Page 56
This morning, Remus left early, with Titus and a few guards in tow, and my excuse to visit Will was thwarted by the Alpha’s absence, when I spotted Agatha heading down to the solitary cells. My stomach has been in knots since seeing her go to him, so much so that I couldn’t even finish supper and stuffed most of it away for Will.
Aside from a brief visit from Agatha the other night, when she came to my cell to check whether, or not, I’ve begun to ovulate, neither she, nor Remus, have laid so much as a hand on me. It’s coming, though, I have no doubt. With the healing of my welts, Remus has already assured me there’ll be more of the whip.
Then there’s the other thing … I haven’t started my period yet. Though my cycles have often been irregular, due to my condition, arriving earlier than expected, at times, they’re not usually late. Certainly never this late, which I originally attributed to stress.
I’ve only ever been with Will, and with my faulty uterus, the chances of being pregnant are virtually nonexistent. But if not that, then what else?
I can’t bear to think about being pregnant in this place, this world. Who the hell would bring a child into this on purpose? Who would risk the demise of something so innocent?
It’s a thought I stuff to the back of my head for now, because dwelling on it too much might crush me, and I need my wits about me. I need to stay focused and figure out a plan of escape.
Heart urging me to go to Will, I pace in my cell, eyeing the sun that’s begun to cast an orangey glow of dusk. I need to see him, to know if he’s okay.
Only a few guards patrol inside the prison, but mostly, they watch the perimeter outside. Being a prison, the place doesn’t offer many opportunities to hide away, which I’m sure is what made it a choice spot for Remus and Agatha to begin with.
Approaching footsteps interrupts my thoughts, and worried my plans are written across my face, I plop down onto the bed and snap my focus to something else. Something less likely to make me look like I’m plotting escape.
The first thing that comes to mind is Titus, for whatever reason. If it’s at all possible to get him onboard with helping me, maybe appeal to the part of him that once tried to escape this place, he could serve as a distraction to the guards. He could fend them off just long enough to allow Will and I the opportunity to climb down the rope. But I don’t trust him. Not after what happened in the courtyard, and what Tom told me about him.
It doesn’t make sense that the guards remain loyal to Remus and Agatha, either. Not with the way they’re treated. Maybe I’d have an easier time appealing to them. At least they have something to appeal to.
The stories told of Alphas warn of their stony hearts. Impenetrable and incapable of mercy. I believe it now.
Shadows announce the long, ungraceful strides of a man, and when Jarvis steps into the entrance of my cell, the breath withers inside my chest. His hand is wrapped in gauze that he keeps close to his body, as if to protect it. Pale, damp skin emphasizes the dark circles under his eyes, and the way he sways on his feet tells me he’s weak, perhaps on the verge of passing out.
“Agatha … asked for you.” Breathless words barely carry across the room, while he grips the bars of the cell to steady himself.
“Jarvis, are you okay? You look like you’re not feeling well.” If I had to guess, his arm is likely infected, though I can’t tell through all the bandages. “Can I look at your arm?”
His shoulder shifts as he pulls his arm tighter to his body, but he doesn’t refuse.
At a cautious pace, I pad across the room, and once I’m standing before him, I reach out for his arm. This close to him, I can see his whole body is shivering, can feel it when my fingertips make contact with his elbows.
He jerks back, but I look him in the eyes, nodding with assurance.
His shoulder sags again, his elbow weighing heavy in my palm, and I swallow hard, going to work on his bandages. The cloying scent with each peeled layer confirms my thoughts, and my stomach twists, the closer I get to his actual wounds. If it is infected, I have nothing to give him, no antibiotic, or poultice, as I was taught to make by Nan. Assuming Remus paid for Jarvis, he might be willing to salvage his investment by seeking those out somewhere, but time is not on this man’s side. As I wind the last of the bandage away from his hand, a gurgling rumbles in my gut with the exposure of his fingers that have been eaten down to the bone by some kind of acid. Yellowish pockets of pus ooze from the angry flesh still clinging to the bones. The odor hits the back of my throat while I examine his hands, taking note of the purplish tone of his skin, which might suggest gangrene. Cold to the touch.
His hand will need to be cut off, if that’s the case, because I’m certain, between the debridement his wound would require and the antibiotics to treat the infection, finding the supplies out here would be impossible.
“It’s infected. It needs treatment.”
“And what might … that be?”
Instead of answering, I set to wrapping his hand back in the bandages, winding it as fast as I can to smother some of the foul scent clinging to my nostrils. “I’ll see if Remus can get his hands on some antibiotic.”
“Why are you … doing this? Why did … you try to … help me … when they did this?”
His shortness of breath makes me a bit nervous of septic shock in him. I once helped Nan treat a woman who’d given birth and developed sepsis from Group A Strep. Even with the small bit of technology and access to antibiotics that we had, the woman died.
“I don’t believe humans are inherently bad, I guess.”
“After … what I … did?”
“We’re motivated by different things, Jarvis. Though I can’t say what motivated you to act so stupidly, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
Eyes watering, he snorts a short laugh. “C’mon. I’m not … getting in trouble … again.”
I secure the end of his bandage, my head reeling with thoughts of what tonight might bring. More punishment, I have no doubt. The welts on my back are less tender today, but haven’t disappeared. As I follow him out of the cell, I stare down at the concrete passing beneath my feet. How I wish I could dig myself a hole and disappear, like the girl in a book I read back in Szolen, who could open portals to other worlds. I’d grab Will and disappear from all of this hell.
