SIX

Time itself seemed to come to a standstill.

Hikaru didn't hesitate. She elbowed the man in the gut, slamming a hand into his face afterward. The man let out a grunted cry. The gun in his hand clattered to the floor; his grip on her faltered. Her leg swung around and caught the man against the back. He collapsed onto his stomach. She landed a punch to his neck. He moaned softly, rolling in pain on the marbled flooring, before he stilled.

A childlike scream flooded the air.

"Mommy!"

That cry alone chilled the soul. The little girl clutched at her mother, tears flooding down her cheeks. The woman's white blouse was covered with a bright red pattern.

Wait…

The pattern was quickly spreading across her chest, like the gentle blooming of crimson petals. It slipped through her fingers and over the hand clutching her chest, droplets slipping downward to stain her skirt. The woman's eyes were wide with shock; she gurgled for breath. She slowly fell, collapsing onto her side.

The child screamed again.

Hikaru rushed to the woman, dropping onto her knees at her side. Zach went to the little girl and gathered her into his arms. She sobbed, her small hands clinging to him – yet she stared at her mother, watching as Hikaru ripped open the woman's blouse. Zach cradled the little girl, trying to whisper soft words of comfort into her ear, but they felt hollow and void as they fell from his lips.

There's so much blood.

The crimson liquid stained Hikaru's gloves as she frantically tried to stem the blood loss. Her hands glowed lightly. The skin struggled to knit together. Flesh was torn beyond recognition. The blood overflowed and seeped through her fingers.

"I can't…" whispered Hikaru, the white glow of her healing ability illuminating the blood. "I can't stop the blood flow. Too many bullets. It's too much—the damage. It's not healing." There was a pause; she let out an anguished gasp. "It's her heart and lungs."

"Smash!" shouted Zach, his head whipping upward. The little girl flinched in his arms. He patted her on the back. "Call for an ambulance! Spark, Peach, take care of the last criminal. Blaze, get Sullivan."

The others didn't hesitate at his orders. The other hostages tried to clear the area around the woman. Someone placed a hand onto the little girl's back, trying to comfort her. Zach continued to rock her in his arms, hoping to calm her down – but she wouldn't be consoled.

He couldn't blame her.

The woman had long stopped breathing.

Her little voice sobbed 'Mommy' over and over, the unforgettable word playing endlessly in his ears. Each time he heard that cry, he was reminded of another time – one he wanted to both forever forget and always remember. Within his mind, the cries of the little girl blended with the cries of a little boy – one who, too, had cried out for his mother so many years ago.

Blood stained the floor.

Tears streamed down Hikaru's face; she never stopped trying to save the woman, whose chest rose no more. The seconds passed like years, while the minutes passed like seconds. Zach wasn't fully aware. The bank foyer filled with officers. The criminals were handcuffed and taken away. The remaining hostages were led outside. It passed by in a blur.

And all the while, Hikaru never stopped.

Not even when the medics arrived.

Her healing abilities couldn't mend the destroyed organs. The medics pried her away. Hikaru sat back on her heels about two feet away and watched with blank eyes as they inspected the woman. One of them shook his head, a grim expression on his features. Hikaru looked down at her blood covered hands. The medics lifted a sheet over the woman's face.

One of the officers tried to take the little girl away from Zach, much to his reluctance. She fought like a lion to stay with him. There was nothing he could do. She screamed as two officers pulled her out of his arms. Finally, she wrapped her arms around the officer holding her, giving in and sobbing harder than ever.

It shredded his heart.

Zach stood up, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness crashing through his soul. He would never forget her voice. He would never forget her face. He would never forget her white blonde hair and her tear filled blue gold eyes – they were etched inside his mind.

She never stopped crying.

Dark brown eyes connected with bright crystal blue. Shock glimmered in Hikaru's eyes; tears never faded there. He knew what she was thinking. Those same thoughts were filling his mind.

Failed.

They had failed when it had counted the most. The woman had lost her life. That little girl was now motherless. She would grow up always remembering how her mother died – how she was killed. She would have to grow up without her mother, without that special, vital support – she was alone.

The pain twisted Zach's chest, its depth nearly dragging him to his knees. No matter how much he wanted to move, he was rooted. Past memories tore through his mind with a vengeance. Their sounds drowned out the chaos around him. The ghosts of the mind threatened to destroy him, but he fought back, forcing them into the recesses of his mind.

I can't dwell on that right now.

My team—my family needs me.

The rest of his friends watched the chaos with stricken eyes and thinned lips. Brielle kept her head turned, while Jacob had his eyes closed. Drake watched the officers, while Sevati stared at the white sheet that covered the woman. Zach wanted to go to them, offer some kind of comfort. They needed him.

But his voice was locked evermore.

Sullivan marched inside, barking orders and directing his men. Zach swallowed, bracing himself. His jaw tightened. The man would turn his attention onto him any moment now. He would blame all of this on Zach; it would be his fault. He was supposed to have the power to stop this.

But he didn't any more.

