Chapter Twenty-Five

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Kristina

The past eighteen hours have been long and grueling. We woke up early after spending the night in the abandoned storage shed, packed our stuff, and walked to the bus station while trying our best to be discreet, in hopes of not drawing attention to ourselves. Once we verified that Gerard’s goons were nowhere in sight, we bought two tickets and took the first bus out of town.

We slept very little on the trip. Letting our guard down wasn’t an option. Both Tiger and I kept a close watch the entire time. By no means was I going to assume we were safe. Being around other people or in public places did nothing to calm my paranoia. By my way of thinking, I had good reason to look continuously over my shoulders. The more we’re out and about, the easier we are to identify or spot.

Thankfully, we arrived at Rapid City, South Dakota, about an hour ago. I’m bone-tired and starving, but grateful that we haven’t encountered any armed men in black suits, with murder in their eyes and an air of hostility. I’m not trying to fool myself. At some point, our pursuers might catch up to us, but I’m in a positive frame of mind.

If I’m consumed by fear, I can’t concentrate. I need to keep a clear head if we are to come up with an impromptu plan, if necessary. As of now, the only option we have is flight. We can’t fight them, not when it’s only the two of us, and I have no inclination this will change.

By asking for directions from strangers, we’ve managed to walk a good five miles to the location in question, which is right in the middle of nowhere. There are no obvious landmarks, not many houses around, and the dirt path we followed in order to get here looks as if it’s not well taken care of.

On our way over, we opted against catching a ride with anyone. Trekking all the way up here, as weary as we are, wasn’t easy. It took a lot out of me and only Tiger’s gentle persuasion kept me going. Had it been me alone, I would have probably sat down on the side of the road and not gotten up until morning.

Now that we’re standing in front of a shady-looking metal gate, I’m wondering if we’re in the right place. It’s around two in the morning. I don’t see any lights on or hear any noises that could give us any indication someone calls this place home.

I’m confused and feel a little disoriented. Shouldn’t there be a house here? A nice, warm shelter where there’s, hopefully, real food?

“Someone’s here,” Tiger whispers as he steps toward the gate. I follow.

“Really?” I’ve barely made it past the opening when a tall, dark figure emerges in front of us, popping out into the clear from behind a wall of old cars, and points what looks like a shotgun to my head.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you.” He keeps the shotgun level with my forehead and shuffles forward. “If you’re looking for somewheres to spend the night, this isn’t the right place for you. If you’re hungry, I’m sorry to say I ain’t got no food. If you’re lost and looking for directions, downtown is about ten miles east. Now get going.”

Tiger tenses next to me, shoulders thrown back, legs spread apart. “We’re not looking for any trouble.” He coils up like a rattler getting ready to strike. Should it come down to it, I’m sure he won’t hesitate to come to my defense.

“There ain’t gonna be any trouble if you stay right there. If you so much as move an inch, I’ll blow your head clean off,” the man threatens, and the sick part is, he means it.

“Wait!” I raise my palms in surrender. “I was told to come here. At least, I think this is the right place.” Stomach tied in knots, I can barely breathe without feeling as if I’m going to pass out. I’d hate to have come this far, only to end up gunned down.

“You a girl?” The stranger lowers the shotgun an inch, raising his baseball cap up with his right thumb to, I assume, get a better look at me. “You wouldn’t happen to be Rose’s grandkid, would you?”

I’m officially freaked out now. “What’s the relation between you two?”

“She’s an old friend. You must be Kristina. Rose told me you’d get here either today or tomorrow.” He lowers the shotgun to his side. “Been expecting you, actually.”

“Grandma got in contact with you?” I release a shaky breath, and in the meantime try my very best to get my legs going again. For a second there, I thought I’d crumple to the ground in a heap. Nothing makes you value your life choices more than having a firearm aimed at your face.

“Why don’t we talk inside?” Spinning around, the man heads in the same direction he came out from, without waiting to see if we follow. He guides us through a maze of abandoned cars, which by what little I’ve been able to observe, seems like the place where the 80s and 90s broken-down models came to die.

The old, rusted vehicles stacked on top of one another gives the property a sense of creepiness and foreboding. Relatively speaking, I’m far from comforted here. This man is a stranger. Grandma might have urged me to come to this site, but I have no clue what kind of person I’m dealing with.

