A View To A Kill
Unknown Author: Life without a friend is death without a witness.
He broke his promise. Adam was correct, never vow something you cannot keep. Henry felt his heart rip out of his chest as he saw dark red materializing from where the projectile had hit...her. The immortal still had an ounce of faith left. When experiencing a traumatic event, most wish for a miracle. If Adam's thesis was right (hopefully), she might not succumb to fatality. He then wallowed in that idea; her becoming like him. Dying was a better fate than living forever in a life full of lies and deceit. Secrets always came with consequences. Wetness dampened his eyes, shouting her name beseechingly as the person he cared for fell to the ground with a thump, hands touching her abdomen. From the amount of blood pouring out and that she was in intense pain, Henry couldn't accept it, but she had penetrating abdominal trauma, and was going into hypovolemic shock (insufficient blood in the circulatory system)...she was going to die and he could not do anything to stop it. The bullet was torn into shards and had wedged itself inside her, for the gun was antiquely old.
Anger and vengeance pierced and flooded the heart of the restrained man. Right then, he was contemplating on the act of murder—Adam's murder, getting it into his mind that it was not really murder, for Adam would not exactly die. He heard Jo painfully say his name, she didn't have much more time. All the lethal and criminal thoughts evacuated his entire being; his wise and calm personality took place once again. Killing was not...never the option, it would only make him as bad as his enemy. His duty was to be with Jo.
The chair wasn't dislodging from staid position, but the ropes fastened around his wrists were starting to come loose. Dismally, Adam was already ahead of the situation. He knew that when needed, a human's strength surmounted the norm, and Henry needed to go see Jo. The centuries made him inhuman and filled with madness, but they also made him wise and knowledgeable beyond measure.
"Isn't it wonderful Henry? We are going to have a new born enter our little family," The psychotic immortal asserted, dropping the gun and walking towards Henry slowly.
"One day you will pay dearly for all your crimes!" The medical examiner bellowed, finally escaping from the seat, standing up with a fast jolt, trying to get to Jo, but Adam was in the way.
"As I told your girlfriend, that never going to come to pass." He snickered, his narcissistic side revealing itself. He sighed, a non-emotional smirk landing along his lips. "I can't stay, I'll let you both be alone." He took out a knife, slashing all his carotid arteries, falling unconscious from the lack of oxygen travelling to his brain, disappearing a few seconds later. The ancient immortal was happy, he found a way to wound Henry...without even killing him. Making him break his promise, letting his partner die and letting her live the same cursed life was enough to send him into the pit of despair. That's what he thought...but was he right?
Henry hated it; it felt like he lost against Adam. He got away…again. Putting his defeat out of the picture, he sped to Jo's side. Her eyes were half closed, almost passed out from the lack of blood remaining in her system. He acted like a doctor, placing his hands on her wound to slow down the bleeding—but it wouldn't halt it. Blood, her blood seeped through his pores, high chances of him getting an infection, but he didn't care about hygiene.
"Hey Jo stay awake." He pleaded, shaking her. She moaned, sounding like she didn't have any energy left.
"I'm sorry…" It was faint, but still present.
"No. Don't you dare be sorry! This is my fault, I should have protected you. I should have—"The frenzied immortal got cut off by Jo curling her fingers into his.
"Shut…up Henry." Jo said, coughing in-between syllables. "You…know the bad…side of…dying?" The pained detective gasped, voiced raspy.
"You're not going to die. You're going to wake up after, in the lake. I'll meet you there myself." Henry cried, shaking his head frantically. Believing and seeing what he wanted to believe and see, not at what might happen.
Jo didn't want to listen, she just answered the question she had asked her partner. "*Cough*…that I was starting to…*wheeze* fall for…you." She replied, chuckling as much as she could, but the pain got in the way.
"Me too. But I'll see you later." Henry still couldn't accept that these were the last moments he might have with her. Jo seemed to be grasping onto her life dearly, too bad death was an obstacle no one could stay clear of. Even immortals died sometimes, they just had many more lives in front of them.
"Don't…*cough* get your…hopes up…" The detective breathed her last breath, her grasp leaving Henry's hand, at 12:52 Jo Martinez passed away. It was her first death, but the first one was always the most important because it was the same time as her rebirth. She had vanished...
Henry sat on the ground, legs too shaky to stand up. She didn't die, she was still alive, swimming in the river somewhere. Steadying his two feet on firm ground, he fled the warehouse, needing to find a phone to call Abe with. He was starting to change his idea on getting a cell phone. They really did come in handy.
He was in a rough neighbourhood, no idea where he was. He wouldn't have enough time to get to Jo before she...resurfaced. Abe would have to go in his place. Henry's adrenaline pumped widely as he tried to find a phone. He looked around, filtering his surroundings. There were a few other small warehouses and old run-down apartment buildings. A pay phone stood gloomily alone on a sombre corner, slightly illuminated being that there was a lamp post fairly close to it. Henry ran towards it, Jo only occupying his every thought. He somewhat felt afraid, being in a dangerous neighbourhood during the witching hour; he'd heard stories centering on the macabre, also seen a lot for himself.
