by Amy Cross
Staring at me, with my blood on her chin, she seems totally stunned. It's as if she's got no idea how to respond.
"Are you scared?" I ask.
"No!" she spits back.
"Then you're a fool," I reply. "Do you really think I'm just gonna slap you around a little and then send you on your way?"
"You're nothing," she sneers. "You're just a fucking outcast who thinks she can scare other people, but you haven't got the guts." It's clear from the look in her eyes that she doesn't really believe what she's saying. In a way, it's kind of cute to see how she's trying to persuade herself that somehow she's going to get out of this situation. This is her last stand. "Fuck you," she continues eventually. "I'm getting out of here." With that, she gets to her feet and turns to walk away.
"You're not going anywhere," I say, grabbing her arm and pulling her back with such force that I feel her bone snap: in the palm of my hand, I feel her lower arm break cleanly in two. She screams in pain, and I'm so shocked by my own strength that I let go of her. She falls to the ground, clutching her arm.
"You fucking bitch!" she shouts, clearly in agony. "You broke my fucking arm!"
"I'll break more than that if you're not careful," I say, stunned by my own strength. "I'll break your god-damned neck if I don't like what I hear from you."
She screams in pain again.
"I thought I told you not to scream," I say. What the hell am I going to do with her in the morning if she won't be quiet? The last thing I need is for people to hear her. Sooner or later, someone's going to notice she's missing, and by then I need to have decided how this is going to end. Right now, I don't see any way I can let her go. I can't allow her to tell people that I did this to her. I reach out to shut her up, but suddenly I'm struck by the most intense pain I've ever felt in my life. It's as if someone has suddenly dropped hundreds of razor blades into my chest, slicing through my body. I drop to the ground. The pain is so powerful, I can barely breathe. Squeezing my eyes tight shut, I try to fight back, to find some way of overcoming the agony. Finally, I let out a scream as the razors fill my chest, and then - just as suddenly as the pain started - I start to feel my body relax again. Short of breath, I wait until the agony has completely gone. What the hell just happened?
Sweating from the intensity of the pain, I turn to look at Donna. She's staring at me, her eyes wide as she holds her broken arm.
"What are you looking at?" I ask, annoyed by her presence.
"Nothing," she says quickly. "I swear."
I smile, realizing that she's absolutely terrified of me. "I didn't mean to break your arm," I tell her.
She looks down at her hand. "I can't move it," she replies.
Holding up my own hand, I see that the damage from her bite has almost completely healed.
"What the fuck are you?" Donna asks, her voice trembling
"I don't know," I tell her. "I really, honestly don't know."
"My hand hurts," she whimpers.
"Don't try any more smart moves," I say, before pausing for a moment. "Do you want to know a secret, Donna?" I ask eventually. "Do you want to know what I am?"
She stares at me, her face filled with fear.
"Haven't you guessed yet?" I ask. Seeing that she has no idea, I smile. Gradually, I open my mouth more and more, until finally my fangs are showing and she Donna's face turns pale with fear. Now this is real power. I hiss at her, and she recoils in terror. "Okay," I say, "you know what? I don't really understand my limits yet." I pause for a moment. "My father would rip you to pieces," I tell her. "He'd kill you without a second thought. My mother... I think maybe she'd have helped you, and let you go." I smile. "The question is... Which of them am I more like?"
Shelley
Dedston.
"What are you going to do if you find her?" I ask, standing in the doorway and watching as Todd packs a set of tranquilizer darts into a case.
"Not if," he replies. "When."
"Fine," I continue. "What are you going to do when you find her?"
"We're going to help her," he says, closing the case. "She can't be left out there alone. She's not safe."
"And she'd be safer here, would she?" I ask. "If you go out there and find her, and knock her out with those darts, and drag her back here... She'll be safe?"
"We've been through this already, Shelley," he continues, apparently unable to look me directly in the eye. "There are creatures out there that would do anything to get their hands on Abby. To them, she's the ultimate prize. She's part of Patrick, and she's only going to get stronger and stronger. She has to be protected." He walks to the door, but I remain where I am, blocking his way.
