• Authors note:

    Hey thanks for reading. Just to let you know though this is copywrited. Its a book im working on to get edited and published soon so no stealing. Feel free to PM me about it. And try to be very critical. I need the input!

    Aaron: Laments of the forgotten
    Written By: Gene
    A cool breeze ran over the ground, carrying small particles of rock and singed grass, across the craggy ground. Aaron closed his eyes and let its cool touch wash over his face. For some odd reason his entire world was askew (Besides the ringing in his ears, and, the interesting view of the landscape.). This small pleasure was short lived though. He
    looked about again and took in the world around him. For some odd reason all of the worlds majesty was evident to him. It was more evident than the situatution that was occurring at the moment. He simply enjoyed what he saw.
    Beauty everywhere his eyes rested. This "beauty" served to prove that perhaps in this entire universe... that there was a god, or at least, something watching over them. Aaron could only hope. The wind blew again, bending grass and tree branches with its passing. Deep hues of green and brown covered most of Aaron’s field of vision. The grass moved like the sea before him as the earth breathed, stealing his breath, in his wonder. He loved it all. It was something so perfect, so infinite, that he was sure that he would be aware of a higher presence.
    Well, in a sense anyway. He had so many questions marching about in his mind like annoying little ants. It made it hard to concentrate on the situation at hand. Well...if there was a situation a hand. Why was the moon white? Was it the reflection of the suns light on its sands? Why was it not blue or green? Why was Mars not white and the moon red? If the moons reflected light was red tinted instead of clear how would it affect our world?
    He sighed mentally and tried clearing his mind. His thoughts were inextricably muddled. There was a high pitched noise that was bothering him. This annoyance was partially the reason for his “coming to sense”, after all, it was very annoying.
    Aaron ran his swollen tongue over, cracked, and dried lips. He was very thirsty…he would need to find water. Again he gave himself a mental slap and pondered the reason for his confusion.
    Concentrate!
    There was a metallic tang in Aaron’s mouth, bringing rise to other questions. He set those aside for later. In the meantime Aaron focused on gathering his bearings. His mind was still in a whirl, analyzing everything and anything it could to process the situation.
    The sharp ache of clenching his quivering jaw muscles (due to the metallic tang in his mouth) helped bring clarity to his mind. He focused on the sound of his own breathing and blocked out the high pitched noises that assaulted his ears. Closing his eyes he became aware of another presence pressing against his own.
    Almost immediately there was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled in his head till it threatened to make him vomit. At that moment he realized why his face hurt and one side felt stabbing sensations. He was lying on his side. These feelings gave Aaron the will to push himself to his hands and knees. He was aching all over. With a clumsy hand he brushed pebbles and dirt from the side of his face. He scraped at the crust on the side of his face and felt something hot run over his hand. He looked down and realized he was covered in blood. For a few moments he stared at his hand dumbly, as if, it were someone else’s hand. Blood?
    The high pitched noise he realized was not his ears but the sound of sirens and screaming people off in the not to distant distance. He looked around him. Aaron was sitting in a small crater that had been blasted into the ground. About him cars were flipped and many of them were twisted or crushed. It was a scene of mass carnage. One of such cars stood before him. It was a mass of twisted metal and asphalt. Aaron blinked.
    Small fingertips lay peeking out of the car the person they belonged to, crushed. Little rivulets of blood trickled down from the wreckage towards Aaron. He lurched away from it and, looked around him at the screaming people. He sat on a battered part of a bridge suspended over water surrounded by cars on all sides. It was more than a hundred yards to the nearest side. Some people were already in the process of leaving but many simply stood there and watched in horror.
    The bridge groaned alarmingly and shuddered as the wind blew. Aaron clambered to his feet the first thought in his mind, the people. They would all die if he did not do something! The evacuation of the bridge wasn’t happening fast enough, and some of the people were stranded by panicked crowds.
    Aaron forced himself to move. His body ached to its very core. He could not even muster a groan. There was just so much smoke in the air it was hard for him to breathe and it made him want to cough. What had happened here? That didn’t matter now. There were people he had to save. Well those that he could save… There had to be something he could do!
    As he walked towards the people, their, faces widened in terror. Every step he took brought more clarity to his mind, a reason to move. Sadly he did not realize why they were so frightened.
    “Stay calm I’ll help you get out of here.” Aaron spoke in as calm a voice as he could muster. That was when he realized the people weren’t looking at him. They were looking at something behind him. There was a loud snapping noise followed by a very bass twang, something large, like a giant guitar string was breaking.
