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Tiger
Awareness hits me the second I am conscious again. I open my eyes slowly, giving them time to adjust to the light inside the room. The pounding in my head makes it difficult to focus on anything in particular. I think at least three—I move and pain explodes in my chest—maybe four, of my ribs are broken. The sole of my foot is swollen. My skin burns from all the whipping, but I am healing as I lie here, contemplating what fate awaits me next.
I am not afraid, but not looking forward to another encounter with the guards. From this moment forth I must practice patience and be cautious. Corporal punishment can, and has, debilitated me. I both need and depend on my strength, stamina, and stealth to get me through this night.
The aroma of chemical cleansers and leather help me identify my surroundings. I am in a restraining room, secured to a gurney I am all too familiar with. It is one of many I have been on, countless times before. The straps around my wrists and ankles, which tie me to the bed, are tight and barely allow for my circulation to flow naturally.
“Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.” Gerard’s voice interrupts my thoughts. I grow stiff. “Why must we go through this every week?”
I glance to my left and find him sitting on a metal chair, glowering. He is disappointed. I am not what he thought I would be. Nor am I what he was hoping for when he created me. “What are you trying to prove?” He leans against the chair and folds one leg over the other. “Dan has a bump the size of a baseball at the back of his head and Rupert’s jaw is broken. What do you have to say?”
I’m confused. Gerard is calm. He does not yell or threatens to kill me. After what I pulled, I expected him to be livid, but he is collected.
“I...have...nothing to say,” I respond wearily.
Gerard bolts out of the chair so quickly it topples over and slams against the floor. The noise forces me to involuntarily flinch.
“If you weren’t so valuable to me I’d find a way to kill you myself!” he rants, easing away my fears. This aggressiveness directed at me is much more comfortable. It is what I’m accustomed to.
“You have become quite obstinate. Your defiance costs me a ton of money. Valuable asset or not, this is a huge problem for me.”
His brown eyes gleam with malicious intent. He means to punish me. I swallow hard. My nervousness increases as I wait for the inevitable.
“Whenever you rebel, I have to fix it. I’m tired of paying for your mistakes. Dan and Rupert require medical attention and that—” Gerard walks over to me and shakes the gurney forcefully, “—drug addict’s body has to be disposed of now.”
I tense. The girl’s dead? Did he have her killed? I squeeze my eyes shut and try not let the anger boiling up inside of me show.
“Oh, I know what you’re thinking.” Gerard shoves the gurney forward, forcing it to bounce against the wall to my right. A sharp pain discharges from my torso and spreads up to my neck the second it makes contact with the wall. I hold my breath and hide my discomfort from him.
“If you had taken her life as you were supposed to, this would have—”
My eyes pop open and I glare at him. Gerard recoils. Blaming me for the girl’s death is going too far. Sooner or later, she would have perished at the hands of one of his men. His biggest disappointment is that I was not the one who ended her life.
“Why...kill...her?” I ask. Curiosity gets the better of me. Killing the latest victim this early isn’t his norm. Usually, they are kept to act as a blank vessel to try new experiments on, or are sent away to another location for preservation.
Gerard leans in, bringing his face only inches from mine. “Because you expected me to forgive her life like I did with the others, but will not give you the satisfaction this time.” It dawns on me. He killed her to spite me.
I explode, growling and fighting my bonds with such force the gurney shakes violently from side to side. All physical discomfort goes ignored as I lash out, lifting my head to snap at Gerard with my canines. He jumps out of the way, watching me with a sickening mixture of panic and approval.
I want nothing more than to wring Gerard’s neck. To do to him what his men do to me, but I cannot break loose from the ties keeping me secured. I’m much too weak and tired. The pounding in my head and the soreness in my ribs only worsen my state. By putting up a fight I’m only harming myself so I dig my claws into the gurney’s metal railing. It does little to stop my anger but it focuses my attention elsewhere.
“If only you were as determined to follow rules, we wouldn’t be in this same exact position every week,” he says.
He wants me to be the perfect predator to serve his purposes in any way or form he desires. But to feed I need to kill so I choose to do neither.
“Tiger.” Gerard runs one hand over his short hair several times, his frustration visible with each stroke. “Just look at you! You’re weak. You’re but a shell of what you can be. If I possessed the power you have—the power I have given you...” he pauses. His unusually pale face has grown flustered. He’s reached his breaking point. “You are an ingrate, Tiger.”
I look away, directing my gaze to the plain white ceiling above me. I’ve heard this speech before, but it seems tonight Gerard is more determined to say his fill.
“For more years than you can count, I have dedicated my life to my research, to my experiments, and now that I’m so close to finding the answer I seek you will not ruin things for me,” he warns. “You are the closest I have come to my goal, and you will help give me the answers I need.”
