Chương 66: Sandbox

There were no words left. No one would talk to me. I wouldn't talk to anyone. It was just the quiet slipping noises of the diodes being pulled off of me by Sam. Multiple times, she'd open her mouth, make something close to half of a noise. Each time, I'd look at her. Looked past her. At the mask on the table behind her. The one stained in Casney's blood. The same blood as the person I killed, as it's the only blood anyone has. Thought it was helping me. Wasn't. Just yanked me back down into Hell again.

I've been persistently deluding myself every time that fucking thing was near me. Those thoughts seemed to beam out of my eyes every time I looked in that direction. After the fourth or so time, it was enough to scare her out of even trying anymore. When she got to removing the device from my neck, she finally found the spine to whisper out a "Sorry," but didn't let the word carry. More like dropped it out of her pocket and hoped I'd hear it only after it clattered on the floor and she was halfway across town.

Except she wasn't. She was still in that room with me, worried about how I'd react to her. How I'd react to the fact she put a goddamn shock collar on me and didn't warn me. Inside me, there was this boiling feeling. Something that wanted reprisal. This burning ship that would take any port in a storm. I would be the world's worst liar if I said there wasn't a conscious part of me that pondered it. Just recognizing how easy it would be. But I saw what people who did things that looked easy looked like.

That old bastard who used me like a punching bag, and kept trying to call it quits the second he could feel an ounce of what he did to me. The other old bastard who knew to just withhold potentially turning me normal so that he'd have a fresh cudgel against whatever forces he deemed evil. The psychopath who thought giving up your mind to trees would solve all the world's problems. The room itself was in that research center, warehouse, whatever the Hell they decided to list it as.

It wasn't the training room, it was some little white room I didn't spot. While the interior was all white tiles and blue light, the exterior was cheap plywood. Outside of that training room, it felt like this place was built to be broken down as quick as possible. I wondered why. Maybe a pizza delivery guy could be a leaker if he saw an open door, so they needed to be ready to screw. There were windows that let us see outside of the room. About twenty feet away was a TV, with two people standing in front of it.

Footage of a tree broken out of the concrete. Seemed to be in an urban area. Looked familiar to Charlottesville. Wasn't hard to put two and two together.

"They're starting to move," I muttered. Sam almost flinched at those words.

"W-what?"

"The ADU." I nodded towards the TV on the other side of the window. She looked in the same direction, leaning forward to try and see.

"Oh. Oh, I see. I mean-""It's because of me."

"L-Leo I don't think-""It's because of me, Sam." I exhaled, the collar finally off of my neck. Finally free from that hanging over my head.

"Probably caught wind of the bodycam footage. Knew we'd be in a PR shitstorm that would leave me out of action, and May's..." I trailed off, not wanting to admit what I was responsible for.

"... So they're attacking, now. When it's just Chris and Jairo. They're not gonna-""Leo!" My gaze snapped back towards Sam, her face stern.

"You can't just- you can't keep dwelling on this. You gotta focus on you right now, okay? Please." She didn't have to add it on. I knew what was dangling on the end of that request. Because she was scared I'd lose control again from the stress. That's what they were always worried about.

"Whatever. Is all the crap off?"

"Yeah," she acknowledged, trailing off. I didn't bother with any further conversation, getting out of my seat and storming out of the room, leaving her and the mask there. Didn't wanna be anywhere near the fucking thing. Defying any suggestion to not dwell on it, I decided to watch the TV. The two suited individuals also watching it gave me a wide berth. Was used to it. Seemed the tree had just busted out of the ground near a low-population part of Charlottesville. No reported injuries yet.

The trunk was thick and stumpy, maybe twelve to thirteen feet tall. The roots were tearing through pavement like it was sand. No credit had been taken yet, according to the reporters. Didn't need any credit for us to know it was ADU.

"Growing a pair of balls, they are." Tancred.

"Don't talk to me," I warned.

"Just making an-""Tancred." I turned to him.

"I'm not gonna repeat myself a third time. Don't talk to me right now." He looked so much smaller from this position. I was already taller than him, but it just seemed even more apparent. He said nothing, turning his gaze back to the TV. Walking past him, I trudged out of the warehouse in hopes of the van still being there. Much to my luck, it was and so was Billy, who was flicking through his phone.

"Can you take me back to the base?" I inquired.

"Probably shouldn't, but Tancred's not giving me any timeline on when he's done in there, which means..." The driver clicked his tongue as he trailed off.

"Probably hasn't gone through his routine yet."

"Routine?"

"Usually what happens with a meeting with Agent Casney is that he wastes maybe ten minutes failing to do paperwork before sticking his nose in Casney's business. They both stew for like twenty minutes, then they fight, then Tancred actually does his paperwork. What's the last thing you saw him do?" This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Try to make small talk with me when I was trying to watch the news." He clicked his tongue again.

"Okay. Probably like forty-five minutes? Should be enough time to drop you off, then head back while grabbing me and him some coffee. I got hooked on this Albexican place's café expreso an-" I was just watching him, hoping that my silence would move things along. He picked up on it, letting the sentence cut off there.

"... Let's get you home." We both clambered into the van and took off, the world around me flying by lazily. Felt almost like I was under water in that moment. Kind of wished I was.

"You know, I think sometimes..." Billy started, already trailing off.

"... I think about if I've screwed up at some point in my life. Like really screwed up. Maybe I could've done something better, said something, refused to do something. Part of me regrets the whole driving thing but like I got to use flamethrowers and I get paid a lot of tax dollars for much easier work than I used to. So clearly that part was right." Didn't bother looking at him, I just tried to ignore him in hopes of his rant ending.

"But then I think to myself...