    Aaron turned around to see what it was, but, as he did he realized something dreadful. For some reason his death was imminent. Imminent in his mind would mean that, his death was swiftly approaching. Aaron had enough time to highly doubt that the actual deity “Death” was out to get him. It was more that he felt someone or something was after his well being.
    No what he saw was indeed not the Grim Reaper. No…a man in a fine suit gestured at a steel support along the bridge. It was Kyle… Never his friend… he was someone he never should have saved. But then again he wouldn’t have been able to sleep with himself at night if he hadn’t. Damned consciences. Ominously the support snapped pulling Aaron from his thoughts. The bridge lurched again. The man then turned towards Aaron and swept an arm out lazily at him. A blast of concussive force blasted Aaron from his feet and sent him flying. He tumbled to the ground and hit with a sick thud. Aaron cried out in pain and clutched his side. Cars rolled to a stop next to him. He threw himself out of the way as one literally landed were he once lay. Aaron moaned in pain. There was not a doubt in his mind that more than one of his ribs had snapped. This only complicated measures further as he was forced to take shallow breaths. More people were screaming.
    Someone was speaking to him. It was the same man in the suit that spoke to him. He was the man Aaron had comforted in the dark when they were younger. This man was also most likely the reason that these people were screaming. Why weren’t they running for their lives? The damn fools!
    “Were is the fire you had, Aaron? Get up!” The Kyle shouted. “This is the part were you stand and miraculously stop me. Maybe if you were actually a low C-rank you would have done better. Not that you really had a chance against me. Don’t let me fool you into implying such a thing. From what I have seen you aren’t much more than one of these worms. Honestly I had expected much, much more from you.”
    A hand reached under and lifted Aaron by his tattered shirt till he was face to face with his assailant. The man was pale, a fair complexion, with raven hair and jet black eyes.
    “You and I are more alike than you know Aaron. I had really looked for a test of my abilities. You, after all ,were the one whom made me into a god or at least taught me. I was always a god…” He muttered the last part.
    He did not blink even with the smoke. His eyes peered into the depths of Aarons mind, almost, literally. His expression reminded Aaron of a scientist peering at an insect pinned to a display with needles.
    He knew that look all to well… and it enraged him.
    Aaron clenched a fist and used whatever strength and willpower he had left in his tattered, and, channeled it into one last punch. Kyle, not, much older than himself, caught his fist in his free hand. He squeezed Aaron’s fist with an impossible strength. There was a cracking noise and again Aaron cried out in pain. This time though his cry of pain turned into a scream, as his knuckles and fingers were pulverized.
    He pulled Aaron’s ear close to his mouth spoke.
    “You dared challenge me? I will make my mark on this city. I will grant you one small victory though. I will make you a symbol, a martyr.” The man rose him up as he spoke. “They will hate me, hate me and fear me, but most of all though… they will fear me. From their fear, I will have their undying respect. I will bend them. And if they do not bend… then I will break them.” The man intoned.
    Aaron chuckled. “You are a fool. You choose violence just because you are impatient to try other ways.” Aaron said in a hoarse voice. “You haven’t learned one thing.”
    “And what is that?” Kyle asked in a quiet voice, eyes set in slits.
    “you don’t understand that these people have yet to understand us. They have yet to achieve what we have been given. We cannot erase them because they cannot see the truth.”
    The man sighed in irritation.
    “Look ,Aaron it is okay. Look at the faces of the countless people watching us in this one moment that will be known for coming centuries. Look into the faces of the people that you are defending.”
    Aaron balked at the mans word. His words were the truth. Kyle brought up something that Aaron had tried to ignore. He hoped that this man did not bring to light what he sought so hard not to see.
    “Yes. Indeed I too did indeed did not wish to accept this truth. I have delved into the minds and hearts of the people of this city. There is not one person that does not have potential to become corrupt or to ruin an others life. They lie constantly and a majority of them are rapists. There is so much darkness… Let me be the light. You may see a monster… but I assure you.
    Once I cleanse this world of its sins I will lay down my arms. Not until I have changed this world though. You see they hate us. We are an abomination to them…
    They had hoped in our struggle against one another that we would extinguish one another. But as you can see that has not happened. We will always be something to be contained, something to be locked away.
    Look into the abyss. Look into their eyes Aaron. The eyes of darkness.”
    Aaron tried to deny this but his truth was infallible. On another note Aaron found himself believing what the man was saying. The truth was inevitably the truth and undeniable. Then at that moment Aaron did the one thing that shattered his soul to its core.
    He looked… and something inside of him died.
