by Isobel Hart
I also knew, from what I’d read, that I’d passed the first trimester purely from my symptoms. The nausea and vomiting had eased, and I felt well. Good, even. My thicker hair was shinier than before. I’d mentally calculated the date of my last period – excluding the light bleed I’d had just after I’d taken the morning-after pill, which, from what I’d read, was probably caused by the embryo attaching itself to the wall of my womb – and calculated I must be about fourteen weeks. The thought amazed me. At my lowest, I blamed Edward for the fact his child had held on in there despite my best efforts to prevent it. At other times, I felt what could only be described as maternal affection for my bean.
“Time for another scan,” Dr Nichols announced arriving unexpectedly in my room one morning.
“Where’s Edward?”
“How sweet! Do you think Daddy should be at the appointment with you? He’s probably off fucking one of the other women, trying to get another one of you up the duff.”
You don’t care, think of Elliott, I told myself, trying to ignore the surge of bitter jealousy.
“Come on,” he said, leading me out of my bedroom and back along the corridor towards the examination room. A woman stepped out of her room and stopped in surprise when she saw me.
“Oh, hi,” she said with a big smile. “Are you new? Welcome. I’m Tara. I hope you’ll come and meet everyone when you’ve finished with Dr Nichols. When did you arrive?”
“Oh, about six weeks ago.” Dr Nichols tried to pull me along, but I dug my heels in, sensing an opportunity.
“Goodness, how come we’ve not seen you before?”
“They’ve kept me locked up.”
She raised her eyebrows, looking to Dr Nichols for an explanation.
“She’s pregnant,” he said.
Her face transformed into a massive grin. “Oh, how marvellous. That’s just wonderful. You clever thing. No one else is having much luck in that department. No wonder, you must have been feeling dreadful. Have you been resting?”
“Not now, Tara. Samantha needs to have her check-up. She’ll be out later if she’s feeling up to it.”
“Oh, great. I can’t wait. I want to know all about it. They all will. They’re going to be so jealous of you. Especially Ella,” she said with another grin. “Oh, I can’t wait. I’ll see you later. I’ll come and find you afterwards.” There was no stopping the woman. I said a small prayer of thanks to whoever was looking out for me. This might be my chance to get word to someone outside of here.
“Great, I’ll see you later,” I agreed before Dr Nichols could stop me. Then I allowed him to pull me into the examination room.
Chapter 24
“That was really most inconvenient of you, Samantha. Richard will be very displeased,” he said, as he closed the door behind us.
“I don’t give a shit.”
He sighed. “Climb onto the bed.”
I obliged without argument, but only because I wanted to see my bean again. He didn’t wait for me to lift my robe, pushing it up himself before reaching quickly for the gel and then the probe. “Good,” he breathed when my bean’s staccato heartbeat filled the room. He clicked on the image on the screen, taking measurements, before sitting back, looking pleased. “Definitely out of the first trimester. I’d say you’re just over fourteen weeks.” His view matched my own. I smiled. “You’re a remarkable woman, Samantha,” he breathed. “Take your robe off.”
“Why?”
“I need to check you’re changing as you need to.”
“I don’t think you do.” I said, arms crossed tight over my chest. “I’ve read about doctors like you. The kind who need to cop a feel of a woman’s breasts when they’ve gone to see you with a sore throat. This is bullshit. Keep your filthy paws to yourself.”
Irritated, he grabbed the neck of my robe and pulled sharply, but I anticipated the move and kept a tight grip of my own. The cotton garment tore in half, exposing my body to him. I grabbed at the pieces, holding them together to protect my modesty. I was damned if I wanted the pervert to see my unprotected breasts.
“Fuck off!” I shouted, jumping off the bed. “Fuck you!” He came towards me, and I immediately fell into a fighting stance, winding him with a sharp kick to the abdomen before I finished it with a knee to his groin. He crumpled to the floor with a groan.
“What’s going on in here?” Richard demanded from behind me. I turned, poised to attack again, until I saw the hulking nurse with him.
“Your perverted doctor fancied a grope of the goods. I wasn’t in the mood.” I pulled the torn parts of my robe together with as much dignity as I could muster.
“Andrew, we talked about this. She’s not yours, at least not whilst she’s pregnant. You need to control yourself better than that. Get out of here,” Richard said, his tone disapproving. “Recover yourself, then we’ll talk about this again.”
Dr Nichols stood slowly, a wince suggesting he was still in some pain, and limped his way towards the door, scowling at me as he passed. He paused in the doorway. “One of the girls – Tara – saw her earlier, when I brought her in here. They expect her to join them this evening. I told them she was pregnant which was why she wasn’t with them yet. Tara was excited. I’m sorry.”
Richard scowled. “You should have waited for us, Andrew. We could have avoided all this fuss completely. Still, no matter. She’d have had to join them at some point. How many weeks is she?”
“Fourteen based on my measurements.”
