The next day, I’m still riding on the high of flying with Warwick. We didn’t go very high, or very fast, but it had felt almost like we were dancing in mid-air. With his arms wrapped securely around me and his heart beating against my breast, I had no fear despite my lack of control in the situation.
It would be enough to carry me through the day without seeing him. I wonder, as I slide out of bed and yawn, if Dane will actually keep his promise and come around to help me, despite how obviously he didn’t want to. I don’t really want him to come around, because I don’t want to push him into something he’s uncomfortable with.
Also, I cannot think of anything worse than having to spend my entire day with someone who has made it clear that they don’t like me being around.
Unfortunately, my wish didn’t come true. Just as I finish breakfast, still nursing half a cup of coffee, there’s a hard knock on the front door. It isn’t like Warwick’s playful taps, and I close my eyes with a sigh as I steel myself.
Still, maybe this will be good for us, I try to think optimistically as I make my way to the door. Dane doesn’t know me, so maybe us spending time together will at least get him to relax a little.
On opening the door and being met with his scowl, however, I realise that hoping for a tiny change in attitude might be too much.
“Come in, Dane,” I invite. “I was just about to head outside and feed the animals.”
“I’ll help,” Dane says, ignoring my invitation and turning to go around to the back of the house.
Well. This is going to be fun. Not.
I sigh and follow him around the side, closing my door as I go. He’s Warwick’s brother, I remind myself. And, since Warwick and I have been growing a lot closer recently, I need to at least make an effort to get to know Dane better and to convince him to trust me, even if I probably have a better chance at convincing rocks to cry than that.
I grin to myself at that. I’ll just have to do my best.
Surprisingly, Dane isn’t a bad companion. Unlike Warwick, who’s talkative, likes to crack jokes and messes around until he gets himself into a bind, Dane is a hard, quiet worker who instantly gets sucked into the work. We finish the morning chores almost a whole hour sooner than I would have had Warwick been here.
“Wow, you’re much faster than your brother,” I try.
To his surprise, he actually responds.
“Warwick can be flighty,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “He’s just as bad at home.”
Then he claps his mouth shut, as though he had felt that he’d said too much, and looks away. Still, it’s progress. Who would have thought we’d find common ground in exasperation at Warwick’s antics?
“It doesn’t surprise me,” I reply, determined to get something more from him. “He messes around so much that sometimes we have to redo the same chore because of him. The other day he managed to knock down a fence.”
An unwilling snort bursts from Dane. To my disappointment, however, he just shrugs, apparently done with the conversation. I stand there awkwardly, holding an empty bucket, not sure what to do now.
“You were planning on working on the poison today?” Dane asks finally, glancing at me.
“Right!” I say a little louder than necessary. “Come inside and I’ll show you what I have!”
Even if Dane is far more efficient, I can’t help but miss Warwick. Warwick might be a prankster at heart, and frustrating at times, but at least I can relax around him. With Dane, I’m constantly on edge, wondering if I’m saying the right things. The last thing I need is to make his opinion of me worse.
Though I have no idea how I managed to get a bad rap in his eyes anyway. As far as Warwick knows, it’s just because I’m a stranger and Dane is automatically distrustful of people he doesn’t know.
I close my eyes briefly. I don’t even want to imagine what Dane must have gone through in his life.
“Do you want a drink or something to eat?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” he says shortly.
Despite him saying that, I grab a packet of cookies, a jug of water and a few glasses to take with us. We’ve worked hard this morning, and we definitely need something to revive us a little.
“If you feel hungry or thirsty, take whatever you need,” I offer, leaving them on the table and turning away, toward my little lab set-up in the living room.
Hearing a hesitation and then the crinkle of the plastic packet open, I smile to myself. I think I might be getting the hang of interacting with Dane.
“You built this?” Dane asks as he steps closer.
I eye my setup. It isn’t the largest lab in the world, but I have the proper equipment and just about everything I need to test the poison and try to draw out the elements I need for an antidote. There’s a petri dish under the microscope now, though it’s empty and a vial of a bluish liquid sitting to the side.
