Rustles

Part 18

“If they get out, I’ll hold it on your neck! Your beloved town will be dead and from that day on I will spend my every living hour following you around to see how you cope THEN with those, who die for your puny cause!”

His words were chillingly cold and for a long moment she forgot to breathe.

Hunt slowly pulled away, but not without hitting her chair hard and walked straight to the door. Jameson stood up.

“I saw him, sister, the wildness he attacked you! I agree with Hunt– they must be stopped and if you’re too softhearted to see it, then you’re up for a painful heartbreak!”

They left and she took a deep ragged breathe. She was shivering hard from the damp wind coming from the open door. She turned on her chair and leaned on the table, rocking herself hard to rid herself from the cold and stared outside to the window on the other side of the street.

Everything was going wrong! They were dangerous – she knew this already, the bruises on her neck and shoulders reminded it to her every time she tried to move. If it would’ve been just them, she wouldn’t have doubts not even for a second. But this wasn’t them – it was that gas sprayed on them. Like she had given a fair chance for new life, so should they receive one and if Alex really had a plan that could bring them out of this and give them back a normal life, then who was she to deny this to them?

“I need to talk to Alex.” It was clear as water, yet she didn’t know how. If she showed up uninvited, they’d know something was up. If they didn’t suspect it already from yesterday’s little swerve in the basement.

For a moment it seemed absurd. How could they suspect that? Only if the camera was really working could they know anything. Otherwise, unless she told them, there would be no way they’d know. Alex couldn’t tell them even if they’d beat him – he didn’t know himself!

She cursed lightly and stood. She was too restless to just sit and think. She started pacing instead, but the room was too small and she kept bumping to her bed or table all the time. It wasn’t helping.

After half an hour trotting, cup of coffee she knew she was thinking too small. They were all worried about them getting out and she had to agree – losing them somewhere in the city just because someone opened the gate probably had as good result as letting some tigers go. It would be massacre and if not one inflected by them, then the good-hearted citizens, would create one for sure – they had no idea what they would be against.

She nearly cried – neither did she!

She couldn’t think here. She dressed quickly in blue knee length skirt and sea-colored shirt, put on a pair of open-toes, before grabbing her jumper and heading out. She locked her door, checked she’d taken her mobile and turned, freezing on the spot, eyes straight ahead.

There was a man, climbing silently up the stairs. He was lying so low, his blood dripping right hand grabbing the last step on her floor and the left stretched out behind him, holding on from the metallic staircase.

She thought her chest exploded with no air reaching in her lungs as she stood there and tried not to move or even to breathe. Two weeks ago she’d thought he was one of the art students from the second floor practicing for some performance act. She knew, who it was – not personally, but his dirt covered face was disturbing giveaway.

He wasn’t moving either. Instead he was staring right at her, his white eyeballs screaming from the soil covered face.

She blinked. White eyeballs? That didn’t fit the picture, did it? Like Alex’ gloves. Only this one didn’t stand up or didn’t want to calm her. Instead he was lowering more against the stairs, but the eyes were indeed rested and glowing like stars in the afternoon shadows.