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Tiger
Kristina walks off to wash up as Ray rejoins me in the living room. In the past hour, we have spoken a lot, but he has been waiting for the opportunity to question me in private. With Kristina out of the room, the time has come for me to clear things up with him.
“What’s his name?” he inquires with a lift of the brow.
His question takes me by surprise. I half expected him to ask me anything else but this.
“I was told to keep that information to myself,” I relate, firmly setting my jaw. One rule we all have to abide by is to keep any facts to a minimum. Unless it’s absolutely necessary, no physical descriptions or names should be mentioned or passed on.
Ray nods, absently rubbing his chin with the thumb of his right hand. “Figured as much.”
“He may be compromised,” I add.
To this, Ray straightens, and curls his fingers into his palm. “Because of the escape?”
“Yes.” I lower my voice. “Gerard caught him on camera feeding me when I was ordered to be starved for a few days. He’s aroused suspicion among the other guards and is being monitored. He tripped the security system to make room for my part in the plan, but there is no doubt Gerard has men watching our contact’s every move.”
Had Castiel not meticulously planned my escape, I would have not made it this far. My mentor waited years for someone to come in who he deemed a good candidate. Once Castiel noted the guard’s compassionate nature toward the prisoners at the Institute, he knew our contact was the perfect opportunity.
He wasn’t mistaken, but now the man is in danger, alongside the rest of us.
“It’d be impossible to get him out before Gerard ties the knots, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Damn,” Ray exclaims. He says nothing more for a while, his half-lowered eyes focused on the table in front of him.
I wait patiently for him to work some of the frustration out. His concerns are not unfounded, but we are all at risk. Pulling the man out of the operation will only call for more attention.
“As soon as you kids leave, I’ll be heading out, too. Most of us will rendezvous in a day at an undisclosed location. The others will wait for you two to ensure your passing through the area without incident.” Ray points a finger at me. “You make sure you both reach the next checkpoint. The rest of the crew will clear out the region for an uncomplicated voyage.”
“Gerard will have men posted anywhere he can get away with,” I argue, aware that all their effort might not be sufficient for Kristina and me to make it safely to Iowa.
Ray wrinkles his nose as if he’s caught whiff of some unpleasant odor. “We’ll work these kinks out. Don’t worry.”
I want to ask how, but refrain from doing so. They have organized themselves well. The proof is in how long they have eluded capture, and spread, while steering clear of Gerard and his army.
Ray clears his throat then, his gaze assessing my reaction as he says, “I’m no expert by any means, but one careful evaluation of you is enough to conclude you’re not human.”
“I’m not,” I admit with apprehension.
“Now, word on the street is that you’re a valuable asset for Gerard and he’s willing to pay top dollar to whoever captures you.”
“Gerard will never keep his word,” I warn.
“I assumed as much. Unfortunately, there’re idiots out there who’ll chance it anyway.”
I gaze into Ray’s green eyes. “I won’t go down without a fight.”
“Listen to me.” Ray pulls the chair closer to the coffee table. “You’re traveling with Rose’s grandkid. Rose is a very dear friend of mine. I don’t want anything to happen to either of them.”
Ray has taken us into his home and offered us food and a place to spend the night because of Rose. This is not a random act of kindness.
“It was Rose who suggested I take Kristina along. She was worried about Gerard and what he would do, should he catch her granddaughter,” I explain. “I promised to protect Kristina.”
“I don’t just mean from Gerard’s henchmen, if you catch my drift.”
I nod. “Your warning has been heeded.”
Ray’s expression shifts from one of anger to one of curiosity. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Is that right?” A hand goes up to pull on the long hairs of his prominent beard. “Isn’t that something.” A look of confusion soon replaces the one of surprise. “Where were you before Gerard decided to move his main lab to Wyoming?”
“Someplace called Oregon.” Ray is more caught up than I imagined him to be. This I find very interesting. What else is the Legion aware of?
“Our troop has been keeping tabs on Gerard as best as we can with what little personnel we possess. Over the years we have landed a small number of significant blows to his company—commandeering a few of his supply vehicles, liberating a handful of prisoners, the works. But hijacking an eight-story building full of well-armed men would be a first. We could use all the help we can get, but we’ve hit a few dead ends when it comes to additional manpower. Several of us have gone as far as requesting help from a handful of werewolf packs in the surrounding states, but they wanted nothing to do with Gerard, or us. As you can imagine, this presents us with a real problem.”
