HALO

Terror:

The emotion is inexplicable, in so many ways. From my personal experience, to be truly terrified, is to be possessed by a force, which snatches away your God-given ability to breathe. For me, right now, the intense sensation has triggered a fatal tightening within my chest. More so than the slabs of concrete I am lodged beneath.

'Death is better than living in crippling fear.' Once, a kidnap-victim said those words to me. But I refused to accept such a defeatist belief.

Now, though, as I lay on my back in a tomb of rubble, with my legs numb, my arms twisted, my face warm and sticky with blood… now, I am not so sure. Now I find myself more inclined to welcome the relief.

Still, despite the shocking pain rippling through my body, and the hopeless thoughts rampaging through my brain, I scream for help, again and again. But no one hears me. I have been trapped in here for an eternity, and still no one hears me… and I hear no one. The brick and stone walls offer nothing but cold silence.

Is anyone out there, searching for me? Or is my death in here a certainty? Andre, my baby, may never again lay his eyes on me.

Not once did it occur to me my life would end this way. How could I? I'm not a soldier. I don't live in a war torn country. I have no enemies… Wait, scratch that last part. 'Michonne, you're the Assistant DA of Atlanta, Georgia. Of course you have enemies.'

Yes, but are any of them capable of such an atrocity? To set off an explosion in the middle of a school, at the beginning of the day? Was the attack even related to me? The tragedy seemed to be too much of a coincidence.

"Help," I cry out once more, my blistered lips salty with tears. Every breath is labored, and my eyes struggle to stay open. I'm trying to hold on. But in due course, my mind drifts its way out of consciousness.

"Hello… Is anybody here?"

From a distance, a weary male voice jolts me back into awareness. As my eyes blink open, they burn from the dust.

"Hello? It's Fire Rescue Services. Call out." His crunching steps draw closer.

At first, I don't respond, unsure if my desperation is manifesting itself in the form of a hallucination.

"If anyone's here, if you can, please call out."

"I'm here." My voice comes out so hoarse and in a whisper, the ragged sound surprises me. I swallow hard to wet my dry throat. I draw in a deep, painful breath before trying again and I yell, "I'm here!"

Out of the darkness a light shines, cutting through the debris and dusty air. "I'm here!" I shout again, louder.

"Hold on. I'm coming alright." I hear the man speak into a walkie-talkie "Lieutenant to Team One. Hey guys, we've got another survivor down here. Let's hurry things up, shall we?" He crawls in between the rubble, and soon a fireman emerges before me. Through squinting eyes, I inspect him in disbelief. 'Thank you, thank you, thank you God.'

He removes his helmet and shuffles his body next to mine with the warmest smile. "Hey. You okay?"

"Please, help me," I whimper. "Please get me out."

"Ssh it's alright, it's alright…" His gaze assesses my situation, but his hands don't dare go into action. "… We're here to do just that. Just look at me now, okay? I'm Lieutenant Grimes, and right now, there's a dozen officers making their way through. I know you've been here long, it's been eleven hours, but all you have to do, is hold on…" He scans the steel beam rendering me motionless. "… just a little bit longer. You think you can do that?"

The reassurance in his voice soothes me, I can't help myself and I begin to sob. "Yeah, I can."

"Good," He shifts closer, inches away from my face, and narrows his eyes at me. "Hey, you wanna tell me your name?"

"Michonne," I reply in between my sniffling.

He tilts his head and grins, "As in Michonne Anthony?"

I nod.

"Thought you looked familiar. Seen you on TV… You've been handling that domestic case."

I smile back at the boyish enthusiasm on his face. "Yeah… that's me."

"Alright Mrs. Anthony. Now this is what I'm gonna do, okay? I'm just gonna take a peek at this gash right here…" Removing his gloves from his hands, he reaches out and brushes the side of my cheek, "… good, it don't look so deep. But I see what's going on down there with your legs. Can you tell me if you feel anything else is broken?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't think so."

"What about your arms? Can you feel that?"

"Yeah, but I can't, I can't move them." I try to budge a little as proof. Both limbs are pinned between my body and stone. "What happened here?" The question has been hounding my mind ever since the walls burst inwards slamming me down onto the floor.

The fire officer goes silent for a beat. His expression stiffens and his attention falls away from my face. "Car bomb…" His voice is edgy with disgust, "...two of them, on both sides of the campus."

I squeeze my eyes shut in horror. 'Two?'

"Who? Why?"