“Actually, I think I’ve cracked it,” I muse.
“What?” Dane asks, startled; it’s the first real emotion I’ve gotten from him.
“When I had a close look at the poison I got from Warwick,” I say, ignoring the mutinous look from Dane as he hears that, “I found that the particles within the poison were not as complex as I’d originally thought. On top of that, this poison bears a lot of similarities with cyanide, surprisingly. So I looked at the properties of sodium thiosulphate to get some inspiration.”
I can feel Dane watching me, possibly caught by my enthusiasm. I can’t help it. I simply love toxicology. The only thing I regret about leaving Doctors Without Borders is that I have fewer chances to explore toxins and their antidotes.
“Since the sodium and the thiosulphate compounds have a 2:1 ratio, I experimented with different ratios as well as different elements that could be used to counteract your poison,” I continue. “Obviously, your poison is not the same as cyanide, even if they’re similar. I’m not entirely certain that sodium thiosulphate could actually stop death being caused by your poison, but there’s a possibility that it could either slow death down, or even halt the progress of the poison enough that further treatment could occur.
“Additionally,” I add, and part of me wonders why Dane is just letting me talk so much, “I didn’t want a stop-gap measure. I want an antidote. And, so, I’ve developed a possible formula. Unfortunately, we’ll have no idea if it actually works until someone is poisoned… and I don’t think any of us would want to try that.”
“Warwick would,” Dane says after a moment, eyeing me.
I can’t help but laugh.
“One of the reasons that I’m really glad that he isn’t here,” she says.
“Warwick said you might need help,” Dane points out, glancing at my equipment. “But I’m afraid I understood very little of what you just told me.”
“That’s normal,” I say with a grin. “I don’t think Warwick understands it, either. I tell him I need his help because he likes to feel useful, but then he just stands there and listens to me talk, and fetches me coffee if I need it. You really don’t need to be here, if you have anything else to do.”
I honestly thought Dane would take the out. But, instead, he pauses. There’s an odd, considering look in his eyes, and his expression isn’t as frosty as I’m used to.
“No,” he finally says, stepping forward and sitting in the armchair. “Let me know if you want coffee. In the meantime, I’m interested to hear more.”
I blink. Did I just make progress without meaning to? Perhaps, on hearing how hard I’ve worked on this, some of his attitude actually started to thaw.
“Right,” I say, and shake myself enough to smile at him. “Just stop me if I start to ramble too much. Now, where was I…”
I had thought I would eventually drive Dane away, but he ended up staying until the afternoon, and helped me do my chores. When I asked him about his farm, he replied that he and Warwick did a majority of their chores last night, and that Warwick had fed the animals that morning.
Despite being cooped up all afternoon, listening to me talking about animals, he seemed more than happy to stay a little longer. I’m pleased, because he’s been a little less stiff. I’m almost sorry when he straightens and says he has to go.
“Thanks for coming by and helping,” I say.
“It’s okay,” he says. He glances at me. “I didn’t have to, but part of me is curious about what Warwick sees in you. I think I’m starting to get an idea. There’s something interesting about you, and I’m not surprised Warwick couldn’t resist.”
He walks away before I, taken aback by his words, can reply. I close my front door and frown. What did he mean by that?
Not wanting him to catch me watching, I sidle to one of the front facing windows and watch as he trudges down the long driveway. Dane is definitely curious. Though I’m happy that I’ll be able to tell Warwick that Dane and I got along today. Who knows? Maybe, one day, Dane and I will even manage to be friends.
It’s as I’m smiling at that thought, that it happens.
Dane reaches the road, which was as quiet as always. As he steps onto it, however, prepared to cross, a black car screeches out of nowhere, barreling toward him. Shocked, Dane leaps backward in a bid to not be hit, but the car skids to a half right beside him and a door opens. Arms reach out and pull him inside; Dane too surprised by what’s happening to resist. Then the door closes and the car speeds away.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. I blink, trying to process what just happened. Dane was there, and now he’s not, taken away by a mysterious car.
Then it hits me. Dane was just kidnapped right in front of me.
“Fuck.”