Page 77 of After the Fall

Savannah’s face broke when she us. “Thank God. Don’t leave me alone next time.” Her lower lip trembled.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“You scared me,” she admitted, as we carried on through the village. “Especially when those women appeared.”

As we continued along the cobblestone pathway, the eerie silence from before was replaced with something else. Gentle laughter floated between the homes. A curtain shifted in a window, and I caught a woman peering through the pane as we passed. As we made eye contact through the glass, I thought I caught the hint of a smile.

We came to a small cottage at the far end of the village. A white picket fence surrounded a beautiful garden teeming with plants, and tiny birdhouses hung from the front porch with wind chimes, tinkling in the wind. “Welcome to my home,” Fiona grinned. “You should see my garden in the summer,” she said, as if reading my mind.

I reached out to touch a giant red fern. It looked like one I had seen in my dad’s books, though I didn’t know the name. “Your garden is amazing,” I said in awe. “You know, I always thought I’d have a career working with plants and flowers. Not journalism,” I laughed. “Maybe I should take a page from you.”

“It’s never too late.” She winked and climbed the steps, reaching for a key hidden beneath a garden gnome, next to a small plate of sparkly treasures.

“You lock your door?” I asked, surprised.

“Not for danger,” she explained. “For mischievous little hands. The forest is a wonderful place to grow up, but for some small minds, it can be boring and restrictive. You have to make your own adventures.”

As we went inside, I wondered if Fiona had been one of those youth searching for adventure. Shelves lined every inch of wall space, stuffed with jumbles of books. I instantly felt at home.

Above the couch, Fiona had hung a large map of the world. Savannah squinted at the writing. “What language is this?”

Fiona and I both chuckled. There was still a lot Savannah didn’t know about the sasquatches, and even I had much more to learn. After we resolved thing with the Carders, would I still have reason to be a part of this world? Wyatt had made it clear he wasn’t interested in friendship with me, but what about Fiona? I was starting to think of her as a friend.

Fiona set a record onto the turntable and the deep, rich sounds of a cello filled her home, evoking a somber mood. “I’ll show you girls to your bedroom. I hope you’re okay sharing a bed. It’s a tiny guest room.” Savannah and I looked at each other and nodded.

It turned out Fiona was an amazing chef, one who could rival Gloria. She quickly whipped together a vegetable stew that filled our bellies, which we ate sitting around the small round table.

Yawning, I realized I was wiped from the full day of travel. I looked at Savannah, whose eyes were tiny slits, worn thin with exhaustion. We said goodnight to Fiona, and tucked in for the night. Before drifting to sleep, I sent a wish out into the darkness of the night, that Wyatt and my dad would come back to me in one piece. And that this would all be over soon.

FORTY

WYATT

Joe might have been a weakerversion of us, but he was experienced in the woods. We made it deep into Stirling County in record time. He had hidden from the world by taking advantage of the river system and how the water masked his scent. Because of that, he knew where every river and tributary ran through the county, even old dried-up riverbeds. That’s what we used as our highway as we sprinted further and further north.

From the top of the rocky outcropping we could see the roof of the Genocorp building. Smoke curled from one of the chimney stacks. There was definitely someone inside.

Our plan seemed simple. Exchange Joe for Atticus. They needed Joe to continue their experiments. He was invaluable, and we expected the trade to go smoothly. But first we needed to find out where Atticus was being held. There was no point in handing them Joe if Atticus wasn’t on the premises. To do that, we were going to have to break in. Joe knew all the weak points of the building and led me from treetop to treetop, down the rocky slope, avoiding the limits of the closed-circuit cameras on the exterior of the building.

The windows all had bars on them, with the exception of the staff room. Those Genocorp fuckers wanted to make sure that they could get out in case of a fire. The window was high off the ground, but they hadn’t accounted for an abnormally tall man boosting an accomplice.

Joe’s foot rested in my clasped hands, and as the camera panned away, he slid up the window and slithered inside the building like a snake. I grunted as I jumped as high as I could and grabbed the frame, pulling myself through the window before the camera panned back.

“Where is everyone?” I whispered. I had half expected to find a bunch of wild-haired scientists huddled over bologna sandwiches and bad coffee in the lunch room.

“They don’t start work until later. It’s still the night shift.” He pointed to the clock on the wall. “Come on. If Atticus is here, he’s being held with the others.”

The others.

It was the first time I’d wondered if they had experimented on one of my brothers. Fury built in my guts and I clenched my fists. If they gene spliced any hair on Atticus’ body, I’d kill every last one of them. And I’d save Michelle Carder for the end. But I wouldn’t kill her. No, I knew that disfiguring a woman like that would be worse than death. She was so damn vain. I would make sure that she turned into a monster, one that children would scream at if she ever showed her f…

“Wyatt,” Joe hissed.

“Sorry,” I shook my revenge fantasy from my head. As much as I’d love to turn Mrs. Carder into something she despised, in all likelihood, I’d just squeeze the life from her with my bare hands.

“Wyatt.” Joe waved for me to follow him. He punched in a security code and our footsteps echoed as we ventured deeper into the facility.

Cages that looked like prison cells lined each side of the room. At first, I was worried that their occupants would ruin our surprise visit, but we were met with blank stares. Some creatures looked like ordinary men, and they gripped the bars, their vacant gaze following us as we tiptoed through the building. Others looked more like me, in my fully wild form. Those versions had eyes that looked as though they had been lobotomized.

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