Self Destructing Messenger

#4 - Game Over

Intern grinned as he slowly brought his gaze from the ceiling back down to Cayce. "No more distractions. The doctor will see you now."

"You aren't a doctor!" Cayce yelled. Intern shrieked in anger. "Yet," the mohawked man added. "Not a doctor yet. I'm sure if you keep-"

The spinning death shot towards Cayce once more. He recoiled, the blades grazing his chest and catching his shirt, winding the plaid fabric into the pieces of meat. Seeing this, Intern's crazed expression hit fever pitch and he willed the spinning to slow. Sadistically he drew Cayce closer to the mincing bone, his victim struggling in vain. Kicks fell short, as the idol's abnormality afforded him a safe distance. The first shards dug into Cayce's ribcage and he gnashed his teeth, trying not to scream.

Suddenly the blades stopped.

Face blanched, Cayce fought past the agony to see what was happening. Azalea had recovered. Her body was pressed along the side of Intern, the thin fingers of both hands digging into the madman's visage, forcing him to face her. He sneered, his muscles flexed, preparing to lash out. Before the unspoken threats could be fulfilled, Azalea shifted. Her opacity drained and as it did, Intern's face was wiped of awareness and his body went limp. She gasped as he slipped from her grip and fell to the floor. His weaponized arm tore free from Cayce's shirt, landing with a sickening wet slap against the laminate.

In the quiet that followed, the idol's ragged breath was deafening. While he was alive, it was clear by his glazed eyes that there was no one home.

The sirens that had been so faint earlier were becoming much more piercing. Cayce's throat tightened. His new friend had been much more adorable when he didn't know she could lobotomize people. Azalea was unsettled herself, unsure of what she had just done, but she knew there was no time to address it. At the sound of the first police car door slamming, the two put the tension aside and scrambled out the back, dog on their heels.

Cayce used up some favors to get them back on the road, namely borrowing a car from one his friends who turned out to be much more useful than he would have ever thought. It was a classless ride and even more cramped than the truck but it soon carried them past the city limits sign. The beginning of the ride had been a hair pulling event, both straining to see or hear any hint of authorities. When it became clear that there wasn't going to be a road block up ahead, they both started to breath again. The timing was good because Cayce couldn't hold back any longer.

"What the hell did you do to him? Who are you, I mean really? I nearly get assassinated and meet a wafer of a bodyguard in the same day? Spare me any bulls@!&." It poured out of him but he never took his eyes off the road.

"If there is some conspiracy at work, I'm not in on it."

"What part of don't bulls@!& me didn't you get?"

"I'm not," Azalea muttered feeling attacked.

"Then why were you at the nuthouse?" He asked, then added, "Aside from punching the doctor."

Azalea stared out the passenger window. "A ah voice told me to go."

"I'm sorry," Cayce said, looking at her for the first time since they started driving. "A voice?"

"Yeah." She shifted uncomfortably knowing how it all sounded. "Sometimes this voice speaks to me, directs me places, shenanigans ensue."

Cayce looked uneasy and decided to change the subject. "And what about Intern. What did you do to him?"

"I'm not one hundred percent sure," she began. "I tried to use my power on him, make him intangible so he couldn't keep drilling you like you are me right now."

"Oh you'll know when I'm drilling you. Why would that vegetablize him?"

"I think it might have to do with how my powers work. Imagine a line, like a string on a balloon that leads away from everyone's body."

"Okay."

"I shift my physical form along that line."

"Like... reverse astral projection?" He asked, glancing at her. It was cerebral. He was thinking, no longer feeling. It helped to stop his skin from crawling.

"Exactly. I've been thinking about it. Maybe I mistook his physical presence for his-"

"Soul." Cayce finished for her.

"Thanks. I never tried to use my intangibility on someone trying to kill me. I freaked out and dropped him."

"Huh." He tapped his fingers along the steering wheel, a simple act that grounded him in the otherworldly discussion. "Sorry," he said interrupting the silence that had overcome them. "I didn't mean to- its just that I've never had to deal with stuff like this. You saved my a#! back there and I'm thankful. Thanks."

"Its what I do," she said simply before turning back to the window.

The atmosphere a little lighter, Cayce could focus a bit more on their immediate issues. Foremost among them was their destination. Azalea said she knew of a safe haven and security was something they all could use a dose of. Perhaps there would be medical supplies. Cayce sure hoped so because the towel against his ribs wasn't cutting it. And a shower. God please have a shower.