“Good, good. That’s excellent. The news is breaking tonight anyway. I’d planned to talk to the women myself before the report went out. Aiden is being interviewed in America at six pm Eastern Time. Ask the guards to prepare the cells for any troublemakers,” he said to the nurse. He looked at me. “She can join us after we’ve broken the news. I’ll do it at dinner. Make sure she has some clothes to wear and we can bring her out afterwards. It’ll be a good distraction from the information. Tell the local networks we need a cohort here tonight. Security too, in case we have trouble.”
My heart thumped. This was it. The news was breaking; people would know what walked amongst them. People would know I wasn’t mad, that they were different – that we had been infected, or invaded, for want of a better word. I would be released because they would know I wasn’t what they’d painted me as. Hope sparked inside me, until it was doused with the realisation, equally swift, that these men would never just let me walk away now. Not with the baby inside me. I was too important to the next step of their plans. I needed to get away. Being allowed out of the room was the first step to being able to escape.
I permitted them to lead me back to my room, determined to plan. Clothes were delivered shortly after with instructions from Richard to make myself presentable. I duly showered and dressed in the skirt and blouse provided, the elastic waist making space for my expanding waistline even though I had yet to produce an actual bump.
At around half past six they led me from my room and told me to wait with the nurse in the kitchen. People chatted in the other room, male and female voices, their conversation interspersed with giggles. The sound of women flirting; I recognised it only too well. I wondered if they would feel as flirtatious once they knew they were flirting with dead men.
“Ladies,” Richard began, his tone authoritative, so different from the man he’d once been. “Ladies,” he said again, pausing until the crowd quieted and the giggles ceased. “Thank you for your attention. I wanted to speak to you tonight before our meal and evening activities.” One of the girls giggled. “I have important news to share. Two pieces, in fact. Tonight, one of our brethren in America is being interviewed on television. Many of you are aware of the discussion in the media about the new virus–”
I realised with a jolt the news was already out there, which begged the question: why had no one come for me? Did anyone even know where I was? Did anyone care? Where was Elliott? Had they got him?
Richard was still speaking. “Tonight, Aiden will lay
out the real facts. That our people are indeed the product of the virus.” Someone gasped, but Richard ignored it. “Naturally, people will fear what they don’t understand. You, who know us best of all, know we’re a loving people, men who only wish to cherish the women in our lives, women like you who come to us willingly. We’re not violent.” Liar, I wanted to scream, but I held my tongue. “We’re a natural continuation of the human species, and together – with you – we’ll make it even more able to survive in this world. Survival of the fittest, evolution, these are concepts Darwin taught you. We’re the living embodiment of that idea.”
“But they said on the news you came from people that died. Are you dead people?” a woman asked. I thought it might be Tara; she sounded a little afraid.
Richard laughed, but it held an edge. “Do I look like a dead person?” He laughed again, the group joining in this time. Reassured. “And now onto my second piece of news. Samantha, please join us.” The man behind me shoved me in the back and I stumbled into the dining room where more than thirty people were seated around an enormous table. The male-to-female ratio equal. “Tara, I believe you met our lovely Samantha earlier?”
Tara, seated near Richard, nodded and smiled at me.
“Well, today we’re pleased to announce that Samantha is fourteen weeks pregnant.” There were gasps, a far greater gasp than the one that had met his announcement about the virus. A woman of around my age stood and stared at me with a look of desolation – she must have lost her own child, because nothing else could have prompted such a reaction – before she wailed and then turned and ran from the room. “Phillip, follow her,” Richard said to the man who’d been seated beside her. He stood and left the room.
The rest of the table occupants stared at me; the men with lust, the women with undisguised jealousy. “Samantha gives us hope for the start of our new future. She gives us hope for what we’ll become together and reminds us how important our time together is. My people . . .” He sounded exactly like the cult leader he pretended to be. “. . . let’s eat now, and then we’ll celebrate, giving thanks for the new future that’s been shown to us. Samantha, join me,” he said, patting an empty chair beside him. I moved to the seat as requested, scanning the faces in the room as I sat. There was no sign of Edward.
“Who did you sleep with?” the woman on the other side of Richard asked. By the very fact she’d sat beside him, this woman thought herself important. I’d clearly put her nose out of joint by falling pregnant before her.
“You must be Ella?” I guessed. Tara smiled from behind the napkin she held to her mouth, but I deliberately didn’t look at her.
“How did you know?”
“Just a guess. You’re very beautiful, it was easy to work out.” I pandered to her ego, hoping she’d back off.
“You didn’t answer. Who did you sleep with?”
“Me,” Edward said, walking into the room. He came straight up to my chair, bent down and kissed me on the forehead. Several women sighed at the gesture. “Move,” he said to the man beside me, who scowled up at him, but still stood and relocated to one of the earlier vacated seats.
In unison, the men rose and collected trays of food from heated plates at the side of the room. They then started to serve the women still seated at the table.
“Will you spend the night with me tonight, Edward?” Ella asked, leaning forward suggestively, her breasts threatening to spill out of her top. He looked at her and frowned, but said nothing, as he stood and collected a tray laden with slices of roast beef. He placed two slices on my plate, then two on hers. He returned twice more with green vegetables and potatoes, until a plateful of food sat in front of me. On each occasion he served me first, and then Ella.