"We don't know as yet. Too much chaos is happening right now. But don't, don't worry about that alright. Just focus on making it out of here alive. No more dozing off."

I look back at him, feeling more than at ease. "No more dozing off," I repeat in a whisper. Less than two minutes in his presence and suddenly I can breathe again. I feel safe. I'm going to make it out of my tomb. I'm going to be okay. So calm and collected, so professional, I wonder how long he's been with the squad. I've had the unfortunate experience of working with decades-old officers, who, at the drop of a hat, just lose their shit when all hell breaks loose.

He inches back a bit, and places the flashlight in a standing position between us. He raises himself into a crouching position, his hands clasp in front of him, and a distant look glazes over his eyes.

I find myself staring, needing to know what's on his mind. "What's wrong?"

"Have to say, Mrs. Anthony… you're an impressive woman. Both here, and in court. They umm, they've been hard on you. It's an old boys club – Georgia's legal system."

His response catches me off-guard. Is he attempting to distract me? "Try the whole world Lieutenant."

He nods with a ghost of a smile but his gaze remains pensive. "But you've been strong, like you are right now. No matter what they come at you with, you've been standing your ground. Your job, you're good at it. This councilman, he needs to be brought to justice, and you're the one who can. That's why they've been attacking you. They're afraid of you."

I understand his intentions but I have no interest in talking about work right now. Or the hell my family and I have been put through.

He scratches his brow with his thumb when I go silent. "Your husband, he must be proud of you? He's always there supporting you."

No, that's for show. Mike thinks I'm too focused on making a name for myself. "Lieutenant Grimes," I sigh, "How much longer… till your team gets here?"

"Not much longer…but they're coming."

I believe him, though only undisturbed quietness surrounds us.

"You have a child, right Mrs. Anthony? Think I read that in the paper at some time."

He's relentless, I give him that. "Just Michonne," I correct him. "And yeah I do… A three-year old boy… His name is Andre."

"And he's umm, he's amazing I'm sure."

"He's perfect."

Defeated, he shakes his head and chuckles. "Never figured you'd be so bashful for such a big shot lawyer."

"Yeah well…"

"No I get it." Leaning forward, he anchors his rueful blue eyes to the slab on top of me, and sweeps his hand across it. "Look, this cement block here, that's pressing in on you, I can't move it by myself. I wish that I could. But, my guys… they, are, coming for you. I guarantee it. I don't want you to give up, okay? I'm trying to –"

"I know what it is you're trying to do."

"Well then, how about you meet me half way, alright? Don't make it hard for me Mrs. Anthony."

I suck in my lips and nod in compliance.

"Good. So talk to me." He sits folding his legs beneath him. "Tell me why you're here today."

"Came to give a lecture to the Criminal Justice department. Originally scheduled for last week, but got postponed for this morning."

"And now you're stuck here, I'm sorry about that."

"Why should you be? It's not your fault." I shake my head recalling those last moments I spent walking down the hallway memorizing my notes. My thoughts were unfocused; Mike's hurtful words were cycling through my head.

'You don't love me. I don't love you. We need to get a divorce.'

I kept wondering why he chose this particular morning to ambush me like that.

"Michonne?"

"Mmm…" I realize I've gone quiet again, and I bring my eyes to meet his.

"Hey what are you thinking about?"

'Me?' I respond in my head. 'I'm thinking about how everything in my life has literally imploded in less than a day. Thinking about how many of the one hundred and twenty students and faculty, who were waiting for me, lost their lives because I couldn't keep a damn appointment. I'm thinking about… "Desire," I whisper. "I'm thinking about desire, and what it means to me."

"And what is it to you? It's subjective isn't it?"

"To long for something or for someone…"

"A longing from deep within? From the pit of your stomach?"

"No. Deeper. From your kidneys Lieutenant. It then spreads everywhere like a virus. I, desire, to live… To survive… To see my baby's face again, and to hold him and kiss him till he turns red with giggles."

"You will," he nods at me, "I'm here to make sure of that."

"Cocky aren't you?" I tease. "You have no idea… the extent of my injuries."

"You're right I don't. But I just believe okay?"

"Faith?"

"Yeah. Faith. I have faith, in you. Been down here this long. You're special and strong. You're gonna live... What about your husband?"

I furrow my brows. "What about him?"

"You don't desire to see him again?"

I shake my head. I used to desire him, but… "Disappointment squashed those flames for me." I'm stunned as I let my thoughts escape past my lips.