"I get that," I reply. "I'm just not sure you're the ones who should be protecting her."
"Get out of my way," he says firmly.
"Why? So you can go shoot darts at a scared girl?"
"Fine," he replies. "I'll just stand here, and we'll let her stay out there, and someone or something else will find her instead. Is that what you want?" He pauses for a moment. "In case you've forgotten, there's also the problem of Patrick. He's out there too, and he'll be looking for her. Hell, we'll be lucky if he hasn't already found her. Do you really want Patrick to get his hands on her? Think about what that would be like. Think about what she'd become."
"He wouldn't hurt her," I say. "She's his daughter."
"Of course he wouldn't hurt her," he replies, "but he'd try to change her. He'd mold her. He'd make her become like him. Is that really what you want?"
I stare at him for a moment, before stepping aside and letting him out of the room. Following him along the corridor, I try to think of something I can say that might make him reconsider. While I understand his point about Patrick being unstable, I don't think the solution is to send a load of heavily-armed men after Abby. For one thing, I hate to think of how scared Abby must be right now; for another, I don't really trust Todd to make the right decision and I definitely don't trust his boss. If Abby comes back here, she'll be in just as much danger as she'd be with Patrick. In fact, right now, I can't think of a single place where she'd be safe.
"Wait!" I say, grabbing Todd's shoulder.
"I haven't got time to explain why you're wrong," he replies, not breaking his stride.
"Hang on!" I say, hurrying past him and blocking his way again. "I need to ask you one more question."
He sighs. "If you don't stop getting in my way," he says firmly, "I'll be forced to immobilize you. Is that what you want?"
"How well do you know Benjamin?" I ask, immediately seeing a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Todd, you blindly follow this guy, doing whatever he says, but what gives him the authority to make these decisions? Do you really think he's got Abby's best interests at heart?"
"Benjamin's a great man," Todd says. It sounds like he's trying to persuade not only me of this fact, but himself as well. "He knows how these creatures work. He knows what we have to do with them."
"Abby's not a creature," I remind him. "She's your sister's daughter. Are you sure Benjamin doesn't just see her as a specimen to be locked up, analyzed... maybe even dissected?"
"That's totally unfair," he says, barging past me and heading into the main control room, where Benjamin is studying data on a laptop.
"Are you ready?" Benjamin asks, not looking up.
"Any idea where she is?" Todd asks.
"I thought you had a tracker on her?" I say. "Can't you just -"
"She removed it," Benjamin says, sounding rather annoyed. "We still have a tracker on Patrick, but so far he seems to be staying in one place, just outside Dedston. At some point, he has to go and find her himself. We'll just let him lead us straight to her."
"Patrick's not that stupid," I say.
Benjamin looks over at me. "Did I ask for your opinion?"
"I'm just saying that Patrick probably knows you're watching him. Even if he can track Abby down, he's not gonna do anything that helps you, is he?"
There's a pause as Benjamin
stares at me. "Remarkably, you might be right," he says, turning to Todd. "We have to assume that Patrick is capable of locating Abigail, but that he's choosing not to do so because he wants to frustrate our efforts."
Todd turns to me. "If you were her, where would you go?"
"I thought you didn't want my opinion?" I reply.
"Shelley, please..."
"I have no idea where she's gone," I continue. "She has no family, no friends, no nothing. She's alone out there in the world, and she has nowhere to go."
"I'm willing to offer you a deal," Benjamin says suddenly. He stands up and walks over to me. "I know we haven't exactly agreed on many things so far, Shelley, but I'm man enough to admit when I'm wrong. You have a good relationship with Abigail, and we need to find a way to get her to trust us. Despite what you might think, my primary concern is for her well-being." He pauses. "If you're willing to help us find Abigail and get her to come back here, I'm happy for you to have a say in her treatment. Perhaps my approach isn't entirely effective. After all, I can't help her if she's scared of me, can I? I've made mistakes. For Abigail's sake, I'm hoping we can put aside our differences and work together. She needs us."