I have put some trust in Tiger, but only because I’ve been given no choice. If push comes to shove, will he throw me under the bus? I’m winging my way through all this. In the end, I’m aiming blindly.

“Are you all right?” Tiger asks. He clasps my wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze as if he’s picked up on my anxiety.

I reward his effort with a ghost of a smile. “I’d like to say yes, but...” I shrug.

He leans in, lips dangerously close to mine. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

It’s impossible for him to fulfill his promise, but I can’t bring myself to tell him that so I nod, smile spreading in encouragement.

“Don’t stray,” the man calls out in front of us, interrupting our private conversation.

“You live here?” I take a hasty turn to the right in order to catch up. The man moves as if he has Satan himself hot on his heels.

“‘Live’ is a bit of a stretch. I’ve taken temporary shelter here.” He continues down a narrow passage for a few more paces before taking another sharp turn to the left. “FYI, I’d advise against wandering around this place. There are trip wires scattered strategically throughout. One wrong step and you’ll end up with a nasty headache, six feet under.”

“Consider us warned.” I’m a little stupefied by how well he can move around in the dark. I’m glad he’s directly in front of us, leading the way.

Finally, we make it out of the car maze and stumble upon a small cottage, petite in size, but welcoming if nothing else. Due to the lack of lights I can’t discern any details, but given my tiredness and cold, clammy hands I couldn’t care less if it were filthy inside, so long as it’s warm.

I follow the man up the three stairs leading to the front porch and wait while he opens the door.

“Step right in,” he says, moving aside as he gestures for us to walk in.

A single candle atop of coffee table gives light to a sparsely furnished living room.

“Thank you.” I stroll inside, fidgeting with the strap of my bag as I go along. A single futon and a coffee table are the only furniture aside from a small table jam-packed with what seems like old newspapers. An array of cardboard boxes is aligned against the walls, most of which are filled with a collection of items I can’t identify for sure, but if memory serves me correctly, I think may be used to fabricate homemade bombs.

“You have quite an arsenal,” I point out as I gawk at one particular box.

“You can’t be too careful when it comes to Gerard and his men.” The man settles his shotgun on the coffee table before moving to shut and lock the front door. “You had me confused there, for a moment.” He strolls toward us, eyes roaming over Tiger for a split second before averting to me. “I thought you were just another dumb kid looking for trouble.”

“Local population of teenage kids causing you problems?”

Tiger stands beside me, assessing our host with a mixture of curiosity and weariness.

“Not exactly. A bunch of kids came by a few months ago and tried to break in. Nearly blew their brains out. Had to scare them off pretty good in order to get them to leave. They haven’t returned, but I’m always watching just in case.” Our host saunters over to the coffee table and stands with his arms crossed over his chest. Now I can see the green of his eyes, and that he’s probably no older than thirty-five at best.

“So what are you? A victim? An escapee?”

The man shakes his head, his long beard swaying from one side of this chest to the other with each of his movements. “I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, darling.” There’s resentment in the man’s eyes, and anger.

“So was I, apparently.”

“My name is Ray, by the way.” He gestures to the futon and says, “Why don’t you have a seat?”

I drop my bag on the floor before slumping down on the futon. “Thanks.”

Tiger continues to gape at Ray, as if unable to make up his mind on whether or not we can trust him. Given the awkwardness of our first meeting, can’t say I blame him much for being overly cautious.

“Go on, boy. Take a seat. No harm, no foul. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Ray gestures to the futon.

With a dip of his chin, Tiger retreats toward the futon and sits to my right, elbowing the bags to the floor with a stiff push. “I’m going on a limb and assume you’ve been informed of what brought us here.”

“Rose filled me in, but all I need to hear is that Gerard is involved and I’ll help any poor soul in need. But before I get to drilling you two, how about I offer you some food.”

“Oh, please,” I exclaim enthusiastically. I can’t take any more of that store-bought junk we’ve been filing our bellies with.

Ray removes his baseball cap and tosses it on the box filled to the brim with newspaper. “I take it you’re hungry.”

“Famished.”

“Great. I hope you’re in the mood for chicken noodle soup and freshly baked bread.”

“You cook?” I take off my hat, allowing my hair to cascade down my back, and lay it down on the cushion next to me.

