Coma (Paranormal Romance) (11 page)

“That's hardly an evidence! You're acting on
a hunch, damn it!” I clenched my fist, imagining it clashing
against his shoulder.

“I was allowed to help you with the Fat-man,
wasn't I?” His eyes grew wide as he was staring at me, waiting for
me to acknowledge that fact.

“True, but that doesn't mean you were sent
here to rescue every damsel in distress!” Zack started laughing,
what made me even madder at him. “It's not funny, Zack! Do you know
how she'll feel if this doesn't work?”

“I do,” he said, his face turned serious
again.

“No you don't! If you fail, that will seal
her faith forever! She'll be marked as undeniably crazy!”

“I couldn't live with myself knowing I did
nothing, when there's a chance she could be rescued,” sadness
colored his voice. He lowered his glance.

“Neither could I, but we could have told her
the odds,” I said, less angrily.

“She wouldn't have agreed to do this,” he
replied, calmly.

“You can't know that!” I glared at him.

“Would you have agreed not to call the police
about Fat-man if you had known this?” He returned the glare.

I wasn't sure what I would have done, so I
said, “Nevermind. What's done is done,” and I turned my head
angrily toward the aisle.

He must have trailed off into his thoughts,
because after quite a while, he said out of the bloom, “Imagine if
it were you in there.” A hint of vulnerability overshadowed his
eyes.

“Oh, believe me, I have,” I snorted. “I've
been walking on thin ice this whole time.”

“Promise me,” he adjusted in his seat to face
me, and took my both hands in his. “Promise me you'll never get
yourself into that situation.”

I couldn't move my gaze from my hands in his,
but I managed to mutter, “I promise.”

“Look at me,” he nudged my hands, and I
looked up, losing myself in his concerned gaze. All anger had left
me. Just like that! “No matter what happens, promise me you'll deny
seeing anything but your normal world.”

“I promise. Don't worry about me, Zack. I
managed to get this far, didn't I?” I put up a self-assured
smile.

“That was sheer luck!” He sneered.

“Stop it!” I said too loud, and several
people turned around. I pretended to be on the phone, then said
slightly quieter, “Don't get all parental on me now.” Hearing me
say that, Zack let go of my hands, and averted his gaze out the
window. Immediately, I regretted my reaction. Several minutes
passed in awkward silence before I decided to apologize. “I'm sorry
I snapped at you.”

“Don't mention it,” he said, still looking
out the window. “I overstepped my boundary, not you.”

“What boundary?”

“I don't have a say in your life, and I'm
sorry for being so possessive,” he looked at me, and seeing sadness
behind those green eyes made my gut clench.

“You do have a say. We're in this mess
together,” I smiled, and took his hand in mine. Heat spread through
me, and our gazes locked. His eyes widened, and lips parted as if
he wanted to say something, but then he changed his mind, and
looked down at our hands. Gently, he caressed my hand with his
thumb, causing ripples of unfamiliar feelings. Warmth spread
throughout my body. Instinctively, I closed my eyes. When I opened
them, he was staring at me, bewildered. I wasn’t sure if it was my
imagination, but he seemed a lot closer than before I closed
them.

Slowly, I pulled my hand back, and then asked
him, “Zack?” He didn't reply, his gaze still fixed on me as if he
were stopped in time. “Can I ask you a personal question?” He
cleared his throat, blinked a couple of times, and then nodded.
“Where do you sleep?” I didn't know why, but that question made him
laugh hard like that night on my bed. “What?” I asked, but he
continued laughing. “What's so funny?”

“I'll never be able to figure out how your
mind works,” and he laughed some more, leaving me baffled.

“Look who's talking. What's going on in
there?” I pointed at his head. “You're laughing at a perfectly
normal question.”

“I sleep in a hotel,” he said, still smiling.
“Anything else?”

“Where do you eat? You're not still hungry,
are you?” A thought of him being hungry made my stomach turn into a
knot.

“I'm not. I go down to hotel's kitchen after
everyone goes to sleep.”

“But no-one can see if you take something,
why wait till they go to sleep,” his realm was confusing to me.

