Chapter 8

A Manila Street Scene: It wasn't one of the congested main thoroughfares, but it was a fairly busy local street. The wide sidewalks to either side gave access to the many shops. One could get lunch at one the several food stands, or just a snack and a soda at the Sari-Sari store. A welding shop was next to a clothing store that was by the appliance repair shop, such was the diversity of commerce.

On a nearby side street the local teens were playing a game of pick-up badminton over a low strung power line. Others walked or rode in either the small motorcycles with sidecars known as tricycles, or the pedal powered smaller versions.

Above this scene, the buildings rose three and four floors above the street, giving the neighborhood something of a canyon feel. The upper floors were apartments of various sizes and the side of the buildings were a checkerboard of windows covered by a wooden latticework to protect them from typhoons.

Down on the street, a yellow cab had just dropped off a fare and the drive stepped out of his vehicle to get a bite to eat.

Before he got far from his cab, the bustling normalcy was shattered by a loud sound as one of the fourth floor windows exploded outward.

... Thin splinters of wood and shattered glass flew around us as we fell. I saw the yellow roof of a taxi rushing up to meet us.

I landed face down atop him. My knees hit the edge of the roof and erupted in agony as they exploded, bending the wrong way, my feet becoming entangled with the wreckage. Between the crumpling vehicle and him breaking my fall a bit, I was stunned, but remained conscious.

I was too stunned, or maybe too focused to be amazed I was still alive.

Ignoring the pain in my legs, I groped for his throat, pretty sure that he hadn't survived the landing, but unwilling to take any chances.

I heard someone screaming, well, shrieking, really.

My fingers found the back of his neck and my thumbs crossed over his windpipe.

I realized the screaming was coming from me.

I pulled his head up to look into his dead, staring eyes and my thumbs came together ... just to be sure.

The next thing I knew I was staring up at the ceiling of an ambulance, my world was awash with pain. A face came into view and when the eyes of that face locked with mine, they widened in horror. I thought I heard some loud Tagalog, but it was difficult to discern as that annoying shrieking scream was back.

The attendant popped the cap off a syringe and a few moments later the pain ebbed slightly and the edges of my vision began to blacken. That darkness soon filled my vision as it segued into nothingness.

I awoke in a fiery bath of agony. I would have screamed again but there was a large tube shoved down my throat. There was a doctor in my field of vision, he was holding defibrillator paddles and looking at something I couldn't see.

He looked down at me.

"Gising siya! (He's awake!) sedative, sedative now!"

I was once again wrapped in a warm, comfortable blanket of give-a-shit that quickly faded into oblivion.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was on a comfortable bed in a dimly lit hospital room. A warm fugue of narcotics enveloped my senses. Nurses came in, doctors came in, I was poked, prodded and invaded and right about the time I began making sense of the world around me, they gave me another sedative and sent me off to dreamland.

The next morning my mind was clear enough that the doctors allowed two police inspectors to question me.

I had killed Collins in a very, very public manner, so it was natural the police would have some questions. I stuck as close to the truth as I could without letting the whole psychic cat out of the bag. That was the usual fallback plan. When something like this happens, our people will try to get to the tracker first, but I had been unconscious so there was no way to get the story straight. In that event – just tell them where you've been and what you've been doing and that you are just a guy trying to help find a friend of a friend who had gone missing, in this case, Jenny.

I told them I had traced her to Boracay and when I found her, the man who'd taken her had slipped away and killed Anna while I tried to help the other girls. I then followed him to Manila and killed him as he attacked yet another girl. That was as close to the truth as we could get.

It was how the council should have had it staged.

It was.

There would be no charges.

Right after the police left, Mac came in.

"Boy oh boy, you sure do take the cake, Hunter. I've thrown marks out of windows before, but I've never followed them down just to make sure."

"And how many other jobs do you leave half done? ... not to change the subject, but, how's Elenita?"

Collins had been deep into her mind when I interrupted him – and I had killed him rather abruptly. I hoped there had been no mental blowback.

"He didn't hurt her, not physically – but she's not unscathed either."

"What do you mean?"

He had an odd look, almost pained.

"Best I can figure is that he was trying to find out about you ... mining her memories for everything she knew about you ... and then you came in ... and ... let's just say you went out the window with him in more ways than one."

"By that you mean?"

That pained look returned.

"She doesn't know you."

"What?"

"Every memory of you is gone – died when he did."

"Nothing?"

"She knows me, what I am, what we do, but as far as she's concerned, the first inkling she's ever had that you existed was when you busted through her door."

"Have you told her?"

"Not yet – figured that was yours to do. Empaths says there's no danger to it, but there's also no guarantee she'll fall in love with you again."

It had been a stroke of sheer luck she'd fallen for me the first time, and we were both different people now. Of course I could help things along with a few mind tricks and she would love me again.

But I knew what her real love felt like and some cheap, imitation love could not compare.

More to the point, it wouldn't be fair to her.

Then again...

Would that really matter if it came down to it?

If she didn't fall in love with me, would I be able to resist the temptation? Would I eventually decide that even though imitation love could not compare with the real thing, it would be better than no love at all?

We could try for a little while. Maybe she would fall in love with me again ... but if not ... could I possibly stay out of her head, allow her to move on and perhaps come to love someone else?

Shit ... that was a left turn even I could see coming a mile off.

Besides, I'd made a deal to accept whatever fate came my way if only the bastard would die before I did – he'd held up his side of the bargain, it was only right I did the same.

Of course, I thought it would my life that was forfeit, not Elenita's love.

In many ways, that was worse than death.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking it might be best to leave it alone."

"Leave it... ? Do you know how rare it is for one of us to fall in love? Hell – I thought it was whatever they did to us ... turns out it's just me ... you had it and maybe you can have it again, but not if you don't give it a chance."

"I had it and I still have it, I still love her, but I couldn't take it if she didn't..."