XXIV.

It wasn’t until Romel had made it half-way around the house that the explosion hit. The startling sound drew from Romel an unexpected pride, as if he’d done something noteworthy. And maybe he had, or at the very least, taken a step toward doing something noteworthy. He’d find out soon.

Crouching toward the window which Melpomene had busted in through, Romel again gave himself up to the emotions of the torturers. Just as he’d hoped, they’d all left the room to attend to the explosion. Not wanting to spend an unnecessary second in the heads of those monsters, he immediately retreated back into his own mind. Then, he poked his head up so it was at window level and peered into the room.

What he saw was discomforting. In the midst of what was otherwise a perfectly normal living room were two human beings, the kidnapped girl and Melpomene, sitting back to back, strapped to chairs, both bloody, their heads hung low. At their feet were pools of red, growing every moment by way of a constant drip coming from their wounds. As if by instinct, Romel reached out to Melpomene with his powers, wanting to see if there was anything left of the man inside that badly beaten form. He found there a glimmer, a small spark, a pitiful little light wishing to be put out. It was, in short, the feeling one has when they wish to die.

It actually made Romel tear up. That stabilizing surety Melpomene gifted him with was about to be extinguished. Unless, of course, Romel could revive it. Bring it back by living out Melpomene’s ideals. If he became a hero, Melpomene would be vindicated, his faith in his cause would be restored. And Romel could sink right back into the comfort of the man’s confidence. Yes, that’s what would happen.

He climbed up through the window and entered the room, trying his best to make no noise. Inside, he ran to the victim pair. He untied the girl first. It’s what Melpomene would do. Then, he lifted her up in his arms, the way he’d seen action stars carry damsels in distress. It was a lot harder than in the movies. She weighed a fair amount. But not so much that he couldn’t do it. Laboring, he walked her over to the window.

In the other room, the torturers were yelling at one another, panicking over the fire. By then, it must have started spreading beyond their control. One of them, he seemed to Romel to be their leader, was threatening loudly to kill whoever did this. It was inspiration to hurry out the window with the girl. Tucking her head to his shoulder, he swung one foot out, then the next, and jumped down onto the ground. It was hell on his knees, landing with all that extra weight, but he managed to keep his balance. He gathered himself, then took off toward the fence.

It wasn’t a fast trot. Bearing the girl across the yard was tough work. But as he did it, something occurred which made all the effort worth it. The girl, cradled in his arms, awoke.

In a pained voice she asked, “Wh--who are you…?”

Romel, who had not been expecting to hear anything but the stamping of his feet on the ground, looked down at her startled. It took him an extended second to say, “I’m…nobody. Just someone trying to help.”

“Y-you’re…you’re rescuing me?” she asked. As she did, she reached up and touched his face with the tips of her fingers.

Her touch filled him with strength. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“That’s…that’s so nice…” she said, her voice weak. Her hand fell back to its place at her side. Then, turning her head to look to where Romel was taking her, she said, “Thank you.”

Romel didn’t know how to respond. All he could think to say was, “You’re welcome.”

No sooner had he said this, they arrived at the fence. Initially, Romel had intended, come whatever harm to him that may, to strap the girl to his back and climb over, using that same determination he’d used to get up to the window. Once there, he would have left her on the other side and gone back for Melpomene. Now, another idea occurred to him.

“Are you OK enough to move?” he asked her.

Grunting, she gave it a try. She turned over in his arms.

“I…I think so…” she said.

“If I give you a boost, could you get over that fence?”

“Maybe…”

“Let’s give it a try.” Romel set the girl down on her feet.

Though it took her obvious effort, the girl stood. Romel cupped his hands together and offered them to her. The girl gripped the fence with one hand, used it to maintain her balance, then placed one of her feet into the foothold Romel had made of his palms.

“Good so far?” he asked.

The girl gave him a weak little nod, then tugged herself upward. His hands holding firm, Romel aided her over the fence. She landed on her feet on the other side.

Up above, the sun shone bright.

“Get out of here. Find somewhere safe. Call your family or the police and tell them to pick you up,” Romel instructed her from beyond the fence.

“You’re not coming with me?” the girl asked.

“I can’t. Someone I care about is still inside and I’ve got to rescue him too.”

“Can I at least know your name?”

