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Tiger
Kristina locks eyes with me. In her gaze, I see fear and confusion. Her basic human instincts are to protect those she cares for. Rose is a very important person for her, one she will do anything to shelter from harm. In my observations of Kristina, I have noticed she puts her next of kin ahead of her. Is this how it is supposed to be?
Is it what I’m doing? Or was my decision to partake in this mission solely based on vengeance? The desperate need for freedom?
If Gerard finds me, he will peel the skin off of me. This is something Kristina has no way of guessing. Rose and her will likely each end up with a bullet between their eyes, and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere—if he realizes they have been helping me.
She has risked so much already without being aware of the fact.
I am unsure how to feel about this. Coming here was a mistake. I shouldn’t have involved either of them. But I have come this far. All those weeks of planning, of plotting, will be lost if I turn back now. No one at the Institute is safe and if I fail, more innocent lives will suffer.
I’m divided and feel as if I am being pulled apart inside. I promised to do whatever was needed to ensure I would arrive at my destination and find a way to free the prisoners at the Institute. But doing so requires me to use and manipulate Kristina. How can I achieve this when talking for as long as I have with her is difficult for me? Communicating is not my forte. In hindsight, I was sent to do things that are not only uncomfortable but physically painful.
Hiding my inner demons, lying, manipulating, speaking coherently—none of these are things I have previously done nor know how to do well. But am forced to learn and apply them at a rapid rate in hopes of gaining Kristina’s trust. She is not a part of my dark past, therefore she has no idea what I have been subjected to, but she does not deserve to be put in this position. She is but an innocent pawn in all this.
“Is that where your injuries came from?” she asks, pulling me to the present.
“Which ones?”
She straightens her shoulders and pushes a lock of long, brown hair behind her left ear. “All of them.”
I sigh. “The bullets were from when I ran away. The whips from before.”
“Before you tried to escape?” Her face registers shock.
“Yes.”
“Why,” she swallows, “would they do something like that?”
“I fought back. I’m not supposed to do that. I have to follow orders.”
She covers her face, as if my words are too much to take in. “My...gosh,” she murmurs. “What kind of...lunatics?” Kristina looks at me. “Not sure I should get more involved than what I already am.”
“By the time they think to look for me here I’ll be gone,” I say to reassure her, but the lie makes me uncomfortable.
Kristina stands. “I’m not stupid. If something happens to my grandmother, I have no one else to blame but myself for helping you. But if you...” She doesn’t finish, but the emotion in her expression is clear.
“I will leave before anything happens to her.” I stand also. “Or you.”
I expect her to march away, but she doesn’t. She holds herself in place, her gaze assessing me. I do the same, regarding her in silence. Already I sense the fighting spirit in her. In spite of her reservations when it comes to me, she does not hesitate to stand her ground.
In my opinion, that is an admirable trait. Castiel would agree.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re not what you appear to be?” she asks at last.
“Because I’m not what I appear to be,” I say in all honesty. My response, far from terrifying her more, seems to quiet her fears some.
She releases some air and says, “I can feel it.”
“That frightens you?” I know it does, but I want to hear her response.
“Wouldn’t it frighten you?” she retorts.
Her retort is unexpected. “If I were you, I would be.”
She looks shaken. “If you were me? Are you completely oblivious to common sense? Your wording does very little to calm me down.”
Common sense? Castiel explained to me what that is. I can’t say for sure I act on it most times. I’m guided by my instincts. It has always been that way. I go by what I’m comfortable with.
“I just see others for what they are,” I reply at last.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“What is it you wish to hear?”
“What are you afraid of?”
I think over my response. Fear has been input in me since I was old enough to remember. It is how Gerard gets me to do what he wants. It’s how he manipulates everyone he intends to victimize. But I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to be free. I ache for deliverance.
“People,” I mutter.
Kristina’s eyes widen. “Even me?”
“It is hard for me to trust. As it is for you.”
She takes a step forward. “Then we’ll just have to see what you turn out to be.”
There’s conviction in her voice. No matter how honest I am, she will have her reservations. This is something I anticipated. Castiel warned me Kristina wouldn’t be easy to win over. I doubt I ever will.
“In time.”
“We’ll just have to see, then,” she quips, turning to march away.
The only way I’m going to gain any semblance of Kristina’s trust is by actions and not words. She might change her mind then.
Kristina makes it to the house, but I linger. I’m surrounded by tall trees. The sounds of small animals running about fill my ears. For most of my life I have only been able to admire such greenery by means of windows or through books. Never have I felt so carefree out in the open like this.
I set aside my conversation with Kristina to focus on the beauty of the land around me.
Breathing in the fresh, clean air invigorates me. At the Institute, the smell of medicine, chemicals, blood, and despair clings to the air. The sickening sound of fear and pain spreads like a deadly disease there, too. Out here, however, the only sounds disturbing the peace are those of the two tiny, bushy-tailed rodents squabbling over a chestnut.
