The Overly Complicated Life of a (Self-Proclaimed) Villain

Chapter 16

Elliot

I grappled for Bleddyn in the dark, soon my hand landed on a shoulder which was quickly followed by a yelp.

"It's me." I traced his arm till we locked hands. "See, just me." I squeezed our interlocking hands. "I'm guessing you have her?"

"He does," Chloe answered quietly.

I nodded out of reflex and looked around the room again, my eyes beginning to adjust in the darkness.

"Now that you are here," the voice clicked on again, "we might as well have some fun." I could hear clicks and immediately saw the red lights. I threw myself on the floor, dragging Bleddyn and Chloe along just as the gunfire started.

"Do you remember where the door was?" I whispered in Bleddyn's ear, ignoring the pain in my side. I could feel him nod and the three of us began crawling in a direction where the door, hopefully, was located.

The irony: a superhero and a supervillain, unable to fight, unable to see, and trying to work together. A year ago, I'd kill to be here right, granted I'd prefer being the sniper, not the target.

Just ten more seconds.

Giant needles punctured my skin, each second growing in diameter as my brain attempted to process the current situation. My elbows buckled under my weight. I kept moving, my jaw clenched.

I felt a wall. I was grappling everywhere, feeling for the warehouse door. Click. Bleddyn must have found it.

Light entered the room, scorching my newly adjusted eyes. The gunfire ceased and we were running on our feet. I did not take the time to take into consideration how odd the situation was. My parasympathetic system was churning and all I could think about was getting Bleddyn out. Each step made the needles larger, but I did not stop until we reached the car. Chloe flew into the back, Bleddyn hurrying to start the car, and I slumped in the passenger's seat.

"Injuries?" Bleddyn asked immediately after the doors locked.

"Not the time," I grunted, "I doubt they're finished with us yet."

"Drive!" Chloe pointed to the people coming out of the warehouse. They were loaded with heavy artillery and a very very recognizable logo. Bleddyn stepped on the gas and we sped out.

I would like to point out at this point how very flawed our plan was and how lucky we were. The Enemy had plenty of time to tag our car, place a tracker in it, even kill us on spot. These facts all point to one thing: they let us get away.

N.E.L.O.S. could have killed us, easily. They were purposefully aiming to lightly maim, maybe terrify. I should know.

But none of us died. Granted I was shot. But I had been shot before, in worse places.

Speaking of my wound. . . Pain brought me out of my mind and back into the car. The car which had stopped moving.

"Hey," a voice said, "Elliot, we are at the hotel. We got away!"

Yeah, sure. That's what they want you to think.

Me? I knew better.

So, N.E.L.O.S., what exactly did you have planned?

Bleddyn

I said hotel but I really meant to say "motel." We had to be inconspicuous and no one would bat an eye to three people, possibly wounded, crashing the night here. Chloe said she would stay in the car as I went and rented a room for the night.

It was not the worst place to sleep. I was so tired that I could not care less about bed bugs or bloodstains.

That is until I saw the bloodstain on Elliot's shirt.

I walked up to the car, waving the keys as a salute. Immediately I noticed Elliot. He was still in the passenger's seat, his skin, normally pale, was sallow and pain-stricken.

Something was wrong, something was very very wrong. I shook him awake saying we got a room and had literally no reason to stay in the car. He grunted and moved his arm to open the door. That's when I saw the spot on his left side, one arm pressing firmly, the other pushing the car door open.

"Elliot?" I jolted forward, concern spreading through me like a fire. Chloe looked at me oddly. "You've been shot."

"No shit, Sherlock."

I grabbed his arm and pulled him up out of the seat.

"It just grazed me, hurt like shit though," he said, obviously trying not to worry me. "That's why I didn't say anything before." He let out a hiss of pain as I began to lead him to our first-floor room.

"Come on, just a few more feet." I tossed the keys to Chloe as a way to tell her to open the door. She did and the two of us stumbled into the two-bedded room that smelled of Febreze-masked mildew. Elliot fell onto the tightly made bed as I began tearing fabric off of him.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Didn't I already answer that?" He motioned to his bag that Chloe just brought in. "Front pocket. I have a first-aid kit." I unzip the bag and begin digging through as fast as possible. "Hey, be gentle, my clothes are not Fisher-Price," Elliot quipped. I finally was able to pull out the kit.

"Okay, what do I do?"

"You are telling me you are a superhero and have never had to do this kind of thing?"

"Well you're the evil genius and I'm panicking!" I snapped.

He chuckled and winced. "Get the antiseptic and clean the wound." Elliot then lay down on his side, the wound facing me. There was so much blood, it was hard to believe this was a graze. I dabbed a cotton swab with the liquid and began whipping away the blood, trying to ignore the involuntary hisses that escaped his lips. "Now you need to dress it."

At least I knew how to do this part.

I grabbed the bandages and began wrapping it around Elliot's torso.

"It'll heal in a week. Like I said, just a graze," Elliot said, beginning to sit up. I backed up a little to allow him room to move. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"Not just for this," he began, "but for getting us out." I smiled at him.

"Couldn't have done it without you." He returned the smile.

Our eyes did not break until Chloe coughed.