“That's the thing. There are rules here. I'm
not allowed to do anything that might disrupt your realm's normal
functioning,” upon hearing him say that, I was even more worried
about Sophie. “Hotels, restaurants, grocery stores—they're all busy
places with particular order. My actions would affect too many
people, so I'm not allowed to meddle.”

“And psych ward?” Returning focus to Sophie
made Zack frown. He seemed reluctant to talk about it. We still
haven't touched the subject of him being in a coma, and somehow I
felt I needed to give him time to come to terms with it before
asking any questions.

“Less people are involved,” he said after a
minute. “What we do there will affect Sophie and her doctor.
Possibly her parents. Nobody else. That’s why it might work.”

My bus station was up next. We agreed to meet
tomorrow, and that ended our conversation. I stepped outside, and
started past the bus. Through the window, Zack's eyes locked onto
mine with a quizzical expression. Just as the bus started moving,
and Zack's face disappeared from my view, I saw him put his palm
against the window.

~*~

I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned most of
the night. Patience isn't one of my virtues, and there I was trying
to be considerate, and not ask Zack what bothered me the most. How
did I end up in his thoughts? There must be some logical
explanation for it. He built a wall around him since that day in
the park, and now this coma stuff put additional reinforcements in
that wall. Unlike patience, determination definitely was one of my
better sides, and getting through that wall had just climbed up to
number one on my priority list.
If he thinks he can hide behind
it, he has another thing coming
—that thought eased some of my
anxiety, and allowed sleep to finally take over.

~*~

Morning came too soon, bringing no relief. I
woke up in a sweat pond, shaking off remains of a nightmare. I
couldn't remember what it was, but the feeling of hopelessness and
despair remained. Shower was inevitable, and I was already late, so
I decided to skip breakfast and hurry to catch the bus.

Murphy's law was a bitch. As if running late
wasn't bad enough, traffic jam ahead of my bus had to be one of the
worst I've seen in a while. Nervous drivers were honking, flipping
fingers out their windows, and people on the bus became restless by
the minute, cussing. A man came to our bus driver's window, and
said something to him that prompted the driver to turn off the
engine.

He stood up and told us, “There's a pretty
bad accident. We'll be stuck here for a while,” then he opened all
doors.

Majority of people exited the bus nagging,
including me, and decided to walk the rest of the way. At least now
I had an excuse for being late, but I doubted that would matter to
angry customers at Mario's. I pushed my feet to go faster,
neglecting the burning pain in my thighs. As I was nearing the
place of accident, it was harder to push through the crowd. Many
people wanted to take a closer look at what happened. I couldn't
care less for the details of that tragic event, let alone take
pictures like many people at the scene did. All I could think of
was getting to work, and not running into any new coma
patients.

As I moved through the crowd, I came to a
standstill. I couldn't push through, so I said to a gentleman in
front, “Excuse me, sir,” at that moment, a woman next to him moved,
revealing the rest of the man. The rest of his huge body. My heart
stopped.

The Fat-man from Mario's turned toward me,
glaring. I almost pissed myself. I thought of what Zack had said
about realms being under intelligent control. Bullshit! Face to
face with my attacker, my day couldn't have been crappier. What
intelligence would do that to me?!

“Do you think I'm enjoying myself here?!
Fat-man growled.

“N-no, sir. I'm sorry,” I turned to try
another way, far away from him, but he pulled my arm, jerking me
back. I was expecting my life to run in front of my eyes at any
moment, because I was surely dead after that.

“I know you,” he said, fueling primordial
fear in my gut. “You're the new girl at Mario's.” I nodded. That
was it! He knew who I was. I hoped it wouldn't hurt to bad. He
pulled my arm even harder, and I found my body sandwiched between
his enormous belly and other people's backs. My shoulder sent a few
stabbing pains, and I said goodbye to my right arm. His belly
squeezed the last breath of air from my lungs, and I felt dizzy.
Through teary eyes, I sent a few pleading looks toward people
around us, but no-one paid attention. He jerked my arm one more
time, and I was propelled down into the crowd. My weak body came
crashing against several people that instinctively pushed me off,
and I landed on my knees. Quickly, I stood up, and glanced toward
the Fat-man. He wasn't looking my way, and I started laughing hard.
Laughing at myself. Zack was right. He didn't remember me
correctly. There I was, afraid my life was over, while he was only
pulling me past him.

