by Jade White
“Thank you would be a start,” the old man said, now busying himself with heating water and grabbing a clean towel from a cupboard. “I’m guessing you two are fugitives. I can smell the werebeing on you. But her, I don’t know. Is she some other werebeing I don’t know of yet?”
Ryker was stunned. He couldn’t tell the old man was a werebeing. “What are you?” he found himself asking.
The old man turned to face him, his black eyes staring at Ryker’s. “I haven’t shifted in so long,” he began. “The last time I did, I tried to save my wife and child.”
He made no mention of what kind of werebeing he was.
“The name’s Jensen,” the old man said, “and you’re on the run from whom? The damned government?” he muttered, grabbing a basin. He hobbled over to Alexia who was shivering on bed. He placed a palm over her forehead. “Well, she’s running a fever. Aside from running away, what’s your story?”
Story? There was no story. Ryker said nothing. He could be a spy; he could betray them in the end…
“If you’re thinking that I’m going to snitch on you, what the hell would that do for me?” Jensen told him with a glower.
“They want us dead. We escaped from the capital. I- I participated in the last WereGames,” Ryker said after his initial hesitation.
“They’re still at it; every damn year, they’re still at it,” Jensen muttered. “Well, I’m not going to delve into details. If you’re escaping from them, you might as well be quick about it, huh, kid? Where are you off to?”
“Just far away,” Ryker replied carefully.
“Ha,” Jensen laughed a short laugh. “Of course you won’t tell me. Can’t trust anyone these days, even your fellow shifters.”
“I want her safe.”
“What is she anyway, the president’s daughter?” Jensen guffawed.
*
“Oh god, no, no,” the woman’s face turned ashen as she stared at her son, her son that had turned into something else. Her youngest boy had shifted into the unthinkable.
“You did this on purpose!” she screamed to her husband. “You’re a monster!”
Magnus stood tall above his third son, staring at the furry werewolf in front of him, confused and afraid and snapping at everyone. This would remain a family secret, he told himself. His father and his father before him had made sure their rule was strong and absolute. To have a werebeing as a son would spell disaster, as they had spent their lives working on these werebeings for various projects.
Now, his seven year old son was one. It was time to have the boy put away and studied, just like the rest of the children.
“Papa, please don’t!” his second son begged, knowing how cruel the tests were on werebeings.
Magnus said nothing. His eldest son, who was but aged fourteen, stared in shock and in disbelief. His wife was pleading to him, begging for her son’s life to be spared, begging for his mercy. They had all but forgotten their youngest child, their only girl who was in the room as well.
She took a step forward as the young werewolf snapped at them and growled.
“Look,” Magnus II whispered to everyone in the room.
Magnus Caledon looked at his only daughter, his pride and joy, walking straight for the jaws of the werebeing he had once called his son. They all stared in rapt attention as her hand reached out without her eyes flinching.
“Don’t be afraid, Jared,” the little girl soothed her brother.
As soon as she touched the werewolf’s head, it disappeared and reverted into a little boy. Jared was now on the floor, unconscious from his first shifting, and the little girl cradled her brother’s head on her lap.
All his love for his daughter disappeared.
Magnus Caledon paced in his office, wondering how the pursuit for the youngsters went. It would be big news if it were to be leaked out. The first werebear to win in a long, long time would be the first to betray his regime’s kindness as well. The door opened, and he stopped pacing, looking to see who it was.
It was his second son, Stephen Caledon, a highly decorated soldier in his early 20s. He was following in his older brother’s footsteps, excelling in various political and military endeavors. He saluted before taking another step.
“President Caledon, sir,” he greeted.
“At ease, soldier,” Magnus told his son. “Any update on the pursuit?”
“I’m actually surprised I wasn’t informed of it until two days ago. It took me a while to gather information.”
“I understand Dr. Delaney and a few of our researchers died in that fire when the test subjects escaped,” Magnus said in a quiet voice. “What I don’t understand is how the power failed when extra precautions were taken to ensure the facility was in top condition twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.”
“I’m still waiting for a report on that,” Stephen replied crisply. “We do have weresoldiers-“
“Has it ever occurred to you that these weresoldiers might harbor kind sentiments for the escapees?” Magnus said, looking out the window. He enjoyed the cosmopolitan view, how the city shone in during the day and at night. It was a product of years of hard work and restoration.
“Tell me, where is your older brother?” Magnus asked.
“Last I heard, Col. Magnus was on his way here,” Stephen replied.
Magnus nodded. “You’re excused. I trust you’ll be making your way cross country to find them?”
Stephen nodded and saluted. Just as he spun around, his older brother Magnus II came in. He saluted at his older brother and then he left. Every time he saw his father, he felt the need to ask him something personal. He never did. He didn’t want to be labeled a sissy. He was a Caledon through and through. It surprised him that he had been assigned this investigation when it was Magnus II who was assigned to M.I.D.A.S., not him. Perhaps, it was a bigger problem than they had all expected, something his older brother couldn’t handle alone by himself. Stephen shrugged these thoughts off, quickly walking away.
