The Liberator

30 Inside

I feel the crash of fists in my back, the splinter of a kick in my side. Teeth tear at my skin, and hands claw at my throat. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m tired of hiding from these people. Tired of running.

I remember Charlie the way I left her this morning, the way she looked at me with fear. I detest that. I detest seeing her afraid and being unable to ease it. Now I can. I grab the next fist I see and spin until I hear joints pop. Then I turn on the next siren, a girl my age. I grab her hair and throw her to the ground.

A siren twice my size wraps his burly arms around my chest. I use what Kraven taught me, throwing my heel back into his kneecap. The man collapses with a guttural groan. I leap over him and throw my elbow into a siren’s nose. Blood sprays across his cheeks, and a smile lights up my face.

I’m doing well. Surviving. Taking them down one at a time. But the problem is that they keep getting back up. Their goal was to get past me to Charlie, and maybe to Aspen, but now they’re focused on me alone. They’re angry. And an easy way to alleviate that fury is to take me down.

They move like a flock of birds. One guy, the one who first stepped over the ledge, races toward me. The others follow his lead and fly forward. Together, they hit me like a wall. I land on my back, and rocks dig into my muscles.

I kick and flail—all arms and legs like an overturned beetle—but they easily overtake me. The first punch feels special, like I’ll remember it a thousand years from now. But the rest blend together until the pain becomes all that I am. Even places they haven’t touched scream out.

Then they stop. One at a time, they stop. Above me, their faces pull away until I see the blue of the sky again.

I try to get to my feet but nothing works. My body is broken.

Kraven moves toward the sirens. His lips curl back, and his eyes blaze, and he may be a liberator, but he looks like a monster.

The sirens seem to understand he’s the bigger threat, considering I’m a bloody heap of tissue and bone. They charge toward him. I pull myself up as much as I can. I have to help. If we fight together, then we may have a chance to overcome them. But I know that’s a lie. There are too many. All we can hope for is to send them back to their caves along the cliff wall.

The sirens close in. They’re only a few feet away. Why isn’t Kraven moving?

Move!

A shadow crosses Kraven’s face and I see it—his rage. The temper he swallows every day. But he’s not going to swallow it now.

The liberator curls in on himself, his arms wrapped around his stomach, head between his knees. A burning smell fills my nostrils.

And then he explodes.

His entire body opens like a thundercloud, and wings burst from his back. A glow wraps around his torso like the sun is pointing a finger straight at him. And he growls. He growls like a tornado and moves like one, too. Sirens scurry backward, but he storms after them, throwing them like they’re made of nothing. They are nothing next to him.

I get to my feet, but my legs are shaking. I’m not sure whether it’s from injuries or from watching Kraven. As I stumble back, I think of how I was terrified the collectors would find Charlie. That they would get to her. I think of how the threat of the sirens kept me up at night, of how I pictured them slinking through the cracks to steal her away.

But seeing Kraven blast through sirens, I know there is nothing to fear. Not now. Not with him here.

A daring siren rushes forward, undeterred by Kraven’s wings. But the liberator just uses his wing like a battering ram and throws the siren twenty feet. When too many sirens charge him at once, he folds his wings around himself like a shield. Then he whips them open, and sirens fly up and out as if a bomb detonated at their feet.

The battle goes on for several minutes and all I can do is stand slack-jawed. I remember the way he fought the night the collectors took Charlie. But I didn’t have the time to really focus then; I was too worried about getting my girl out of there. Now, though, all I can do is watch.

One by one, the sirens admit defeat and scamper toward the ledge. I manage to throw a few hits in as they flee to ensure they keep running. When I glance back, a single siren remains. He stands before Kraven, determined. His hands twitch, and I notice he’s missing a finger. He was the first siren to appear, and he’ll be the last to leave. Kraven rushes toward him, and the siren bends at the knees like he’s going to leap over the liberator. When Kraven gets closer, the siren lunges. He doesn’t leap, he spins.

He spins so quickly Kraven loses track of him, and so do I. When I spot him again, he’s on Kraven’s back. The liberator cries out when the nine-fingered man gets ahold of Kraven’s left wing. He’s tearing at it with his hands, his teeth.

