Mutation

Chapter 11: The Wolf

Nick let out a shaky sigh once he had hung up the phone, obsessively running his fingers through his hair over and over.

His mind felt as if it was on overdrive, trying to conjure up some sort of a plan that he could use to escape this quagmire that he had become entangled in. But more and more, in the midst of his anxious thoughts, one certainty was remembered. If he knew anything about the way that Mr. Black and his associates worked, he knew that they hated uncertainty and that when they saw weakness, such as Trista's twisted ankle, they immediately and without hesitation carried out the desires of Mr. Black.

A hard, resolute determination welled and gathered itself inside of him. He knew what he must do.

He glanced at Evelyn, her little eyes closed, childish lips parted, asleep on the crook of Laura's elbow.

He slipped his golden ring off his finger and rubbed his thumb across the surface, looking at the clear way it caught the moonlight, bright with sacred promises and stored-up dreams, formed from innocence and passion. All of the things that were lost to him now. But he had one more promise left to give. He gently opened Evelyn's hand, and pressed the ring into her palm, closing it into a fist. He kissed his niece's bronze curls. Oh, God, please. Don't let them hurt her . . .

Nick turned and began to make his way into the forest, following a game trail that had parted the grass like a comb.

The rustle of leaves from behind him caused him to look back once more, but he saw nothing, only the small, red flicker of the campfire between the trees.

He continued on, feeling the same movement of something like fire inside his chest that lifted him up and pushed him forward. It made him think of Laura and Neo, the decent and brave couple that had gathered food and water for all of them, ever comforting Trista, August, and Evelyn, and often surrendering their share of food so that they could have enough. Of Evelyn, and her sweet affection for him and the world around her. For Christie. His friend. His comforter. His bride.

He could not, and would not condemn his beloved and his friends to torturous deaths under a nefarious dictator. He would rather die than do that.

Perhaps he would see Christie soon. Nick began running.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The agent that Nick had been on the phone with told Mr. Black all about the conversation.

"Yes, Mr. Elliott seems to be complying very prudently. I am sure you struck an excellent bargain with him?"

Ignoring the latter comment, Mr. Black replied, "How are they progressing?"

"They are headed west, towards the hills. Neo's daughter has sprained her ankle, so the ambush, I believe, will be easier than expected."

Mr. Black's eyebrows lifted for a moment in surprise, but his usual steely glare replaced it. "And have you been tracking his location?"

"Yes, sir. They are moving West, even as we speak."

"Excellent. Send soldiers immediately."

The man exited Mr. Black's office and started to execute the command. Mr. Black settled in his chair and paused for a moment.

"So . . . Neo has a daughter," he chuckled scornfully to himself. "Why am I surprised? Of course, that stupid little butterfly would want to have children, not even wondering how deeply the serum would affect their DNA. I wonder if they've realized by now she is even more powerful than they are."