Enhanced (first draft)

Chapter 10

Cyrus and I are standing awkwardly, both facing the street that Trace just ran away on. Cyrus groans with disappointment. He gathers his fiery hair up with his hand, resulting in various strands tufting up all over. Then he slams a foot down on the cobblestone. The heavy boot on his foot makes a large thud from contact. The image of our attacker's body thumping to the ground crosses my mind, although the only similarity is due to the sound. I don't want to be reminded of how lifeless and limp the body seemed as it made its way to its final resting place.

"I didn't know, you know," Cyrus manages to say coolly. He is starting to regain his composure, and with it is becoming more and more vocal.

He sighs and maneuvers over to the front of a store. The windows are matted with dirt, making it nearly impossible to see inside. The only thing that can be seen through one is a large white sign stating that the store is closed.

Cyrus gently lowers himself down so that he is sitting on one of the steps leading to the store's entrance. His hand quickly makes a gesture as if he wants me to join him. I quickly follow suit and give myself a rest on the same step that Cyrus is on. It feels wonderful to actually give my feet a rest. All of the traveling and running really affects the state of my body. I never get as much rest as I probably need.

"What was that you were saying earlier?" I inquire. My mind had been more focused on other things, mainly Trace's crazed behavior and how Cyrus's action reminded me of the body. I didn't mean to ignore Cyrus, and I hope that he knows that.

Cyrus looks away from me. His gaze appears to settle on the mountains far in the backdrop of everything. I have never truly noticed them from the Inside even though my eyes have probably glance up at them multiple times. It's probably because I was never really nature oriented before, even though I still am not really. I just seem to be more in tune with my surroundings having been on the lookout for things so much.

I stare at the profile of Cyrus's face. The sun almost makes a glare appear on his ghostly skin. It almost hinders my ability to notice something. There are hundreds of little marks, what appear to be tiny scars, all over his face. The largest concentration of them seem to be around each of his major facial features: the eyes, the nose, the mouth. The can be wrinkles, something I've heard about but never seen. Our Enhancements make it so that as our age advances, our skin stay flawless for the most part. Anyways, we don't live up to a point where we really have to deal with wrinkles anyways. I decide not to ask Cyrus about it. It is probably insignificant, and I doubt he realizes that they are there.

"I said that I didn't know about any of this. I didn't know that Xander really wasn't somewhere in the woods, running away from everything he knows. I didn't know that he was in captivity and going to be executed. I would have never suspected that they would have made up the ruse just to get Trace away, but they did. I don't know why Trace thinks that I was in on it, though. He can be a pain in the ass most of the time, but I stick with him. I always would go along with every rescue mission he came up with, no matter how ridiculous or stupid they might have been. And you should have seen some of them. I think that your presence has helped to bring some sense to him. It's probably because he doesn't want to look like an idiot in front of you." Cyrus laughs, mostly to himself. His gaze moves down towards the ground. He fingers little patterns on the cobblestone even though no trace of his marks is left behind.

He takes a steady breath and then continues. "I guess that's the reason why he thinks that I knew of it. I went along with everything, for the most part without question. He assumes I went along with all of his plans because it would just waste time. I would allow him to spend all of his time looking for his brother so he would never find out what truly happened. But that's not why I put up with everything. I did it because I truly care for him. I wanted him to find his brother in his expeditions and even though the plans may have been ridiculous, I had this hope in the back of my mind that maybe they would work. You don't realize how much the search for Xander consumed Trace's mind. Even though it is terrible that Xander is going to die, in a twisted way, it will be good for Trace. He will no longer have to constantly worry about how his brother is doing or stress over whether he will find him. He will no that his brother is dead and there is nothing he can do about it."

I am astounded by Cyrus's passion for Trace. They actually do have a close bond, or at least Cyrus thinks that they do. But I guess that's likely to happen if you are stuck with somebody for months and months on end. I look over at Cyrus. He is trying to swallow back his emotion.

"I know that I am one shitty person. I was exiled from my old home for reasons that I'd rather not repeat. I long to be back there, almost enough so that I would do anything to get back. Being with Trace makes me feel accepted again, but I was truly worth something back then. I care about Trace, but I will abandon him on the spot if an opportunity comes for me to return to my old life. I know that you ran away, but do you ever miss your old life? Do you long for those that you left?"

Honestly, there are moments where I do miss my old life. The only problem is that it is the life where Soren and I were happy together. Not after he changed. There is no way that I could return to that life.

"No I don't," I answer curtly. For the most part it is true.

"What about your husband? You had to love each other at one point. Do you miss him?" Cyrus seems to be eyeing me down. I don't really understand why he is questioning me about this. Maybe he wants to know that we feel the same way about what we had to leave behind. We don't.

"He changed. He became a whole different person and, honestly, I can't care less about him anymore." I have told myself this so many times that I have actually started to believe that it is the truth. It is funny how you can convince yourself of something if you say it enough.

"How can you not miss your old life? You lived a life of luxury. You had everything that you could ever want handed to you as if they were worthless little trinkets! You had your life made, but you abandoned it for this!" Cyrus raises his hands up toward the heavens and waves them around indicating the town and everything around us.

I shake my head slightly. I wasn't expecting him to go on a rant like this.

"You would rather have to walk around in the woods all day searching for a seemingly invisible person? You would rather be attacked by random bands of people that are desperate to kill the people you are with? What is wrong with you?!"

I am starting to become afraid of Cyrus. He seems to be a little ... passionate about the subject to say the least. He is using large gesticulations while he is talking, and his voice grows louder and louder. I am about to say something, but Cyrus starts talking, no nearly screaming, again.

"Oh, wait, that's right. You want to 'protect' your child. You want to risk her health when she is born so that she won't be beautiful or oblivious of the terrible world around her. You want her to be burdened every day with the knowledge that she may very well die or be kidnapped just because people feel like it. Your perceptions are skewed just as much, if not more, as the people that you ran away from."

I am at a loss for words. Cyrus's acid tongue poisons me with doubt. Maybe I am wrong about what I have done. But then I think back to the day before I ran away. I am sure that this is best for my daughter. "You don't understand," I quietly say looking away from Cyrus.

He laughs, sounding as if he has given up on me. "You're right, I don't."