The liberator whirls around and around, trying to grab at the siren. I rush forward, ignoring the ache in my body. I’m almost to him when Kraven jumps into the air and slams onto his back. There’s a sickening crunch, and I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe because I’m afraid of what I’ll see when Kraven rolls off him.

Slowly, the liberator slides to his right. The siren scrambles to his feet, and my airway reopens. I don’t know why I was afraid of the guy being dead. I want them to be dead. Right?

I move forward to help Kraven subdue him. This is good, better than killing the dude. Now we can ask him questions, drill him until we know what the collectors’ plans are. Why didn’t I think of this before? Why didn’t Kraven?

My hand grips the siren’s biceps, but as soon as it’s there, his arm is ripped from my grasp. Kraven has his hands around the guy’s throat. The siren’s eyes bulge. I take two steps in Kraven’s direction, but he’s too quick for me. He rushes toward the ledge.

“You don’t belong here,” Kraven snarls.

He’s too close to the ledge.

Too close.

“Kraven,” I yell. “Stop. We need him.”

Kraven’s wings snap open so violently I almost lose my footing. He squeezes tighter, and the siren fumbles at his hands. But that’s wrong. Kraven taught us that never works. You have to be on the offense even when you’re playing defense. The siren should tear at his nostrils. Gouge his eyes. He doesn’t, though. The siren just keeps pulling on Kraven’s hands, and now his face is turning purple.

“You don’t belong here,” Kraven repeats, quieter. I can hardly hear him over the ocean.

The liberator takes another step toward the ledge, and the siren nearly tumbles over. He tries to turn his head to see how far the fall would be, but Kraven clutches his neck too tightly.

I can’t move. I can’t speak. I’m afraid if I do, Kraven will drop him.

And he can’t do that.

He can’t.

Big Guy would declare war on hell if a collector killed a human. So what would he do to one of his own? Someone that’s supposed to work for him?

“You don’t belong here.” Kraven’s voice is calm. “You belong in hell.”

He throws the siren.

He throws the nine-fingered man who may have lost his finger on a fishing trip with his daughter. He throws him, and the siren’s body seems to float in the air for a single moment, his face twisted with terror.

And then he falls.

The man is gone. The human is gone. Dead.

Kraven turns and looks at me, and my blood runs colder than the winter breeze. His eyes are black as night, and his hair is almost white against the sky.

I can’t believe what he just did. What will happen to him? Will his cuff be removed? Will he be tossed into hell himself? But then I remember something Kraven said. They’re soulless.

Does that make a difference? Does Big Guy only care about those he can still save?

I decide yes.

Kraven rushes toward me, and even though instinct tells me to flee, I hold my ground. When he gets within a few feet of me, I don’t step back. Instead, I lift my chin to meet his gaze straight on. Kraven closes the distance between us and grabs my biceps. He drags me behind him as he heads toward the house, his wings still splayed open.

“Let go of me,” I bark. “I’m not a child.”

But he doesn’t. He just keeps pulling me until we’re inside the house, until we’ve woven through hallways and rooms and we’re back in the training area. At that point, I jerk back. I don’t care whether my arm pulls out at the socket, I won’t be manhandled. If it’s a fight he wants, I’m game. Even if I can hardly stand.

I rip my biceps from his grasp. He whirls around, and his wings sink behind his shoulders. A cracking, snapping sound tells me he’s brought them back into himself. I open my mouth to fire out questions, but he cuts me off by grabbing my shoulders.

“What are you holding on to?” His voice crashes over me. “Say it.”

I try to pull away but he won’t let go. “Get away from me.”

“Let it go!” he roars. “Let it go, or you won’t save her.”

“Get off me.” It’s all I can say. All I can think. “Get off me. Get the hell off me.”

“Tell me what it is! Say it!” Kraven rears back, and before I comprehend what he’s doing, his fist connects with my jaw. The world spins, and I’m falling. I hit the training mat and roll onto my side.

“Son of a bitch.” I groan and clutch my face in my hands. I’m not sure whether Kraven is planning on hitting me again, and I’m not about to lie around waiting to find out. I get to my feet. My vision blurs before focusing. “You want to wrestle, Miami? That’s fine. But you better be ready to breathe your last, because I won’t stop until your broken cuff is in my hands.”

