Free Leaping by J Bennett

wait.
    “How bad is the break?” I try to
corral my voice, force it into some semblance of professional calm.
    “From what I can feel, it’s not a
clean set and wrap. He’ll need medical attention,” Tarren says.
    “Is he in any immediate danger?”
    I can almost hear the shrug in
Tarren’s voice. “If he was going into shock it would have happened by now.”
    I stare at Chain. His hands must be
freezing, but he won’t put them in his pockets. Won’t show any weakness. “It’s
too risky to bring him to a hospital,” I decide. Chain opens his mouth to
protest, but I hold up my hand. “Can we take him to Lo?”
    The potty-mouthed Boy Wonder’s
mansion is less than an hour away.
    “He won’t have the medical supplies
we need or the expertise,” Tarren replies.
    That’s right. Lo’s specialty is
slicing and dicing the bodies we bring him for his research, not putting them
back together.
    “Then we need to call Dr. Lee.”
    “He won’t be happy,” Tarren says,
but his tone tells me that this is already the conclusion he’s reached.
    “He’s never happy.” I close my eyes
again and pull up a detailed map of the country in my head. My pristine memory
is one of the advantages of the angel transformation that I find particularly
useful.  “We can meet in Grand Junction, Colorado. That’s about halfway. We can
make it in under seven hours if we push it.”
    “Seven hours?” Chain says, inching
close behind me as if trying to eavesdrop on our conversation. “You said he
broke his leg. You can’t wait seven more hours.”
    “Do you think the wait would do him
a lot of harm?” I ask Tarren. My mind whirls. What if he goes into shock on the
way there? What if the critical window to full recovery is slamming shut right
now?
    “A seven-hour car ride isn’t going
to help anything,” Tarren admits, “but Dr. Lee is the safest bet for a good
outcome. We can’t bring him to a hospital, especially not with fentanyl in his
system and GSR all over his hands and clothes. He could say anything when he comes
out of anesthesia.”  
    I chew on my cheek. “We leave now.”
    “Head back to the nursing home, and
I’ll meet you there,” Tarren says.
    I click off the phone and realize
only a moment later how in sync I’ve become with Tarren. Sometimes it feels
like we can almost read each other’s minds. Good for the mission, but kind of
creepy on the personal front. Is Tarren becoming more human, or am I slowly
crossing over into robo-vigilante territory? 
    As we walk back to the Mayflower
Senior Care Village, Chain peppers me with questions, and I have to explain in
detail why we can’t take Rain to the hospital. I watch his aura grow bigger,
the lighter shades of red turning crimson.
    “You just made the decision. Didn’t
even ask,” he snaps.
    “We know what we’re doing,” I shoot
back. It’s the wrong thing to say.
    “You all are fucking assholes!”
Chain grips his belt in both hands like it was some kind of life raft. I wonder
for a moment if we’re going to have it out right here, right now. A wave of
hunger rolls over me, and I step back, turning away from Chain.
    “Keep your voice down,” I say,
satisfied that no tremors catch in my words. I dial Gabe’s number, relay the
good news to my brother, and ask him to contact Dr. Lee. We make it to the edge
of the nursing home parking lot, and then it’s just waiting, waiting, waiting
for Tarren.
    I bob on my feet and begin planning
all the ways that I will kill Rain as soon as he’s fixed up. That’s assuming
Gem doesn’t eviscerate me first. Headlights cut around the corner. The jeep. My
heart clobbers hard. I know Tarren would never lie about Rain being alive, but
I just have to see him for myself. The jeep pulls into the back corner of the
parking lot. When the headlights extinguish, the jeep is almost invisible in
the darkness. Tarren is a menacing shadow as he steps out of the driver’s side.
    “He’s in the back,” my