“I can.”
Ray leans against the chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “We’ve managed to keep our members, as well as our numbers, on the down-low. Though it may not be for long.” Ray’s eyes settle on the table before him once more, as if he’s deeply analyzing something in his mind. “Five years ago, we received word he was getting ready to move something of great value and we tracked him to Wyoming. In the meantime, we discovered that one of his prized Institutes burned to the ground.” His eyes stray to me as he adds, “I’m assuming you’re what led him to move locations.”
Five years ago, was when I first realized murdering was wrong and that I didn’t have to kill. I understood there were other options and that Gerard had ordered me to kill men and women alike, for his own selfish purposes. I’d been forced to kill in order to satiate a hunger I couldn’t comprehend or control while half-starved.
A hybrid and I had been taken to a location to terminate a man and his mate. Forced at gunpoint to do as we had been ordered, we were to finish off what was supposed to be yet another torturous job quickly, and without much trauma for the victims. But when I was ordered to kill their newborn child, I rebelled. I couldn’t find enough evil within myself to hurt the innocent, nor could I fathom why Gerard would want such a young child dead.
This cost me, as it always did when I disobeyed. A few lashes later and I found myself on my knees, struggling between keeping my peace of mind and ending yet another excruciating segment of physical correction. Leon, the hybrid who accompanied me that fateful day, opened my eyes to our reality.
“I was used as a weapon. It was my job to dispose of Gerard’s competition, and on occasion, anyone he deemed a threat. Five years ago, I was ordered to carry out a job and I refused. The family members of those he ordered us to kill came to suspect who was behind the assassination, and retaliated.”
Among the casualties had been several of Gerard’s men and a few hybrids. Gerard claimed I’d been one of the lucky ones, to be rescued from the fire unleashed that night by the enemy party, but what he didn’t know is that I deliberately stayed behind to wait for those who’d come, wanting them to end my torment once and for all.
They found me in my room, where I had waited for their arrival. They shot me a dozen times, left my bleeding body on the floor, and set the room ablaze. When I awoke the hybrids, were dragging my severely burned body out of the building, and transferred me to yet another Institute for Gerard to continue his never-ending quest for greatness and perfection, at my expense.
“How did you escape?”
“I didn’t. I stayed behind.” I squeeze my eyes shut as I recall the moment the men in blue came into the room, covered from head to toe in gear similar to the style used by Gerard’s employees, but not as extravagant, and doused my room with flammable liquid before lighting it up. I didn’t try to fight them. I deserved my punishment. With me dead, Gerard would have to begin anew, and in my mind, that was the best form of revenge. Fate had other plans for me. It took me weeks to recover, but I stand here today with no visible scars as proof of what transpired that night five years earlier. “I was rescued and transferred to Wyoming.”
“Why didn’t you try to escape when everything turned chaotic?”
“I wanted to die,” I reply in all honesty.
“I see.” In Ray’s eyes, I read sympathy. But I am undeserving of this emotion. “So you were not only used as the base of his experimentations but as a death-dealer, too.”
“I’m not the only one. There are other death-dealers,” I clarify.
With a subtle lift of the shoulders, Ray directs the nature of our conversation elsewhere. “What exactly are you? I can’t tell just by looking.”
I lower my gaze to the coffee table once again as his eyes search mine. “Gerard has kept this a secret. Even from me.”
“Hmm. I wonder why?” Ray asks pensively. He says nothing, but snaps out of his stupor in the next instant, to direct another question at me. “While you were in Oregon and then in Wyoming, did you ever see...if she’s alive, she’s in her mid-thirties, but...did you ever see a young woman with long, red hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her face, right about here?” He points to his left cheek.
I shake my head. “The Institute has seven levels plus the lobby, and there are people living within those walls I have never seen. She could be there, but she could be somewhere else.”
Disappointment clouds Ray’s face. I recognize the moment hope begins to waver. His mission is not so different from mine. He has lived this long so he can rescue the mate taken from him so long ago. But it would serve him well to prepare for the worst. His wife may have been killed off long ago, or died as a consequence of whatever experimentation was performed on her.
Ray blows out some air, the rage boiling up inside undetectable except for the unusual pattern of his beating heart, which only I can hear. “One way or another, I’m going to find out what happened to Lucille.”
I nod, unable to come up with something to soothe his dismay. Reality is more difficult to confront without an incentive and Ray has hope, if nothing else, keeping him motivated.