I refrain from answering. Gerard is giving me an ultimatum I do not plan to take. Putting my answer into words will only cause more trouble for me.
“Nothing I have done to entice a good response from you has worked. So I believe the best way to make you cooperate is by having you join that white devil friend of yours in a cell downstairs.”
My eyes grow wide. I would rather be beaten than endure a night, or two, in a cell.
“By your reaction, I assume I’ve caught your full attention.” Gerard walks to the glass door at the end of the room, and presses the intercom button on the wall next to it. “Samuel, Charlie, I need you in here ASAP.” He releases the button and moves aside to look at me.
Dread washes over me. Requesting Samuel’s and Charlie’s presence makes it official. As punishment I am to endure a tumultuous night locked up in a small cubicle, forced to watch as I am drained, around the clock, to keep me on the verge of madness.
“Don’t fret too much, Tiger. Your albino friend will keep you company,” Gerard mocks me.
My maker enjoys the terror he has purposefully planted in my heart. It takes all I have not to scream at the top of my lungs, or beg to be forgiven in order to avoid castigation. If not for the mission I have committed to, I’d try to find a way around being put in the tiny room. But I need him to believe nothing is amiss. Allowing Gerard to think my compliance is due exclusively to fear is preferable.
I have to be led out of the room in order for the next step to take place. I observe him in silence. He stands near the exit so I have to strain my neck in order to look at him. I wonder if he has other plans for me, but I have no way of knowing beforehand. I cannot read his mind, though I wish it was a possibility right now.
Soon Samuel and Charlie will rush into the room to take me away. I can hear their footsteps down the hall, getting closer and closer. The pulsing vein on the side of my neck betrays the panic threatening to consume me.
“Because I’m a generous man, I will give you one last chance.” Gerard’s mouth creeps into a forced, unfriendly smile. “Will you finally bring us both out of our misery and take a life the way you were meant to? Or continue holding on to the belief you are above killing now?”
I inhale quickly, and exhale hastily, regretting it instantly. My broken ribs brush against each other, sending a fresh surge of agony across my torso. I’m much too sore yet, but beginning to heal—if only at a leisurely pace.
“What will it be, Tiger?” Gerard waits in silent anticipation for my response.
I weigh my options. A night, maybe two, in the cell? I am not looking forward to spending a lonely night in such a confined space. Last time, I was nearly driven into a blinding rage, which almost resulted in the death of yet another innocent brought in as a form of nourishment for me. How I found the power to refuse is a mystery to me, but I am not looking to repeat the events again.
Starving by refusing to feed is one thing. Being drained while half-starved is another form of hell. I close my eyes. Feeding requires a life to be taken. I promised myself—after that incident—I would not kill again. I can’t break that promise.
I hear Castiel’s voice in my head.
Tiger, the time has come. It must be today or you will miss the opportunity to be free.
I am prepared for what I have to do.
“I will not feed.”
It is silent inside the room save for the thump, thump, thump of Gerard’s beating heart. The explosion I’m expecting does not come. My experience tells me his silence is far worse than his hot temper. I open my eyes and glance to my left. Gerard remains still, a few feet away. His expression is one of contempt.
“Have it your way, Tiger.” His face reveals the depth of his displeasure.
Gerard marches to the door, whereupon reaching the intercom, he opens the panel underneath and presses the numbered, round buttons one by one until he gets through the security code. Once confirmed, a familiar beeping announces the door’s about to open.
Stepping aside, Gerard waits for the large glass panel to unlatch from the lock and slide into the opposite wall, revealing the hall beyond, and both Samuel and Charlie waiting to access the room.
“Unbind him,” Gerard orders.
Samuel rushes in first. An electrical gun is strapped to the waistband of his pants to the right, a baton toward the back of his bulletproof vest. He holds a semi-automatic rifle in his hands. Charlie walks in after Samuel. His arsenal is as impressive—a whip curled around his midsection, a pair of handguns tucked in holsters below his armpits, and a twelve-gauge shotgun in his hands, aimed forward.
They place their weapons on the floor near their feet for easy access, and set to work on my bonds, pulling them free of the buckles.
“He is to be placed in a cell.” Gerard’s cruelty knows no bounds. He has the power to turn my needs against me. “And you can keep him in there until his next feeding time.”
My heart skips a beat. A week? He intends to keep me there for a week?
Tiger, it must be today. Again Castiel’s voice tears through my mind. The right moment will present itself only once and you must be ready to take it.