    He forgot why he was fighting…
    An eternity seemed to pass as he looked into the eyes of the people. The whole of them looked upon him with condescending eyes, full of hateful, judgment. There was a singular emotion that covered every man and woman’s face. They all looked frightened, frightened and disgusted.
    It was true. They all wanted him dead. None of them saw a man fighting for what was right. They saw a monster fighting a monster.
    His opponent felt the change in his person and saw it in Aaron’s eyes. Aaron’s eyes were that of a man resigned to death. Aaron’s hands fell away from Kyle’s choking embrace. He felt that if he could not be accepted by them how could he accept himself? Why live? They hated him… and he hated himself just as much for what he was, and what he represented. He was an abomination. The law of nature was exacting its order on the unworthy.
    Kyle lifted Aaron higher and higher as if he were no more than a struggling kitten. He chuckled blandly.
    “You see the truth now. We are destined for the same end. Why not make a place for ourselves in this world? You see now how futile it was to reason with me? You… not even a “C-caliber” shifter. Why try to stop the inevitable. Even more so you try to reason with me? An imbecile like you? My mind is old. But I will grant you the satisfaction of knowing that I think you are a fool, a dead one, granted… but you are a brave one. Well, brave, and dead. This city is next.
    Remember me. Remember Kyle Delonas. Remember that you were not good enough. Do not despair I will free you.”
    With a flick of his wrist, Kyle sent Aaron flying through the air like a rag doll. Mercifully, Aaron went into a state of shock as he flew through the air. His body sent signals indicating brain but that part of his brain had shut down to prevent any further damage.
    The last he remembered was the icy embrace of the water. The feeling of weightlessness. As if he was already dead. Finally a release. So Aaron finally let go and sank into the bottom of the river, dragged along by the fast flowing current.
    He thought to himself, I don’t want this anymore. Take it all away. Make my pain go away… God… Someone…
    Aaron could feel bits and pieces of himself deteriorating and finally altogether disintegrating. It wasn’t painful. It was release. Each time a little of what he was faded away he hurt a little less.
    Down in this icy and dim world, his haven, he drifted. Bubbles drifted from his nostrils. They were his only reminder that he was dying, drowning.
    I’m not dead yet? He thought in a muddled irritation. The cold had begun to seep into his body and cloud his thoughts. His discomfort belonged to someone else it seemed. He stirred slightly as his feet dragged along the bottom of the river as he hit a shallow part before being whisked away again. Finally all the heart and pain in his heart broke away… so much so he did not wonder about the empty feeling in his heart. He had forgotten why he was in the river.
    Am I not dead yet? When is it going to be the end? I wish to die. His body persisted in its will to live.
    He could not longer remember what he wanted to die for and after awhile, he was unsure wither or not he was dead or not. Aaron was content just to drift away. Aaron mentally clutched his name, as a drowning man clutched driftwood.
    Aaron.
    I am Aaron.
    Aaron.
    These words floated in his mind like a mantra. This was the only remaining part of his persona that would not die.
    Oddly down in those dim, icy, waters he was vaguely aware of strong arms wrapping around his waist, the strong threshing of legs beneath his. Gentle hands passed his shattered body down along a small processecion of people. He was laid down and forced to breath again if only for a few moments. “My god his ribs are broken! Get a doctor!” Aaron gasped and threw up more blood than water.
    “Someone is either very cruel, or is watching over this man.” Someone murmured.
    “My god! Oh my god! Look at his arms and legs!”
    “Shut up! Get him covered till the ambulance gets here.”
    “Were did he come from?”
    “Maybe he fell from the sky?” Asked a frightened child’s voice. The voice said again touching Aaron’s hand. “He’s cold!”
    “Don’t touch him he’s in a lot of pain.”
    “Sorry.”
    “No. he came from up the river. He might be from the New Fall’s Disaster.”
    “I thought they all died?”
    “Evidently not.”
    Aaron stirred listlessly as his shallow breaths became more and more ragged with each passing second.
    “Well evidently he still has some life still left in him. No us we sitting out here with him. Lets get him inside.”
    “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, considering he floated down the river. For all we know he could be a killer that escaped from the authorities.” Said another voice.
    “You would let him die?”
    “Look at him! He should already be dead!”
    “A life is a life. As I have always told you and will continue to tell you. It is our duty as fellow human beings and good Samaritans to try at least to save him… Even if the best we can provide is a warm bed for him to die in.”
    “What is all this discussion about?” asked a deep gruff voice. It was someone important, because, every voice instantly went silent at its sound.
    For a few moments not a sound was to be heard aside from running water and the shivering intakes of frozen breaths.
