Body Parts

by Adrianna Dane

  Her name was something he would need to change. Although Korrie’s mind, her brain, was female, her body was not. And whoever awoke would not understand. In fact, Korrie was no longer Korrie and he would have to come to terms with that as well.

  If he had never opened the estate to inspection by the institute, none of this would have happened. The house would still be standing, and his life would have continued on as it had always done.

  He reached the edge of the forest and slowly looked up at the place where the house had once stood, and a blackened skeleton now remained, smoke curling into the sky. Today, the sun was concealed by darkened clouds threatening rain.

  “Athan. Oh, thank goodness.” Mrs. Grippen hurried toward him. “I was afraid ‑‑” She began to cry and quickly dashed the tears away with the back of her hand. He had never seen her cry, not even the night when her husband died. She had always been the stoic force of the estate remaining low-key and patient, quiet, yet keeping them all organized.

  He put an arm around her. “I’m fine. I wasn’t in the house.”

  She sniffled again. “That poor Dr. Odell. How terrible.” She looked up at Athan. “She was special, wasn’t she, Athan? I’m so sorry.”

  “We’ll be all right.” He turned to face her and clasped both her hands. “I need your help,” he said solemnly.

  “Of course. But, how?”

  “At the cottage.” They had never conversed outright about the things that had happened in the house, the experiments that the Ransoms had undertaken, or the deaths that fateful night. He saw it in her eyes that she knew he was different, a part of what had gone before.

  And he saw that she understood now that more was going on here than he was saying. Slowly, she nodded her head. Her fingers tightened on his. “Tell me what you need.”

  “For now, just go to the house and as soon as I talk with the people here and do what needs to be done, I’ll come.” She started to turn away, but he drew her back. “No one gets in. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Athan, but you’re scaring me.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I just don’t want anyone in the house while I’m not there. I need your help. You know I couldn’t do without you.”

  He saw her lips tremble and she reached up to cup his jaw. “Athan, you’re like a son to me. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll help you.”

  He squeezed her cold hands one last time and released her. “There’s a driveway and you should be able to get there from here without too much trouble. I’ll meet you at the house later.”

  She nodded. “The men you need to talk with are standing on the other side of what’s left of the house. The sheriff is there, as well as the fire chief and another man I didn’t recognize.”

  “Thank you. Did they question you?”

  “Yes. I think they’re done with me. They were looking for you, so I’m glad you came. They’ll want to talk with you. We all thought at first that you might have been in the house. I think they sent someone over to the cottage, but no one answered.”

  “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

  “You’re all right, Athan, aren’t you? I think something terrible must have happened in that house last night.” He saw the shadows of memories in her eyes. She was obviously remembering the devastating night of that other fire and the people whose lives were lost there and what she had helped him to do to keep the secrets that resided there.

  “I’ll talk with you later,” he assured her quietly. He watched her as she slowly made her way to her car and got in. He was going to have to tell her the truth about last night. He needed her help. Korrie would need her help.

  Now he was going to have to deal with all the questions about the fire. There were blank spots in his memory from the night before. Huge blanks. Like he didn’t remember what happened to Korrie’s body, or how he’d disposed of the rest of that night’s work.

  He looked back up at the burnt wreckage. Dr. Cornelius’s tower, though blackened, still remained, and the rest of the house lay in carnage around it. It reminded him of the people, those who were buried on Heartbreak Hill, all because Dr. Cornelius sought immortality to the point of insanity.

  He turned away, unable to look at it any longer. He would talk to the sheriff, and to the others, and give them the answers they needed to end this.

  Athan moved toward the huddle of men he saw standing across from him at the other side of the house. Among them, he recognized Sheriff Kirby, the local law enforcement for Fall’s Creek, and Fire Chief Jackson. They’d had a nodding acquaintance over the years in passing time at the local pub. They were local people and there was silent understanding between them. The other people with them, he didn’t know.

  Sheriff Kirby nodded to him as he drew closer. “Athan. Terrible thing here.”

  “Yes. Have you determined how it started?”

  “We tried to reach you, but you weren’t home.” There was a question in the statement from Chief Jackson.

  “No, it was one of the few times I was away. I had an errand to run.”

  Chief Jackson studied him closely. “Do you know if anyone was in the house? Your housekeeper thought there was a doctor” ‑‑ he looked down at his notepad ‑‑ “by the name of Korrie Odell who might have been inside.”

  Athan tried not to wince at the name, remembering how he had last seen her. “Yes, I believe she was.”

  “We found a car parked outside the gate,” Sheriff Kirby inserted. “Registered to Paul Cathcart.” He turned to two of the men that Athan didn’t know. “This is Investigator Smith and Dr. Carter. They came in from the city. Apparently this Cathcart guy was wanted for questioning in a murder. Had you seen him around?”

  “No,” he lied. “Dr. Cathcart was here before Dr. Odell arrived, but I understood he’d returned to the Morgan Institute.”

  “He did,” the man named Carter said. “We’re worried that he might have come back here to do harm to Dr. Odell.” He turned to look at the charred and smoking remains of the house. “He might have blamed her for some of his misfortune back at the institute. We believe he finally cracked and just went over the edge.”