But Rick doesn't react to my private confession. "I'm sure he's scared for you. From his interviews, he seems to be a man who's good and who's kind."

"He is." Mike's on the board of half a dozen charities, and attends endless fundraisers every year. "But he's also a jackass, just like the rest of them."

He laughs. "Present company excluded I hope."

"Hope so too. But I don't know you. I'm not your wife. Who you are behind closed doors, out of the expectant eyes of your colleagues and your friends. Who's to say Lieutenant? We all hide who we really are, don't we?"

He pouted his mouth and shook his head in mild protest. "I'd like to think that I'm different. Besides, women aren't saintly daisies either."

"No, we're not. But you can't get enough of us, can you?"

He laughs again, a deep, husky sound filled with sincere delight and I find myself grinning with him. "That's desire," he says. "For a man it surpasses all reasoning."

"It applies to all of us doesn't it? Our craving is just different."

"For women? It's deeper, from the kidneys like you said."

"And it's connected… to our hearts, to our minds. Although… the twenty-five year olds who intern with the office would highly disagree."

He quirks his eyebrow at me. "Some thirty-five year olds too."

I chuckle so hard and I begin to choke. 'Not cute Michonne.' Wait, what?

"I'm sorry, don't do that please. You okay?" he asks, stroking the top of my head, as I clear my throat.

"I'm okay," I lie. He knows cause he's staring into my water filled eyes, but nods anyway taking my word for the truth.

"We should stop," he offers quietly.

"You said they were coming. Is that for real?"

"It is. They need to make a clear deep path, but one wrong move and, it'll all come down. All this debris," Tilting his head back, his gaze moves skyward. "…would collapse on top of us. They got a rescue dog, name's Titus. Now I'll admit, he, he doesn't see too well, won't lie to you about that."

I can't help but giggle. Thought he said we should stop?

"But his nose…" He taps the side of his nostril, "…is the sharpest in the program."

"Titus huh? That's a hell of a name."

"He lives up to it you can trust me on that."

"I do. I trust you Rick." I admit.

For a while, neither one of us says anything now.

Strange enough I start to miss his sound so I'm the one who chooses to speak. "My umm, my husband… He couldn't live up to his name." The Anthony's have been a prominent family in Georgia for the past three generations. It was disappointing, the discovery of not having an equal. "Realized too late that I married someone needing to be pushed to do what was necessary for our family's happiness. He called me a nag, an irritating bitch, amongst other things, so I learned to keep my mouth shut, to swallow my sadness, and to push myself forward."

He rubbed my shoulders consolingly. "That's understandable. Better to avoid the arguing. Those angry words come out sharper than any knife. You wanted to have peace."

"I did. But I chose him, Rick, so, the joke is on me. Still, I never allowed myself to deteriorate because of it. I do what I have to do. I cook, I clean, I help pay the bills. I raise his child. I wear the right clothes, I say the right things…"

"The perfect wife."

"But not perfect enough. Maybe I desired too much. Maybe I expected too much in return."

"What did you expect?"

"For him to be my partner. But he wasn't, and he just couldn't… in too many ways." Discouraged from confiding in him, I discovered I have a husband to whom I couldn't turn to for contentment. "Still… he took… care of me, the best way he knew how… And I am grateful for that."

"How?"

"By feeding me... Just, like… his… mother…" Exhaustion, in an instant, washes over me, and I am signing off.

"Hey stay with me now." He grasps my chin and shakes me. "Come on. Michonne, stay with me. Aww hell! My guys, they're the best. They're working like crazy to get you out."

Battling to stay awake, I hear him shuffling around.

"Tell me, what's your boy's name again? Michonne!"

"Andre," I moan.

"Yeah Andre. I'm sure he's beautiful and smart, just like his mama."

My eyes flutter open, brimming with tears. Rick is crouching behind my head now, hovering directly over me.

"There you are," Relief flashes in his eyes. "Definitely beautiful," he whispers. "Please, stay with me alright? The thing is Michonne, I share that same desire as you. I desire for you to live," he says. "To see Andre again. Watch him grow up and become a man. It's why I'm here."

"It's your job."

"True, but I need you to make it. To hold on. The truth about desire is, once it goes unfulfilled, it can leave you devastated. So don't devastate me. Don't give up."

"Tired."

"I know."

My clothes, they're soaking, I am bleeding out somewhere. "Think I might die down here." Tears start slipping down my face.

"No I don't accept that. And neither should you."

