EVOLVED

by Jessica Gomez

  Azami came back to our room after that first night. She cried herself to sleep, wanting her mother to tuck her in. She’s just turned four, but much smarter than her years, she understands. Each night she slides under the blankets and her little sobs start. I pull her to me the best I can and hum, like I remember my mother doing when I was little. She quiets down a short time after and falls asleep, her breaths huffing every so often from her crying.

  Now, almost four days have passed and I’m still as helpless as the first day they drug me in here. Michael’s warned me not to rush the healing process, that moving around would only hinder my healing and force an even longer delay. The snow finally stopped falling yesterday, leaving us with about four feet.

  It’s late afternoon on the fourth day when Luke and Mason enter my room, both wearing a determined look. I know they’ve got something up their sleeves before they speak. I use my elbows to sit up the best I can, excitement filling my stomach. They could have news about Lillie.

  “What’s going on?” I demand.

  “We’re going to search for her,” Mason states, matter-of-fact.

  I adjust, as if I’m going to stand. Mason and Luke both move to stop me, but the pain in the action stops me in my tracks before they can intervene.

  “You’re not coming.” Luke props my pillows up again.

  I lean back, out of breath from the small movement, sweat popping up on my forehead from the excursion. “Dammit!” I growl. I can’t even throw a proper fit because I can’t move well enough to do it.

  “We got this. Let us help. You focus on getting better so when we bring her back, you don’t look like a complete mess.” Luke chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

  I’m in no mood to joke. I want to find my girl and bring her home. She’ll never leave my sight again. “What’s the plan?” I groan out, still not accepting my disability. “James said there’s a few feet of snow out there. Do you all have the right equipment? I don’t want this—” I hold my hands up for their inspections “—to happen to you two. I was irresponsible for staying out the way I did, and now it’s going to take me longer to find her.” Guilt eats at my gut.

  “That’s why we’re here. Now, tell us where you searched, and don’t leave anything out.” Mason’s tone is all business.

  I go over every detail of my search. There were times of depravation, but I remember this area like the back of my hand and scoured every inch. When I relay the end, I pause, remembering my dream, where Lillie was telling me to go home.

  “What is it?” Luke probes.

  “I passed out against a tree right before I headed back. I fell into a dream with Lil.” They both perk up, knowing her dreams tend to have meaning. “She was in front of a large fire, on a bed made of straw and brush. She was sleeping when I first saw her, but then she woke up. She smiled at me, then became confused. She asked me why I was in the snow, and I told her I was looking for her. She suddenly seemed to understand and yelled at me to go home.” They give me time to collect myself, sensing that I’m not finished. “She could see me in the snow, out searching for her, and I could see her. I think I was seeing where they’d taken her. The background is a blur, but she was inside with a fire. She didn’t appear harmed.” The statement has us all breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Do you think she’s in a house or another cave system?” Luke asks.

  “I don’t think she’s in a house. The material of her bed was mostly straw and leaves. Plus, a fire lit the background. Everything around that was blurry. I checked all the caves that surround ours and didn’t find anything. They could’ve taken her farther. Jeff started to carry her after a while, and with their speed, they could be anywhere.”

  They sit back on their haunches, soaking in the information. Mason’s the first one to speak; he’s always believed there was something more to her dreams. “I think you’re right. It would make sense for you to see her where she sees herself, and for her to see you where you are. The gift is hers. She pulls you into her dreams, letting you see what she does.” He wipes his hand down his face. “This is insane,” he mumbles.

  Luke pipes in. “Think hard. Do you remember anything else?”

  After a moment of thought, I shake my head. “No. Her face was so clear and beautiful, but everything around her was blurred.” After I murmur the words, realization strikes. “The color. The image behind her is blurry, but it was one solid color, and it’s the same color as our cave walls. She’s in a cave somewhere.”

  Mason and Luke nod in unison.

  Mason’s the one that speaks up. “That’s a start. Everything you described helps with our search.”

  The conversation lags as we sit in silence for a while, all lost in our own thoughts. This search will rely on instinct alone since the snow buried their tracks. Luke is the best tracker we have, so hopefully he’ll pick up on another trail.

  James eventually comes to check on me, bringing Azami with him. Luke and Mason visit for a bit, but then excuse themselves to finish getting ready. James doesn’t look happy that he’s being excluded, brooding in silence. When they leave, I expect him to lay out his frustrations, but to my surprise, he remains silent about the issue and plays with Azami instead.

  He’s doing an excellent job at keeping her occupied. My injuries don’t allow for me to move, let alone take care of a four-year-old. I’d be an idiot if I thought Azami remained unaffected. She’s trying to busy her little mind just as much as us. Her normal lightheartedness is slipping to a quiet isolation. I close my eyes tight, pleading with everything I am that Lillie returns to us. To me. To our daughter. To James. All our cave family is somber, missing her, wishing for her return. Every second that ticks by clenches my heartstrings, begging for her homecoming.

  Chapter 4

  Lillie

  The next morning, I wake up to an almost empty cave. Most of the infected are no longer present, including Jeff. I glance around the room, hoping for an escape. There’re still three untamed infected in the back of the cave and one of the smarter ones that has a bed close to Jeff’s. They remain as babysitters.