It’s peaceful here. I enjoy this very much. I wish I could stay, but I can’t. I mustn’t. It isn’t safe.
I start toward the house, listening in as I get closer. By the noise inside the dwelling, I deduce Rose is in the kitchen and Kristina somewhere in the living area. Not wanting to disturb either of them, I head inside and for the bedroom I’ve been assigned. “You might want to take those socks off. Otherwise you’ll drag mud all over the house.” I pause halfway across the room to glance at her, finding her pointing to what I assume are the socks she’s referring to.
Nodding, I reach down to remove them, and ball them up in my hands.
“Dear boy, you need to clean up.” Rose emerges from the kitchen, towel in hand. “Come now.”
She paces toward the main staircase without another word. I follow.
Rose tosses the towel over her right shoulder as she ascends the stairs. I march up behind her, fully aware of Kristina’s gaze on me. She never ceases to keep watch over me, which is disheartening. In her mind, I am apparently the enemy—someone to maintain a safe distance from, yet never lose sight of.
Castiel had made me believe I was prepared for this mission, but I have come to realize that is not the case. Earning someone’s trust is more difficult than I imagined it to be.
Up on the second floor, Rose leads me to the bathroom where clothes have been laid on top of a cabinet next to the bathtub. “Do you know how to work one of these?” Rose points to the coppery knobs underneath the shower head.
“No,” I reply in embarrassment. I’ve never bathed in a bathtub before. I’ve seen them, touched one or two, but as far as setting foot inside one—never.
“Have you ever taken a bath?”
I shake my head, avoiding eye contact by focusing my gaze on the porcelain tub.
“Well, there are a few basic things you should learn. For instance, it’s important to pull the shower curtain to keep the floor from getting wet.” She demonstrates by tugging on the shower curtain so that it touches each wall on either side. “Also, these knobs are for the hot and cold water. This one is for the hot water, which you’d have to turn toward the door.” She rotates the knob so the end points to where I stand. “This one is for the cold, which you’d turn toward the wall. Be careful with the hot water, you can get burned. Alternate between both of these to get the appropriate temperature. Have the cold water going first and then the hot, to avoid accidentally scalding your skin.”
After a quick demonstration, I feel confident about being able to manage on my own. “I think I got it.”
Smiling, she manipulates the knobs so the water turns off. “Here’s the soap.” She points to a green bar on a see-through, plastic shelf on the opposite wall as that of the shower head. “And shampoo. Don’t get it in your eyes, though. It will sting if you do.”
“Thank you for the warning.”
“How did you go about this before?” Rose gestures to the tub.
“I was hosed down. Once a week. It was painful,” I reply, recalling the last time Dan and Rupert brought the hose into my room and sprayed me with a jet of water, which left my skin red and raw afterward. The more I fought or tried to avoid the path of the liquid being sprayed on me, the longer they kept at it. Eventually, I learned to endure the pain long enough to get clean and therefore, get them to leave me alone.
Rose remains silent, but observes me quietly for a moment. I have been scrutinized before so her standing but a few feet away, studying me, isn’t new, though it doesn’t feel any less uncomfortable.
If she stares at me long enough, will she see me for what I am? I have the impression she not only suspects, but recognizes I’m not human.
I shift slightly to my left, avoiding eye contact by staring at the light blue wall behind Rose.
“How did you escape the Radcliffe Institute?” she asks at last, breaking the silence between us. Stunned, I turn wide eyes to her. “How do you know about the Institute?” Though she had hinted at understanding more than she was willing to speak about, hearing her mention the Institute disconcerts me.
“The Radcliffes have been seeking the cure to cancer and premature aging...so on and so forth. At the very least, that’s what they have people believing. I’ve heard such nonsense in the news about their incredible medical breakthroughs. How they are so close to uncovering the cure for so many diseases that plagues us.” She walks past me to a closet behind me and removes a pair of towels she then hands over to me. “I don’t know much about what goes on over there, but enough to understand the Radcliffes’ discoveries have come at a cost to many.”
I want to ask how familiar she is with the Radcliffe Institute and all that goes on there, but the slump of her shoulders and refusal to meet my gaze discourages me from doing so.
“Take a shower. When you’re done, you can join Kristina and me in the kitchen.” She touches my arm lightly. It’s disquieting. I’m not used to this sort of physical contact. Unless I’m being punched, kicked, or threatened, I’m unsure how to respond.
“Thank you,” I say, unsure if she expects me to say something else. I can’t find words to describe how thankful I am, so I keep my peace.
Rose rewards my efforts with a smile. “You’re very welcome.” Without another word, she walks out, shutting the door behind her.
I turn to the tub, and an overwhelming sense of relief grips me. This week, at least, I won’t be required to endure another one of Dan’s scheduled spray-downs with the giant hose.
Today, I get to bathe like a normal person does.