How to Raise an Assassin

CHAPTER 24: I HATE EVIL PARENTS

It took seconds to rush back into the school, grab an emergency stash of weapons (don't tell the principal), a medical kit to stack into my book bag, and call Xavier to give me a lift. He was outside in ten minutes, which felt like ten hours. Every minute I wasted was another minute Ash was suffering.

I gave Xavier the coordinates. It would take about forty minutes to get there. That was well within the time limit, but I couldn't sit still the whole ride. Ash was in trouble because of me. Someone who wanted to teach me a lesson kidnapped him, beat him, and tortured him. He was being held in Reaper territory. North of Chicago, up to the border of the state, was all Reaper territory. The south was controlled by the Locusts.

Was my father involved in this? If he was, I swore I would pull a Noa and try to stab him. Ash didn't deserve this.

Yet, a rational part of me kept nagging. I shouldn't care about Ash being tortured and killed. He was the one who abandoned me. Plus, he had only been my friend for a week. Why was it so important that I risked my life to rescue someone I barely knew and who tricked me into joining his father's criminal organization?

Then I thought back to the slight warmth I had when we sat in the jacuzzi together. It wasn't just the surrounding water that kept me warm. Somehow, I found someone who liked me, even while knowing what I did. It felt like I wasn't alone for the first time in years. When he managed to get other kids to at least talk to me at school after the dodgeball game, it showed he could lead me out of the black hole my life had been in ever since Noa left.

When I was falling to my death, it was Ash who was there to save me; now I needed to do the same and be there for him.

"We're here Ms. Mata," Xavier announced from the driver seat. The black sedan pulled to a stop near a yacht club under renovation. Save for the presence of construction equipment, metal rods, sheets of wood, and countless tools, the place had no signs of life.

"Wait here and figure out the way to the closest hospital while I'm gone."

"Will do Ms. Mata," Xavier pulled out his smartphone to start researching. Xavier was clutch when it came to doing what I told him. He rarely offered any bite-back, nor did he ever question where I was going or what I was doing. He was paid to be my driver and protect me if need be, but not to ask questions. That's a good quality in a worker being employed by a family of assassins.

I stopped at a metal fence that was chained and locked. A sign warned visitors to keep out as the area was under construction. Usage of hard hats were required. I climbed the fenced and flipped myself over the top and landed on the other side. Still in my school uniform, my red dress got torn a bit by a loose strand of metal from the fence. Dust kicked up and instantly clung onto my white blouse with the school's logo on it. I raced forward into the site, divided by a blue tarp. Once inside I took care to watch my surroundings. I didn't need any surprises shooting from the darkness and paralyzing me again.

The sunlight from the outside only stretched so far. As an assassin I got used to navigating in the dark, but the transition from light to darkness was difficult for anyone. It took a couple of minutes before I could make out the contour of planks of wood stacked in one corner with a saw next to it. I noticed a toolbox with a hammer, screwdriver, and nails. I picked it up to examine it.

The hammer felt sticky in parts, the screwdriver thick and gooey, and the nails crusty and prickly. The substance smelled like iron. It looked dark in the low-lit space, darker than the area around it.

It was blood.

I heard the clanging of metal echo from another room. My cat-like reflexes flickered. I took cover behind the pile of wood and inched my way around the corner to get a better view. I noticed another tarp dividing this room from the next. I pulled out a knife and creeped closer towards the tarp.

I took a deep breath and then hastily pulled it back. On the other side was a clanging echo of the hulls of multiple yachts, covered in more tarp. Some were as tall as three stories in a hangar that could store airplanes. However, there was one simple sailing yacht that was pretty small, and not covered in any tarp. It was pretty massive for a sailing yacht, perhaps able to fit dozens of people.

I made my way towards it. A wooden ladder rested against the hull of the ship. I climbed it until I reached the deck. It was barren, save for a couple of ropes piled in different corners. A door beside me led below deck. I edged towards the side of the door and slowly pushed it open. It creaked on its hinges, which probably alerted anyone within earshot that something was up. The stairs led down to oblivion. There was no way to see. As much as I wanted to rely on hearing, I needed to look for signs of where Ash was being held.

I pulled out a pair of glasses from my schoolbag. I slipped them on and activated a button on the side that allowed me to see with night vision mode. The things money could buy you. Thank God I kept a stash of supplies in my school locker behind a false wall.

But upon putting them on, I wished I hadn't. I saw a trail of dried blood leading down the steps. I followed it down two stories to the bottom of the hull. The blood got wetter the more I followed it down the stairs into a cargo hold. It was there that I finally realized this wasn't a prank by Ka to throw a surprise party.

Because tied up against the wall barely clinging to life was Ash.

My assassin instincts were tossed out the window. I ran towards him cradling his head and body upward to reduce the strain on his right shoulder, which was dislocated as his arm was tied to a chain hanging a couple of feet above him. His face looked like an eggplant, purple and bruised. Blood stained his school uniform. He was kidnapped on his way to school.

That hit me the hardest. I was busy hating Ash for not showing up, thinking he was trying to ruin me and let the class think I was the murderer he knew I was. Yet, he was snatched on his way to school. And I wasn't there to help him.

I scanned the area and located a set of keys hanging on a hook well out of Ash's reach, but with a little bit of a springy jump followed by a wall climb, I snatched them and landed back on the ground. I unlocked Ash and laid him gently on the ground. I listened to his chest. His heart hushed like a baby about to fall asleep. His lungs wheezed in silence. When I pulled back my ear, it was covered in his pasty blood.

I ripped open his shirt and saw a puncture wound just below the ribcage. Blood was still oozing out of it. I needed to do something. I pulled out my medical kit. I found a bottle of alcohol, iodine, a wrap of gauze, medical tape, bandages, painkillers, and other well-known med-kit supplies. What I needed to save Ash was something that's not in a normal med-kit.

I pulled out a syringe and filled it with a medicine that would aid in clotting his wounds. I jabbed it in the area near the puncture wound. I administered a dosage of morphine to help with the pain. Then I got to work disinfecting the wound with a solvent of alcohol and nanotechnology that can enter through the wound to aid in the immune system's response to fight foreign bodies and heal any damaged organs. I applied the solvent to the puncture wound, and to the slashes across his face. I wrapped up his chest with gauze and moved to release some of the pressure of the swelling in his head by injecting it with an anti-inflammatory medicine that also cooled down the area.

I then went to pop his shoulder into his socket, but I warned him, "This will hurt like Hell." Too bad he couldn't hear me.

I heard the bone snap satisfactorily back into place. Then I heard the unsatisfactory yelp gulp from Ash's mouth. His eyes popped open, and then my adrenaline caved.

"Ash," I said, trying to fight back tears.

Ash raised his good hand weakly. He caressed my face and smiled. "Zay." I hugged him and lost the fight to reign in my emotions. Tears were floating down my cheeks. Tears of sadness that Ash had to suffer such torment. Tears of joy that he was somehow alive. Tears of triumph that I had managed to save him—that his situation wouldn't end up like Noa's.

Tears of anger that burned my cheeks and made my veins swell to the surface of my skin.

I pleaded for Ash to tell me the truth to the most important question I'd ever asked him. "Tell me who did this to you."

A new voice entered the picture. It was a familiar voice. Footsteps accompanied that voice, but he stopped just short of getting within striking distance of me.

"That," said the Mayor with his arms crossed, "would be me."