“Father,” Magnus II greeted his stoic leader.
Magnus walked for the table where a decanter of wine was on display. He poured a glass for himself, and offered one to his son; Magnus II politely declined.
“Come now, your old man offers you wine and you say no?” Magnus said with a wry smile. “Any updates?”
Updates were crucial. They hadn’t been able to track the escapees since the facility had burned down. The irony, since they were just within a dam.
“We’ve sent a few werebeings out. Their scent’s been picked up, albeit faintly. I have a feeling they’re heading for Oregon, where our latest winner was from.”
“What’s there?”
Magnus II shrugged. “A community, perhaps? I believe he’s one of the last of his kind that we’ve actually had the pleasure of seeing. I’ve sent out X013, who I believe was closest to A129 as a child.”
The president nodded. “Of course. Sentiment. It will kill anyone in the end,” he told his son. “I’m giving them a deadline, until next week. This won’t look good on us; it screams poor governance. I’ve asked Stephen to help you with a few aspects. It isn’t in his area of expertise, as he’s always been with the air force. A few jets will be at your disposal, should you need to level down places that have harbored fugitives.”
“Of course, Father,” he replied.
Magnus spoke for a few more minutes with his son, mainly on other affairs. Small rebellions had always existed, but these were immediately quelled with a few innocent lives taken away. As soon as his eldest son left, Magnus drank the last of his wine.
His children hadn’t remembered. He had taken the precaution of having their memories altered. Alexia’s face had already been a blur to him, until M.I.D.A.S. had released her picture to the public. Ah, so that was his Alexia, that was how she looked after sending her away. It had been more than ten years. Alexia Caledon had once been loved, had once lived a comfortable life that many would have killed for. That had all changed the moment she had displa
yed a prowess that his researchers had never seen in the past.
Magnus poured himself another glass of wine, enjoying the sour aftertaste of the alcohol. Overall, he knew he had been a strong leader; if not a good one. He had made discernments that had made his country a proud one, standing tall after the war though it had been plunged into by infidels who did not believe his grandfather would lead the country to a new era. He had carried on that proud tradition.
He had killed his fair share of rebels, had killed his own relatives in a bid for absolute power. Magnus II was doing the same. His eldest son was a good leader in his own right, if not a bit too concerned about certain matters. Stephen, on the other hand, was hungry for power, something that he scrutinized. Stephen could be a good leader, too, a leader that instilled discipline and fear like he did. He had thought about his two sons facing off, to see who was fit to rule the country.
His wife would have no say about this; she had long been dead, a mere two weeks after he had sent their only daughter away. He had expected her death in a way, knowing Juliet had loved all of her children fiercely. He had been informed of her demise as he was instructing an attack on California (a hotbed for activists and rebels).
It had been fairly simple. She had killed herself by hanging on the chandelier of her bedroom -- a sight that one maid had seen first. The maid had screamed down the hallway, alerting the rest of the presidential security. The maid had been swiftly executed, and Juliet’s death had been announced as a heart attack, following the deaths of their two children -- deaths which had been instigated by rebels who had entered the palace. His two older children knew better, thus the need for some memory alterations. The rest of the guards’ memories had been altered as well; and those that had worked on that alteration had been killed, all to close the story.
The president had received a fair amount of sympathy from the country’s citizens, even internationally. He had been hailed as an unwavering leader in that, despite the death of many of his family members, he still led the country on. His ratings had been at an all-time high that month, all made possible by necessary sacrifices. Did he feel guilty? Perhaps, he did. But his hard work and his country’s progress was the result of it. Jared had not lasted a year into the program; his little body could not take all of the tests. Alexia had; she had lived in the shadows of the facility, never knowing of her true nature.
Magnus had ignored her presence while in that facility. He knew she was alive, as she was the last to survive into adolescence. He received reports of the progress her DNA had made for the super soldier program his regime had helmed over the years. Progress, however slow, was still progress. At least Alexia was still valuable, even if she had turned out to be a personal disappointment to him.
The past always found its way back out, rearing its ugly head, filled with memories and emotions that made him waver in his decisions. He had no qualms about having her killed by the werebeings, and even by his own sons. He had long thought that that ugly chapter of his life had been sealed away, but never completely. In a few days’ time, Alexia would be nothing more than another test subject that had run amuck, to be killed for her betrayal to the country and to him.
*
“She’s someone’s daughter, that’s for sure, whether she grew up in a lab or not. But we’re not here to find her father,” Ryker told Jensen. “We escaped from a place that tortured us, that tortured her to near death.”
“So she’s been a part of those secret projects that torture kids?” Jensen whispered. “Then the rumors were not rumors, but it was truth filtered out slowly. What’d they do to her?”
His tone had changed, a far cry from the boondocks persona he had displayed earlier.
“Everything and anything they could think of.”
“She’s no werebeing, that’s for sure,” Jensen said. “What could she be? Some human with werebeing parentage?”
Ryker shrugged, looking at her. A blanket covered her up to her neck, and she was curled up in a fetal position, not hearing their conversation.