"And you," snapped Sullivan, his grey eyes flashing furiously as he pointed a finger at Zach. "Come with me. Now."

I knew it.

Zach took a stalling second to take a deep breath. He'd barely taken two steps forward when Sullivan clamped a hand onto the back of his neck and roughly steered him forward. Zach gritted his teeth, unable to protest against being manhandled the entire way towards an empty room of the bank. Once at the door, Sullivan pushed him inside with such force, Zach nearly tripped. The door slammed shut behind them. Zach whirled around, taking a step back and putting distance between them.

"Explain yourself," whispered Sullivan, darkness oozing through his tone. It sent a chill down Zach's spine. A shouting adult was always better than a whispering one. "In small, short words."

Zach sucked on the roof of his mouth. He swallowed back the bile in his throat. The textured material of his mask itched his skin. His gaze lowered; he could see the blazon red symbol on his chest, the badge of his subjugation.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"I… I messed up," whispered Zach.

A hand slammed against the wall; the abrupt, loud sound made Zach flinch, his head whipping up. The man's grey eyes narrowed, the fury overflowing.

"That's your excuse?!" shouted Sullivan. "I told you no failures. I told you no injuries! I thought it was self explanatory – or should I have been more clear and said no fatalities?!"

Zach looked at the ground.

"Answer me!"

There was another flinch. Zach swallowed again. "No, sir," he whispered. "You were clear."

His chest ached with deep, twisting agony. It was the weight of a thousand bricks. His mind understood: tragedy happened all the time on the job. This had been an accident. The criminal had had a gun. The bullet could've killed any of them. Instead, it had been a civilian.

It wasn't fair.

If this hadn't been real, if this had been a fantasy, if it had been a movie, the gun would've backfired on the criminal and he would've fallen as justice took over with dramatic flair.

But this wasn't a movie. This was reality – their reality. Someone had died – a mother of a little girl – all because a gun had gone off and none of them had the power to protect her. All these abilities and powers, and they hadn't been able to save one life.

It wasn't fair.

"Then, why did someone die?" demanded Sullivan, the fury rising with his voice. "If I was clear, why did you fail to protect the hostages?"

Zach continued to stare at the ground, trying to ignore the red in his line of vision. What more could he say? What could he possibly say to make this right? His badge of a hero was a mere lie.

"Look at me!" snapped Sullivan. "Look at me when I'm talking to you! Where's your respect?"

For you?

I have none.

As Zach forced his head upward, a loud crack resounded within the small room; his head whipped to the side at the force. His mask buffered the blow, but a sting bloomed in his cheek. Zach gritted his teeth, his jaw tense. He slowly turned his head back, looking up at the man once more.

Stand strong.

"This is unacceptable behavior," said Sullivan, his tone dropping like a stone. "This has become progressively worse with every assignment given to you. Why did that criminal shoot that gun? Why wasn't he stopped with your powers? Why didn't you tell him to stop?"

Lie through your teeth.

"I'm sorry, I messed up," said Zach, keeping his tone even and respectful. It was softer than he liked, though. "It all happened so fast, I didn't get a chance. It's my fault—"

A second crack smashed into his cheek, the force double in power. Zach staggered backwards, grabbing onto a nearby desk for support. His hands curled. He pushed himself up and looked back at the man. His clenched fists trembled at his sides.

"Do not lie to me," snarled Sullivan. "You're protecting a unit member, aren't you? Who failed this time?"

Zach shook his head. "It was my fault, sir," he said, his voice strong. "I'm not protecting anyone."

Sullivan narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything. There was a long moment of silence. The blood in Zach's ears roared above it. His twice abused cheek now throbbed.

No weakness.

"This isn't the first time you've messed up," said Sullivan, after another long moment. His eyebrows furrowed, dark puzzlement entering his expression. "It's getting worse lately. Why?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll do better next time."

"You said that the last time," snapped Sullivan. "But this time someone died!"

"I know," whispered Zach; his heart twisted. "I'm sorry. It was an accident."

The light inside Sullivan's eyes went dark. It was so hardened, so cold that it sent a chill down Zach's spine. He stood there, waiting for the third strike. It had to come – that look said it all.

But it didn't.

"There isn't any room for accidents in this life or in this work, One," said Sullivan in an ominous whisper. He put emphasis on the hated title. "Your only job was to protect those people and capture the enemy. It wasn't difficult – and yet… you failed."

"Yes, sir," whispered Zach. He never wavered; he refused to look away. Those grey eyes pierced his heart with their coldness, but he didn't allow it to show. His shoulders fell back; his chest rose. His chin lifted slightly and his hands unclenched.

Never show weakness.

"Those who fail are never remembered," whispered Sullivan, continuing in that terrible tone. "Those who fail are not given unlimited chances. Am I understood?"

A shiver crawled up Zach's spine. "Yes, sir."

"Get out of my sight," said Sullivan, waving a dismissive hand. He turned to the side, putting his hands onto his hips. His lips curled with disgust. Zach went straight for the door. He paused when the man said, "This better not happen again, understood? You know what happens to units who don't do their job."