    “We found this man while we were on our way to the docks. He was floating face down when we saw him. We thought he was a log or some dirt, but then he moved. So I grabbed Lacy and we hollered and grabbed some people to fish ‘em out.”
    “You did a good thing Joe.” The commanding voice said. “Go get cleaned up before you catch phenomena. I will take him to the hospital.”
    Aaron was lifted gently.
    “You really think this is a good idea? We could push him back in or leave him here and pretend nothing ever happened.”
    “Yes and in fact he’ll stay with you and Cherry. The local physician will tend to him there till we can get him to a local hospital. If he survives this he will be staying with you.”
    “You can’t be serious try and be reasonable John!”
    “Shut your mouth Montag! You do not have the right, nor, the authority to call me by my first name. I am Norre to you only. You will listen to me for once in your life. This man will have your guest room if he survives this.” Said the voice of Norre sharply.
    “Yes sir.” Grumbled Montag.
    Aaron’s breath gave out once again and all was silent and black.


    “Clear!” There was a sound of beeping. Electricity surged through Aaron’s body and the smell of ozone pervaded his nostrils.
    “Give me another charge! His hearts stopping again! 3! 2! 1! Clear!” Another wave of electricity rocked Aaron’s body. He managed to open one of his eyes. Wires were connected to him everywere. A masked doctor pumped air down his nose and mouth, down his throat. Another doctor had sliced open his shirt and felt his ribs.
    “Damn! His left lung collapsed! Its filling up with fluid! Get me an invo-pump and a scalpel!” A nurse passed the doctor the gleaming instruments.
    He pressed it against Aaron’s side and pulled it down. Aaron barely felt the pain, not even, as the doctor slid a finger in and pushed aside a broken rib and forced a hollow needled into his lung. “His chest is no worse for wear. We have a third and forth rib fracture, a punctured lung. The rest or broken or bent erratically. I’m going to need a pair of forceps.” Hands gently touched his body ,turning, his head ever so slightly.
    “Damn! He’s bleeding out over here! We have a ruptured femoral artery over here!”
    “How’s the other one?”
    “Contracted. We’re going to need stints. Were is my pic line?!”
    “Kidney failure over here!”
    “We’re busy!”
    Aaron heard a beeping noise. As he closed his eyes there was a beeping noise. Someone felt his pulse and patted his cheek. “Come on! Come on!”
    “He’s bailing on us again!”
    “Are you kidding me? Someone get me some epinephrine!”

    Aaron stirred later on… He did not know how long, (not that he had a reason to care in his mind.) Aaron opened an eye. The other was swollen shut. He lay in a room. The room was white washed and smelt stale. It was barren save for a vase of flowers in front of the window. There was a scent of apples and cinnamon coming from the hallway. Underneath the aroma was the smell of death.
    The only things that disturbed his quite solace were the sounds of beeping and slow clicking. He looked down at himself and marveled at the casts covering him. Aaron paused and listened as he heard voices outside, speaking, in hushed tones.
    “John… I’ve never quite seen such damage. No human being should be able, nor, allowed to suffer through this much pain. Even with the casts we placed on his arms and legs, I, don’t think he’ll ever walk or hold a pencil again. Let me pull the plug. If you like I could over dose him on morphine. Anything is better than what he’s experiencing. Normally I wouldn’t ask, but, this guy is in bad shape. If I weren’t a doctor I would call him a miracle, or, some guy that pissed off god and was experiencing the butt of a joke. Well that or a damn zombie.”
    “There isn’t anything you can do for him doc?” The older voice asked. There was a sigh. Not a sigh of frustration but one of sadness.
    “I’m afraid not. The best we can do for him is make him comfortable, make the pain bearable. He will die though, without a doubt. Let’s pray for a miracle.”
    The older voice snorted. “Yeah a miracle. What did a man such as this, deserve to die this way?” There was a long moment of silence. As Aaron drifted off he heard softly.
    “If he doesn’t stabilize by tomorrow morning I’ll end it.” Said the doctor’s voice.
    “Your doing the right thing.”
    “God help me. God help him”
    ********************************************************************************************************
    That next night the only company that Aaron had was the sound of dogs barking outside, and tree branches against his window. The entire night his mind swam in a wash of pain. The sunrise was a long time coming. When the sun came up Aaron still felt exhausted and drained. At least he felt that he had grown accustomed to the pain. His eyes were swollen shut. Even so he could not open them due to his physical exhaustion along with his mental state. He felt shattered.
    Before he had a chance to dwell on his state and why he was there he felt a cool rush of air. A small, cool hand touched his forehead.