Romel almost told her out of instinct. But, he remembered something Melpomene said when Romel had first met him: “I don’t do this for the recognition.” It was one of those silly sayings Romel had since come to associate with Melpomene’s craziness. A craziness, it seemed, which he found great utility in. Wanting to both uphold his partner’s ideals and give the girl an answer to her question, Romel said: “If all goes as I expect it to…you can call me The Martyr.”

Reaching through the fence, the girl again touched his face. “I hope not,” she said.

“Yeah, me too,” said Romel. Then, without knowing from where these words came, nor what they meant, he continued, “But sooner or later, it seems, all of us end up a martyr for some cause or another. I guess it’s good that I found mine.”

With that, he took off running, back to the rear of the house.

Arriving once more at the window, he reached out with his powers to see if the coast was clear. The torturers were still in the kitchen, growing more desperate with every passing second. More desperate and more incensed. They wouldn’t admit to themselves that the house was lost. When they did though, Romel knew, there’d be hell to pay for anyone near them. Romel hopped up onto the windowsill hoping with his own feelings he and Melpomene would be long gone by that time.

He was at his partner’s back in an instant, untying the older man’s hands. It was slippery work. Romel’s hands were sweating from nerves. But the torturers, they’d not grown up boyscouts. The knots were tied sloppily. Romel managed to get them undone quickly. Melpomene’s hands, now free, dropped to his sides, limp as his head.

It was to Melpomene’s head that Romel now turned his attention. Grabbing it by both sides, he shook it, trying to wake its owner. “Come on, Melpomene,” he whispered harshly, still shaking, “I know you’re in a bad way, but you’ve got to come back to me, man.”

His efforts had no effect. Still, with childish hopefulness, he kept it up. Until, that is, an interruption came.

Outside the room, the sound of metal colliding with tile. A rattling followed, a haunting CLING, CLING, CLING, CLING, loud and fast at first, then slower, softer, until the sound had run its course and stopped. There were many potential causes for such a sound. But under the circumstances, there was one more likely than the rest: a fire extinguisher cast to the floor.

The torturers had given up putting out the fire.

“Dammit, Melpomene,” begged Romel through gritted teeth, grabbing the man by his coat and jerking him violently, “we don’t have any more time!”

Coughing voices, furious and vowing vengeance, were now on their way to the room.

“Melpomene…please…” said Romel. Then, he slapped the man, hard.

As if by a miracle, this last tactic worked. Blinking, Melpomene came awake. There was grogginess in his eyes. He was in obvious pain. But, he was awake. He was awake!

“Romel…?” Melpomene asked, his voice a meek little wheeze. It was the first time Romel heard it unfiltered. It was so…tragically human. Were he not in a hurry to get away from the house, he might have been swept up in sadness once more.

Instead, he said, “Yeah, Melpomene, it’s me. But we can’t talk now. We’ve got to get out of here.” As he spoke, Romel tugged Melpomene until the older man stood. Not wasting a second, Romel guided Melpomene toward the window.

If carrying the girl had been difficult, this was a labor of Herculean proportions. Though Melpomene was walking, it was only by leaning heavily on his smaller, frailer partner. Romel was supporting almost all the man’s weight. Still, as he’d done with the girl, he forced himself forward. He had to. The voices were getting closer.

As they neared the window, Melpomene, for the first time since standing, uttered a noise. A strange noise under the circumstances. It was a little chuckle.

Romel, who was concentrating all his efforts on the twofold task of supporting Melpomene while listening for the proximity of the voices coming toward them, was taken aback by this to say the least. How could Melpomene be laughing at a time like this? What could be funny? Fortunately, Melpomene didn’t keep him in suspense for long.

He said, his voice once more it’s regular growl, “I…should never…have doubted.”

Settling the man on the window, Romel replied while catching his breath, “Yeah? Never have doubted what?”

“That good…wins.”

Beneath his bandana mask, a smile spread on Romel’s face. The saddening he’d experienced feeling Melpomene give up, hearing Melpomene speak in a whimper, all of that was wiped away in a moment. Melpomene and his sure convictions were back. Nothing could have brought Romel more joy, knowing that soon enough he could sink back into the warm comfort of Melpomene’s irrationally confident ego, and there, find rest and peace. Yes, it was a sweet elixir, that short phrase of Melpomene’s. An elixir so powerful, it paralyzed Romel, sent him off for just a second into a dream world, a better world than the one he lived in now. A world where he had to fight to hold back his powers, exert untold effort in order to feel like he was good.

That second in the dream world cost him. Because that second was the difference between escape through the window and the trio of torturers finding Romel and Melpomene still in the house.