Yes, I know.

And I won't let that happen to my team.

"I understand, sir."

Zach strode out the door. He quickly walked back to the lobby of the bank. The flurry of activity droned in his ears, melding together into a dull buzz. His gaze caught sight of the pool of blood. His eyes snapped upward; his heart thumped against his chest. Zach took a deep breath, keeping his strides long and brisk. He plowed through the groups of medics and officers, lowering his head.

He didn't want to look at their faces.

Once outside, he made a beeline for the nearest sidewalk ledge. When he reached it, Zach sat on the pavement and rested his elbows onto his knees, dropping his face into his hands. His eyes burned. He could hear the people around him and feel their presence, but he kept his head down, his thoughts racing a hundred miles an hour. Over and over again, his mind replayed the scene, trying to see if the next time would, somehow, be different.

But it never was.

It wasn't going to change. Each time, bullets would pierce her heart and shred her lungs. Each time, her heart would stop. Each time, Hikaru's hands would be covered in blood. Replaying it wouldn't change the past. He knew all this, but he couldn't stop thinking, wondering if there had been anything he could've done to stop this terrible event.

Well, if he wasn't such a disappointment, then none of this would have happened. That much was clear.

His cheek throbbed.

Surely he could've prevented that woman's death. A year ago, Zach could've saved her. He knew it. That was the key to all of this: it was his fault she had died. It wasn't Hikaru's fault. Being discovered by the criminals had been bound to happen, as always. It wasn't like no one knew about Unit Twelve or hadn't heard rumors of their powers – it had only been a matter of time for one of the robbers to find her.

They weren't infallible.

It was an accident.

I should've been able to save her.

But he hadn't been able to – those anguish screams of a little girl, he had caused them; he had made a little girl cry.

He couldn't speak the truth. He couldn't tell Sullivan. His friends knew, but they never said anything. The moment he told anyone, then everything would change. His life would never be the same again. Their lives would end.

'Those who fail are not given unlimited chances.'

How many chances did he have left?

His poisoned thoughts continued to seep into his mind. For a few minutes, Zach couldn't move from the sidewalk. The late afternoon sun shone down brightly, unaware of the tragedy that had occurred. Its warmth beat down on his back, heating his suit, yet the chill of the November air countered it. He tried to collect himself. He needed to pull himself together. He had to present a strong front for the others.

Just another minute.

Voices spoke in low, hushed sounds. Zach shifted on the pavement, turning his head to the side slightly. He peeked through his hand, seeing two men standing a number of feet away. He recognized them, officers who worked beneath Sullivan. It seemed they hadn't noticed him sitting there.

"Do you think he'll come here? The news has been saying he's on the move again."

There was a low scoff.

"A man like that is faster than the news. If he left, then he's long gone. If Templeton is his next target, I bet he's already here."

Zach frowned, closing his eyes for better focus; he stilled.

"Is that why the chief is calling in extra security?"

His eyes popped open; faint light streamed through the cracks in between his fingers. He had noticed that. There had been far more officers on duty tonight – more than normal.

"I hope not. If he comes here, we've got our work cut out for us, not to mention those poor kids will have the fight of their lives – no unit has defeated him yet. There's plenty of hospitals, medical centers, clinics, and other facilities in this city. We have no way of knowing which one he'll target, unless he drops a hint like he usually does. Arrogant, that one. He could go to Philadelphia or Trenton." There was a low sigh. "Is it too much to hope that he'll just skip New Jersey altogether and go to New York?"

The other officer chuckled.

An icy chill slid down Zach's back. His breath stopped in his lungs; fear clutched at his heart. He moved one of his hands from his face and pressed it against his chest. He tried to breathe slowly.

They were talking about him.

Tales of this man had gone around the country for a few years now. The terrorist left in his wake carnage of monstrous proportions. His destruction was costing the country billions, perhaps trillions, of dollars – all because this mysterious man had some kind of agenda or vendetta that no one seemed able to figure out. Why target hospitals and clinics? Supposedly, the targeted hospitals were specialized ones and the fatalities weren't huge in number, but the death toll was still high and ever rising with each attack.

If that man was going to come to this city, then more people were going to die. Hospitals of that man's choosing would be blown up. The city would be terrified, wondering when the man would strike next.

That is, if Unit Twelve didn't do anything about it.

It was their responsibility to protect the lives of these people.

I can't live through another death like this. If this criminal comes to our city, we'll take him down no matter what. We can't go through this again.

But… Would they fail again?

A hand touched his shoulder. Zach took a deep breath and looked up. Drake stood over him; the muscles around his eyes crinkled with a pleading light. The hand withdrew and Zach nodded. He stood up, brushing himself off. The rest of the team stood nearby. Sevati and Brielle were looking away. Hikaru had Jacob in a tight hug; he clung onto her, his upper body shaking with silent tears. She looked over the boy's shoulders towards Zach, her gaze penetrating in its intensity.

Pain resided there.