“Actually, I used to be an executive chef in Austin.” He turns to leave. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll return shortly,” he says, before disappearing down a narrow hallway to our right.

I survey the room with open curiosity, wondering what led a man like Ray to hide out in the middle of nowhere. The walls are bare, the only thing covering the windows is a pair of wooden shutters, but it’s cozy, and for the most part, clean.

“Are you always this quiet around people?” I turn to Tiger and find him fidgeting with the laces of his shoes.

“Can’t ever figure out what to say,” he admits with a scowl.

I’ve never seen someone so incredibly out of place everywhere he goes. At the bus station, he kept from human interaction as much as possible. If anyone came near him, he shrank away like a frightened cat. On the bus, he sat near the window, gazing out, and only spoke when spoken to. Occasionally, he would point to something and ask what it was. I’d fill Tiger in, patiently providing him the information he needed while carefully watching for his reaction. He showed very little emotion, except for when something really caught his attention. Like when he first spotted a train. His eyes widened in wonderment and he could barely contain his excitement at seeing the locomotive.

“You did all right with Rose and me.”

The corners of his mouth curve up into a shy, almost embarrassed smile. I find myself staring at his lips, in spite of my better judgment. Although I have refrained from thinking about what happened between us in the shed, it hasn’t been far from my mind. There was a definite spark when we kissed. It wasn’t just my imagination. I led him on, but I never expected to be drawn the way I was. It shocked the hell out of me. Frankly speaking, it scares me a little too.

“It will take some time for me to be comfortable around others.” He fixes me with a look full of inquisitiveness, and something else. Longing? Interest?

“A penny for your thoughts,” I murmur.

He doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to. I can tell he’s working through something, so we just sit there, staring at each other instead, curious gazes straying from eyes to mouths and up again. He may or may not want the same thing I do. The sudden tension between us makes me highly aware of how easy it would be to lean in and...

“Here you are.” Ray’s voice booms in the silence, shattering the moment.

I inch away from Tiger unconsciously, hugging myself as I realize how close I came to kissing him.

“Food is nice and warm, perfect for this cold weather.” Ray comes into the room carrying a tray he places on the coffee table. “Would you get that for me?” He nods toward the shotgun. I pick it up and set it down carefully on top of a box, barrel facing the wall.

The food smells great and with just one sniff my stomach starts grumbling. “Is this a habit of yours, to cook at this time of night?”

Ray hands a bowl full of chicken noodle soup to Tiger. “Well, I’m usually restless at night so I tend to indulge in the fine art of cooking. Not that eating this late is particularly good for my health, but when you find something that works, you stick to it.”

I take the bowl he then offers me and ask, “To deal with the stress?”

“Something like that.” Ray pulls over a wooden chair I hadn’t noticed from one corner of the room, and sits across from me before picking up his own portion. On the tray there is another bowl, this one filled with bread. “This ain’t living. This is just survival.”

“I get it.” I reach for a piece of bread. I’m so happy to be eating something other than granola bars, chips, and donuts, that I plan to stuff myself.

“I don’t think you do. At least not yet. You’re one of us now, though. You’ll learn as you go along.” Ray puts his bowl on the tray and stands. “When it comes to drinks, I don’t have much, but I can offer you orange juice or water.”

“Water for me,” Tiger replies quickly.

“Me too.”

Ray walks into the kitchen and returns a moment later with a glass pitcher and three cups. He pours water in each cup, and then goes back to enjoying his meal. “What was the one rule Rose told you to stick by?” He swallows a spoonful of soup while he waits for my response.

“Grandma told me a lot of things,” I say, more concentrated on the meal than the conversation. One spoonful and I’m practically rolling my eyes, it’s that good. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is fantastic.”

The compliment eases a smile from Ray, but he doesn’t stray from the main subject. “Keep moving. Don’t stay in one place too long.” He points at me with his spoon. “Did she tell you this?”

I arch my eyebrows. What’s with the stiffness? “Yes, of course she did.”

“Don’t tell anyone where you’re going or where you’ve been.”

“That, too.” I take a couple more bites of chicken and noodle.

“Good. Abide by these rules and you should be okay. You look like a smart girl. You’ll handle yourself well. ’Course, it takes more than brains to stay one step ahead of Gerard.”

“Brains are a good start, though.”

“Your case is a little more complicated.” He spares a glance at Tiger, who hasn’t said a word since Ray walked into the room.

