The three metahumans waited impatiently in orange plastic chairs to board the plane back to Cairo. The plan was simple: go home, regroup and devise another plan.
Though Creed had dry-swallowed one of Sloan’s migraine meds, exhaustion and the threat of the ice pick pain behind his eyes had Creed feeling the need to doze off. The chair looked way too small for him but he unfolded his long, thick legs and stretched them out, crossing his ankles. His arms were crossed, too. The sunglasses he’d purchased from the small gift shop were doing their job blocking the brightest of the airport lights. And the sound blocking earbuds he’d shoved in place were working as well as he could hope.
“I’m going to try to sleep this headache off, guys. Wake me when it’s close to boarding, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Alik nodded, trying to keep the worry for his brother’s pallor off his face.
Creed allowed his chin to drop to his chest.
Alik and Farrow talked in hushed tones beside him. They still had at least an hour to kill before boarding would begin.
Within minutes, Creed’s breathing was slow and deep.
“I’m worried about him,” Farrow said simply.
“Me, too.”
“Listen, I’ve known Creed, or at least of him, for a long time. Meg changed him. He was always pure soldier—the elite among us.” She shook her head slowly looking over at the sleeping giant. “He was always formidable, but after being exposed to the original serum back in Hawaii…”
“I know. Now he’s a beast of a fighter,” Alik nodded, “but he’s my brother first.”
“Of course, he is. I just don’t think he’s going to bounce back without her, Alik. Meg taught him to feel, to move outside his soldier-self, he’s even more powerful…”
“And a danger to himself now that she’s gone,” Alik finished.
“Exactly. He’s my friend. He and I will always have the shared memories of life at the Facility, such as it was. He feels like my brother, too.”
Alik leaned toward Farrow, his lips millimeters from her ear. “I’m afraid we’re losing him,” he whispered.
Farrow nodded slowly, chewing her bottom lip as though she had a hundred things she was dying to say, but was forcing herself to choose her words carefully. “I will always stand beside you, you know that, right?”
Alik focused on her beautiful, heart-shaped face and nodded, “Thank you, Farrow.”
“We will track Meg to the ends of the earth, you and I—I’m in this for the long haul. I just need to know what to expect from you if we find the worst-case scenario has come to pass.” Farrow’s eyes darted toward Creed wanting to be sure he hadn’t heard her.
Alik nodded slowly and looked down at his empty hands with frustration. “Once I have…” he swallowed hard, “confirmation that she has been killed, I will have to make some serious decisions. Do I search for her killer and avenge my sister or do I go home and take care of the family I have remaining? I don’t know, Farrow. I’ll have to do a lot of praying over that one, but not until it has come to pass. For now, I’m going to keep believing she’s alive and well.”
Farrow stared in the distance, deep in thought.
“As for Creed, I think we both know what he would do. Heck, I may have to chase him just to help him stay alive.” Alik shrugged his massive shoulders. “But Farrow, it’s possible that his weakness for my sister will be the one thing that saves her. Ralph Waldo Emerson said, ‘Our strength grows out of our weaknesses.’ I’m going to hold onto the hope that his abject determination will not only help us find her, but pull her back from the edge once we do.”
Chapter 50 Dark-Eyed Angel
She moved as if she were completely submersed in water behind the thick glass wall. Her pale skin seemed ghostlike and shown in stark contrast against her dark hair that moved as a living, undulating frame around her. Her dark eyes looked right through him as though he weren’t pounding on the outside of the glass encasement screaming her name.
Her usually expressive, dark eyes were a doll’s set of fake glass marbles. Their lack of expression was just as devastating as their inability to acknowledge him. Her black, blank stare cut his heart with a dull, rusted blade.
The harder he pounded against the glass, desperate to break it, the further she floated away. He watched her with a mix of terror and heartbreak as she moved; her flowing iridescent dress rippled silently around her—reminiscent of the iridescent blanket she had used as her healing gift on his charred soul a lifetime ago.
On his knees in defeat, he wailed in anguish. “Please come back to me! I can’t breathe! Please, Meggie. I’m broken without you!”
“Creed! Wake up, man.” Alik was shaking his shoulder hard enough to rock the whole row of connected plastic seats they occupied.
Creed opened his eyes but was still lost in the dream. He gasped for air.