A guttural sound rips from my throat as I lunge at him. He sidesteps me and circles an arm around my chest.

“Stop fighting me, Dante.” He squeezes until my ears ring. “Let it go.”

I try to throw my head back, but he cocks his own to the side. I end up head-butting his shoulder, which does absolutely nothing. My heel slams down, but he pulls his foot back. I was expecting he’d know this was coming. But I know he won’t expect this.

I leap up and curl my knees toward my chest. Kraven is pulled off balance and crashes to the floor. He falls on top of me, and my face smashes into the ground. Doesn’t matter. He’s let go of me, and that’s all I care about. I scramble away from him, then kick his face, hard. His nose crunches beneath my boot.

Once I’m upright, I jerk into a fighting stance. “Come on, Cyborg!”

A faint burning smell hits my senses, and my mind puts the pieces together. Burning smell equals wings. I’m not sure when I figured that out, but I almost wish I didn’t know what was coming next.

I hobble toward the exit, my right leg dragging behind me. When I look over my shoulder, I see Kraven flying—flying!—across the room. His white wings spread out like a cloud. If I were looking at his wings alone, I might think he seemed peaceful. Innocent. But one glance at his rigid face, lips wet with blood, tells me I need to brace myself for impact.

Kraven slams into me, and we roll across the training mat in a heap. He lands on top of me and forces my shoulders back. My head hits the padding with a dull thump. It’s the first time I realize how thin the blue mats are.

The liberator thrusts his face close to mine, so close I can see the pink of his gums as his lips peel back. “Let your demons go.”

My heart hammers against my rib cage. All I can think about is getting him off me. Over and over I think about escape, because if I don’t think about escape, then I’ll think about what Kraven is saying, and I can’t do that.

Kraven’s chest inflates, and his words boom like a semi-sonic blast. “I said, LET IT GO!”

I snap. A thousand suppressed memories roll over me. I drown in them. “I can’t!”

I’m not sure I’ve said anything at all until Kraven growls again. “Why not?”

“I can’t let go of my demons because I am a demon. Because I’ve always been a demon. I’m bad. There isn’t something inside that I can let go of, because it’s all I am.”

Kraven jerks my shoulders up and slams me back down. “Tell me why, demon! How do you know?”

“Because they didn’t care. Because my parents didn’t give a damn. They said they loved me but where were they? Where?! They didn’t want to be around me. That’s how I know I’m bad, motherfucker, because even my parents didn’t want to touch my ass.”

There it is.

My darkness.

It’s something I’ve carried around inside me since I was a child. Something I didn’t dare talk about. My temples are wet with something. Tears, maybe. I don’t know. All I do know is that I have to get out of here, or I’ll suffocate. I throw my leg up and bring it right into Kraven’s jewels. He falls off me and lands on his side, groaning

I get up and head toward the door. This time Kraven doesn’t stop me. I feel the weight of what I just said sitting on my shoulders like a gorilla. All the memories I keep of my parents are the good ones. The time my dad finally took me on a trip with him. The time my mom made me meat loaf because I told her I liked it. But what about the others?

What about when my dad forgot my birthday year after year? What about when my mom forgot to pick me up from school when she promised she would? And I mistakenly believed her…again. I never stopped wanting them to pay attention, to notice me. And I hate myself for that. I hate it. I didn’t want to love them. I didn’t want to care what they thought.

But I did.

I believe they loved me. From a distance. When they had time. I try to tell myself that my dad cares now. He came to see me when I got cuffed as a liberator. And he left the ivory pendants for me and Charlie. That’s something, right?

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I guess in the end, I returned their affection accordingly. After all, I made my father a corpse and my mother a widow.

You’re welcome, Mom.

You’re welcome, Dad.

Do you see what a good son I am?

I throw my fist into the wall beside me. The pain feels good, reminds me that I have pain all over—in my muscles, my bones, my eyes. But still the memories sit on my shoulders. They press me down until I can hardly walk. Press, press, press.

But I suddenly realize something, and when I do, I stop cold.

The weight isn’t inside of me anymore.