I stare at him, trying to work out if he's genuine. I have no doubt that he'd happily change his mind about any agreement later on, and there'd be nothing I could do to stop him. At the same time, maybe he's genuinely realized that his approach isn't working; maybe he truly wants my help.
"If I was in Abby's position," I say eventually, "I'd go home. I'd go back to New Mexico."
Benjamin shakes his head. "That's not logical."
"She's not logical," I point out. "She has nowhere else to go."
"Still -" Benjamin starts to say.
"I think Shelley's right," Todd says. "The odds are, Abby's gone back to Callerton."
Benjamin shakes his head. "It's unlikely, but go and see. Both of you. I must admit, I'll be rather disappointed if she's there. I'd hoped she might show more intelligence."
"It's not about intelligence," I say, annoyed by his attitude. "It's about being scared."
"Come on," Todd says to me, turning and heading out of the room.
"Go with him," Benjamin continues. "If you find Abigail, bring her back here. I assure you, I only want what's best for her. I know perhaps my treatment of Patrick seemed rather brutal, but I needed to keep him away from her." He pauses. "Shelley, I'm fully aware that my manner can sometimes be a little harsh. I must seem cruel and heartless at times, but you must look past all of that and recognize that my true aim is merely to help Abigail. Do you really think she's better off out there, alone, at the mercy of whatever creatures are able to track her down first? You saw the Tenderlings back at the diner. You must know I'm right."
"I won't let you hurt her," I say. "Just remember that." I head out of the room, following Todd along the corridor that leads to the exit. I still don't know whether I can trust Benjamin, but he's right about one thing: Abby is lost and alone in the world, and she needs help.
Abigail
Callerton, New Mexico.
"Are you okay?" Donna asks, her voice sounding a little weak. She's shivering slightly. It must be dawn soon. We've been out here in the dark for so long, I keep expecting to see daybreak on the horizon. It's almost as if time has stopped and we're destined to sit here together for the rest of time.
"I'm fine," I say, sitting a few meters away. "I'm not the one you should be worried about right now."
"You look like you're in pain," she replies.
"I'm not," I say firmly. The truth is, though: she's right. Although the intense pain from earlier has passed, I can still feel a sharp ache throughout my body. Something's definitely wrong with me, but I have no idea what. It's as if, deep inside, there's this set of razor blades slowly churning. Any moment, they might suddenly strike again, sending me into spasms of agony. I can't handle that level of pain again. I wish there was someone around who could fix it, or who could at least tell me what's wrong. Is this normal for someone like me? Am I changing? Am I dying? I wish there was someone I could ask.
"I am," Donna says after a moment.
"You are what?" I ask. I'd almost forgotten she was here.
"In pain," she replies. "My arm really hurts." She pauses for a moment. "If you let me go, I'll see a doctor but I swear to God I won't tell him what happened. I'll say I fell. I'll tell them I was out hiking and I got lost, and I fell, and that's how I got injured. I swear to fucking God, Abby, I'll never tell anyone about any of this." She pauses for a moment. "You know I'm not lying," she continues, sounding desperate. "Look, I know you could come and kill me if you found out I started talking, so I promise I'll keep my mouth shut. I don't want to cause you any trouble; I just don't want to die."
"Neither do I," I say. For a moment, the ache gets a little stronger, before ebbing away again.
"I want to go home," she says, her voice trembling as she fights back the tears.
"Do you really think I care?" I snap.
"I won't tell anyone," she whimpers.
"I know," I reply. "Who are you going to tell, anyway? What could they do about it? I'm not scared of anyone. Nobody can hurt me. I'm getting stronger all the time."
"Then let me go," she continues, close to tears. "I know I was mean to you in the past, but I never physically hurt you. I never broke your arm. Don't you think you've got your revenge now? You've done enough. Please, just let me go."
