Chapter 26: Icy Hot

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Accidentally pressing the connection button on the walkie talkie awakened a whole new problem for Obie to digest. While Rocky swore that his allegiance to the Capitol will reign hell upon her, Logan had allies of his own.

She's not dumb.

Logan did inform Obie about a man named Cian. He was supposed to tell Obie everything and she would in return about Logan's and Sam's deaths.

At first, she wasn't worried about it. Logan was practically under her arrest as he healed, which was unmistakably a reimbursement of her debt to him. While Cian was just one man, who was probably spying on the Capitol alongside him and deceased Sam.

But here's the problem.

The man, known as Cian, didn't claim on the radio that "he" was in a problem. He said "we" got a problem.

The word "we" referred to a subject pronoun.

A subject was a person, place or thing.

However, "we" indicated the subject pronoun was plural.

Plural meant more than one, ladies and gentlemen.

Therefore, Logan's baggage claim wasn't just one suitcase.

Unfortunately, he and his friend had a whole set up.

Obie didn't do too well with groups.

After the call, Obie hung up on Cian during his pleas for help.

Obie couldn't help, but feel guilty because the matters appeared pressing. The walkie talkie couldn't stop flashing red for the next day. In other words, Cian kept on calling Logan in desperate need for something. She guessed it was the urgency to live; not particularly him, but most likely their entire unit.

She couldn't ignore the call forever, not as long as Logan's alive.

Obie had a lot of thinking to do.

Her thoughts were typically preoccupied with her father. The vampire slowly diminished into a missing thought that was less likely of discovery over the broadening idea of her secretive father. Linking Logan's statement about Dr. Darby to the bottle of pills in her father's mancave indisputably triggered doubts.

The suspicions made it easier for Obie to ignore Logan's acquaintance. She spent the day looking through her parents' bedroom, her father's mancave and...kind of everywhere for information. But, of course, Obie ended the search with the similar mindset that she had in the beginning; entirely unsatisfied.

She tried to search through Logan's truck.

She didn't find anything in that damn jacket either.

If he was hiding documents, they wouldn't be anywhere scavengers could find. They would only be where Logan can uncover himself.

The real question was how can she get him to talk?

"Remember this photo, B." Obie laid back against her parents' bed and held the frame above her face.

Her mom snapped a photo of her dad dressing Burrito in a spider costume. It was supposed to scare Obie, while she was getting out of the shower. The plan failed miserably, especially when her mom and dad were caught chuckling in the corner.

"You are the smallest possum I'd ever seen." Obie laughed, smoothing B's hair as she curled under her nonexistent chest. "I ain't never seen a possum in Brooklyn before. The most we got were squirrels."

"I hated squirrels." She whispered. "Dad hated them more. I left the backdoor open once. I guess one got smart and decided to come in. My dad practically fucked up his basement chasing after it. I remember something crashed like a glass."

Obie sulked. "He had a fit. He yelled at my mom. He yelled at me. I thought he was going to grab the switch when I went down and tried to help him. I never seen him so angry."

Burrito ran off her chest to eat some dead crickets she found in a pet store not too long ago. Obie prolonged. "He sent me up to my room. I stayed up there for about four hours watching Iron man 1 and 2. Then, he just barged in. He looked so sorry. He looked like he could cry, honestly. He asked me to go downstairs with him...a-and I did."

She looked at B. "But I don't remember what we did when we got down there."

Obie stopped looking at the photo, remembering the dream about her mom and dad discussing shock therapy. The dream felt like a lost memory than a conjured tale. Though, it had to be. It didn't make sense.

She knew her parents.

She knew her mom.

She damn sure knew her dad.

....

Did she?

Twenty minutes later, Obie was standing over Logan's restless body with a series of instruments laid out on the floor.

Bucket of metal nails.

Needle.

A lighter.

Hammer.

Icy Hot cream.

Obie had to resort to these tools if he didn't wake up in five minutes.

"Logan."

"Logan!" she said a little louder.

"Logan?" Obie rocked his body a bit with her hands, then wiped them on his clothes. "...eh."

"Logan?!" she kicked his leg. "Hello!?"

It's been like four freaking days.

"Wake up!" Obie exclaimed.

No movement.

"Fine. You leave me no choice." She stooped low to the ground, touching the series of resources to wake him and lingered around the bucket. "Hmm. I wouldn't want to use my father's nails. You might dirty them."

