince is dead. Ellis is on his way to the hospital to treat his battered face.
Barnes is being checked for a concussion and treated for blood loss.
And I’m…fine. I’m completely unharmed.
I feel no relief at the fact. Guilt sits like a rock in my stomach. Again. It happened again. Why did I survive when Vince didn’t? Maybe if I had acted sooner, I could have saved him.
I hunch forward, head in my hands, forcing myself to take deep breaths.
The door opening makes me jump, but it’s only Barnes stepping into the room.
I straighten up, pushing my feelings down.
He holds out a folded jumpsuit—a fresh security uniform.
I blink at him, not understanding, until he gestures at me.
I look down and realize I’m still splattered with red from when X-16 collapsed against me, covering me in his bloody tears.
“Oh.” I clear my throat and take the change of clothes. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to change before we talk about what happened?”
I shake my head. Better to get it over with and accept whatever punishment I get for disobeying protocol.
“Tell me what happened today, Willow.”
Barnes is quiet as I explain the day’s events from my point of view.
The things I heard—and didn’t hear—over the radio, my choice to run to the lobby to ask for backup before returning to face X-16 myself.
He sits with his hands folded and his face creased in thought, even after my words die off and leave us in silence.
Finally, he says, “You did good today, Hawkins.”
I blink. “What?”
“To be honest, you saved our asses in there.” He leans back in his chair, still frowning. But contrary to what I expected, he isn’t angry at me.
I was so ready to face blame that I’m not sure what to do with praise. “I… I didn’t…” I start, but then trail off, swallowing a lump in my throat. “I didn’t save Vince.”
“That’s not on you, Willow.” His answer is immediate and firm. “I’m the one who was responsible for the team’s safety. Your job was to call for backup, and you did that, and more.”
I make a noncommittal noise, unsure what else to say. Unable to accept that I did everything I could.
“My only question is, how did you do it?” he asks, after a pause.
“I’ve never seen anyone get that close to X-16 during an episode.
I’ve never done it myself, and God knows I’ve tried.
” He rubs a hand over his face. “I’ve always been the one to subdue him in the past. I couldn’t today.
But you…” He lowers his hand and looks at me searchingly. “You did. How?”
I meet his gaze and slowly shake my head. “I don’t know.” Something occurs to me, and I bite my lip. “Ellis said something before, too. About feeling sick whenever he watches X-16 on the security camera.”
Barnes nods. “That’s part of the reason we keep it turned off. Most of the team can only handle a few seconds at a time before they start feeling sick. Some even less than that.”
“Well, it doesn’t happen to me,” I say. “I’ve never felt any side effects.”
“And when you visited him during your night shift,” he says slowly. “How long were you in there?”
“I don’t know…” I try to think back. “Five minutes? Ten?”
“And you didn’t feel anything?”
I shake my head. Barnes stares at me, speechless.
There’s an odd, electric feeling in my chest. My heart is starting to pound with something caught halfway between fear of the unknown and a dangerous hope.
All my life, I’ve wanted there to be a reason. A reason I survived as a child. A reason I survived today. Something more meaningful than mere chance.
“Barnes,” I say. “Whatever X-16 does to people… is it possible I’m immune?”