He rests a warm hand on my cheek. Closing my eyes I lean into his palm starved for comfort.

"Hey, hey Michonne, look at me."

I am weak, and in wretched agony, but I obey.

His unguarded eyes pin me, "You're gonna make it." No longer calm, his tone is pleading and the expression on his face is so flush with emotion. "You can survive this."

"You don't know me."

His gaze falls away. "It's true. Maybe you just remind me of someone—"

He stops suddenly.

"Ssh…" Lifting his head his neck whips to the left, and then to the right. "Ssh… Listen."

Through the rubble I detect sounds. Muffled sounds. Sirens and voices.

Rick squeezes my shoulders. "Call out Michonne."

Again, without question, I do as I'm told. "I'm here."

The voices get louder but still fainted.

Moving his hands, Rick now cradles my face. "Again."

I draw in a deep breath… "I'm here."

"Good. One more time. Louder."

"I'm, here!" I scream so hard daggers shoot up my neck. My muscles strain, I begin to tremble, and I, I black out.

But not before I hear…

"Fire Rescue Services. We hear you. We're coming to get you out."

~0~0~0~0~

Blaring noise, blinding lights, and a distinct coolness caressing my face yanks me back to the world. I am outside, a brace is wrapped around my neck, and I'm being lifted and carried away. Weary faces with determined voices surround me. I scan each one for the man I recognize. "Lieutenant Grimes? Stay with me." I manage to moan.

"Ma'am please, don't try to speak," someone random says. "We got you. Let us take care of you. You're gonna be okay."

Everything hurts. Every inch of my body feels broken. Mind numbing pain pulsates through me with every breath.

Still… I don't listen. "Please Sir, let him come with me. Please?" My voice is so raspy, my throat is filled with dust and gravel and I strangle on every word but still… "I want… Lieutenant… Grimes."

A strapping man looks at me as confused as I feel right then. "No Ma'am. I'm Lieutenant Douglas, but if you want I could ask around and have him come see you at Mercy hospital."

'Ask around?'

"Hey Espinosa, we got the Assistant DA out."

"Ease her over here guys." A woman responds, as I am transferred onto another gurney.

Lieutenant Douglas leans over me. "You need to relax. Let the medics take care of you. Rosita here is the best." He then turns to the medic. "Hey tell Aaron to step on it okay. She's busted up pretty badly. Probably bleeding into the brain."

Lieutenant Douglas watches as my legs are inspected and splinted by both medics in a flash before being placed in the back of an ambulance.

Ms. Espinosa positions a stethoscope against my chest.

"Lt. Grimes."

She lowers her head to my mumbling lips. "Excuse me?"

"Lt. Grimes."

"Umm, hey T-Dog," she hollers, "You got a Grimes on your squad now?"

He shoots her a worried look. "I, I don't know who that is. Maybe from engine 142, but they're on the other side."

Wait what did he mean on the other side? He was with me. Rick was sitting right behind me. O God, they didn't leave him down there, did they?

The woman examines my eyes with her light. "Ma'am stay calm. You're gonna be alright. The Docs at Mercy will have you fixed up in no time. Just do me a favor, and stay, calm."

I don't realize what's happening till she lightly rests her palm on my heaving chest.

"We're gonna help you to breathe."

In the next second, the bus's double doors are shut, and the ambulance is whisking me away.

Even with a mask on my face now, I am struggling to stay awake, to stay lucid. I feel as though I'm being sucked down inside a black and cold tunnel, back into the terrifying darkness, and I cannot help but hope, maybe Rick is there –

"She's crashing!" A voice shouts in the distance. "Aaron step on it! Forget Mercy Hospital. Call Piedmont tell 'em we're coming. Ma'am hold on, don't let go… Shit she's not responding."

I want to see my son. I want to fight… but my strength fails me.

~0~0~0~0~0~

On a wave of dizziness I make my way back to consciousness. It takes me a few seconds to figure out where the hell I am. The smell of latex and bleach infiltrate my senses, and a pretty young blonde, in ugly green scrubs, with a clipboard in her hand is standing near me.

"Mrs. Anthony, it's so good that you're back with us. How do you feel?"

"L-like hell," I croak, as I raise my hand to my now bandaged head. Through my grogginess I observe my legs are both in casts and propped up, and one of my arms is in a sling.

"That's completely understandable," she says, while checking my pulse, "It was touch and go for the past twenty-four hours."

"Where am I?"

