| |
––––––––
“I’ll take this side.” Trinity headed in the opposite direction from Dr. Kalper, this time keeping her eyes on the dead. It was the only way to ensure none still lived.
They were all young. All females. All Servants. Blue and green eyes once vibrant, now stared glassily back at her. She didn’t need to bend and check them. They were all dead. All torn apart, innards spilled. She moved down the rows, counting to give her mind something to focus on besides the horror. One. Two. Five. Ten. Twenty.
The rows of bodies seemed never ending. The numbers became names for the dead. Number eighteen had black hair and blue eyes. If it weren’t for the fangs, peeking from the grimace that froze her lips, she could’ve passed for an Almighty. Number twenty-three’s eyes were a pale green like spring grass. Yet she’d never see another spring.
Trinity stopped counting at forty-two. She didn’t want to know any more of them. She trudged along, no longer trying to miss the entrails. It was impossible anyway. It took too long to try and find a tiny toehold to stand, and she had to get done. She had to get out of there before she raced from the room screaming.
Doctor Kalper leaned against the wall ahead of her, exhaustion taking over his aged features.
“Who would do this?” She stopped at the end of her aisle. “It makes no sense. Why didn’t they harvest the...meat?”
He sighed. It was a weary sound as if his body couldn’t handle any more grief and had to expel some before it burst into sadness. “There’s a lot you still don’t know about this world.”
“Tell me.” She’d do something about this. She was no longer a helpless fugitive. Now, she had power.
“Let’s go.” The doctor rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll tell you everything I know on the way back.”
“We can’t leave them here.” Like garbage. Unwanted. Unloved. Unavenged. “We need to bury them and notify their families if possible.”
“You can send someone to gather the remains when we get back.” He made his way along the wall. It was the clearest path to the door. “I doubt you’ll find their families though. Guards and Servants are usually taken from their parents a little after birth.”
“We can try.” She’d forgotten how the other classes had lived. Producers grew up with their parents. Of course, they were then slaughtered and eaten, but her youth had been pleasant compared to that of Servants and Guards.
When they stepped out of the building, they both inhaled deeply. The stench, once so potent to them out here, was like the purest air after being inside.
Ott snorted, his large feet almost dancing when he saw them. He waved his arm, motioning for them to hurry. Trinity took in the crowd as they walked toward the carriage. More Servants had gathered, but none had approached the building.
“Did you find her?” Callie stood next to Ott, her legs twitching like she was ready to run. “Is she alive?”
The doctor shook his head, opening the carriage door. “She didn’t make it, but thanks to you, she wasn’t alone when she passed.” He motioned for the young Servant to get into the carriage.
“She’s dead? They’re all dead?” Callie’s voice took on that shrill tea kettle sound again. “What if someone saw me? What if they—”
“You can stay with me.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll be safe at my place. You know that.”
Callie nodded and almost flew into the carriage, squeezing herself into the corner. “It would’ve been me. If I hadn’t stayed out last ni—”
“But you did and you’re safe.” Dr. Kalper climbed inside, patting the young Servant’s arm.
Trinity hopped in after him, wiping her bloody hands on her pants as she sat next to Callie. “You said you’d tell me everything.”
“And I shall. As horrible as it is.” His eyes locked with hers—a lifetime of sadness in his blue gaze. “There are some in our culture who believe that specific organs from certain classes contain magical properties.”
“Magical? There’s no such thing as magic.” The hair on her arms stood as an image of the Forest Witch flashed through her mind.
“Perhaps more medicinal than magical but those beliefs hold no basis in science.”
“What did they take?” That explained the trail of guts spilling across the floor. Apparently, intestines weren’t magical, but they were delicious, according to Mirra. She couldn’t stop the shiver that danced down her spine.
“Different organs were missing from different Servants. Some seemed to be missing quite a few.” He looked out the window. “I didn’t examine them all. I should’ve, but I couldn’t. Not again.”
“You’ve seen this before.” She fought the bile that threatened to rise up her throat.
He nodded. “Once or twice over the years, but not like this.” He ran his hand over his face again as weariness settled over him. “Never this many. I believe it happens more often than I’ve seen, but the bodies aren’t usually found.”
“Why would someone leave so many of them like this? It’s sure to cause an investigation.”
“Our world has changed.” His gaze met hers. “It’s already impossible to buy Servants and Guards from the shelters. As soon as Hugh’s programs to help the other classes start expanding, it’ll be even more difficult to purchase and harvest the organs.”
“They’re stocking up.” A cold sweat broke out across her skin.