Page 2 of Guarded By a Monster

“Sorry. I talk too much when I’m nervous.”

“That’s all right.”

The operator switched her voice to patient grandmother mode and even though I registered what she was doing; it calmed me down. I inhaled until my lungs burned and then slowly let the air out. “I hear sirens!” I kept my happy dance restrained.

“Yes ma’am. Tell me when the first to arrive is on scene.”

“A police officer has just parked at the far end of the alley.”

“I’ll let them take it from here, then.”

I hadn’t even finished my, “Okay, bye,” before I heard the click. I went to rub my eyes and then remembered that hand was on the ground. Water dripped steadily from a rusty air conditioning unit above, making me jump at each plunk against the metal dumpster.

I needed to wash my hands. I was probably immune to everything but Ebola, but I still didn’t slack on personal disease prevention. Working with twenty of the world’s best disease vectors for a few years will do that to you.

The police officer exited her patrol car and I waved at her like I was inviting her into the backyard picnic.

“Jade Massey?”

I nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep.” I pressed my lips together to keep the stream of words from flowing.

“Please walk to me, keeping as close to the building as possible.”

I did as I was told, trying to appear as normal as possible. When I got close enough, she stuck out her hand. My capacity to make things weird knows no bounds, apparently. “You don’t want to touch me. I had to sit on the ground next to the dumpster. I mean, I had to put my hand on the ground to dig my phone out of my pocket.” I looked around like a sink and soap would appear in the alley.

The striking woman stared at me the way I looked at the first kid I caught picking boogers each year. She dropped her hand to her side and took a step back. “Right. Do you have blood on your skin or clothing?”

I shook my head. “I was pretty far away. I don’t think the killer ever saw me.”

“Let’s hope not.”

The murmur of her voice continued under my head exploding. “Am I in danger?”

After her pointed look, I peeled my fingers away from her bicep and took a step back.

“A detective will determine your level of risk after taking your statement.”

I nodded and picked at the skin next to my thumbnail. “Can I wait inside? I’m hungry and want to wash my hands.”

A flock of police cars trailed a silent ambulance that wedged itself into the narrow opening of the alley. The police officer I’d grabbed with my grubby hand closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ll escort you to the restroom.”

Thebut I don’t wannawas as loud as if she’d actually said it.

two

I rolled over forthe hundredth time. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get comfortable. The bed was too soft, the house too quiet. I should be thankful for both. It wasn’t long ago my brothers and I were trapped in a lab, continually poked and prodded by scientists and subject to their every whim.

Some of my brothers had adapted to freedom well. Not me. I was on constant alert, waiting for the spotlights, the shouting of soldiers, the pounding of boots signaling our capture.

I wanted to relax. I wanted to enjoy the freedom we’d won with our fangs and claws, but I couldn’t quite manage it. I gave up and got out of bed. I wandered down the hall into my kitchen. Our specially designed houses had tall ceilings and industrial strength appliances—a far cry from the small, sterile confines of the lab.

My ears flicked, searching for any sound out of place. There were none. I stepped outside into the night and took a deep breath. No unusual smells. Fireflies flicked in the shelter of the trees making lazy loops.

I made a concerted effort to lower my shoulders and stretch my fingers out of their usual fists.

---