"You're at Piedmont Hospital, Ma'am. I'm Nurse Greene. But, Beth is fine. Do you remember anything that happened? Do you know why you're here Ma'am?"

I pause for a few seconds piecing together my memories. "Explosion at the University," I breathed, watching her adjust my IV.

"That's good. Well your surgery went extraordinarily well, as to be expected, seeing as how our head of surgery is the very best in the state. He actually cleared his board to attend to you. Our County's ADA deserves the best."

"Well I'd like… to thank him... sometime today."

"Of course."

"My husband?"

"Mr. Anthony is already waiting in the lobby. But I wanted to make sure you were up for that." The nurse gives me a knowing look, abreast with political gossip I'm sure.

She peeks out the door window. "Oh there he is right now."

"Mike?"

"And your life saver, Doctor Grimes."

The utterance of that name causes my eyes to snap to hers. "Wait, who?"

Despite my paralyzing pain I force myself to catch a glimpse of the individual on the other side of the door, but his back faces me. He shifts to the side slightly and he seems familiar but…

'No. That's insane.'

…I dispel that thought immediately.

"If you want you could rest some more after the doctor sees you. Just give me a second, you're probably thirsty, let me get you some ice chips and I'll be back."

As soon as the door closes, I shut my eyes again, trying to recall precisely everything that's led me here, trying to decipher which parts of my experience I should and shouldn't believe.

However, a strange sensation grips me. I am not alone. Another presence is still in the room.

"Hey, you okay?"

My eyes jolt open, and I glance to my right. Still donning his dusty uniform, is the elusive Lieutenant Grimes at my bedside. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. I want to, to scream, to cry, to yell…

'You left me. Where did you go? How are you even here right now? How the hell did you get in?'

…but I'm too stunned and my voice gets stuck in my parched throat.

My monitor instead, does the talking for me, it starts beeping like crazy.

Reaching over, he switches off the machine, then his hand nears to my face to touch me. But I sink down into my bed because this is not real. People don't simply appear out of thin air. Exhausted, I must have fallen back to sleep, or, maybe I never even woke up. Either way, I do not trust what I am seeing.

"Told you my guys, they were gonna get you out, didn't I?"

Squeezing my eyes shut again, I try to will the "vision" away.

"My name is Michonne Duvant-Anthony," I mutter to myself. "I was born on June 14th. In the tenth grade I fell off my horse —"

"And you got a scar on your shoulder," he finishes for me.

'What the bloody hell!'

I lift my gaze to his and I am met with that cocky grin.

"You son of a… How do you know that? Who are you?"

"Who am I?"

"Yes. Are you real?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think, Lieutenant. Were you even down there? And if you were, tell me, why did you leave me? Why didn't you stay?"

"My part was to keep you alive."

"Your part?" Does he really expect me to believe this? "You're not making any sense."

"Listen, I don't have much time, and I can't explain everything to you. Sorry bout that, I truly am. But here's the deal alright. Stay calm and pay attention."

Just like before, I follow his orders and I go silent.

With his brows raised , his eyes are imploring with me. "I was instructed to appear to you with a face that you'd know."

'Instructed to appear? Great, more bullshit. Nurse Greene must've given me something. '

"But I don't know you… him."

"Actually, you just don't remember, but yeah, you two met once before, because your husband knows him quite well… And eventually so will you."

I press my fingers to my temple to ease the throbbing pain..

"That man out there, Dr. Grimes? He's important to a lot of people. And soon, even more so. You see, they're gonna need him to put up a fight for their survival. But first, he needs something. Someone…"

Raising my palm, I know I've heard enough. "Stop this please."

There's a knock at the door, I glance across the room and I glance back, only to find my visitor is gone. I make a quick search of the entire room and nothing.

'This is outrageous.'

If they haven't done one as yet, a CT-scan is imperative.

Nurse Greene re-enters, this time with the savior surgeon. My eyes widen and I am staring in complete disbelief. I am lost in some dream world. Nothing at all is making any sense. How is any of this possible? People like me don't believe in –

'But it's the same face, Michonne.'

"Sir, you're right on time," Beth says. "Our patient is up and is eager to meet you."

He smiles. "She is?"

It's the same heartwarming smile.

He stands over me and offers his hand. I don't take it. I don't breathe.

"I'm extremely happy to see that Mrs. Anthony. Hi, I'm Doctor Richard Grimes. But you can call me—"

"Rick?"

A/N: I sincerely hope I have not offended anyone with this short-story. If I did, I humbly apologize.