LETTERS TO HELLSING XXIX

“All right, yes, here.” Zelig said positioning me inside the entrance and waiving the others back a bit. “Now, quiet all of you! Are you ready?” He whispered to me.

“Yes. This is very exciting!” I whispered back.

He smiled and squeezed my hand then reached out to touch something hidden in the wall.

Nothing happened for a moment then, just audible over the sounds of the waterfall, came the soft strains of a harp. I held my breath trying to better hear the quiet melody. As I listened, the song grew louder and more complex as other instruments were woven in. I realized that I was beginning to distinguish shapes in the darkness. A flute joined in the song, trilling like a bird. Slowly, slowly the lights began to come up like the dawning of a new day. Shafts of light came down from the ceiling, sparkling off of the waterfalls and the crystal rock formations creating a dappled carpet on the floor of the cave.

The effect was stunning.

I realized I was still holding my breath. I expelled it the whispered, “Oh Zelig, it’s just lovely.”

I heard several affirmative sounds behind me.

Zelig smiled distantly, his eyes slightly feverish. “Wait,” he breathed “wait.” He reached out again and the “sun” began to set.

The music merged into night sounds and I found myself transported from my dappled little grove to a magical forest. The waterfall no longer flowed merrily but instead seemed to dance. The crystal formations no longer sparkled but burned softly with an inner fire. The pillar “trees” seemed to move and sway on some enchanted breeze. The marble glowed in the diffuse “moonlight” and the pool seemed to reflect starlight from above. It was one of the most magnificent things I had ever seen. It was truly magical.

I could not speak. I could only sigh with pleasure. It was so beautiful.

“Well?” He whispered.

I squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back, my expression conveying my opinion more eloquently than words ever could. He squeezed my hand again and smiled up at me. We stood there for a moment just marveling at his genius.

Eventually, there was a small strangled sound of despair as Stewart spotted the mangled ruins of his stereo on the work bench by the entrance. The spell was broken and everyone crowded around to congratulate Zelig. He gave my hand a final squeeze before we were forcibly separated by the friendly punches and rough back slaps of his comrades.

I wandered over to Stewart who was sifting sadly though the remains of his stereo only slightly mollified by the brownie Zelig had given him in way of apology.

“I don’t suppose you would let me buy you a new one?” I asked.

“Why, you didn’t destroy it?”

“Yes but I gave it to Zelig which, apparently, made its destruction a foregone conclusion.”

“I could have refused. Should have done but, to be honest, I kind of wanted to see what he would do. The man is insane but he is quite talented.”

“I don’t know about ‘insane’.”

“Take my word for it.”

“Come now.”

“Totally off his nut.”

I laughed and looked over at a beaming Zelig who stood accepting his due praise whilst doling out brownies like a benevolent dictator.

“What did Zelig do before he joined the squad?”

“Landscape architect.”

“In Algeria?”

“No, France. His mother was Algerian, his father is French. Zelig worked for his father’s company until artistic differences drove them apart.”

“Artistic differences?”

“Yes, his father felt that customer satisfaction was the cornerstone to good business.”

“And Zelig?”

“Zelig felt that if the customers even considered replanting one of his garden beds it was grounds for blowing up their car.”

“What!”

“Or house.”

“You’re joking of course.”

“I’m afraid I’m not. He’s the terrorist version of Frank Lloyd Wright.”

“But.”

“Corrine, we’re all damaged goods here in the Geese one way or another. We all had our own reasons for joining. Some of us are addicted to the danger, some are running from their past, others are just mean son’s of bitches but some of us,” he sighed and gestured to Zelig “some of us simply can not function in the main stream and have nowhere else to go.”

“Poor Zelig.” I sighed.

Stewart laughed. “I tell you a man is crazy and blows things up and you feel sorry for him?”

“Was anyone hurt in the explosions?”

“Well, no.”

“Then yes.”

“There’s your problem. You like people too much.”

“What’s wrong with liking people?”

“Nothing but liking the wrong people can be dangerous.”

“Like Zelig.”

“No, Zelig’s fine as long as he stays with us. Besides, you liked his work. You could shoot him in the foot now and he would still adore you.”

“Like you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Really?”

“No, but a certain girlfriend could prove to be hazardous.”

“Seras is my friend.” I snapped.

“I know, I like her too but is it truly wise to befriend a vampire?”

“Seras, is, my, friend.” I said angrily. Poking him in the chest to emphasize my point.

“Steady love, were just talkin'.”

A large hand came down on my shoulder. “Excuse me miss, is this man bothering you?” Asked Marks.

“No. He’s warning me off dangerous men.”

“Very wise. Was my name mentioned?”

“You were next on the list.” Quipped Stewart. “Right after…Oh, hello Zelig.”