    “You sleep a lot.” Said a little girl’s voice. It was the voice from the night before. “Are you really an angel?” Said the voice off handedly. She was carefree and innocent. Her voice struck his core. It was more curiosity than anything else. With sheer force of will he opened one of his eyes and looked slowly about the room, whitewashed and sterile with a TV. mounted in the corner.. The slight motion sent him flying on waves of vertigo. His eyes fell on a girl in a sundress, no older than eleven. She wore a headband over her long brown hair. “They said you survived from that one disaster, upriver. What was it called?” She made a cute face, then it brightened. “I remember! The New Fall’s disaster. They say that one of their nuclear reactors went off. There’s a lot of stuff getting said. I don’t know. I just am wondering though. Are you an angel? Did an airplane hit you? My grandpa Norre says angels are like “Erethral”. I don’t know what that means though. I know it’s something really magical though.” She kept touching his face and poking his cheeks trying to get some kind of response out of him.
    The room door opened and a very grizzled man walked inside. He radiated authority and power. His face was covered in scraggly gray hairs and scars from past fights. He laid a hand on the little girls shoulder. She started a bit and turned hugging the old man. His face relaxed and he patted her shoulder.
    “It’s time to say goodbye Cherry.” Said the old man. It was the voice that belonged to the man Norre.
    “We were just talking.” She said, frowning. “Well I was doing most of the talking.” The phrase elicited a slight sardonic smile from his grizzled face. His smile quickly saddened. Norre had seen much during his life. This was one of those terrible moments that brought his terrible past to the forefront of his mind. Cherry’s voice brought him back.
    “Why do I have to go? I just wanted to talk a little bit with Mr. Angel.”
    “Is that what we are calling him now?”
    “Well I don’t know his name so I figured I could call him that.”
    Norre chuckled softly and gently led her out of the room. He walked back inside and looked at Aaron’s prone form. They made eye contact for a few moments. He then shut the door. Aaron drifted off to sleep, haunted by phantoms of pain and anguish that stemmed from a source, shrouded in darkness.

    Norre was slightly surprised. The man had looked him in the eye. Norre had seen it man times before in his service for his country. But even so, he felt that there was some sort of comprehension there. And therefore a human mind still lurking there, trying to adapt and survive. He looked at the watch on his wrist. It was just ten in the morning. The doctor must not have taken him off of life support yet. He might have time before he did just that. He turned to Cherry.
    “Hey baby why don’t you keep Mr. Angel company while I go look for his doctor?”
    “Okay!” She said brightly, skipping into the room.
    As soon as the door shut, Norre ran down the hallway. He had pulled out his W.P.U.S. a Wireless Phone Uplink System that resembled a bracelet that was in all actuality a micro-processing factory. He took out the wireless earpiece and extended its mouth piece. He didn’t have time to dial it manually on the holo-keypad. He simply used the quick select options by stating his last name. The A.I.S. took care of the rest. An Automated Intelligence System that operated within the set parameters of the user.
    “Hello? This is Dr. Rutherford speaking.”
    “Yeah, well its Norre, were are you now?” He asked as he raced down the hallway.
    “In the ICU- are you running right now?” Rutherford asked. Norre sighed in frustration.
    “That’s irrelevant right now! The John Doe! You remember him correct?” He asked rounding a corner, heading towards the ICU. Norre knew the place intimately, as he had been there many times and had visited his long past friends. He was not about to let another person die, especially if he could maybe prevent it.
    “Yes? Why?”
    “Well he is awake and responding. Do not unplug him.”
    “That’s not possible John.” Norre pushed open the double doors to the ICU. Dr. Rutherford stood there. They spotted each other and disconnected.
    “This is a mans life! I know things are tough but you don’t peg money on his life damnit!” He said grabbing the doctor by the front of his work lab coat.
    Rutherford grasped Norre’s wrists. “It’s not that. I already turned off his support systems at six this morning. He died over an hour ago.” Norre’s blood went cold. He dropped the doctor, for he had bodily lifted him from the ground, heedless of watching patients and nurse’s. No one had stopped him. All of the towns people of Young Rivers knew better than to trifle with Norre when he displayed such emotion, for it was rare, that he ever did.
    “What?” Norre said numbly, for he had seen the man look at him.
    Dr. Rutherford repeated himself calmly. “We turned off life support over an hour ago and clocked the time of his death.” He smoothed out his lab coat. “It was probably just a stray heartbeat that caused his eyes to spasm open. It happens from time to time. And it just so happens that I was just about to go down and send him to the morgue for an autopsy. You can come with if you like.