  “Dr. Odell seemed like a very nice lady. I would hate to think something terrible had happened to her.” He tried to keep his voice noncommittal, tried not to show the emotions that surged inside him.

  “If you can think of anything that might help, let us know,” Sheriff Kirby said. “Chief Jackson will inform you what he finds out after their investigation.” Kirby pinned him with a hard look. “Anything else you think you might be able tell us?”

  “No, nothing at all. I didn’t know either Dr. Odell or Dr. Cathcart very well. The estate trustees allowed them to come here to see if they could locate the research done by the Ransoms. I don’t know if they were successful.”

  “Sad state of affairs.” Sheriff Kirby turned and looked at the burned out rubble. “That house was quite the showpiece of this town. Amazing architecture. Just too damned bad.” He turned back and clapped a hand on Athan’s shoulder. “You going to be all right?”

  Athan nodded. “I’ll be fine. You know where to find me if you need anything else.”

  “Yes. We’ll keep you advised of what we discover. We’ll let the trustees know as well. Someone from my office called them this morning to let them know.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff. I appreciate your help with this.”

  “If you need anything you let us know.” His eyes held that hint of knowledge that no one spoke of. “You’re one of our own, boy, and we’ll take care of you.”

  It had always been that way in Fall’s Creek. It often had the feeling of a closed community with its little secrets that no one talked about with outsiders. Not even when it came to something as horrible as this. No one, not even the sheriff or the chief, would share what they might or might not know about Athan and the Ransoms. That was just the way it was here in their little town.

  Athan turned and headed back to the cottage. He di
dn’t want to be away too long.

  As he entered through the front, making a note that he needed to fix the broken door, he could smell the scent of fragrant fresh coffee. He walked into the kitchen and found Mrs. Grippen already at work, bacon frying and the cinnamon scent of sweet rolls in the oven.

  She turned to look at him. “I thought you might like some breakfast.” She leaned down to pull the tray out of the oven and set it on the counter. “You know,” she said as she scooped each roll from the baking sheet, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this house before. There was never any need.”

  Once all the rolls were on the plate she carried them to the table. “Sit down and have something to eat.” She poured him a cup of coffee and brought him a plate from the stove. Then she took the chair across from him and set a cup of coffee in front of her on the table.

  “Talk to me, Athan. Tell me why I’m here. What you need me to do.” And more quietly, “What went on here?”

  He didn’t have any choice and slowly, in a low voice he related the horror of the night before. As much as he could remember. When he was done, she looked at him across the table and was silent for a long time. She lifted her cup and took a sip, then set it back down. Her hand trembled and the cup clattered against the saucer.

  He saw her lips tighten and determination set in her shoulders. “You know, Athan, we’ve been through a lot over the years in this place. Seen and done some things we’d rather forget.” She looked at him. “But I don’t think there’s one of us who would ever do anything to harm you.” She shook her head. “There’s something about you, Athan, that draws people. You’ve got the magic. I can’t explain it. But the whole town feels it. I’ll help you. And I don’t scare easy.”

  He reached across the table and gripped her hand. “I’ve always thought you were a good woman, ma’am.”

  “I think you can call me Karen. It’s past time.”

  “Karen, it means a great deal to me to be able to depend on you.”

  Her fingers squeezed his. “You can always do that. For as long as I draw breath, your secrets are safe with me.” She pulled her hand away and rose from the table. “Now, go do what you need to do. And let me handle things here.”

  He got up and carried his dishes to the sink. “Thanks,” was all he said and then he went to the place where he needed to be. Where he would stay until Korrie opened her eyes.

  It was several days later that he walked into the lab and crossed to the bedroom on the other side, immediately checking to make sure everything was as it should be. Mrs. Grippen never asked questions, but took it upon herself to make sure he stayed fed. He knew eventually he would have to indoctrinate Mrs. Grippen into what needed to be done as the need arose. For now he just sat back down in the chair and reached for Korrie’s hand. Since the night of the fire he hadn’t left the lab for more than an hour at a time.

  The hand in his grasp was warm, slightly smaller than his own, but pliant with life. He was intimately familiar with the body of the man, had fallen in love with the mind of the woman. Who was the person who would emerge?

  Right now, all that mattered was that she lived. He’d need to think of a name. “Korrie” would be too obvious for anyone who might have a connection with the institute, and he couldn’t take that chance. He studied the young man who lay in the bed for a long time. He had to start thinking of Korrie as he.

  The fingers jerked against his palm, and Athan’s heart seemed to thunder in his chest. He looked at Korrie closely, saw the eyelids flutter and then slowly rise. He held his breath and remained silent. Watching.

  He looked around the room, licked his lips, and then his gaze turned to Athan. His eyes widened. Athan saw intelligence shining from them.

  “Where…am…I?” he asked in halting words. The voice was neither Korrie’s nor Paul’s, but a blend of sound that was intriguing to Athan. Haunting in some ways.

  The eyes were different as well, swirling confusion in their depths. “You’re safe,” Athan answered and squeezed his hand. “You’ve been in an accident and you are healing.”

