Page 45 of Unnatural
Sam caught the towel and held it in front of him.
“Note to self: get bigger towels,” she murmured.
He felt…happy? He didn’t know. He wanted her to look at him again.
Autumn grabbed a pair of sweatpants and threw them his way too. He pulled them on gingerly, and she must have seen from her peripheral vision, because she turned back to him. Her cheeks were less pink, and she seemed to have moved past her momentary embarrassment. “Let’s get those bandages changed.”
“Yes, nurse.”
Her gaze flew to his, and she looked mildly surprised, pausing for a moment but then nodding, taking the towel from him, and walking to the bathroom door where shehung it over the shower. “It usually steams up in here,” she said. “Were you not able to get hot water? I wonder if the water heater is—”
“I used cold water.”
She came out of the bathroom. “Cold! Why?”
Why?He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did he shower with cold water?Habit?“We didn’t have hot water in the hospital. I guess I’m just used to it.”
She stared at him, her mind obviously going over something. He could see it in her eyes. “Tell me about the hospital, Sam,” she finally said. “Tell me about it while I dress your wounds.”
A spear of worry made his back arch slightly, and he stepped forward, walking to the bed where she’d changed the bedding and propped the pillows against the wall. He sat down slowly, stiffly, scooting back to relax against the pillows. When he looked up at her, she was still watching him expectantly. He wasn’t supposed to talk about the program or the missions or those he’d been sent to kill. But he also wasn’t supposed to talk about the hospital. Because it all started there.
He considered her for a moment.You owe her.And he trusted her. If not for her, he’d be sitting in a prison cell right now. But also…she was unlike anyone else on earth who might have asked him aboutthe hospital.Because she’dbeenthere. Even if they lived in different buildings. Even if their experiences there had only been remotely similar. The hospital was part of her past as well as his, even if in different ways. So he would tell her what he could. “The part of the hospital where I lived was like yours. We were sick, and they helped us.”
“Were you an ADHM baby too?”
“Yes, but they cured us early of that.”
She approached him slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Cured you? There’s no cure.”
“The cure they used on us had too many side effects. They discontinued it. It cured us, but it caused many other problems.”
She reached for the kit of supplies on the floor before speaking. “Yes, the medication I took was the same. But it kept us alive longer, so the effects were deemed worth it.” Autumn carefully removed the old bandages he’d kept mostly dry in the shower. Her gaze was focused on her work, and it was easier to talk to her about this while her gaze was averted. “Why did they have you chase us?” She speared him with her gaze suddenly.
He couldn’t look away from those dark, soulful eyes, the ones connected to the beautiful mind that had come up with so many beautiful words and ideas.
“Because they were trying to make us strong.”Vicious.“And you were weak and dying anyway.”
He saw the pain in her eyes before she moved her gaze back to her work. Even so, her hands remained gentle. He realized that she could tell someone what he’d just disclosed to her if she wanted to. But no one would believe her. Most of the kids she’d lived with were probably dead. The ones who’d been out in those woods were certainly dead. He’d seen the ground staff removing some of the bodies. Of course, he wouldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. The hospital was closed. So what did it matter if she knew the basics ofwhy?
“They were trying to make you strong,” she repeated. “How so?”
“We’d survived a disease that most didn’t. But that and the medication that cured us caused a lot of damage. Somethings had to be replaced, so we underwent many surgeries. Dr. Heathrow believed that he could not only heal us but make us better and stronger than ordinary people.”
She was silent as she worked, clearly processing, clearly troubled. “So they used us as…what? Bait?”
He thought about that. It didn’t seem like quite the right word. They’d never been told precisely what to do with the kids they left in the woods, except to wait for them to wake. Then they could capture them and do as they pleased. Anything they wanted. Sam didn’t knowallof what pleased the others, only that they came back with a shine in their eyes and blood splashed on the front of their clothes. And he’d heard the screams. Yes, he had at least some idea of whatpleasedthe others, but he chose not to consider it too closely. “No,” he said finally. “As practice. As training.”
Her hands, applying ointment to his wounds, stilled. “Practice? Training?” Her voice cracked on the second word. “Forwhat?”
He couldn’t tell her more than that. He wouldn’t. He had been created to be a monster, and she could see that from looking at him, but she didn’t have to know the extent of his purpose. The gruesome details. She didn’t have to know that he was even more monstrous on the inside.And, he told himself, it’s dangerous for her if she does. “Practice hunting, chasing.” He looked away.
“To what end?” she asked.
“So that we could join militaries and be special forces with unusual and superior skills,” he said, which was sort of true but not the whole story. He tensed, grimacing as though she’d hurt him, and she focused her attention back on applying the bandages and tape.Gentle hands. So gentle.The world wasn’t made for gentleness like hers. Whoknew that better than he did? She still seemed troubled but mostly sad.
“So the military was involved?”
“It was mostly research work. I don’t know the specifics of who funded it. What I do know is that I’m not supposed to talk about it. The program or the research.”Plausible deniability,they called it. If he was captured before he could take the cyanide pill, it was better that he not know any details. The only name he knew was Dr. Swift, but he’d never seen so much as a photo of him.