She smiled up at him every time he looked at her, making an obvious attempt to garner some attention. I wanted to tell her she was welcome to him.
Richard never moved from his seat, seemingly amused by the whole performance, a smug expression on his face.
“I’m spending the night with Samantha tonight, Ella. Another time, perhaps?” Edward said finally, taking his seat beside mine and picking up his knife and fork.
“And me,” several other women around the table called. Clearly his ability to make me pregnant was enough to class him as highly desirable in the eyes of the other women. I sat with a rod-like posture as every woman at the table, except for Tara, propositioned him. I tried to convince myself I didn’t care; after all, this was the Edward I was more accustomed to. You’d have thought I’d have been used to it by now, this Edward was easy to hate.
“Why her?” Ella said, cutting into my thoughts. “She’s already pregnant. Why waste yourself on her? You should share yourself around and sleep with someone else. That’s what you taught us.” She looked at Richard for support. He nodded.
Edward frowned at them. A muscle flickered in his jaw, a sure sign of his irritation. “I’ll sleep with whomever I please, thank you Ella. It’s not your place to tell me what to do. This child is a blessing; I want to make sure it knows it’s loved and precious to me – to all of us. The act of loving the child we’ve created is as important as the act of conceiving the child. You should know better.” He glared at her. “All our children are precious, a blessing, but especially this one – my first. Our first.” He looked at me with a soft expression.
Ella fumed at being so publicly put in her place. I knew there was no chance we’d ever be friends now, not that there had been much of a chance before.
“You should fuck her,” I whispered to Edward, as we tucked into the meal.
“I should fuck you,” he parried, his gaze heated.
“No, you really shouldn’t. Not ever again.”
“I have fucked her,” Edward said, his eyes fixed on mine, looking for my reaction. “I’ve fucked all these women, many times. It’s my duty.”
I flinched despite myself. Despite Elliott. It still hurt, even after everything. He still knew how to hurt me. I looked away.
“But none of them . . .” He grabbed my chin so that I was forced to look at his face. “. . . none of them gave me what you did. None of them made me feel the way you made me feel. None of them made me come like you made me come. Most of the time I have to think of you to be able to finish with the others.” He spoke quietly, our bodies close together, my chest heaving as we stared at one another. I needed to clear my head of the effect he had over me.
I pushed my chair away from the table and stood, grabbing my plate. “I’m tired, I think I’ll eat in my bedroom. I’ll be out later to watch the interview,” I said to Richard, uncaring that it would be the middle of the night for us. I needed to see what the media were saying and how their leader would persuade people that the prospect of this genetic blending wasn’t cause for concern. Richard grunted, shovelling another forkful of food into his mouth.
I marched off in the direction of my room, the sound of a second chair scraping across the floor warning me I was being followed. I slammed the bedroom door closed behind me, placing my plate down on the small table beside the chair at the window, as the door open again. I swung round to see Edward striding towards me, as I’d known I would. Without a word, he pulled me against him and kissed me.
For a second I let him, then I remembered who he was – and who he wasn’t – how he’d tried to throttle me with the same hands now cupping my face. My hand swung round and cracked him hard against his cheek.
He pulled away and smiled. “I love your fierceness, Sam. I hope our child has that quality.” He placed his hand against my lower abdomen, I pushed it away. “Richard said you had another scan today. You’re fourteen weeks?”
“Yes, I had a scan. Yes, I’m fourteen weeks. And then your doctor tried to sexually assault me.”
“He what?” Edward exploded. I took a step back in the face of his immediate, incendiary rage.
“He tore my robe and tried to grope me. It was only because Richard arrived he stopped.”
“Excuse me,” Edward said
, stepping back before he turned and slammed back out of the room. Shouting followed.
I didn’t care.
I sat and ate the meal I’d brought back to the room with me, for once grateful to be alone. The beef tasted good, tender and succulent. I wolfed it down. It was the first meal I’d enjoyed so much in weeks. Months, even.
Finished, I leant back and enjoyed the sensation of fullness, my hands drifting to rest on my belly. Satisfaction suffused my body. Despite the absence of a bump, now I knew what I was looking for I could sense the changes happening to me. My breasts were noticeably larger. I wondered who it would most resemble – Edward or me. I hoped it would have Edward’s looks if it was a boy.
Irritated, I put a stop to that line of thought. It continually surprised me I even considered the baby in that way. I should hate it, hate everything it represented. Instead, I found myself protective, despite its origins. I thought about Heidi, wondering what she would say if she knew. I imagined the hurt my having a baby would cause her if she weren’t pregnant herself. The thought depressed me. I shook it off, determined to focus on the bigger picture. The interview.
Chapter 25
I sat in the armchair and willed the hands on the clock to move quicker. They didn’t. More than once my eyes drifted closed, jerking open again when my head rolled and jolted me back into consciousness. The soporific effects of my early pregnancy combined with a full stomach were taking their toll.
