Chapter 13: Chapter 12: Hidden Scars

While they were on the run, Sigal contacted the corps division to inform them of the situation. The whole operation took a turn for the worse, no one expected that they would get found out so soon. They just patrolled around Shuri Town as usual and acted with caution, yet the culprit took notice of them. This raised a lot of questions.

The smell of blood wafted into Cal’s nostrils stronger than ever as he hung over Sigal’s right shoulder; his gaze fixed in worry at the splotches of blood left on the cold cemented pavement. The pressure Sigal exerted to hold Cal firm left his injury in constant strain, which resulted in more and more blood seeping out.

It’s getting worse. Even his shirt is partly soaked with blood already.

Cal’s heartbeat increased, the unknown of the severity of Sigal’s wound drove him almost insane. Adrenaline pushed a person to their limit, yet what would happen if that loosened up? Cal also didn’t dare to resist in fear of worsening his partner’s injury.

“Sigal, please put me down already. I can run by myself!”

However, Sigal paid no heed and just kept going, his grip tight around Cal’s waist, while his eyes focused on reaching the destination he had in mind. Even if the corps division was informed and chased the perpetrator, they still needed to be cautious.

 

After a short while, Sigal turned around another corner and into a blind alley. He slowed down and scanned the area. Massive cement walls encircled the narrow street with one garbage container leaning against a wall.

Even though that traps us in, there is also no way we can get ambushed, which means if someone shows up, I will get to them first.

Sigal put Cal down and took his gun out. “Go! hide behind—”

“You…!” Cal bared his teeth; all the pent-up frustration and worry overtook him in an instant. “Why would you carry me when you are injured? There was no need for that!”

“So you can do something reckless again?” Sigal glanced at him, but then eyed the entrance of the alley. “You never listen! I told you to stay put, didn’t I?”

“Reckless? You want to talk about being reckless?” Cal clenched one hand to a fist. “You ran straight off into an obvious trap! Maybe you should start listening to your own advice.”

Sigal clicked his tongue. “I have no time to argue with you. We still don’t know if they are pursuing us or how many there are.”

Reminded of what really mattered right now, Cal stared at his partner’s back; his white tattered shirt soaked in blood. “Let me check your wound.”

“It’s just a scratch, no need to make a fuss over it.”

“If you don’t let me check your wound, I will do what you expect me to do.” Cal crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze clear and unwavering.

Sigal whipped his head around. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

The cold sweat visible on Sigal’s forehead, along with his change in movements, all indicated that he exhausted himself, yet he tried to play it off. His wound needed to be treated and that by any means necessary.

Sigal gritted his teeth. This young man was more cunning than he thought. With the posture the other displayed and the brimming determination reflecting in his eyes, Sigal couldn’t tell if Cal only put on an act or if he would march right into some trouble. The latter was something he couldn’t take the risk for. “Fine.”

He walked to the rear side of the garbage container and sat down in a way that he still could glance around the corner, noticing anyone drawing closer and ready to take up arms before anyone else could.

The young investigator moved behind him and squatted down. Then he peeled the thick with blood-soaked part of the shirt apart to take a closer look at his wound. The bullet grazed him at the backside of his right arm, right below his shoulder by leaving a long gash of 2 inches in length and 0.4 inches in width.

Cal let out a sigh of relief. Thank god, the bullet didn’t enter his body. He should be fine as soon as it gets stitched up, but…

His eyelids drooped and his chest tightened as if someone held his heart in a tight grip and squeezed the life out of it.

There is so much blood. How can he pretend to be ok when he lost so much blood?

Cal gritted his teeth. “You are such an idiot…”

“You—”

Cal pressed his forehead gently against Sigal’s back and clenched his shirt with his hands. Guilt, frustration, helplessness, all these emotions crashed down like a tidal wave. So much so, that he couldn’t stop himself from trembling, fighting his tears back desperately. “You shouldn’t do that…not for me…”

Startled, Sigal choked back the rest of his words, his mouth agape. He didn’t understand why this young man cared so much for him; he never gave him a reason to. On the contrary, he treated him harsh, dejectedly and yet Cal didn’t let up, which left his mind in disarray.

Why are you always saying things like that…what are you hiding?

Cal retracted his forehead, loosened the grip on Sigal’s shirt and took off his own black blazer, which was part of the uniform they had to wear during patrolling. Underneath he wore a white half-sleeve shirt and on each side over his shoulders hung two holsters for his gun and ammunition. “Don’t move…I have to stop the bleeding." 

His voice still sounded somewhat quivery, yet Sigal remained silent, unable to find the right words to quell his partner’s worries.

After Cal confirmed that Sigal didn’t peek over his shoulder, he unbuttoned his shirt; his slender body covered in bandages. He unwrapped one of these, revealing old scars running along his pale skin. Then he put the lint on his lap before he buttoned up again and put his blazer back on.

