Page 40 of Born Savage

Safe. I wondered if there would ever be such a place or a feeling any longer. Just before I turned away, a line from a movie reel Peter had instructed me to watch continued playing in my mind, fueling fears I’d soon lose control of my faculties.

“There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place…”

Like home.

CHAPTER 8

Star

There was a sudden quiet in the room, usually a sign of impending death. When I looked out in the corridor, I noticed several people waiting to pay their respects. I wanted to scream at them, forcing them to go the hell away.

As if in doing so, I could keep the Grim Reaper from reaching in through the thick walls, gnarly fingers with claws reaching for my mother. But they were her friends and had cared for our family as we’d cared for theirs.

There’d been an expression my father had taught me long before I’d hit puberty.

It takes a village.

I hadn’t understood what that had meant until I’d gotten older. The phrase was a reason we insisted we were living in a village instead of stragglers banding together to survive. But it was really in name only. We were survivors and nothing more, forging an existence instead of really living. Maybe that’s why the passion from the night before had caught me so completely off guard.

My feet were heavy as I walked away from the bed, stopping in the doorway to look back. I would lose her soon and when that happened, my anchor would be shattered.

No. I had to push all thoughts away for now.

Peter smiled as I approached, forever thoughtful, every word carefully chosen before speaking. “Your mother knows how much you love her. You do not need to prove your worth.”

“I wasn’t trying to prove my worth, Peter. I would do anything to make her better. Even you told me that medicine might help.”

Our relationship was different. In my eyes, he was a man to be held in the highest respect, someone I could trust with all things. To him I was a little girl to protect. Even now that I was a woman, he was often required to remind me I wasn’t invincible.

We walked slowly toward his room. I had a million questions I wanted to ask, but in doing so, I’d expose what I’d endured over the last few hours. I couldn’t tolerate being forbidden to leave the compound. It was the one time I felt free.

Seeing his arms behind his back and his mind in a tangled web of knowledge from the past, I remained quiet while we moved from one corridor to another.

“Even as a small child, you were adventurous. A far cry from the first few months where you were mostly catatonic.”

Given my memories only went back until I was about five, it was as if I’d known Peter my entire life. There was a piece missing and for some reason, it seemed very important that I determine what happened during those years.

“I didn’t like being cooped up.”

His laugh was a sound I’d heard from the beginning. Very people found amusement in our world, but he’d tried to provide an anchor that included some sense of joy. “No, you did not. Do you remember when you managed to escape and ended up being protected by a mama bear?”

I stopped walking, trying to remember anything about what had happened. “No.”

He patted me on the back before ushering me into his room. Being in the larger space was magical. He had bookshelves filled with books, phosphorous lights in various colors creating shapes and shadows on his walls. He’d acquired a microscope and testing equipment, scores of photographs he’d carefully tagged and archived. Even reels of information that he’d called movies highlighting a time when families enjoyed being in the Graveyard.

Although that’s not what it had been called then. There’d been names of states throughout the country. Peter had shown me maps, highlighting the different areas, providing vivid stories of culture, living conditions, natural landmarks, and even providing details of different foods and entertainment geared toward the regions. I’d always felt as if I’d been the traveler.

I’d soaked up every scrap of education available, often spending hours reading everything from books of fiction to those on architecture and as I’d grown older, books on medicine and even engineering. Nothing had soothed my voracious need for information.

“Sit, child. We have much to discuss.”

The seriousness of his tone was unusual. I did as he asked, waiting as he prepared tea, one of very few delicacies he allowed himself. I felt honored to share a mug with him.

“The child is special,” he said so quietly I wasn’t certain I’d heard him correctly.

“How do you know?”

His laugh was not to make fun of me, but as if doing so to himself. “You could call my perception a gift, although there would be many who would claim that I’m nothing more than a demon sent to ravage the earth. However, the prophecies do keep me awake at night.”