  I study the man diagonal from me, who’s sitting coolly with his hands folded in his lap. He looks calm. How in the hell can he be this calm? Making these assessments while remaining motionless is hard, so I sit up slowly. The movement draws his eyes, but he remains as silent as the rest of the room. The bear hide falls to my waist, the room still warm from the fire. The humans remain still where they’re chained. The three infected in the back of the room are scuffling over something I can’t see, while the privileged infected lounges on his bed with his human.

  His human’s haggard appearance adds years to her life, her eyes empty and hollow. The nightmares she has surely endured aren’t anything I want to encounter. Two other humans, one man, one women, are curled up on their beds. Their skin is tight against their bones from lack of food. Dirty and tattered clothes hang from their bodies. The chains shackled to their ankles clank with movement, notifying any infected. The man I know as my savior remains on his bed, studying me, waiting for my next move. I can’t handle this anymore!

  “What the fuck is going on?” I cry out to him.

  His eyes round in shock and panic as he snaps his gaze to the infected perched on his bed. The infected snaps his head up, glaring at me, baring his teeth. He begins to move toward me, slowly and precisely, crouching like a predator.

  Pulling the bearskin up, I cover my mouth with it as he nears. When he comes within five feet of me, my savior steps in again, his chain barely stretching.

  “Leave her alone.” He’s not as scrawny as the other humans in the cave, but still half the size of the infected heading in my direction. “She doesn’t understand the rules.” He talks to the infected as if he’s normal and understands him.

  Rules? How do creatures such as these function with rules? There’s obviously a hierarchy in play, which is more sophisticated than I thought they’d ever become, but for them to form rules is unthinkable.
Understanding that my chances of remaining unharmed are better standing behind this other human, I stretch my chain’s length and inch behind the man, blocking the creature’s approach.

  The infected growls at my attempt to stay hidden, and without removing his eyes from mine, he pushes my savior out of the way with a flick of his wrist. He continues toward me as I scramble back against the cave wall. The infected snags my chain and begins to pull it toward him, effectively dragging me in his direction. There’s nothing to hang on to, as my already sore back scrapes against the ground.

  Once I’m in front of the infected, he drops the chain and leans down, getting into my face. His putrid breath brushes across my face, causing me to gag. There’s nothing I can do at this point. I can’t get away while chained. I’m weak and sore, but I won’t give up. Meeting him head-on, I stare him down, holding onto my stubbornness and determination. I will not submit.

  After what happened to the last infected that dared to touch me, I’d say Jeff wants me for himself, and wouldn’t appreciate others manhandling me. Witnessing their advancements firsthand, I take the chance and tell him exactly that, hoping he’ll understand.

  “Jeff’s coming back anytime, and when he does, I’m going to tell him that you’re bothering me.” I purposely glance over to the bloody drag marks that are all that’s left of the dead infected, making my point. “You’re not allowed to touch me or him.” I nod toward the man he shoved to the ground.

  The infected doesn’t flinch. Inside, I’m freaking out, screaming at myself to shut the hell up, to stop acting like I’m tough when I know I want to crumble. Somehow, my inner turmoil stays hidden, and I meet the infected with confidence. The man on the ground is watching us, waiting to see the outcome of this showdown.

  The infected doesn’t get the chance to reply, as a sound draws everyone’s attention to the cave’s entrance. Several infected enter, Jeff coming in last, carrying a bag over his shoulder. He stops in his tracks when he notices the scene before him. His neutral expression turns deadly as he marches toward us, purpose in his surprisingly steady gait.

  The infected that challenges me steps away swiftly, cowering in Jeff’s presence. Jeff stops in front of him, baring his teeth, as the infected grovels at his feet. After a moment of asserting his dominance, Jeff moves next to the human that attempted to help, glaring at him as well.

  “Don’t hurt him. He tried to help me.” Asking for his mercy seems pointless, but when he turns from the man and heads in my direction, hope clings to me.

  When he reaches me, he tosses his bag down and squats. He leans forward, intimidating me, but I hold my ground. He studies my reaction, looking me over, seeming concerned. He sniffs up my neck, nuzzling my hair, like an animal.

  “Hurt?” he grunts out.

  The one-word shocks me, giving my response a pause. I begin to shake my head, before speaking. “No. He didn’t touch me. That man over there helped.” I shift my gaze to the man who is now back on his bed, watching us with curiosity. “He said I didn’t know the rules. You have rules?” My mouth refuses to stay closed. Tempting my fate by talking to Jeff is not the best of ideas, but at this point, what did I have to lose? He’s different in some way. Before, his presence set me on edge, and now, he’s seemingly the only protection I have against the other infected.

  Jeff’s silent for a moment before answering. “No talk.”

  Of course. Everything went south when I spoke earlier for the first time. “No talking,” I mumble, and do exactly that.

  A sound that resembles a chuckle leaves Jeff’s lips. He shakes his head and turns back to his bag, pulling two large fish and a rabbit from the bundle and lays the bag at my feet, before plopping them down as an offering. He watches me for a moment, waiting for a reaction. When I don’t give him one, he huffs, and turns away to stoke the fire.