He shifted to the right and put all his weight on his knees. “I can’t clean the wound but covering it up should do for now.”

Sigal only agreed with a slight nod, neither complaining, nor berating him. He just sat still in his position, letting Cal do as he pleased. He was like a docile puppy —more a wolf— way too docile for a man with his temper.

With a complicated expression, a mix of relief and confusion, Cal leaned forward wrapping the lint around his partner’s wound, carefully, yet firmly. Sigal didn’t even flinch one bit throughout the whole process but glanced at his arm where his gaze fell upon the bandage.

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“Are you carrying these around all the time?”

Cal froze in place, delaying his answer for a few seconds. “Kind of.”

Sigal narrowed his eyes and studied Cal’s expression for a moment, but then averted his gaze and flexed his newly patched-up arm. The lint provided support for his muscles, steadying them in place and, thus, easing his pain.

“…thanks…”

Cal’s heart skipped a beat; he thought his ears deceived him as those words left his partner’s mouth. This man never showed any form of gratitude towards him, let alone being compassionate, yet he clearly uttered a ‘thanks’, which rendered Cal speechless.

“Mn.”

 

The afternoon sun hung low, the stench worse than in a rest room at the worst district, yet the two investigators still hid in this dumpster of an alleyway —aside from the actual dumpster which mixed in an extra smell of dead meat and other better unexplored substances.

Neither of them had spoken for a long time, only the sound of birds chirping, and a soft breeze filled the air. Sigal still remained in a crouching position near the garbage container with his gaze fixed at the entrance of the alleyway, while Cal squatted behind him.

“You should rest some, let me keep watch for a while.” Cal broke the silence in worry that his partner was pushing himself too much. His treatment only somewhat contained the bleeding after all and didn’t fix the problem itself. Sigal still needed to receive proper medical attention and that better sooner than later.

“No, I am fine.”

“You must be exhausted; you lost a lot of blood. You need to rest!”

“I can’t rest yet.” Sigal’s voice sounded serious, almost intimidating.  Not until I know you are out of danger.

Cal found this behavior quite suspicious, as if Sigal wanted to say more but just stopped there. Now that he thought about it, this all started when his partner received a note from this stranger; his demeanor changed from being cautious to irritated, even anxious. He also wasted no time getting him out of Shuri Town, didn’t want him to follow and neither explained the reason.

“It has something to do with that note, hasn’t it?” Cal’s eyebrows drew together. “What exactly happened back there anyway? What was written on the note and who were you chasing?”

The young investigator had a lot of questions and he wanted answers.

“It doesn’t matter.”

There was not even a hint of hesitation in Sigal’s voice, he flat out refused him.

“How can it not matter?” Cal’s eyebrows drew together. “Even if you don’t like it, we are partners, so this concerns both of us. Judging by your reaction, it was something I should know about, so why are you hiding it from me?”

Sigal fell into silence for a moment, but then said, “What about you?”

Cal blinked in confusion. “What about me?”

“What I am asking is, are you telling me everything I should know?”

This caught Cal off-guard, unsure how to respond. “What do you mean?”

Right as Sigal wanted to say more, swift tapping noises resounded in the narrow alleyway which alerted both investigators. The sound grew louder and louder by the second until a shadow reflected in the sunlight at the end of the alley. Sigal gestured something to Cal, who nodded and right as that unknown figure turned around the corner, Sigal rose and aimed at the stranger while Cal peeked around the container, gun pointed in the same direction.

“Mr. Crawford! Mr. Vaughn!” a familiar voice resounded while the man flailed his arms into the air. “It’s only me.”

The man wore a black, thin yet sturdy field jacket and black tactical gloves, along with black pants and tactical boots. On his back he carried a sniper rifle and around his waist hung a belt with two holsters at the front —one for a gun and the other for a knife— and two at the back for ammunition. He was the leader of the corps division, Lucien Knox.

Sigal let out a sigh of relief, put the gun away and asked, “What’s the situation?”

“We found nothing.” Lucien shook his head. “We searched high and low and even contacted Mr. Griever and Mr. Hunt, but they also spotted nothing out of the ordinary. It’s as if they vanished into thin air.”

“What about that other guy?”

“None of your description matched anyone in the vicinity, but my men are still searching.”

“I see…” Sigal stroked his chin. “So, we can assume that this man was also involved in this.”

“Most likely.” Lucien nodded, but then he narrowed his eyes. “Are you two alright?”

“I am,” Cal said, “But Sigal needs immediate medical attention.”

“It’s not—“

Through the corner of his eyes Sigal caught Cal glaring at him, his eyes reflected anger as well as worry, which made him choke back the rest of his words. Then he let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, don’t look at me like that.”

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