Her eyes peeked to the side, watching Logan.

Nothing.

"I would try the needle, but I can't waste all my medical supplies."

Nothing.

She carefully observed his face, flicking the lighter to fuel the small flame. "Nothing like a third degree burn?"

Nothing.

"Or I can use the hammer. Should I do your toes or your fingers?" Obie awaited. "Nah, it'll be harder for you to talk afterwards."

"Wait, wait. I got it." Obie laughed. "Maybe Icy Hot."

Nothing.

Obie grabbed her knees as she erected with the Icy Hot tube in her hand.

She played a dangerous game, while opening the top slowly. "I don't know what's going to hurt you more. That terrible feeling when I put it on your cuts or...the burning itch when I put it on your dick."

Almost immediately, Logan's eyes shot open with a mighty glare.

"Good morning." she smirked.

His hair was clumped in a brown, muddy mess with tiny flicks of dandruff hanging on the edges. That afro mane of his suffered the most unhygienic casualty, whereas the rest were on the verge of being considered for cleanliness.

Barely.

Couple days ago, Obie attempted her best to wash his olive tan skin with the baby wipes. The aggressive vampire bites were altering into either white lined scars or puckered holes for him to be ashamed of for the remainder of his survival; she would know. They extended from his neck to his feet like unwelcomed décor that was impossible to be rid of...unless blinding oneself.

She couldn't allow his dirty clothes to infect the permanent lesions, thus she exchanged his military fit with her father's black t-shirt and sweatpants.

She tried the blue sweatpants on him. He was taller and more muscular than her dad, so the sweats were worn like capris. The hem strapped on tightly to the lower end of his calves.

The fit was temporary. Obie had to constantly check his injuries, leaving Logan in his weird banana boxers for the meantime.

His face was the hardest to deal with, though the skin was undamaged. She honestly had a hard time reframing from slapping the shit out of him.

Something about him rubbed Obie the wrong way.

Still, she wiped thoroughly.

Logan's face was the most unspoiled part of him.

Can't say much for his personality.

His eyebrows were damn near perfect and bushed like he went to a salon and ordered the lady to not wax the edges off. The arch hovered above downturned eyes, colored oddly in practically black with a grey cast. His flat, wide nose and thick lips were situated perfectly in position as if this man never got punched a day in his life.

"You're obviously in a bad mood." She pulled a chair up to the bed, turned and straddled the seat.

Dark inflammation swelled under his sharp eyes. He scowled before looking forward.

"I thought you'd be happy to be alive." Obie shrugged, eyeing Burrito as she climbed on top of the bed.

"If that thing touches me..." he croaked.

"Are you really going to threaten my baby? I don't think that's smart."

"I don't think it was smart to adopt a wild animal from the zoo." 

"Don't disrespect B like that." Obie smiled as Burrito got comfortable on the pillow next to Logan. "If anyone got rabies, it's probably you."

"B?"

"Short for Burrito."

He murmured an "okay", proceeding to evade Obie.

As much as she desired to pick on him, Obie couldn't pretend his distresses didn't matter. The recent scars on his body didn't belong to just him.

Obie grew somber. "Thank you."

He stayed silent.

"I really mean it." She said softly. "I know we don't like each other. That's pretty obvious, but you're the first living person I met who actually tried to help me. Whatever your reason behind it was, I want to thank you."

Obie practically sacrificed an arm and a leg to get that out of her lips. Looked like Logan was having a hard time ingesting the gratitude like he could choke any second.

"What happened?" Were his first words.

She vibrated an "um" before advancing. "Not that much."

"It seems a lot." He countered.

The vampire and his blood effects added a whole new level of stress. Yet, Obie was going to savor the truth for herself.

"We're here now. That's all that matters."

"No, it's not." He gazed over Obie's neck, where he last saw the vampire bites. He dawdled over her leg, searching for the gunshot wound.

Obie bit her lip. "Listen...you gave me the jacket and your car keys. I left, but when I was climbing down the fire escape, the sun came out. The infected left. Okay? I had a choice. Leave you or save you. I chose the second option as a repayment. Now we're even."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't make sense?" She was offended that her lie was deemed impractical. "How doesn't it make sense? It makes perfect sense."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does."