I shake my head, even though - deep down - I know she's right and everything she's saying is totally correct. The problem is that I still feel this urgent need to kill. It's strange, but I feel as if I need to have blood on my hands. If I don't kill Donna, then I'm just going to end up going out looking for someone else, and that doesn't seem fair. If I have to kill someone, Donna seems like the only viable target. I guess that sucks for her, but it's how things are going. The only question is: when should I kill her? I should strike fast, but something's holding me back. I'm not ready yet.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
"I'm thinking you should shut up," I reply. I turn to her, feeling nothing but disgust for her pathetic fear. "I'm thinking I can see through your attempts to make friends with me. What do you think's going to happen, Donna? Do you think I'm gonna start liking you?" I pause for a moment. "Do you know what you are to me? You're meat. You're a collection of bones and muscle and blood, tied up in a sack of skin that I could burst open at any moment. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to hold back from killing you?"
She stares at me, stunned. "You..." she starts to say, "you... you mentioned your parents earlier." We sit in silence for a moment. "Those people you lived with, they weren't your real... I mean, did you find your real parents?"
"Kind of."
"What were they like?"
"They were a little weird," I reply.
"You said your father would have killed me. Is he like you?"
I close my eyes, remembering Patrick back at the facility in Dedston. "I don't know," I say, before opening my eyes and staring at her. "I mean, I know what he's like. He killed my mother. But I don't know what I'm like. Not yet." I take a deep breath. "I don't know how much I take after him. I guess I'm still cooking."
"He killed your mother?" She pauses. "My Dad hit my Mom," she says suddenly. "When I was younger, he used to hit her a lot. He never hit me, but I used to hide in the closet when I heard him punching her."
"I never knew that," I reply.
"One time, he knocked out some of her teeth," she continues. "She had to go to hospital, and he passed out drunk on the sofa. I picked her teeth off the floor and put them in a matchbox for her, in case she needed them later. Then my Dad got arrested, but my Mom wouldn't press charges so he was released. It carried on like that for years, until finally my Dad beat up some guy at work." She pauses. "The guy died, and my Dad got charged with killing him." She sniffs. "He keeps writing to me, asking me to go visit him, but..." Her voice trails off.
&nb
sp; "You put her teeth in a matchbox?" I ask. For some reason, that's the part of the story that's stuck with me.
She smiles. "It made sense at the time. I..." She frowns. "That was two years ago. I guess they must still be there, in the back of the cupboard. It's weird. I never thought about getting them out again." There's a pause as she stares at me. "I hate my Dad. I really, really hate him. Do you hate me, Abby? I mean, do you really hate me?"
I shake my head. "I don't know," I tell her. I hate her pathetic human frailty, but at the same time I know that my mother was only human. If I hate human nature, then am I turning into my father? I feel as if I want to fight against my instincts and find some way to embrace humanity.
"Can I see your teeth again?" Donna asks suddenly.
I turn to her. "My teeth?"
"You showed me your teeth earlier. They were... different. They looked sharp, like..." She sounds genuinely interested, as if she's fascinated by my physiology. I can't say I blame her: after all, it's not every day that you find someone who's losing their humanity and becoming something else.
"Fangs?" I say.
She nods.
"Like vampire teeth?"
She nods again.
I move closer to her. "Are you sure you want to see them?" I ask. "They're pretty gross. They're real, too. Aren't you worried that if I show them to you, I might be tempted to bite you?"
"Show me," she says, with fear in her eyes.
Feeling a little awkward, I open my mouth.
"Wider," she says.
I open my mouth as wide as I can, pulling back my lips to give her a proper view.
"Wow," she says. She reaches out a finger, and I feel her touching one of the two long fangs that recently grew near the front of my mouth. "That's so weird," she says, clearly engrossed. "It's like, totally the strangest thing I've ever seen." She moves her finger to the sharp tip, and suddenly she winces in pain and pulls her hand away. "Shit, that's sharp," she says.