Adrenaline pumped through me, easing the pain
in my shoulder and knees. As if I had been given another chance in
life, I started running, and reached Mario's in a blink of an eye.
The rest of my shift, I couldn't wait to see Zack, and tell him how
his compulsion had really worked. I started harboring new hope for
Sophie. There might have been some intelligence behind all this
after all.

~*~

Zack came by earlier, and waited for me in
front of Mario's. I couldn't stop looking at the clock, and the
more I looked, the slower it moved. Even more so, I couldn't stop
looking at Zack. I kept wondering how it would be if he woke up
from his coma, and came back normal like me. Pleasant chills rushed
through my body. My chest heaved from the possibility. That would
make Helen eat her arguments, relationship would be possible. I had
to help him find his body.

Powered up by my latest conclusions, I went
out to meet Zack. Wearing an all-around-my-head grin, I started
toward him. Zack inclined his head, and curved his lips into a
smile.

“Aren't you in a good mood,” he said,
matching my smile with his.

“I am,” I confirmed, rocking back on my
heels.

“What changed since last night?” Zack crossed
his arms, squinting, shifting weight on one leg.

“I'm not telling!” I darted my head
side-to-side, and started walking toward the bus station to
Sophie.

“Oh, come on. I tell you everything,” Zack
quickened his pace to catch up with me.

“You do?” I stopped in my tracks. If he did,
I wasn't aware of it.

“Yeah,” he stopped, as well, hooking his
thumbs through the belt loops. “Why are you so surprised?” His lips
curled, his eyes studying me carefully.

“I'm not. I know so little about you; I
didn't realize that was all there is to know,” as I said that, his
eyes widened, and mouth dropped.

“Ouch. That stung,” he took a step back, and
grabbed his chest as if he were hit by an arrow straight through
his heart. “You sure do know how to boost my self esteem.”

“That part of you really doesn't need
boosting,” Laughing, I threw an all knowing look, remembering his
first attempt to talk to me. Zack grinned mischievously, as if he
had reminiscence of his own that amused him. We continued walking.
The sound of my arms swishing against my pants annoyed the crap out
of me, so I crossed them in front.

“So? What happened?” Zack's glance was
the
cutest to date. He seemed playful and relaxed.

Quite theatrically, I repeated what had
happened with the Fat-man. His eyes reacted to every word––one
moment showing fear, another revealing worry, and lastly, relief
when it was all over. His whole body stiffened up at parts where
Fat-man pulled my arm causing me pain. I expected him to be happy
that his compulsion had worked, but instead his mood changed into
grim.

“Zack, what's wrong? Your compulsion worked,
didn't it?”

“Bitter victory!” He picked up my sleeve to
inspect my shoulder. “Does it hurt?” He looked at me without
blinking, eyes wide open.

“No,” I said, having trouble staying serious.
Zack pressed his teeth hard, rage gushing from his nostrils, eyes
flaring. “Zack?”

“What?” His expression remained
unchanged.

“I'm okay. He didn't hurt me. He was helping
me get through,” I took his hand in mine to calm him down, but this
time he was too worked up to notice. He pulled it out, and hovered
toward the curb, turning his back on me, and saying:

“I'd rip his both arms out for hurting
you!”

“Quit that alpha male bull,” I snarled at
him. He turned around looking like a wounded animal. “It's not
appealing,” I added. He stared at me, bemused. “I appreciate your
concern, but acting irrational will hardly get us anywhere.”

“I'm not being irrational,” he hovered back
to me, grabbing my forearms with both hands, and those beautiful
eyes sparked. “I swear, if something—”

“—stop it! Before you say something you might
regret.” I cut him off, and bowed my head to avoid further eye
contact. I wasn't ready to hear whatever was about to go down.
Powerful emotions such as anger compel people to say things that
they wish they could take back later when they cool down. Control
freak such as myself knew that all too well.

“Regret?!” He let out an annoyed snort, and
released my arms. Couple of people came to the bus station, leaving
us in silent agony. Ten more minutes, we stood next to one another,
silently staring in separate directions, and then the bus rolled
in.