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Cynthia Houston hadn’t always been such a light sleeper. She was sure there was a time, a great many years ago, when she could make it through a whole night without stirring, carried away by deep distant dreams. But decades with the American Secret Service had made her senses razor sharp and there was no time when she wasn’t on high alert. Even in the dead of night, the slightest bump woke her and immediately grabbed her attention.
The noises started around midnight. First the clink of the door lock breaking, then heavy footsteps entering the house. Whoever was downstairs was being far from subtle as they rustled through her cupboards. Cynthia sighed, pulled her dressing gown on over her pyjamas, and grabbed her loaded pistol from her drawer. She crept downstairs silently, going completely unnoticed by the intruder.
“Alright bucko, put your hands in the air and nobody gets-“ She stopped as she flicked on the light. Searching through her kitchen cupboards, was a familiar figure. Blood soaked his blue polo shirt, sweat dripped from his long black hair. The famous Curt Mega had stumbled back into her life once again and for a moment she could barely hide her shock. “Curt?”
“I can explain.” Curt panted.
“Jesus, Mega, I could have shot you.” Cynthia snapped as she put her gun down on the arm of her green sofa.
“Yeah well…it wouldn’t be the first time.” Curt smiled. Cynthia rolled her eyes. Just when she thought she might have finally got rid of him. Curt Mega was like a boomerang in human form. No matter how hard or how far somebody threw him, he always found his way back.
“Come here. Stop bleeding all over my counters.” Cynthia took Curt’s arms and guided him to an armchair. Under torn, stained fabric she could see the bullet hole just above his left hip. Luckily, there appeared to be only one and, if she worked quick, it wouldn’t become infected. “It’s not wise to go breaking into people’s houses, Mega.”
“I needed to patch myself up and I don’t think I have the strength to pry any shop shutters up. I wasn’t seeing any other options.”
“And you’re breaking wound treatment procedure. Keep your hands on it. Apply pressure.” She led his hands to the wound and gently placed them over it, allowing him to take over the rest. Curt winced but nevertheless obeyed. He knew better than to argue with Cynthia at any less than full strength. “Stay here while I get the first aid kit.”
“Where else would I go?” Curt scowled.
Cynthia headed to her bathroom medicine cabinet and grabbed as many bandages and paper towels as she could carry. Stupid man. Always getting himself hurt. She’d lost count of the amount of times he’d nearly died on her. She was sure he was going for some sort of record in amount and variety injuries. Gun shots (he’d had plenty of those, two thanks to her), stabbings, poisonings, beatings, electronation, and one case near drowning which she still hadn’t received a decent explanation for. She tried being harsh with him, cutting him with her words in the hope that he would someday get the message, but he never learned. At this point, the berating was more for her sake than his. As long as he saw her as cold and criticising, she could hide the truth, that her heart froze with fear every time she nearly lost him.
Maybe she was being unfair. It was partly her fault, wasn’t it? She’d been the one who was responsible for him. She’d known Curt from day one, back when he was a fresh faced eighteen-year-old ready to save the world. She’d recruited him, overseen his training, sent him on his first mission. She’d been the one to silently note the light in his eyes after he first met Owen. She’d mourned that light going out in the same silence. Had she missed a crucial step in those first few months? Had she somehow trained him wrong? Or perhaps she’d trained him perfectly, installing a foolhardy recklessness that couldn’t be stolen. He always bounced back, and he always completed his missions, though often in a very roundabout sort of way. He was the perfect agent in the worst sort of way.
She headed back downstairs and dumped the supplies by the side of the armchair. Without stopping she marched into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of golden liquid out of low cupboard.
“I don’t have any sterilising alcohol, so we’ll have to improvise.” She huffed as she turned back to Curt. He lay slumped in the chair, eyes closed, hands barely rested on the wound. The rapid rise and fall of his chest gave her the relief of knowing he was still alive, but his pale, clammy skin offered her little comfort. “Mega?”
“I’m here.” Curt grumbled. She approached with speed in her step and knelt beside him, unscrewing the lid of the bottle and taking one of the paper towels in her hand. The liquid soaked into the carpet as she haphazardly wet the towel. She paid it no mind.
“Try to stay awake.” She said as she rolled out the bottom of the dirty shirt. Seeing his skin wasn’t much more reassuring, but at least it looked like most of the blood was dry and not actively flowing.
“It’s been days. Can’t a man get a little shut eye?” He mumbled as he opened his eyes.
“Absolutely not. Here, I’m sure this will wake you up.” He winced as she pressed the cold, damp towel on his side. He gritted his teeth, trying to fight back tears, but couldn’t help letting a small cry of pain escape his lips. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure you’ll live.”
“Really? That’s a shame.” He groaned through pursed lips.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” She asked as she continued to clean the wound.
“I was ambushed going after Chimera. Didn’t even see the asshole.”
“Ah yes, Chimera. The silicon mining company.” She nodded.
“Not just silicon. They’re doing all sorts of stuff with computers now.” He added.
“The one that you think is trying to take over the world.” She reached for the clean white bandages and carefully pushed Curt forward. He was surprisingly easy to manhandle, though she expected he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to.
“I don’t think. I know. Owen said-“ The sting of the freshly applied bandages cut him off. He slumped himself back into the chair, letting himself sink into the fabric.
“Just because Owen said it doesn’t mean it’s accurate, Curtis.”
“Tati and Barb heard him too, you know? If you don’t believe me, you could ask them.” Curt scowled. Cynthia allowed herself a slight smirk. The use of Curt’s Christian name never failed to irate him.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I’m just saying that Owen was very unhinged the last time you saw him. Near delusional I’d say. Whatever nonsense he believed about Chimera isn’t necessarily worth getting shot over.” She explained.
“But what if there is something to it? I’m so close to a breakthrough, I’m sure of it.”
“It’s not worth dying for.” She snapped. Curt sighed.
“Do…you think Owen was wrong? Or that he exaggerated or….that he lied?” Curt muttered. Cynthia finished dressing the wound and stepped away.
“I think…I think that Owen was a broken man with a lot of strange ideas. And I think that you know better than to let yourself be dragged down with him.” She replied firmly.
“Right.” Curt grumbled.
“Get some sleep, Mega. I want you here for a few days, where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Is that an order?” He smiled.
“Yes, and you better follow it.” She nodded as she turned away. She stopped in the door, looking back to get one last check on the man. “I do have one last question.”
“Shoot…metaphorically that is.”
“How did you know where I lived?”
“I didn’t.” He laughed. “I just went for the nearest house that looked sheltered. Luck of the draw.”
“Curt Mega, you really are a favourite of the fates.” Cynthia chuckled. “Now rest. I want you as a fit as a fiddle by the end of the month.”
“Sure thing.” He yawned and settled down into the chair, quickly drifting off to sleep. Cynthia smiled sadly and headed back to her room. She didn’t sleep that night. She didn’t sleep the night after either. For three days she spent the time staring at her ceiling, keeping an ear out for anything that sounded wrong, her mind sick with worry. When Curt finally left her care, she went back to work with her own mission. From that day forward, she swore to find out everything she could about Chimera. Maybe they were just a regular corporation, maybe Owen was telling the truth, but no matter what, nobody got away with hurting Curt Mega.