“Stewart…Marks.” Zelig said nodding regally to them. “Corrine!” He beamed. “There you are.” He dropped his voice to a loud whisper. “I have to ask you something.” He took my hand and attempted to draw me away but Marks’ hand on my shoulder did not budge. He narrowed his eyes at Marks who gave him a slight smile.

Zelig sighed dramatically, leaned in close and whispered, “Do you have any more brownies?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh.” He said disappointed “Are you sure?”

“Afraid so.”

He sighed. “I didn’t get any.”

“But Zelig, I gave you the whole tray.”

“Yes but I was sharing them out with the fellows. Then there was only this nice big corner piece left and then that girl…” He said balefully.

“Her name is Seras.”

“That Seras, snatched it right out of my hand saying they were hers and wouldn’t give it back.”

“Oh Seras.” I sighed glancing over at her. She was sitting on a rock clutching the tray containing the last brownie and glaring defiantly in our direction. Most of the others had left her alone opting instead to go through the bag of snacks in search of easier prey. Except for corp. Sherman who could not seem to resist trying to sneak up behind her and snatch the last brownie. She backhanded him away without even looking. He landed on the ground with a thump laughing uproariously. Seras gripped the try even more tightly and continued to glare in our direction.

Zelig glared back petulantly at her. “Not even one.” He groused.

I sighed again turning to Stewart. “I don’t suppose?”

Zelig looked at him hopefully.

“Sorry no.” He said stuffing the rest of his brownie into his mouth.

Zelig huffed as Stewart waived a piece of broken stereo at him.

“I’m sorry Zelig.” I said. “But I actually did make them for Seras. But I promise to make lots more for you tomorrow night if you’d like for when you show Sir Integra and the rest of the staff your lovely work.”

“And they’d be for me?”

“Yes.”

“Extra walnuts?”

“Sure.”

“I want more of the cream cheese ones like you made last week.” Said Stewart.

“I wanted walnuts.”

“She can make both can’t she?”

The two of them looked at me expectantly.

“All right.”

“How about those blondie things? What were they called Marks?” Asked Zelig.

“Blondies.”

“Yes, some of those too.”

“Wait…”

“Yes some of those!” shouted Seras. “And the fudgie chippy ones as well.” Damn her and her uncanny hearing.

“Now hold on. I can’t…Oh Zelig you’re bleeding!”

Zelig glanced down at his arm. “It’s nothing.” He said.

“But you’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing. Now, about cookies…”

“Honestly it’s like dealing with a bunch of 4 year olds!” I muttered under my breath dragging Zelig over to the workbench where the light was better.

“Welcome to my world.” Said Marks.

“I don’t suppose you installed a first aid kit down here?”

Zelig sniffed disdainfully. “This is art, not some poncy municipal pool facility.”

The former lifeguard in me brindled but I remained calm. I removed the towel from my head and gently dabbed at the wound with a corner. “Hmmm, not too bad.” I said. I looked around. I had almost everything I needed. “I need alcohol, preferably hard liquor.”

“Excellent idea.” Said Marks pulling out a flask. “But perhaps you should wait till you’re finished with Rührkuchen here.”

“Tot umfallen kraut!” Growled Zelig.

“What is this, kindergarten at the Tower of Babel?” I said snatching the flask from Marks. I sniffed it’s contents.

“This will do. OK now Zelig, hold still.”

“Why?” Asked Zelig.

“No, wait!” said Marks.

I grinned evilly and tipped a liberal portion of the flask’s contents onto Zelig’s forearm.

Both men flinched.

“Damn, that burns. What the hell is it?”

“Damned expensive is what it is!” Growled Marks.

“Well, if you had a first aid kit down here,” I said sweetly “I wouldn’t need to use this.”

“You could have let him bleed.”

“I most certainly could not!” I said, gently cleaning the grease and dirt from around the cut with another corner of my towel.

“Anders should be doing this.” Grumped Marks. “It’s what we bloody pay him to do. Where the hell is he anyway?”

Stewart chuckled. “He took off as soon as he heard her singing."

“Well he’s still on call and he can bloody well get back here and slap a plaster on Herr Artist here!”

“That’s OK. I like the way she does it better.” Said Zelig as I fussed with his arm.

“Does it still sting?” I asked.

“A little.”

I blew gently on his arm to cool the burn.

“I think I’m in love.” Said Zelig.

“Damn it Anders, get your ass in here right now!” Shouted Marks.

Stewart laughed. “Corrine, you have to stop.”

“What? My mom used to do that.”

“Mind you own business.” Snapped Zelig. “So did mine.” He said patting my arm.

“I’m almost done.” I said. Reaching for the super glue.