    Later as they entered Aaron’s room the doctor was just as astounded upon entering, to see, Cherry chatting with the semi-conscious man.
    “It’s not possible. It must be a miracle.” Dr. Rutherford had said in a faint voice.
    John Norre could only agree. A miracle indeed.

    As they days turned into weeks, that Aaron survived, more and more doctors from the surrounding country side came to visit and diagnose Aaron’s fragile condition. Each said as a whole that he would not make it. And the weeks turned to months and still the doctors did not recant. The only said he was a very stout individual.
    Even so Aaron persisted well into that next winter, astounding, many of the physicians and surgeons. All that time though even through the check ups, Cherry visited and spoke with Aaron, whom, quietly and patently listened to her idle chatter. Even though it was mostly the ramblings of a child he enjoyed her presence and the profound sense of her innocence. It had touched him deeper than any wound or blade could scour his body. His condition improved but his silence did not.
    After February Norre allowed no visitors, save, Cherry, himself, and Dr. Rutherford. Aaron would sit and listen to Cherry and Norre would sit in the corner reading a book for an hour or two each day of the week, or Dr. Rutherford, would speak to him on his progress. He would tell him that the casts would come off soon and that his bones were mending very fine and express his surprise at Aaron’s hardy immune system, abundance of white blood cells, and his body’s regenerative abilities. Dr. Rutherford just could not put his finger on it. When this was said Cherry would only shake her head and remark. “He’s an Angel. Angel’s don’t die. They get better real fast. Especially when the sun shines on them.”
    To be honest. After awhile even Dr. Rutherford began to believe the ludicrous remark. Not the angel part. Not yet.



    part 2



    The months drew on and Aaron remained in the hospital. To be honest he was content to stay there with that little girl and listen to her chat on and on about her day.
    “Shelly was sitting next to me and she kept saying that Chad was going out with Britney but I told her that that just wasn’t true. Chad is like really quite and he doesn’t talk to anyone. He’s more quite than you Mr. Angel. Well anyways, she’s all jealous, that Chad is going with Britney and not with her. She thinks Chad is cute. I don’t know what she sees in the boys at school anyways. Your going to have to meet them sometime. They are all dying to meet you. I’m always telling them about you.” She said playing with her hair. She took Aaron’s hand, the one no longer encased in a plaster cast. His left arm was taking longer to heal. “Your going to have to come out of here sometime. I feel really bad for saying this. But I’m getting tired of coming to visit you all the time. Why don’t you come visit me. You don’t have cast’s on your legs anymore. I’ve seen boys with worse at school walking around using crutches.” She said. Ironically though Aaron’s innocence and lack of memory were nearly on par with the girls. He thought to himself and wondered the same thing.
    Why wasn’t he out wandering around? He did want to go sight seeing with Cherry, to see, the orchards that Young Rivers was known to be famous for, that, and its water recycling power plants. He pondered this and decided against Dr. Rutherford’s advice to sit up. It took nearly iota of his miniscule strength but even so he sat up, encouraged by, Cherry’s wide smile. He scooted over slowly, weak as a babe, and set his pale feet on the cold linoleum floor. He shivered and pushed himself forward with his one good hand and stood on his own two feet. He only stood for more than a few seconds before collapsing on his bed, gasping for breath. “Come on I’ll help you!” Cherry said grasping his hand and pulling him forward. He stood again and with Cherry’s help they made it down the hallway. It was fairly warm that day so he did not feel all that comfortable.
    By the time that the wires and needles had pulled free of his skin, their alarms, blaring out flat lines, they were already rounding the hallway.
    Norre received the call on his W.P.U.S while he was on his way to pick up Cherry. She usually caught the bus there after school. He had trusted her and the doctors enough to allow this.
    “Hello?”
    “This is Mrs. Tatum I am the secretary at the Young Rivers hospital. May I speak to a Mr. John Norre?”
    “Your speaking with him.” Norre said frowning, though, the secretary could not see his face.
    “We don’t want to alarm you but your daughter and the “John Doe” patient have gone missing from his room. We have reason to believe that they haven’t left the hospital, we’ve, checked all the security feeds.” The secretary said. Norre’s blood ran cold.
    “How long ago was this?”
    “Less than thirty minutes ago.”
    “Damnit! You should have called me when they disappeared!” He shouted into the vocal receiver. He hit the gas peddle and turned his truck around in the middle of heavy after school traffic and sped back to his house.
    “We were assuming they went out for a wal-“
    “That doesn’t mean anything to me! I’ll have a talk with your supervisor on duty when I get there. Monitor those damn security feeds this time!” He shouted hanging up on the secretary. He sped off down the highway with all speed.