'What would I do different? What change could I have made?' And I go through a bunch of those big crossroads options most people go through. And every single one of them, if I changed even one thing, I wouldn't have my career. I wouldn't have my knowledge, or skillset, or my pet iguana. And that stops me." There had to be some delusion he was under that I was interested in being his therapist.

"And I think about that, I consider it. There's been some bad, but my life is the best it's ever been otherwise, even with all the shit going on. There are people who do everything right, to the letter, and still end up in much worse positions than I'm in." Oh, God.

"What are you trying to tell me, Billy?" I finally asked, my gaze focused on the cars passing us.

"Nothin'. We don't really have a close bond, I'm in no position to give you any sort of insight or advice that'd seem reasonable. I'm just thinking out loud. Why, any of it sound familiar to you?" Sitting up proper, I looked at him.

"You're trying to make me not focus on my regrets."

"Well, no, not really. Hate to make it sound like this but it ain't all about you, man. If it were about you, I'd say it's about you. You're owed that decency. You've made it clear you keep your business your own. Just because what I say sounds like it might be good for you is your business. It isn't mine, I promise!" In spite of his protests, he was giving me some kind of smirk. All I could do was roll my eyes and look back out the car window.

Maybe whatever was on the road would keep my attention away from the noise he was spewing out.

"Twenty-two."

"Huh?"

"My first was uh, I was twenty-two years old. Iraq, 2000. I was engineer on a truck that was distributing a bunch of goods to a few villages that were pretty remote and otherwise could only get resources in return for sending able-bodied men to some KDP splinter group. We were still pretty wrist-deep in peacekeeping, trying to soften the civil war tensions through countering scarcity." Sedans and vans skated on by, not a care in the world shown on them. Maybe behind their doors there was something.

"Too much backstory, uh. Anyways. I was handling the truck while four of my buddies were hauling boxes out while our interpreter coordinated. Water purification tablets for their well, rice, things like that. This guy, maybe Tancred's age, comes out of a house with a sword and starts yelling up and down." I pondered the undulations and waves of the powerlines floating up and down, doing my best not to take in this information. Didn't need it.

Didn't want to risk an accident by forcing him to shut up, easy as it could've been.

"Terp said the last time we dropped stuff off, it had collagen from pig fat in it. That we weren't paying attention to who they were helping and that we basically spat in their faces."

"Billy, I don't-""De-escalation fails. He starts swinging, takes terp's nose clean off, cuts into the right armpit of one of the guys. We're panicking, I had just yanked my rifle up and shot him. Dead instantly." Really didn't need this.

"They don't die like in the movies, when they're shot. They tense up, slouch over, then slowly just tumble into themselves. I see it every night." My patience fell out from under me.

"Why are you telling me this?" There was some silence for a moment. Looking at the faded reflection in the window, I could see a pensive look on Billy's face.

"I told you that Tancred and I bonded, and it's why he hired me onto the GRS, yeah? It was over this. I told about how I see it every night. I was given the offer the following month. I asked why, and he said 'Because you still remember your first. Remorse saves lives.' I think about it a lot. I don't really know your relationship with Tancred, but just... if he's saying that to a guy who can't be a superhero... maybe he's just not sure how to say it to one who can."

"Doubt it," I flatly answered. I could see him shrugging in the reflection.

"I dunno. I got to see his point in action. All my buddies didn't feel remorse about what had gone down. They made jokes about it. Even the guy who got cut in the armpit. Lost function of his right hand and he was laughing at the guy's corpse because, well, your body relaxes and natural things happened. Terp even made a few snipes about it." He didn't wait for a response from me.

"One-armed bandit killed his wife, daughter, and himself about three years later. Just months after he finished his five year tour. One guy's in a huge hearing right now for drinking and driving and hitting two kids. Terp turned out to be doing stuff with kids in the villages. We found out when we found what was left of his body after one of the parents got to him." A bit of a sad chuckle from him.

"Not a drop of remorse from any of 'em, and they sure did the opposite of save lives. Bit unfair of me to use anecdotes as evidence but... stops really feeling like a coincidence when you see it three times." It was all just words that didn't mean anything for me. Killing someone who was trying to kill others, intentionally, was a lot different than what I had done. That guy with the sword chose to swing it. I still had no idea if that man in the tree monster's body wanted to be there. I'd never know.

That's what was staying with me every night. The ride was quiet after that. He finally got the hint from whatever look was on my face. The van stopped in front of the office. Getting out, I could hear Billy instructing me to use the secret entrance, but I just went through the front doors. I didn't care. I wasn't a superhero at that point. There was no identity to hide, so it didn't matter.

Trudging my way down towards my room, I stopped in the common area when I saw May there, sitting in a wheelchair and reading a book. An ignorant part of me took over.

"How did you even get a wheelchair down those stairs?" She looked at me with an exasperated gaze. Reaching behind her, she procured one of a pair of crutches that she extended, showing the full proportions of it.

"I can go down stairs with these. Wheelchair's just for easy moving around in the common areas. Chris and Jairo helped me distribute a few of them in different areas so I only need to hop between rooms." May then collapsed the crutch again, slipping it behind her wheelchair. There must've been a sling or slot there. My gaze moved down to her feet. Foot. Was still getting used to that. She didn't even give me a chance to dwell on it.

"Don't start getting mopey because of this. I'm the one who ran out there when I don't move fast like you or Jairo. I'm getting enough guilt trips from the entire building. At least the angry brooding thing lets you stand out. I don't need your pity."

"Okay," I conceded.

"Where's Chris and Jairo now?"

"Suited up, they're going to help with investigating that tree that popped up." I nodded, without any intent for further discussion. It was a quiet trudge to my room where I immediately fell into the bed, my gaze fixated on the window into my own massive aquarium. I observed the fish, envying their inability to feel remorse.