“Because she’s with me?” Tiger asks, pausing with his spoon midway to his mouth.

“Precisely.”

It’s settled, then. We are all caught up on how screwed up my situation is, which isn’t that surprising. The moment I picked Tiger up things began to go south, I just wasn’t aware of it yet.

“Yeah, well, if you all figured out how to elude Gerard, I’m sure we can too. We’ve done okay so far,” I say, coming to Tiger’s defense. Of course there’s no need to mention we’ve been on the verge of getting caught once already.

Ray reaches for a cup of water and takes a drink. “I’m glad you see it that way, because I’ve been on the run for fifteen years.”

The snort that escapes my mouth is completely unintentional, and very insensitive. “Fifteen years?”

“Yes. This is no game, girl. Once you’re on Gerard’s hit list, there’s no way of getting out of it. Not unless you’re dead or disappear, which is damn near impossible nowadays. Hiding takes a lot of effort and even so, more and more of us are caught before we can establish a safe haven.”

“So what’s your story, then? Evidently, everyone running from Gerard has one, so how did you cross paths with Frankenstein’s understudy?”

Ray smirks at me. “Frankenstein’s understudy? Gerard would enjoy your sense of humor.”

I ignore his remark and instead ask, “Did you work for him?”

Ray doesn’t answer right away, but empties his bowl before returning it to the tray. “To make a long story short, curiosity got the best of my wife and me one Sunday morning while we were vacationing in Washington state. We were hiking, and somewhere along the way we decided to take a different route. We veered off the main trail, and had the misfortune of stumbling upon a murder scene. Only...the victim...wasn’t exactly human.”

Finishing up my meal, I return the bowl to the tray and reach for a cup. “What do you mean?”

“What I saw, it couldn’t have been human. It was...at first I thought it was a bear, to be honest. But when a dozen well-armed men wearing protective gear from head to toe flanked us, and forced us out into the open, I realized no one would make such a big fuss for no dead bear.”

“Did you see what it was?”

Tiger is the last to empty his dish, which he sets aside to top off with a piece of bread and water.

“Gerard was trying to capture some big-shot alpha in the area, but things didn’t go as planned. The alpha put up one hell of a fight, but lost.”

I’m confused. “Alpha?

“As in werewolf alpha.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re kidding.”

The way Ray’s lips are set in a thin line tells me he is dead serious. “Lucille and I got there in time to see them empty out at least one full cartridge into the alpha’s head. Werewolves, as big and powerful as they are, are not immune to head wounds.”

Ray’s story is hard to assimilate, even after everything I’ve been through in the last few days. Tiger mentioned something about immortal beings, but from there to werewolves?

“I’m sorry, what?”

A look of disbelief mars Ray’s features. “You didn’t know what you’re dealing with.”

By way of answer I stare at Tiger. “Is that what this all about? Werewolves?”

Tiger gapes at the piece of bread in his hand, as if it’s the only one qualified to provide the answers I need. I’ve seen that befuddled expression on his face before. He’s keeping many secrets, and trying very hard to hide them from me.

“Among other things,” Ray responds.

Tiger’s lack of response prompts me to turn to Ray and ask, “Could you please explain?”

“Gerard Radcliffe’s obsession has led him around the world, looking for the best candidates to use as the source for his experimentations. Somehow, he’s managed to live longer than any human and has even kept the appearance of his youth, but at what cost?” Ray shrugs. “He has an arsenal of immortal creatures in his labs. Also, he doesn’t stop at just torturing these...beings to get what he requires of them. He employs ungodly methods to obtain whatever it is that he needs from them.”

My mind runs amuck with images of immortal creatures suffering a fate similar to Tiger’s. I can’t process it all at once. It’s overwhelming and beyond my comprehension. How many have suffered because of Gerard? How many more will be exposed to his despotism?

“Not content with this, he’s kidnapped humans who are later used as guinea pigs.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “The word ‘labs’ implies he has more than one.”

“Several throughout the states and quite possibly a large center in England.”

“How is he getting away with all this?”

“He kidnaps people that won’t be missed. Bums, prostitutes, drug addicts—people who, for the most part, won’t have family members or friends who’ll file a missing person’s report right away, sometimes at all. Although on occasion, he will make an exception. Like with my wife Lucille.”