The rushed doctor opened the stall door with a little too much force, making the hinges crack. Henry took out his wallet (relieved he still had it on his person), putting two twenty-five cents in the palm of his hand, and then compositing it through the small slot situated on the upper left of the pay-phone. He took the receiver in his hand, punching in the digits of Abraham's phone. It rang...once...twice...then someone picked it up.
"Hello, Henry? Is that you?" Abe suspected, he had not gone to sleep since his father had not come home yet, and it usually meant that Henry was either in a heap of trouble...or died and needed picking up. This time, the old man was much more nervous than usual. Jo was also probably in trouble, and she didn't have an infinite amount of lives.
"Yeah Abe, it's me." Henry said, out of breath from the running.
"Do you need me to come to the river to get you?" Abe asked, already getting ready to leave the shop.
"Not exactly...I need you to go there...but to pick Martinez up." Henry said rather quickly, not wanting to stall.
"What! Does this mean—" Abraham's voice trailed off.
"Yes, she's cursed now and it was my fault..." Henry sighed, fist punching the box in front of him. He was furious, blaming himself for her demise, when it was actually Adam's fault. Henry Morgan had a problem. Whenever he messed up or something did not go the way he planned, he would blame it all on himself, not understanding that no one was perfect...just imperfect. His immortality was never going to change that.
"Henry! I don't believe that one bit. Jo probably has a different story." Abe told him straight, telling him off in a stern kind of way.
"No, you don't understand I made a promise and I broke it...I should have never told her. It would have been better if I had distanced myself rather than now being ashamed and hated." Henry responded with a sour voice. He was looking at everything like the glass was half empty. Never a good way to perceive things.
His son did not want to hear anymore. "Don't say that! I will go get Jo and I'll bring her safely back here. Now you just find a way home, and don't be so hard on yourself. I already know Adam was the culprit, not you." Abe hung up, not letting Henry say another word.
Henry covered his face with his hands, breathing deeply. Getting his act together. He then fixed his dishevelled hair, and exited the cubicle, finding the best way home...when you are in a place unknown to you. The best action was getting a taxi. Yellow cabs in New York were always easy to find. It was like finding an elephant in a haystack.
He drove as quickly as he could, but also with safety and between the diving limit. So, it wasn't as fast as suspected. He arrived at the port, same place he usually picked up Henry...every time he was in a fatal accident, which was more often than normal. Abraham was sometimes puzzled on how death followed everywhere his father went. Some people stayed alive for ninety years before death knocked on their door. His dad was approximately around two hundred and fifty years old...and he had already died over a dozen times, possibly even more. Death surely liked the door Henry possessed. Or perhaps the curse had something to do with it. Some people were unlucky, like a man who was struck by lightning twice in his life.
He got out of his car, walking close to the water, leaning over the side, trying to find the detective, half not looking since he knew she would be in her birthday suit; one of the only suits that made everybody too embarrassed to look at...usually. It was hard for him to see, the surface of the water seemed black from the night sky reflecting on it. He hoped Henry wasn't wrong, if not he would never see the detective ever again.
He kept eying the water with precision. He let out a long breath when he noticed ripples, then splashes of water appearing next to the pier. Something had emerged...and was perfectly alive and well.
He had a blanket ready, and he outstretched his hand, waiting for it to be clasped. He felt Jo's wet shivering hand, and pulled her out of the water (she was lighter than he had anticipated). Abe shut his eyes, giving the shaking woman the blanket. Abe knew clothes would be much more comfortable, but he did not tend to have women's clothing lying around his house. After a couple of seconds, he opened his eyes, looking Jo straight in the face.
"Welcome back..." The poor woman looked shocked out of her wits, and was having a hard time breathing. "Breathe, Jo breathe. Don't hyperventilate, having a panic attack will not resolve anything." Abe said calmly, taking her arm and walking her slowly to the car. This was going to impact and alter Jo's life atomically.
She couldn't breathe. Being underwater would do that to a human. Jo moved her arms and feet, trying to get to the surface. The water was ice cold and she didn't want to lose any fingers or toes to hypothermia. Her mind was focused on not drowning. Just being shot and killed wasn't invading her mind for the moment, only the instinct for survival.
She emerged, needing to get warm fast. She started swimming towards the pier. Suddenly, a hand appeared from above her. She could see the face attached to the hand enough to know who it was. Abraham Morgan.
Jo realised she was naked, but was offered a blanket by the closed eyed man. That's when she remembered...she had died.
The air in her lungs felt heavy, like it was having trouble coming out. She was starting to have a panic attack. The only reason she calmed down was because Abe was there, speaking with a soft tone. She followed him to the car, hands and legs shaking, and not only because she was cold.
"Where's...Henry?" Her teeth chattered fervently.
"We'll meet him at home, and please help him, he sounded quite depressed on the phone." Abe answered frowning.
"What? He's depressed? I just got shot, died, and now cursed...why is he depressed?" Jo asked, half joking.
"He thinks that everything is his fault."