  His eyebrows drew together as though trying to figure something out. He raised a hand to his head and his fingers traced over the thickly swathed bandages, then dropped back onto the covers.

  “I don’t remember.” He looked at Athan. “You seem familiar.” He frowned. “But I don’t know you. Do I?”

  “You need to rest. It’s going to take time for you to heal.”

  “I don’t know my name. Who am I?”

  Athan studied him for a long time. The fresh, new look of him. This new creation from broken bodies and minds. Just like him, yet different. This was how he had begun. Confusion and pain.

  “Your name is Bellamy. Bellamy Andrews.”

  He seemed to roll the name over in his mind, trying to place it. “Bellamy. I don’t remember. It doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “You need to rest. Everything will come together for you in good time. Trust me.”

  There was a quiver of a smile that rose to his lips. “Something tells me I always did.”

  Bellamy. It meant beautiful friend. Everything would be all right.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I want to get up. I’ve had enough of this.” Bell stared up at Athan mutinously.

  Athan noted that he was stronger and his mind had become sharper. He still had a lot of questions and there were moments when a flash of some fleeting memory would draw something to the forefront of his mind.

  “Soon. I don’t think you’re strong enough yet.”

  “That’s not true. It’s been three months and this is getting old. My hair’s growing back, the scars are almost completely healed ‑‑ you said so yourself.

  He was right. His hair was growing, and the color was both odd and beautiful. Pure white with streaks of golden caramel. When the light struck it just right it seemed to shoot off sparks. The angles of his face were different from those of Paul’s as well. No one would have recognized this man as ever having been a part of Paul Cathcart. It was sharply defined angles of shadowy perfection with deep set, haunting eyes the color of an early evening sky in autumn. There was still a certain fragility about him, although he looked well enough, considering what he’d been through. And truthfully, because of the change in his looks, no one would question that he might have some slight similarity to a man that had been pronounced dead in the fire.

  Fire Chief Jackson had called last week to give him the final word. With the remains they found among the rubble, the conclusion had been that Korrie Odell and Paul Cathcart had perished in the fire. They found a spent bullet near Korrie, but very little of Paul’s remains were discovered. They could only assume that Paul had killed Korrie and then started the fire to cover up what he had done. They also found a gun that had been registered in Paul’s name. For some reason, he hadn’t been able to make it out of the house and was also consumed by the blaze. The case was closed.

  But Athan still worried. He still needed to explain Bellamy’s sudden appearance. Karen assured him the townspeople wouldn’t ask questions. They never had, about anything that occurred at the Ransom place. That was just the way it was. If only he could be as certain as she was. Nothing must hurt Bellamy. Athan felt it was his job to protect him, just as the Ransoms had done for him. They had created him, and he had created Bellamy.

  “We can’t take a chance. Not just yet.”

  “Dammit, Athan. You can’t keep trying to protect me like this…or hide me away.” He leaned forward. “You have to teach me how to survive. You gave me Sheba Ransom’s journal to read for a reason. You told me about what happened ‑‑ how I came to be here.”

  Bell reached for Athan’s hand and looked up into his eyes. Athan had found Dr. Sheba’s journal and the disks and notebooks in the pocket of Paul’s coat. Bell had a right to know how this had all come about. He couldn’t keep the secrets because one day he’d discover the answers on his own.

  Damn, but he wanted to take Bell and
fuck him right now. The waiting was as trying for him as it was for Bellamy. But he couldn’t take any chances. “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand very well, but Athan you made me. You wanted me to live. You have to let me do so. I want to be strong enough to be with you. Is it that I’m not really this Korrie Odell and you don’t want me, the way you thought you would? Or do you see Paul Cathcart, the man who killed her? Talk to me so I understand.” He dropped back against the pillows.

  Athan looked at him, the wires that fed him the electricity for basic survival. The IVs were gone, the bandages were gone, and he was healing well. He neither looked nor talked like Korrie or Paul. He was Bellamy. Someone wholly different and someone that Athan found disturbingly appealing.

  “I know you go to the town after you think I’m asleep. Do you think I don’t know what you do there? Am I ugly to you, Athan? Are you repulsed by me?”

  Athan shot to his feet and stalked across the room, away from the bed. “Let me think about it, okay?” He whirled around. “Don’t you understand I can’t lose you? I know you’re not Korrie, nor are you Paul. But you’re important. The woman I loved is a part of you, and although I see pieces of her in you, I don’t want to take a chance on Bellamy Andrews dying. I can’t go through that again. And I don’t want to be alone ‑‑ not any longer.”

  Bellamy leaned back and sighed, a smile spreading across his face. Athan thought it might be the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “All right then.” He patted the side of the bed. “Come sit with me and tell me more of the history of this place.”

  Athan walked over to the bed and Bell looked up at him. “Sit next to me.” Athan started to sit on the edge of the bed. “No, not there.” He shifted to the side. “Sit here, beside me.”

  Athan’s breath ceased as he looked at the spot where Bellamy wanted him to sit, so close, stretched out beside him. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “I think it’s the best idea. I’m well, Athan, and I want to feel you next to me. The only thing I’m waiting on is for you to give the okay for the first treatment. I’m ready, you’re not.”