Page 86 of Unnatural
Sam stood in the doorway for a moment, watching suspiciously as Jak and Eddie wrestled on the floor. The childlet out shrieks of laughter, attacking his father with all his strength, which was to say barely any. His father laughed, easily holding him at bay with a single extended arm. Sam couldn’t understand it. He didn’t understand play that didn’t involve one opponent winning. But this clearly didn’t, since if they were playing to win, Jak would have effortlessly overcome the small child who might someday be a giant but definitely wasn’t one now.
It’s how dogs play, he thought, remembering back to watching a mutt behave in the same way with her puppies on a street in Mexico City. He’d sat in the shade of a tree as he’d waited for a signal to come through on his phone about his target and watched her for a good long while. It’d interested him in the same way the sight before him did now. He’d thought then that the mutt was teaching her young how to fight, and maybe that was what Jak was doing too. But it surprised him, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. Possibly because Sam had learned to fight, to be strong,in a much different way. There had been no laughter, no fun. There had only been images of violence and blood and carnage. And later…Autumn’s pale, weak body lying prone for him to do with as he pleased. A deep shiver snaked down his spine, and he forced his mind back to where his gaze still lingered on Jak and his boy, tussling like wolves.
Then again, Jak had practicallybeena wolf for much of his life. He’d told Sam some of it. He’d told Sam to think of him as a brother.
Sam and Jak were the same yet so very different.
Sam didn’t romp or laugh or play. He wouldn’t even know how. When he tried to imagine it, it made him want to laugh and, strangely, to cry.
Harper, sitting on the couch nearby, using large needles that clicked and clacked to weave together a piece of yellow string, laughed when Jak growled at Eddie, flipping him over and putting his palm underneath the boy’s head so that it didn’t hit the floor. Eddie shrieked with apparent glee again, and Sam turned away, feeling inexplicably sullen about the whole scene.
Perhaps seeing Jak, who had endured similar trials, enjoying his life should have made Sam hopeful he could have that too. But it only did the opposite. To survive, he’d had to kill, but it hadn’t been his sole purpose. They hadn’t pumped darkness into Jak the way they had with Sam. Black tar still coated his mind, causing images to rise unbidden.
Autumn was sitting on a window seat in the eating area, a direct view to where Sam had just stood, watching Jak and Eddie play. She smiled, patting the seat next to her. Sam sat down, slumping against the pillows and staring morosely out at the gray water. This house was impressive, but he missedtheir cottage. He missed the way he’d felt there. He missed sitting on the rickety deck gazing at the forest, watching the way the water reflected the sky. Hearing birds chatter and squirrels squabble over nuts. It’d made him laugh. There was a deck here too, but it didn’t feel the same.
Something inside him was different too, and he couldn’t seem to focus on the sky or the birds or whatever small creatures might come along and amuse him. Mostly, he missed being alone with Autumn and feeling almost human. He’d just begun getting used to her touch, not just tolerating it butcravingit, and now she didn’t touch him as much because there were others around. And he didn’t know how to do that either, bearoundpeople. Interact. Converse. They seemed to enjoy it, but it only brought him anxiety and made him more aware of hisotherness.
“Kids are funny,” she said, laying the magazine she’d been reading down. “And that Eddie is a little handful.” She laughed, obvious affection dancing in her dark eyes. He could tell she liked the kid by the way she constantly smiled when he was around.
“I can’t have any kids,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
Autumn looked slightly stricken, and he immediately regretted the way he’d said it. “Oh. I’m sorry, Sam.” She looked away, biting at her lip. She was upset, and it made Sam feel upset too. “Um, maybe we should have talked about that…at the cottage…when we…but, I’m on the pill. I’ve missed a few now but that shouldn’t...well, you know.” Her eyes moved over his features, staring at him like she needed rescuing.
Sam wanted to rescue her. It was all he wanted to do. It was a burning flame inside him. Only Sam didn’t know what to rescue herfrom, except possibly himself, so he simplystared back, helpless.
She lowered her eyes. “They almost took that from me too,” she said. “The ability to have my own children.” Her lips tipped down. “I’ve thought about that. I was so close,” she murmured. “What if…well…” She blinked, bringing her gaze back to his and shaking her head, as if she wanted to take back what she’d said.
What if.
What if they had made her like him? Taken from her in the same way they’d taken from him?
He’d never really cared about not being able to have kids before. Never cared that they’d pumped him full of so many chemicals that they’d killed any chance of that. The thought of Sam with a child was ridiculous. But suddenly, the acknowledgment scratched slightly, like someone was picking at a scab that had almost healed. Not particularly painful, just…bothersome.Why?One more reminder of what he’d never be? Then again, what they’d done to Adam was a reminder as well. He felt stuck, confused, tormented, afraid to stay and afraid to go.
But you should go. You should. Agent Gallagher can keep Autumn safe. You’re a risk to everyone.
Autumn reached out and took his hand, and for some reason, it made a needy wail rise in him. He pushed it down. He’d never heard that sound before, and it made him want to run away. He wanted to grab on to her, claw at her, pull her close, meld himself with her. To fuck her and fuck her until he finally feltrelief.
He stood, her hand dropping, her expression startled. “I’m going outside,” he said, the sentence streaming together into one long, mostly unintelligible word. Before she could reply, he turned and walked to the sliding glass doors andthen out onto the deck.
He leaned against the railing, the same way he and Jak had done the day before, staring out, mostly unseeing, into the choppy water. It had rained earlier, and the air was still misty, dew sparkling on the midmorning grass. That same wail rose inside, turning into a growl. He was a monster, and though he’d stuffed the most fearsome part of his dark soul down, it wanted out. It wanted free.
He focused on his breath, in, out, lowering his heart rate as he’d been taught to do.Calm. Steady. One operates best when one is in control of one’s functions. Sharp. Deadly. Unaffected.
The words that wound through his mind had been given to him, but he needed them now to restrain his roiling emotions.
He caught sight of a bird and watched as it landed at the side of a puddle, flapping its wings as droplets flew out into the air.She was right to bring you to nature to heal, Jak had told him when he’d described the fishing cottage and the way he’d sat on the deck and walked in the woods.Nature reminds us of our place on the earth. It reminds us of what it means to be human.
Maybe.
But Sam still didn’t know if he was human. Maybe all the chemicals, all the metal and plastic and who knew what else had altered his very DNA to such a degree that he was more machine than man. Jak had been talking about a different sort of healing than bullet holes or stitched-up skin. But Sam didn’t know how to measure any other type of healing than that.
The sliding glass door behind him opened, and he turned to see a blur of dark hair barreling toward him, Superman cape flying out behind his miniature body.
Before Sam could brace for impact, the little thing latched onto Sam’s leg, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a monkey on a tree. Sam frowned down at him, waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. The little monkey’s grip grew tighter. Sam lifted his leg, giving it a shake to see if he could dislodge the thing. A peal of muffled laughter rose from the place where the kid’s face was planted just above Sam’s knee. If Sam bent his leg and kneed the kid, it would injure him. His knee was made of steel. He gave his leg another small shake. This time, the peal of laughter was louder as Eddie leaned his head back, gazing gleefully up at Sam.
Sam’s confusion increased.What does this kid want?
He shook his leg harder, and Eddie shrieked with delight. Something loosened in Sam, that monster wail fading.He wants to play.