    “Call Montag.” He growled to his onboard A.I.S. system. The trucks onboard computers winked on, causing, a see-through holographic projection to appear. His step son’s face, Cherry’s father appeared. He was looking down at the screen with a frown on his face. He must have been out in the field checking on his parolees.
    “Yeah?”
    “Get a few guys from the force and head over to the hospital with me. I’m getting my gun.” Norre said quickly. “No time to talk. It’s your daughter.” He said hanging up. Montag would be there with a few of his other fellow cop friends. Norre’s step son was just as (if not more) protective of Cherry as was Norre.
    He pulled into his driveway and dashed inside of his house. In only three minutes he had taken out and fitted his silenced handgun with an infra-red scope.

    Norre met Montag in the hospital parking lot with two other sheriffs armed to the teeth one with a sniper rifle and the other with a tactical assault rifle. Montag had called in a few favors.
    They swept the grounds in four different directions based on the tips that other patients and nurses had given them, establishing, a net about the hospital grounds. They checked the grounds and moved inwards, communicating via W.P.U.S.’s, over a closed line.
    All in all it took them half an hour to locate the two. Norre received a response, over the communications channel.
    “I’ve got a clean shot on the suspect. Requesting permission to fire.” Said the Sheriff.
    “Fi-“
    “Wait.” Norre said cutting off Montag before he could give the order. “Where are they?”
    “In the hospital gardens walking around talking.”
    “Wait there. I know were that is. I want to see the situation for myself.” Norre said striding in their direction.
    “No take the s-“
    “Montag shut up or I will shut you up!” Norre hissed. “The man just got out of bed. I highly doubt he’s dangerous. Hell. Cherry could probably take him down herself.”
    “But-“
    “But nothin’.” Norre retorted. “You’ll wait until I’ve given the order.” Montag’s line went silent. The man may have been a Sheriff but he also knew when to listen. If not begrudgingly.
    Norre rounded a corridor and went down a flight of steps to the windows that overlooked the garden. The Sheriff whom had notified him had slid open a window and had the barrel aimed at their John Doe. Norre walked over and gestured for him to move aside and looked down the scope.
    What he saw warmed his heart and made him chuckle softly to himself. The man was led by his granddaughter, Cherry, as she chattered. She was probably talking about the boys at school and how she hated them; he thought to himself. The man she led shuffled after her was like a lost puppy and hung on to her every word just like one. Norre smiled briefly, a, rare thing for him to ever do. Inside of a sad memory he remembered walking with his wife through that very garden. It was back when he was on temporary leave from the military and his wife was pregnant with their first and only child. Their daughter. It was also the place were they walked daily when his wife had later been afflicted with cancer. He then had left the military to care for his only daughter. He didn’t regret though. That was her legacy. Letting him watch their daughter grow up.
    His wife and daughter were long gone and his granddaughter was all that remained of them. She walked the same path they had. It was both a sobering and somewhat heartwarming sight to see.
    “Tell your men to go home Montag.” Norre whispered softly.
    “Is she okay? What’s going on?” Montag asked quickly with an edge to his voice.
    “Their just going for a walk. Their only walking around the garden.” He said with a touch of emotion to his voice. “Just a walk on a nice day.”
    The doctors appeared later and expressed shock at the sight of seeing Aaron, his feet walking around. After all they, themselves had expressed , that he would never likely walk again. Well never walk again without aid. Dr. Rutherford came behind them and eyed Norre and the sheriff. “See. This was all very unnecessary.” The doctor folded his arms over his chest and contemplated the sight. “That little girl really is something.”
    Norre nodded. “She’s got her mothers magic alright.” Cherry’s mother had had a way with all the creatures and things of the world. She felt and empathized with them in a way Norre had never seen. One day after Norre had gotten off of work he had come home to find his daughter nursing an injured wolfs paw, from the surrounding country side. Those day’s they were nearly extinct and very vicious. Upon seeing him the wolf had fled out the open back door. His young daughter had not realized how much peril she had been in. Now here her grand-daughter was. The daughter of her daughter, making a crippled man, walk again.
    The increase in population back then had led the government to retract several restrictions on building in protected wildlife parks. The wild animals had not reacted kindly. Even now Norre was ashamed of what his nation had done in order to provide more space to live. Inter-planetary colonization and terra-forming took decades. Hundreds were born in minutes and fewer died. Technology was on the forefront and someone had to pay for an others comfort. He just wished it wasn’t drenched in blood. It was part of the reason why Norre had not been ashamed to leave the military on an honorary discharge. He had grown disgusted with the world he had fought for. It had become convoluted. At least here, some of the way the world was meant to be, remained here.