  I watch the others around the room as they remove fish from other bags. Where did they get these? The infected that huddle in the back of the cave lay one fish on each bed before returning to their pack and sharing the last few fish. Small scuffles break out, as they fight over their meal, but nothing gets out of hand. The humans on each bed take small glances at their infected eating, hoping for scraps. These people are starving.

  When Jeff’s done taking care of the fire, he sits to my right. I’m not sure what to do. Why’s he staring at me? At that thought, he leans forward and nudges the food closer. I stare at it for a moment before I meet his eyes. The red veins and midnight centers are distracting, but not violent.

  “Is this mine?”

  “Eat,” he says, pushing at the food again.

  When I fail to grab it, Jeff snags the fish, and flips out a knife at the same time. The action has me gasping and scooting back. Seconds later, I realize he’s only cutting the guts and head off the fish. I watch him amazed. He’s retained so much of his human side, it’s beginning to freak me out. He’s more functional than any infected I’ve come across. The infected that share the back of the cave are the ones I’m used to, less humane.

  Jeff finishes both fish within minutes, then works on the rabbit. He tears the hide from its furry little body and tosses it to the side, breaking one of its legs off before eating it. Bile rises up my throat before I can stop it. Jeff raises his head and studies me.

  He holds the legs out to me. “Eat.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t, it’s not cooked. It’ll make me sick.” Again, Jeff puzzles out my words. He works on instinct, so I’m hoping my demonstration will help him understand. “Fire.” I point and pick up one of the fish, slowly edging closer to the fire. I use one of the smaller rocks to push embers away from the flames and place the fish the best I can against the coals.

  When I turn back around, Jeff’s directly behind me. “Cook,” he states.

  I nod. He’s remembering a human trait. “Yes. I’m cooking before I eat so it doesn’t make me sick. I can cook yours too.” I wait a moment after my offer. When he continues to stare, I reach over and grab the rabbit and a larger stick. Skewering the rabbit onto the stick, I place it over the fire like a hotdog. Next to me, Jeff sticks the other fish into the fire, copying my actions. The only sound in the room is chewing and the metal of my chain clanking around, giving me only enough slack to reach the fire.

  He sits with me, watching as I turn the meat randomly. The other infected and humans are watching as well with curiosity written on most of their faces, disgust on others. The infected appear turned off by me cooking our food, while a couple of the humans stare at me with revulsion. Playing nice with an infected is not on their plate. However, this is my plan for escape. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Logically, I want to freak out, scream, and run from the room back into my family’s arms. But that can’t happen. I’m chained, weak, and have no idea where I’m being held. Using my smarts is my only option. Jeff’s unpredictable, but so far, he’s not harmed me. If playing nice gets me home, then that’s exactly what I plan to do.

  After a while, we’re not as much of a spectacle, and the infected return to their own business. Most of the humans are still watching us with distrust as they munch on their captor’s leftovers, picking the remnants of raw fish from their needlelike bones.

  When our meat’s done, I remove it from the fire and place it on the bag Jeff provided earlier. They’re hot as hell and I burn my finger. Jeff grunts and moves me out of the way as I suck on my offended finger. He takes over and rips a leg off the rabbit and a chunk off the fish, setting them in front of me.

  “Eat,” he instructs.

  I touch the food. “It’s still too hot.”

  He studies me closely before nodding and ripping a large bite out of the rabbit. He growls low after each bite, appreciating the meal, the blistering temperature having no affect.

  I break the silence again. “I’m thirsty. Is there water?”

  Jeff watches me for a moment before dropping his food and crossing the room, leaving through the mouth of the cave. I keep my ey
es on the doorway, wondering where he went. Moments later he’s back, setting a slab of bark down next to me. He’s placed snow on its surface for me to eat.

  I reach over and pinch the cold between my fingers and bring it to my mouth. The water, even in snow form, is bliss. The wetness coats my dry throat and mouth, feeling like heaven. The moan slips past my lips without my permission, showing my appreciation.

  Once the food cools enough for me to eat, I dig in, letting the tastes explode in my mouth. Even though I want to finish every bite, I can only eat half my meal. Jeff has finished the rest of the rabbit and half of the other fish, and now he’s leaning against a rock.

  Picking up the remaining food, I stand and move toward the man who has been taking it upon himself to help me. One step and Jeff is up, grasping my arm, growling next to my ear. I freeze, seconds from pissing my pants.

  “No.”

  The single word sends a chill racing up my spine. My bravado is slipping as my hands begin to shake. “Doesn’t he need to eat?” Pushing him isn’t the smartest thing to do, but I can’t allow the man next to me to starve.

  “No,” Jeff growls again, but his grip loosens.

  I attempt to bargain. “He belongs to you since you killed the other…guy.” I don’t know what they call themselves. “I’m not going to let him starve.”

  He moves swiftly and comes face-to-face with me. Pausing to gauge my startled reaction, he leans in and scents me. He does this quite often, and I’m unsure of its meaning. Eventually, he leans back and takes the items from my hands. His body language says he doesn’t like what he’s doing, as he tosses the food at the man’s feet.