“He kidnapped your wife?”

Ray dips his head. “Fifteen years ago.”

“Why didn’t you go to the police?”

“I did. They thought I was crazy.” He scoffs. “Within a week I became the primary suspect in my wife’s disappearance.”

“How did you get away from Gerard?”

“I pretended to be dead.” Ray pauses as if to compose himself; his eyes are heavy with emotion. The journey into the past is not an easy one for him, and this shines through, even with his best effort to stay poised. “We tried pleading for our lives, but Gerard is not merciful. He shot me several times, ordered his men to throw my body down a hill, and took my wife. I was found the following morning by a group of hikers and was airlifted to the nearest hospital. Police came in to question me the following evening, but nothing of what I told them was believed. They wrote me off as mentally unstable, and were quick to point the accusing finger in my direction.”

“Do you know whether or not your wife is alive?”

“No.” He rubs his chin with his palm, pulling at the hairs of his beard as he adds, “In the past ten years, I’ve hit two of his compounds looking for her, to no avail. The last time I tried, I barely made it out of there alive. Gerard has every location packed with security on twenty-four-hour shifts. For a small group of twelve, it was impossible to go in without detection, but we were desperate enough to try. Four good men died that day, and the rest of us have lived to regret our impulsive decision to attack without a sufficiently productive plan.”

“I have a few questions about Gerard.”

“I may not have all the answers, but I’ll do my best to get you up to speed.”

I settle my gaze on Tiger, seeing as he has yet to add something useful to the conversation, but he appears lost in thought.

Somewhat disappointed, I divert my attention to Ray. “Is he immortal?”

Ray leans forward to rest both forearms on his knees. “Assuming by how long he’s lived, we could say a part of him is immortal. But he wasn’t born one. His prolonged existence may be as a result of the experiments he’s done.

“Quite frankly, the extent of his successes or failures is still under investigation. We haven’t been able to infiltrate someone inside. Gerard is very careful about who he hires. We have vague details about the labs, the Institute’s protocol, or the exact number of prisoners, both human and others. We’d need to be more informed in order to rescue our counterparts.”

“We?”

Ray cocks his head to the side. “Tell me something, Kristina. Why would Rose send you out here on a whim?”

Send me out on a whim? Grandma would do no such thing. She’s not the type of person who acts on a spur-of-the-moment thought or idea. “She didn’t.”

“Exactly. Gerard’s victims have united in hopes of stopping him. Given the circumstances in which you had to flee, Rose didn’t have time to catch you up, but we have an allegiance. One that links us together for a common purpose.”

It shouldn’t surprise me to know Grandma is part of a group aiming to end Gerard once and for all, but it does. I never saw this coming.

“Who else belongs to your alliance?”

“Rose gave you a list, correct?”

“Yes.”

“There are names and addresses there of people you can trust. However, most are not on the list. Given the path you’re taking, I assume Rose only logged those you could access on short notice.” He frowns. “But you must stick by the rules. Do not say where you’re going or where you’ve been. This way, no one can track down your movements.”

“I get it.”

Ray runs one hand through his shaggy, chestnut hair. “Good.”

I clear my throat. “There’s somewhere I need to go. Did Grandma tell you?”

I’m beginning to think I’m another piece in this giant game of chess and maybe Tiger’s abrupt arrival into our lives was not a coincidence.

“This I’m curious about.” Ray spares a look at Tiger. “This man you need to find, how will he help you? Us?”

Tiger sets the empty cup on the tray. “I was told to go to him and explain what has been going on in these Institutes. The man should be able to help me bring down Gerard. That’s all I have to go on.”

“In order for you to persuade this man, you’re going to have to do one hell of a job at convincing him. No one will want to get involved in something this big and dangerous.”

“No one will want to get involved,” I say. “It’s common sense. Who’d want to battle against someone as imposing as Gerard? But seeing as things are only getting worse, we have one of two choices. We either put up a front and give this man a run for his money, or live on the run for the rest of our lives.”

Ray cracks a smile. “I agree with you, but this isn’t your ordinary war. One mistake, as little as it might be, can and most likely will be your last. Are you okay with the fact that no matter where you go, you’re never entirely safe?”

No, I’m not okay with that, but what else can I do? My life is already ruined.

“It’s not like I have any other options here.”