Page 49 of Fire Bound

“I swore I heard someone whisper something.” Remi’s voice is low as she tries to listen once more. “It was almost childlike…”

“I didn’t hear anything,” I tell her as I continue to look around the unsettling room. It’s just as my eyes lock on the faint red flickering light in the corner that Remington gasps and grabs my arm.

“There!”

Looking away from what is no doubt a camera, I try to find what she’s looking at. “What?”

“Something moved.”

“It’s the mannequins and moving plastic. They’re playing mind tricks on you.” I try to calm her nerves but when my wolf lifts his head and bares his teeth, I realize I may have spoken too soon. Instantly on high alert, I step closer to Remington just in case something else is planning on ambushing me in the building. It wouldn’t be a surprise if it happened again.

“No, I’m telling you, it was something else,” she presses, her spine rigid and hands balled into fists at her sides as her blue eyes dart around the space.

She jumps abruptly and her hand points to the other side of the room where the open doors to another hallway sit. “There it is again,” Remi announces just as light footsteps slap across the floor. There’s the smallest flash of movement, whatever is out there is tiny.

“What is it?”

On cue, a child’s whimper echoes through the cold and dark space sending a cold shiver of unease down my spine.

“It’s a kid.” Remi’s eyes fill with sympathy when she looks back at me before starting to pull away from me. “We have to help them.”

This all feels so off to me. “No, something’s wrong.”

“Jax, it’s a kid,” she tries to reason. “What if this place is actually a breeding facility and they escaped? They need help.” With a harsh tug, she pulls out of my grasp and takes off like a rocket through the various pieces of plastic.

As I call her name to order her to come back, I remember something I’d foolishly looked over earlier tonight. The small footprints at the gravesite.

Oh shit.

For various reasons, I’m not sure I’ll ever be a good mom if that time ever comes. For starters, I’ve killed every houseplant I’ve ever owned. Even those ones that are supposedly easy to take care of and you only have to water them like once a week. Poor little guys. I also have burned every meal I’ve ever tried to cook that wasn’t frozen. I also sometimes forget to wash my toothpaste out of my sink. Those are some basic adult skills I’m going to need to master before I procreate.

But just because I’m not ready to care for a child doesn’t mean I don’t like them. Every child I’ve ever met I’ve felt fiercely protective of. This child is no different. I don’t know if it’s because the kid that’s in here with us could be from a breeding facility and that possibility makes my heart ache for the little boy that Jax once was when he was raised in a medical hellhole, or just my pure instincts, but either way, I run. I ignore Jax when he tells me to stop.

If I can save just one of the children who are subjected to this world tonight, maybe I won’t feel like such a failure for not doing anything to help for the last six months. So caught up in my own misery, I hadn’t had enough energy to put toward helping the women and children stuck in places like this.

Saving someone tonight isn’t going to miraculously make up for my behavior, but it’s a start. And God, I want that start. I sacrificed a life and maybe in my sick way I’m trying to make up for that by saving this one.

Just like the eerie room we were in with the mannequins, this corridor is devoid of windows. The red exit signs above the few doors remain the only source of light. My advanced eyesight allows me to see in the dark, but I’d still prefer if there were some overhead lights that could cast away the unnerving shadows around me.

“Remington!” Jax yells behind me. “Stop.”

Far ahead of me, I see the tiny figure disappear when it makes a turn down another hallway. The faint clacking of their shoes from their light footfalls fills my ears. I’ll give the kid credit, they’re fast.

Picking up speed, I bolt through the dark hallway until I reach a small room. It’s full of industrial-sized laundry hampers. Rows and rows of them make for perfect hiding places.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I call out to them in a soft, calm voice. “I just want to help.”Please let me help.

At the very last row, facing the wall, I find him. He’s curled into a ball and facing the wall. As he hears my footsteps behind him, a small, scared whimper comes from his tiny body. His hair is cut in a perfect bowl shape around his head. The strands look dirty, grease and grime cause the strands to stick together. His white collared shirt has also seen better days.

Crouching low, I slowly approach him as to not startle him any more than he already is. “It’s okay,” I coo. He shifts and presses himself tighter against the wall.

As slow and as gentle as possible, once I’m close enough, I reach out to grasp his shoulder to encourage him to face me. I just want to show him I’m not here to hurt him—to show him a friendly face.

Just as my fingers grip his boney shoulder, Jax barges into the room. “Remi! Get back!” his warning has just escaped his lips before the small boy in front of me is whirling around, showing me his face for the first time.

I barely have time to process his cold, dead eyes before there’s a flash of silver cutting through the air. On instinct, I lift my arm to protect my face. My forearm burns in pain as something slices through my flesh.

Gasping in shock and pain, I fall back on my ass on the dirty floor. My hand covers my bleeding wound as I stare at the little boy in disbelief. He’s dead. Or he was dead.

---