G.U.A.R.D. Book #4: Tracked

-2-

    Hot water poured over my body, over the new bruises, washing away the dried blood. I turned it off, standing still for a few moments. Water dripped to the floor. With a deep breath, I gingerly stepped out of the curtain and grabbed my towel, rubbing myself with its white material. It slipped from my right hand, and I grunted, gritting my teeth. Once it was back in my grip, I tied it around my hips and gave the missing middle finger a disapproving stare. It was less than half of what it used to be, healed at the top by Cindy's metahuman power.

Dang. Cindy. It had been a whole three and a half hours since I thought of her last. A record. Three and a half hours since I had thought about her blonde bob, her green highlight, her stunning eyes. Three and a half hours since I felt the familiar ache in my chest. The reminder that she was gone.

I shook my head, grabbing a comb from the counter. One stroke. Two strokes. My eyes wandered to the mirror. Some of my facial bruises were turning a yellow color, but the new ones, courtesy of Cleve, were deep blue and purple. Basically, my face was a mess. I would be glad when they were gone, and I got my looks back. Well... as good as I looked beforehand. I wasn't the most attractive, but it wouldn't hurt to get rid of these colorful blotches.

Once my brown hair was decently combed, I gave it another run-through with my towel, then dressed. The strands were getting longer, shaggier. I wondered if G.U.A.R.D. had a barber. Looking at myself in the mirror again, I noticed how similar my cheekbones and facial structure was to Ally's. It was about the only physical appearance we shared. Her hair was wavy and black; mine was straight and brown. Her eyes were blue; mine were brown. Her face was near free of blemishes; mine had the random freckle here and there, not the mention the zit growing on my temple.

Needless to say, she got the looks of the family.

Then I thought of Jade Gold. Our older sister. She had straight hair, like me, but it was black like Ally's. Her eyes were blue, too, and her cheekbones strong, like all of us. I guess she was a mix of us two. Or maybe we were a mix of her—we did come after.

When I opened the bathroom door, I found Tim sitting on his bottom bunk, reading. Heat entered my cheeks, partly from annoyance, partly from embarrassment, and I decided the best route was to ignore him. So I strode in and put my clothes in the dresser.

"Logan," he said, as if he had been waiting.

I sighed, straightening. "What?"

"I'm sorry. About Athena."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. On top of the dresser was my keycard lanyard, and I draped it around my neck.

"Logan, really," Tim said, standing. Though he never specified his age, his scrawny build and height led me to believe he was only entering his teenage years. With his blond hair and boyish face, the guy was easy to overlook in a crowd, but I had come to realize Tim didn't overlook anything. He was intelligent and constantly figuring out things most people would never dream of. Almost as if he were trained. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"You don't have to apologize for her, Tim. It's not like it makes a difference, anyway."

I walked past him, opening the bedroom door. Just before I closed it again, though, I leaned back in the room.

"Why do you even hang out with her?"

Tim looked at me as he seated himself on the bed. Then he shrugged. "I... understand her."

I breathed through my nose, then left him. The dorm building had three floors, and all the hallways sported black carpeting with white walls. I only lived on the second floor, but the others lived on the third.