No amount of walls, floors, or ceilings can keep him from communicating with me. Gerard and his crew can take away our freedoms, and on many occasions our wills, but he cannot stop of us from sharing telekinetic messages from one location of the Institute to the next. It’s the one thing we have where his influence does not reign.
I’m ready, I reply.
They free my numb limbs and I sigh in relief. Circulation is restored. I can move them easily now. Once both wrists are released, I bring them up to my eyes and rub first one and then the other.
“Let’s go, big boy.” Samuel nudges my thigh with the barrel of his rifle. “A week in the hole awaits you.” He sneers at me, but I ignore his remark. Using the gurney’s metal rails, I pull myself into a sitting position. By then Charlie is done unbinding my ankles and I glance down at my swollen foot. It aches and will hurt when I put my weight on it.
“Get off the bed, slowly,” Charlie orders. “No sudden movements.” He reaches for the shotgun and levels it with my stomach. The warning is clear. “Let’s make this transition as easy as possible.”
I nod, swinging my legs over the top of the rail to my left. I grab on to it with my hands and push myself over to the floor. Hot, stabbing pain shoots from the sole of my foot up to my ankle but I do my best to ignore it. I’m unsteady for a moment, but recover in an instant. I force myself to. Physical discomfort must be pushed aside. All focus should go on the mission ahead. The rest can wait.
A few seconds is all it takes for me to bounce back. I’m no longer as lightheaded, but the pain is almost unbearable. After all the years I have been forced to endure such treatment, getting used to the waves of agony once the men tire of roughing me up is not something I have managed. Hostility and torture are part of my everyday life, but given the choice, I would forgo both.
Collected, I step forward to test my foot. It’s throbbing and tender, but manageable. Healing at a much faster rate than those at the Institute is one reason I began to notice our differences. The first time I broke a guard’s wrist, he needed weeks to improve. When I first broke my leg, it had mended within hours.
“Good boy. Now let’s get going.” Samuel points to the exit. “Walk ahead of us and remember, no funny business.”
I limp past Gerard, Samuel, and Charlie. Every step sends pain radiating throughout my entire body as the broken ribs rub against each other. I grit my teeth to keep from moaning. Trickles of blood from the multiple cuts on my skin stream down to my hips, where they soak through my pants. Nothing can be done so I bear with it. As I get near the door, I spy four other of Radcliffe’s guards on standby in the hallway, each armed with rifles. They are covered from head to toe, but I can identify each one by scent alone.
“Get a move on.” Samuel shoves the barrel of his rifle into my spine. I walk forward, limping past the four other guards into the bright hallway.
The walls, floors, and ceilings of the Institute are white. Over the years I have come to detest the color. It represents a stale, dull, devoid-of-life environment I despise almost as much as the color itself. Light bounces off the contemporary structure with ease, too, which causes the glare to bother my eyes. Aggravated, I close them. The elevators are down the hall to the left so I allow my sense of direction to guide me. Behind me, Gerard and his men proceed with caution, alert to any signs of rebellion on my part.
It is almost time, Castiel’s voice resounds inside my head. You will only get once chance, Tiger. Take it.
The alarm roars to life once again. The time has finally come. The commotion confuses the guards, and Gerard begins to shout out orders. Two of the men retreat down the hall toward the room I was in, to shut off the alarm. Charlie reaches out for the radio strapped to his vest. I can barely hear him calling the security station on the ground lobby to demand a report. I hold my position with my eyes still closed and balance my weight on my left foot. The noise makes me want to drop down and cover my ears, but I wait instead.
The guards run from room to room in an attempt to place the breach in security. They use their radios to contact every floor and ask where the break has occurred. They receive a reply within moments, confirming nothing is amiss. They will not find a breach because there is none. It was set off as a means of distraction. Samuel approaches and lands a hand on my right shoulder. He calls to me, but I ignore him. He pulls on my shoulder. I resist.
Now, Tiger!
I open my eyes, turn slightly to my right, and slam my elbow into his face. Samuel falls on his knees, clutching his bleeding nose. I bolt. Using what little strength my body has managed to retain, I run toward the glass window at the end of the hall. The pain is all but forgotten as adrenaline kicks in.
Bullets whizz past me, hitting the walls, light fixtures, doors, and the tiled floor. Most fly over my head. One grazes my left arm, but I use the momentum I’ve gained to propel my body onward.
Gerard yells to the men to stop me, but it’s too late. I pick up speed, pushing my injured body beyond its current capabilities. My target is in sight. I lock my keen eyesight on the window, and crash into it a few heartbeats later. The glass panel breaks apart instantly. I freefall for about a second before maneuvering my body so I’ll land on my feet. Shards of glass accompany me on my way down.
