Ultraviolet

Chapter 7

May 17, 33 AE

Mack was, essentially, benched.

It was impossible for his little breakdown to go unnoticed in a room filled with healers, and it didn't take long for someone to track down his last known supervisor while he was pitifully crouched in a corner, dry heaving. And no matter how much he tried to convince Amira he was fine, she shot down each of his arguments with an unimpressed look and ordered him to leave for the day.

Maybe he shouldn't have called her "Mimi" in an attempt to act playful; it obviously showed his lapse in judgement.

Thankfully, she at least allowed him to linger at the edge of the continuing commotion under the assumption that he was waiting for a ride home. But what Mack really intended was to stay and observe, and if Amira knew he was lying, she didn't call him out on it.

In exchange, Mack kept to his word and kept out of the way, sticking to the side of a neighboring building like a fly as he watched the scene play out without him. While he didn't exactly like his job in general, this was the part he preferred--the being able to help people part, not the witnessing buildings exploding part--and he wasn't even able to do anything now.

More than once, he caught his legs bouncing anxiously; he gave up trying to stop them after the fifth time.

As the minutes passed when all he could do was spectate, Mack felt himself grow weary. It wasn't long before the intervals between his yawns shortened, and head would bump against the cool brick wall behind him moments after his eyes drifted shut.

At some point, he must have actually dozed off because he awoke to the feeling of a cat's gentle tapping at his shoulder.

When Mack opened his eyes, he immediately looked down at the wall beside him, expecting to see a cat waiting to be petted. It took him a few blinks to realize there was nothing there, then another to realize someone was standing in front of him.

"Mack?" Jordan said, his voice sounding much softer than normal. "Are you okay?"

Mack blinked another time before looking at the ground around them.

"Did you see a cat?" he asked, searching for any sign of a furry face or tail. Mack really wanted to pet a cat just then.

"A cat?" Jordan repeated. "No, I don't think so."

"It was tapping me," Mack insisted, now scanning the bustle of guardians for a feline slipping between the commotion.

"Tapping? That was me."

Mack halted his search to finally get a good look at Jordan.

The other man did remind Mack of a gray cat. He was wearing a soft-looking long sleeved shirt that matched the color of the dark ash that clouded the lab's basement. His slim, ripped jeans, sharply contrasting with his pitch black belt, matched the shade of the concrete slabs that had broken off during the explosion. And his sneakers seemed to be painted by the thick smoke that rose into the clear blue sky just moments ago.

"Mack?" Jordan asked.

"I need to get out of here," Mack said without thinking, and even he was shocked to hear those words coming from his mouth.

And while a part of him still wanted to stay and help, he didn't take his words back.

"That's what I'm here for," Jordan said, as if Mack hadn't just said something completely unexpected. "My car's nearby."

A thought suddenly hit Mack, and his gaze snapped up from where he had still been staring at Jordan's shoes, and directly into the man's dark eyes.