“What’s that for?” Zelig asked suspiciously.

“Hopefully to glue your mouth shut.” Said Marks.

I smiled and shook my head then bent over and glued the wound shut.

“Your mother never did that.” Said Stewart.

“I like it!” Said Zelig poking at his arm.

“Pretty clever.” Said Marks. "Now give me back my flask. And just where the deuce have you been?” he said to Anderson who had come up behind me.

“Did you see what she did Anders?” Said Zelig, grinning and flexing his arm. “She glued me back together she did! You should try it.” He said tossing him the tube.

Anders caught it and stared at Zelig his eyes flashing but his face carefully neutral. “How very useful.” He said without inflection.

“You could have done it yourself if you’d been here instead of skulking about.” Snapped Marks. “She shouldn’t have to do your job.” Anders flinched a little at Marks’ tone but said nothing. He just stared down angrily at the tube in his hand.

I suddenly remembered that Anderson did not like me and this was not helping. “It was just a little cut.” I said quickly. “Mom stuff really. No big deal.”

He weighed the tube in the palm of his hand. “For little cuts yes?” He said quietly in that dead voice.

“Um, yes?”

“Not so good for ripped off limbs then?” He said bitterly, squeezing the tube.

“Well, no.”

“Perhaps I could use it on ghoul bites instead?” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with rage.

I choked and shook my head.

“No? Pity that.” He said, glaring at me.

I stumbled back a bit, shocked by his hostility. He seemed so full of anger and pain that I was not sure how to react. Resentment, compassion and a little bit of fear warred inside of me, my usual instinct to apologize and placate stumbling against the fact that, to the best of my knowledge, I had done absolutely nothing wrong. “I…I didn’t….” I took a deep breath and clutched my fisted hands against my stomach to hide their trembling. Don’t you dare cry Corrine! I thought and looked him in the eye. “Why?” I asked.

“What the hell are you playing at Anders?!” Said Zelig, stepping between us and bowing his chest. Stewart looked more puzzled than angry.

Anders dropped his head staring down at his hands, his jaw clenching and unclenching his lips quirking. He looked up at me his eyes full of pain and confusion. His lips moved but no words came out.

“That’s enough.” Said Marks quietly but firmly. “Anders, go see the captain about pulling a first aid kit from stores for down here.”

Anders’ face went blank. He turned mechanically and left without a sound.

“Zelig, you and Stewart clean up that mess on the work bench.”

“But.” Said Stewart.

“Now.” Said Marks.

Stewart shrugged and went to help Zelig.

“You," He said chucking me under the chin, “go brush your hair.’

I absently ran a hand through the tangled mass but said nothing. Marks turned his gaze to follow my confused one over to Anders. He shook his head. “He needs to figure out how to deal with this before it’s too late.”

I looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I seem to upset him greatly.” I said miserably.

Marks smiled sadly. “It’s not just you. It’s this place.” He said. “It’s like a hell for him. It’s driving him mad but he won’t leave. He won’t leave the men without a medic and who in his right mind would take the job?”

I looked back at Anders. Slow, horrifying comprehension dawning on me.

Hard enough to be a combat medic but to be a medic for a combat team which battled the undead? To have to watch your team get blown apart and ripped open. To have to decide at a moments notice whether to tend a wound or to administer the only mercy available to a friend or civilian with a ghoul bite, a bullet in the head. And if you make a mistake, you might be murdering an innocent or worse yet, spare them only to watch them rise up to kill and eat your men.

My mind wandered back to the theater. To the way he had looked at me. The way his hand kept moving to his holster. He had decided to shoot me but Alucard had not allowed it. I shivered with terror. He would have killed me, shot me in the head then and there but instead, here I was, standing in front to him alive and healthy and a constant reminder of all of those deaths and of how far from being a healer he had strayed.

“He knows that we don’t resent it.” Said Marks. “That any of us would rather take a bullet in the head than turn but knowing that is still a cold comfort when you’re the one who has to pull the trigger.”

“Oh, poor Anders.” I whispered. “How can he bear it?”

“He bears it because he has to. We all do.” He turned back to me. “Now don’t cry on me liebste.” He said, noticing my tears. “A river of tears couldn’t save the damned souls in this room.”

“I’m not crying, I’m leaking.” I said blotting my eyes on my sleeve. “I do that sometimes. Ask the captain.”

“Hmm.” He said handing me a tissue. “As you say. Now go see to that pet demon of yours before she breaks one of my men.”

I squeezed his arm and smiled at him. “Thank you, you’re very kind.”

“Slander and lies girl! I like you better when you are being mean. Now go away before you destroy my reputation.”

“Sir! Yes sir!” I barked throwing him a mock salute then scurrying away quickly before he could swat me.