"No, it doesn't."

"I'm calling bullshit. You're looking for an issue."

"No, I'm looking at an issue."

"What's the issue?" She compelled.

"You." Abruptly, he challenged. "What happened to your injuries?"

"What happened to yours?"

"They healed."

"Bingo." She rolled her eyes, throwing one leg to the other side and leaned on the chair's back.

"Now, I'm calling bullshit." Logan tried to straighten up, then learned the idea failed where it began. "The holes on your neck are completely closed. I can't see it at all."

Quickly, she said. "That's because you're a little off and running a slight fever. So things aren't looking too clear in your perspective-"

He frowned. "You have got to be fucking kidding-"

"Not to mention, I covered it with my mother's make up. People are trigger happy these days when they might think you're infected."

He scoffed. "What about the gunshot wound?"

"What about it? I'm wearing pants. You can't see it."

"But you've been walking like nothing happened."

She raised her eyebrow. "So how long you really been awake?"

"That's not the point. The point is you seem good."

"Just because I look good, doesn't mean I am good."

"I didn't say you look good. Let's not put words in my mouth." He insulted.

She jerked her head back. "Okaaaay. Ouch."

"It's impossible." He shook his head. "How did you drag me from the market to your house?"

"I technically didn't drag you from the market to my house. I drove you."

"You know exactly what I mean." He raised his voice.

"I told you!" Obie said loudly. "Accept the truth for what it is."

"Or accept a lie."

"Coming from the man whose been in fake sleep for the past four days."

"Past one." Logan corrected.

"Talk about accepting a lie." She said sarcastically.

"Is it always going to be like this?"

"Like what?"

"You acting irrational."

"Not if you leave."

He purposely jingled the handcuffs on his wrists. "I don't think that's my choice."

She shrugged. "Even without those, you wouldn't leave without ransacking my house."

His eyes glinted. "I would have kept it clean."

"You can barely keep yourself clean."

"Touché."

They glared at each other.

"Okay." Obie sat on her "uninjured" leg purposely as he spotted her move. "Let's be honest with each other. Tell me about my dad."

He looked surprise.

"I didn't contact Cian, so I don't know." She answered his thoughts.

"I'm guessing you didn't look in the jacket either."

"There was nothing in it."

"Looks like we are back to square one. I know shit. You don't."

She rolled her eyes. "Why are you so childish? You were willing to give me the information when you were about to die! Hello, remember that?! I saved you!"

"I'm alive now. If I give it to you, I don't have a leverage." He said.

"Sounds like you want to blackmail me."

"I'm not in any position to threaten you, but we can make a deal." He said confidently.

She played along. "Oh, I'd so love to hear it."

"I'll tell you about your father. In exchange, I'm uncuffed and I get to look around your house. Any information I find you can have it too, since that's not classified. Once I'm done, I'll leave when I am confident you're not hiding shit."

"Excuse me? I want to know everything about my dad."

"I said you will."

"I'm not stupid. You used the word 'classified'. That means you're willing to withhold info. I want to know it, classified or not."

"No-"

"There are also documents on my dad. I want them too."

"Fuck...no."

"If it's true, you have no right to them." She argued.

"No one does. Your dad is dead."

"He's infected!" she hollered.

The shout startled him.

"Don't you dare disrespect him in his own home." She breathed out. "Ever."

"I'm not. It's a fact." He said warily. "I saw your dad. It's him. I don't care if you believe it, but your dad was an important man. I'll tell you why. But I can't give you everything we have on him. That's up to The Sanctuary."

"You should have never mentioned that you can't tell me everything. But thanks for being such an honest person." She chortled, astonishing him. "I guess I should be honest with you now."

He was bewildered by her comical tone.

"I appreciate the negotiation. I really do. You got it all figured out. It's quite impressive how everything works out so well for you, but not exactly for me." Her tone was borderline cynical. "Wait a second, not just me. I'm sorry I almost forgot that we're not the only ones in a situation right now. While you might walk out this house satisfied, I can't say the same for the others."

"What are you talking about? What others?"

Obie snagged the radio out of the back of her jeans and waved the flashing communication device in the air as if holding a toy away from a child. A sly smile grew mischievously on her face, but the contradiction of innocence laced her speech. "You didn't forget your friends, did you?"

A/N: Story title changed? How you like it?

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