    Montag walked down the hallway and went out into the garden with two male nurses. He had since holstered his gun. Now he was getting his daughter. Norre and him would have a talk later about letting Cherry talk with stranger, most of all, run off with one. Montag was not a bad man. He was just a bitter man. After the death of his wife, Cherry’s mother, he had become very protective of her. As the years passed he had become reclusive. In essence though, he was a good man, nevertheless. They walked out towards the two and Montag waved at Cherry. “He honey. It’s time to go.” He said in his kindest voice. Cherry turned to him and smiled, waving, her other hand holding Aaron’s. This sight infuriated Montag.
    “Hey dad! This is my friend Mr. Angel.” She said smiling brightly. Her bottom lip stuck out. “Can’t we stay for five minutes longer? All three of us can talk!” As she talked the two male nurses moved towards Aaron and gently grasped his arms, beginning, to lead him away.
    “I know. Maybe later. Your friend needs his rest.” Muttered Montag as he walked over and grasped her the arm. Cherry gave a whimper ,as, children do. She did not wish to leave so soon.

    Aaron was content to go. As he walked past Cherry watched Montag ,grab, Cherry’s arm. When she made the noise he moved breaking free of the two male nurses, whose grips, were formidable at the least. Though he was still crippled he moved quickly and grasped Montag’s wrist. They made eye contact before Montag shoved him back ,causing, him to fall. “Don’t touch me!” Cherry grew frightened and began crying. Montag was furious. “See what you did?” He leaned in close to Aaron’s prone form. “If you ever touch me or my daughter again I will kill you. That’s a promise. This is a small town. I am the law!” He hissed in Aaron’s ear. Aaron did not flinch at the threat. He kept his silence, true, to his nature. He looked over his shoulder as the nurses led him away, briefly, making eye contact again.

    Norre had seen everything. Dr. Rutherford had spoken with him before he came.
    “Well. He can take care of himself now. Now that we have proof that he can react with others in a somewhat healthy matter; he can go home. Frankly, its all, thanks to that little girl of yours and Montag’s. Does he have anyone that he knows that can come get him? He won’t respond to any of us.” Norre was hardly surprised. The man was very quite. He knew that he was relatively healthy mentally, by, the look in his eyes. Norre could tell a man of cunning by his eyes. If anything he knew to stay away from them. But as long as Cherry could trust him; so could Norre. The girl had a knack for finding good people.
    He sat next to Aaron on his hospital bed. “Do you have a place to live? Dr. Rutherford says that you are well enough to leave. Pretty soon you will be able get those last two casts off soon enough.” Aaron did not respond to Norre’s announcement. He turned his head and studied him though. “Since you don’t have an answer…As usual…” He murmured this last part. “You can stay with Cherry and Montag until we can get some word of were you live, or, some word from relatives.” Norre sighed patted Aaron on the shoulder. He stood and turned to leave. “Montag may be a little “rough around the edges” but he is a good man at heart. He just copes with pain differently. All people do. If you don’t understand, you will, one day.” Norre opened the door and left. As he opened it he swore he could hear the man whisper behind him, “Thank you.” He didn’t feel the need to investigate though. There were other things to attend to. Later Norre called Montag well after sundown.
    “Hello?”
    “Yeah its Norre.”
    “What can I do for you?” Montag asked. There was still a hint of vehemence in his voice, probably, from the events that took place earlier.
    “It’s about our John Doe.”
    “What about him?” The tension in his voice was already growing and the conversation had barely started.
    “Well he’s going to need a place to live and some clothes.” Norre was quickly losing his patience.
    “What does this have to do with me?”
    “Stop playing dumb with me, boy. Sooner or later your going to grow a pair and start living life again. This man needs a place to live. He’s a good guy. It’ll only be for a few weeks till he can rent an apartment.”
    “What about my place?”
    “Have you seen my place?”
    “Good point. But only for a few weeks.” Montag said in a quite but harsh voice.
    “Good man Montag. Good man.” Murmured Norre as he hung up.

    Montag sat there in his living room, thinking, in the dark. He rubbed his bruised wrist. That man, their, John Doe. The look that man had given him had shocked him to his core. It was the look of a serial killer. Montag himself had seen how gentle he was with his daughter though. He had just gotten a bit hot headed seeing her taking such a liking to him. Sighing, he got up, and pulled off his uniform shirt then went and grabbed a beer. Tomorrow was going to be a terrible day. He just knew it.