Heavy raindrops saturate my body with cold water almost as soon as I am out the window. The drastic change in temperature shocks me, but my system works quickly to regulate heat. I land a moment later on muddy, wet dirt. I glance down at my bare toes digging into the thick soil and wonder—for a fraction of a second—what it would be like to be truly free. To not be forced to kill. To find out what the world outside of Radcliffe Institute has to offer.
The fresh, clean air is the first taste of true freedom I’ve had in months, but I have no time to enjoy it. Unless I make it to the road, my chances at a normal life will vanish forever.
The wet hair plastered halfway down my face blocks my view of the guards posted outside of the main building so I rely on my sense of smell to pinpoint their location. There are eight in total. Four are spread out at the rear of the building. Two stand by the lobby entrance, one on each side of the doors. The remaining two are posted by the main gate.
Those two I need to worry about. They stand between me and my chance at freedom. I will not let them stop me.
Up above, chaos erupts. Gerard commands the guards to stop me by any means necessary. His voice is loud and raspy from the constant barking; his desperation grows with every second I am free of his grasp. He screams into the handheld radios, catching the attention of all the men on the outside of the building. They rush toward me immediately. The steady vibrations on the ground tell me they’re rapidly approaching on all directions.
I stand, and set sight on my new target. The gate is not far, but the ground to cover might prove difficult if surrounded by armed men. It is too late to stop now in any case. I take off. An eruption of bullets rains down on me from above, but I manage to run fast enough to avoid them. In spite of the pain in my foot, I pick up pace. With every step, I come closer to freedom. That is enough to keep me motivated.
I’m moments away from reaching the entrance when two guards come running at me, rifles leveled at my chest. I recognize them by scent. These two will not hesitate to shoot if necessary, but a little intimidation will go a long way. I snarl. The guttural sound travels far, forcing the glass windows of the vehicle’s in the parking lot to clatter noisily. Both guards hesitate. I sprint forward, putting more effort into making sure my eyes glow and canines are visible. The men stand their ground.
I continue moving without breaking stride. Their trepidation draws me in. I’ve been around these guards long enough to know they want to tuck in their tails and flee, but somewhere up in the broken window, Gerard watches the scene play out and if they hesitate, they will have to answer to him. Seconds before I crash into the men, I leap over them and land on the other side without a sound. My feet have barely touched the ground when I take off running again toward the gate. The guards turn and open fire. I’m hit by several bullets, but it is the one that lodges itself near my spinal cord what knocks me over. I roll on the muddy ground once, but pick myself up as quickly as I fall down. I race on.
The projectiles begin to cause all kinds of havoc. My strength drains away as blood oozes from the newly acquired wounds, but I cannot stop. The bullets won’t kill me, but will slow me down. At some point, my system will work to eject each invader, but right now they hitch a ride with me.
I fight off the need to drop on the spot, and force myself to stay focused on the task ahead. If I collapse, everything will be lost. I must hold it together a bit longer.
I reach the gate and hop over it, landing safely on the other side. I dash through the woods, careful to avoid trees, stumps, or anything that might make me lose my balance. There is about a mile of woodlands to cross. I set my mind on getting through it as quickly as possible. One wrong step could send me spiraling on the ground and allow my pursuers to catch up.
My excellent eyesight helps reduce the risk of losing my footing.
It won’t take Gerard much time to assemble a team and come after me. It is imperative for me to find the road before he does. My waning condition makes it difficult, though. I’m pushing myself further than I ever have before and my body feels the pressure.
Somehow, I plow through.
My effort pays off. I make it out of the woods and stagger carelessly onto the road. That was my mission. I made it, but Gerard won’t be far behind. Minutes. I may have precious minutes before they stumble upon me and there is no sign of her.
Where is she? How will I know whether it’s the right person? I shake my head in an attempt to clear it of the haze that’s taken hold of me. Castiel said she’d be here. She will come, but when?
I take a moment to try to calm my ragged breathing. Exhaustion has set in. It, combined with the lack of proper diet and the injuries I have sustained in the past hour, has me seeing double. My heart feels as if it is going to burst straight out of my chest. The pounding in my head has increased. I’m seconds away from passing out, but my stubbornness won’t allow me to give up. There’s one more thing I need to do, but I can’t imagine how I’m going to accomplish this.
Glancing to the left reveals an empty street. The only sound I hear is that of the raindrops splashing against the hardness of the asphalt. The incessant drumming in my head may be responsible for that. Or the ringing in my ears. I’m not sure which.
Dizzy spells assail me. My stomach grumbles in protest. I’m disoriented and unable to recall in what direction I need to go. I think I hear a car coming but I’m not sure. I glance to my right and am blinded by a pair of headlights heading straight toward me. I brace myself for impact.