Page 34 of Mutant Mine

“Roth is my surname. I had a first name, once, but it no longer felt like mine after I… changed. Losing half of it, becoming only half of what I was before, seemed to fit better.”

“That makes sense,” she says thoughtfully.

A few moments later, in the dark, there are some scuffling sounds. It sounds as if she is having a fight with her comforter.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Taking off my chest binder,” she says. “I guess there’s no point wearing it now, since you know I’m a girl anyway. Plus, it fucking hurts.”

Her tone is taut and defiant, clearly demanding:Do you havesomething to say about that?I sense that this is important to her — perhaps a kind of test. A lot hangs on my reaction to this fact.

The thought of Rory’s soft breasts spilling free from their bindings, tips peaking in the cool air… Ah. There are many things I would like to say about that. And do about it.

But in the dark, she cannot see my reaction. I can protect her from the knowledge of it. I never want to make her feel unsafe — especially not tonight, when she has chosen to trust me with her pale throat, and with her name.

“I am glad you are comfortable,” I say, blandly.

“Good!” says Rory.

“Yes. Good,” I say.

We lie there together in silence for quite some time before we fall asleep.

20

Rory

LIFE HAStaken yet another turn for the weird. It’s like I’m trapped at a slumber party with a giant mutant, where we stay up late every night eating treats and whispering secrets.

Over a week has passed like this. Being stuck in these rooms is a lot less dull now that I’ve figured out how to use the entertainment screen (and know that Roth isn’t going to murder me for touching stuff without his permission). During the day, I pass the time alone, watching movies or reading on the tablet he gave me. I’ve even found some exercise videos to work out to, using my own body weight for resistance since I have no gym equipment. Anything to stop my muscles from wasting away.

Late in the evenings, Roth returns. He’s usually eaten already — but often, he invites me to share a little something extra, eating stood up in the kitchen. Last night, it was half each of a sharp green apple, cut into slices.

Then we retreat to our separate territories in the bedroom, and we sleep.

Weirdness aside, I’m beginning to feel… not completely terrified of him?

Okay, I take that back. The weirdness definitely cannot be put aside. Feeling safe may be the weirdest thing of all in this situation. But if Roth was planning to hurt me, wouldn’t he have done it by now?

Don’t get me wrong; I’m still stressed as hell. I have no idea what the future looks like, or why Roth is keeping me in here. He’s intimidating even when he’s visibly trying not to be. And I can’t stop feeling sick with guilt about Tommy, Ellis, and the others… They must be experiencing so much misery right now, while I lounge on the couch.

Again I wish there was a maintenance hatch in here. That way, I could at least crawl over to maximum security and make sure that the crew are all okay. I could even pass on Roth’s promise to keep them alive, to use them as leverage in case the authorities catch up with us. That’s a real, tactical reason, which I’m sure they’d trust a lot more than the honor of Roth’s word.

But there is no maintenance hatch. I can’t reach them. Really, I can’t achieveanythinguseful right now. All I can do is try to keep my mind and body in the best shape possible, so that when the opportunity to escape and help the others does come, I’m ready and waiting.

So that’s what I’m trying to do.

As always, Roth is gone by the time I wake up. I eat my breakfast alone. Then I lock myself in the bathroom for another hasty wash at the sink, and change into clean clothes.

The tablet is a godsend. It’s packed with more books than I’ll ever manage to read. I was spoiled for choice, but I decided to start withFrankenstein— plus some non-fiction, too.

If I ever get out of here, maybe I can take the tablet with me. Roth wouldn’t mind, I don’t think. Whatever else he may be, he isn’t materialistic. He wants me to share everything that’s his. In fact, he doesn’t seem to view anything as ‘his’ at all.

But… if this whole nightmare ends with Roth being arrested, then he should have the tablet. Just a few days locked in this room has had me crawling up the walls with boredom and frustration. What would it be like to spend years in a cell, with nothing to entertain your mind? I can’t even imagine. Books would make it better, right?

Ugh, wait. I’m an idiot. How’s he going to get the tablet into prison, up his ass? He’s big, but he’s not that big.

…And anyway, Iwanthim to be arrested.

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