“Whatever she is, someone asked me to take her out. Maybe that person had pity on her. She’d been stuck there for too long. She hadn’t seen the sun. She’s really like a little girl, learning about everything all at once. She hadn’t felt moss, seen grass, or drunk water from a spring. She’d never had berries or heard an owl hoot. I mean, what kind of facility does that to people? To kids?”
“So, you weren’t part of the experiments before?”
“I’m new; they caught me. I tried to save another werebeing. She still ended up dead,” Ryker said in a low voice, bitterness and regret rising through him. “Had I not done that-”
“She still would have ended up dead, and you would still be discovered, whatever type of werebeing you are. I can’t smell it on you. You’re in need of a bath.” Jensen chuckled.
Ryker closed his eyes. “You don’t know of any other werebeings in these parts?”
“Kid, I’ve lived on my own for thirty years. I’ve got no social security number and no bank account. Whatever cash I get, I get from selling whatever game I catch in a town that’s a three-hour walk away. Talk about progressive, huh? I suppose it’s a blessing in disguise, living so remotely. They won’t remember me or the family I had that they killed. I, however, remember them clearly.”
“What did you do before that happened?” Ryker found himself asking.
Jensen smiled. “I was a political science professor for one of the country’s most prestigious universities. They saw my lectures as a potential hazard. So… that’s why I’m now here. Forgotten. Something tells me you don’t want to be forgotten.”
“I don’t want to be a statistic, that’s what. And I promised someone I’d see her through this. I’d like to keep my promises, even if I die.”
“You speak like you’re a seasoned soldier,” Jensen said.
“I was a seasoned criminal before my own boss betrayed me for Caledon.”
“And she’s atonement for that?”
Ryker shook his head. “She was already in the lab before I got there. The doctor- I think she felt pity on her. She’d been there for years; and she was scheduled for termination a week ago.”
“They wanted to kill her because…?”
“They probably tired of her. She didn’t have political views; she didn’t protest. She just wasn’t given a chance. I hope I can help give her one.”
“You’re young; you have the strength and stamina for that,” Jensen eyed him.
Ryker shook his head. “This is all self-preservation, sir. I escaped death early on, but they killed my parents for it. I’m selfish; all I want is to get away. She’s collateral damage.”
“Collateral or not, you could have left her to die, but you didn’t. That doctor was of no relation to you, but you heeded her plea.”
Ryker shrugged. He had been shrugging off the fact that he had saved someone, yet again, when he swore he wouldn’t. The little girl and her family, plus those friends he had briefly made in the games -- they all had died because of his presence. Alexia was a heavy burden on him, but he refused to let it affect their sojourn to freedom. After Alaska, he thought of crossing the sea to get to the Soviet Republic… it was a far-off idea, but it seemed better than staying in a country that wanted him dead.
Dr. Delaney had been sincere and passionate, wanting Alexia out of the facility before they could have her killed. She had no chance of surviving inside a place that had been slowly killing her as she grew up. Had she become so useless that they would want her dead? What else were they looking for? Couldn’t they have forced it out of her the way they had forced it out of him?
“She won’t last long out there, as sick as she is,” Jensen added, looking at him again. He saw it made Ryker feel uncomfortable. “You’re no people person, are you?”
“I guess that’s obvious. A lot of people can be disappointing,” Ryker found himself saying.
“They may be disappointing, but you have to admit, if
they want it, they’ll do anything to get it. Don’t forget that human side of you; put hope in there, not just that animalistic survival instinct.”
“How sick is she?”
“I can’t tell much. High fever is all there is. Did they make her drink anything at the lab?”
“They injected her with a lot of chemicals. They called it vitamins,” Ryker said. He saw her shift a little, and his eyes narrowed. “I got those vitamins, too. They knocked me out all the time.”
“I’m out here because I don’t want to be a part of that mandatory werebeing identification program,” Jensen said. “These woods are my safe haven, but I don’t know how long it will be.”
“Because we’re here,” Ryker said immediately. “We’ll be out of here tomorrow morning.”
“Nonsense. I think this is the perfect time to mingle with a fellow werebeing. I haven’t seen one in years. Besides, you’re not expecting her to be at her best when you walk all the way to wherever you’re headed now, are you? Not with all these announcements and checkpoints?”
“How do you know-?”
“Psshh. They’ve always done that. I went through that. They thought they had killed me way back when in California.”
“Why don’t you come with us?”
“Kid, I barely know you. Besides, I’m old, and I prefer my life of solitude. There are certain inner demons I need to vanquish before I die or become senile. Are you trying to get to her parents?”
“I don’t know if she has any…” he said. “She’s as alone as you and me.”
“She has you now,” Jensen pointed out.
“I’m not in any way connected to her.”
“By taking her out of that place, you are now.”
Ryker frowned. All this talking was making him feel exhausted. It had been a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ the past two years he had been in the capital.
“I’ll keep watch tonight, sir.”
Jensen’s brows rose. “You’re not sleeping? No one comes in these parts.”
“Not yet. Maybe in a few -- and you never know.”
