Ellyssa offered him a small smile. That bit of communication pleased him. Doc’s grin widened, and his eyes lit. He offered her a glass of water, which she accepted.
“Well, the least we can do is clean you up some. You don’t smell like a flower garden.”
He smiled as he said it, but she imagined he wasn’t lying. The last shower she’d taken had been the night she’d run away.
Doc went and poured some water in a basin and grabbed a washcloth. He set it on the table next to her, then uncovered her. Surprise registered when Ellyssa noticed her clothing had been replaced with a white gown. She had been seriously out of it.
After wringing out the cloth, he began wiping her arms and legs down. When he was done, he stuck the cloth back into the water, wrung it out, and handed it to her. “Why don’t you clean…um…other parts?”
Turning around, the doctor went and stood between her cot and the entrance. Keeping her eyes on the male, she pulled the gown up and cleaned her lower regions. The effort exhausted her more than she’d like to admit. Done with the task, she tossed the cloth back into the basin and cleared her throat.
“Finished?”
She cleared her throat again.
Doc glanced over his shoulder before turning completely around. He grabbed a basin and filled it with water. “We’ll get your hair later. Right now, you need to get some sleep.”
Her gaze darted to the entrance.
The doctor leaned closer. “Don’t worry about anything,” he whispered. “I’ll be sitting right over there.” He pointed at the desk. “When you wake up, I’ll bring you something with a bit more substance.”
He removed the extra pillows and blankets, and Ellyssa settled onto her back. Her eyes followed him to the desk. From the top drawer, he took out a worn hardcover book. Wondering what he was reading, she drifted into sleep.
Rein navigated the long tunnels, his thoughts lingering on the girl they’d saved. Deep down, he knew it’d been dangerous for him to bring her back here; the others had protested, especially after she’d attacked them, but he couldn’t leave her there to die. Her greyish skin, her eye sockets, dark and sunken, her knotted hair tangled into dirty clumps—he just couldn’t do it.
He knew, as soon as he’d seen her, there was something about her. Especially when her eyes popped open, the blue reminded him of parting clouds exposing the sky after a rain. Then, even in her condition, the ferocity of her attack. She was definitely special.
He paused just outside the main hall. Jordan was speaking with the others, delivering orders. The frail frame of the elder stood in the center of room. He beckoned with a thin finger to Terri, a young girl with pretty features. She helped him shuffle to the wooden bench. Grunting, the elder sat and watched as the community worked together, picking up the remaining supply boxes stacked against the wall and moving them into the kitchen and storage areas.
Rein joined him, and the old man’s full lips curled, deepening his wrinkles and exposing missing front teeth. Sweat beaded at the hair-line where his grey dreadlocks hung in clumps around his head, and his dark skin glowed under the fluorescent lights. He lifted a wrinkled hand and put it on Rein’s shoulder.
“How is our guest?” he mumbled, as if speech further tired him.
“She’s awake.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I’m not so sure I am.”
“Why?”
“I think I made a mistake. Her being here can expose us all.”
Jordan cackled. “You did right, bringing her here.”
“She’s not talking.”
“Great, not only is she using our limited resources, but she is refusing to give us information. That’s the reason you brought her here, wasn’t it, Rein?”
Rein swiveled around on the bench at the sound of Woody’s voice.
Woody toted a small wooden crate, filled with ammo, over to Jordan. His ash-blond hair was darkened by the sweat running from his hairline down the side of his face.
He stared pointedly at Rein before setting the crate down in front of their leader. “This is the last.”
Jordan pulled out a small box containing Remington SPC rounds. “Put the rest next to my pallet. I’ll distribute it later.” His black eyes rested on Rein as he handed him the ammo. “Tell our contact.”
“We’re scheduled to meet in a few days.”
“Good.” Jordan started to stand. Rein jumped up and helped the old man to his feet. “And don’t worry about the girl. I trust your judgment.”
Rein smiled, though he didn’t feel he deserved the compliment. If he was wrong, he had risked everyone’s life for nothing. The settlement founded after the Nazis had invaded would fall after all these years. He had known the chances, the possible danger, and he’d ignored the safety of the others because of a gut instinct. And, judging by the way Woody looked at him, his friend believed the same. His grey eyes flashed accusations every time he looked at Rein, like now.
“Would you stop it?” Rein asked, as he watched the old man walk away.
“Stop what?” Woody blinked innocently.
“You know what.”
Sighing, he held his hands up as if in surrender. “Look, Rein, we’ve been best friends since we were kids. I’m telling you she is dangerous.”
“I know. You keep reminding me.”
Rein left the hall, doubt tugging at every fiber of his being. Only this doubt came with fair skin framed with white hair and sky-blue eyes that bore holes into him.
12
Dr. George Hirch entered the experiment room with Leland at his side. Light reflected off the glass cubicles that divided the room, and bounced off the white-tiled floor. Several assistants were busy within the cubicles, where they sat at tables across from his creations.
Sensing his approach, platinum blond heads turned, and four sets of intelligent, azure eyes settled on the doctor as the door closed behind him with a snick. His children were beautiful, like angels—lean, muscular, flawless complexions, hair the color of purity.
George waved, indicating for them to continue with their lessons. All at once, as if connected by a string, they focused their attention back on the assistants.
“Come, Leland.” He paused at the first door, marked Subject 64, and watched Micah. The nineteen-year-old held out his hands and took a silver box. The doctor pushed the red button of the speaker located next to the door.
“What do you see, Micah?” asked the soft voice of the assistant. Dressed in the mandatory lab coat, the assistant leaned toward the young man. Long yellow locks flowed down her back.
Micah’s eyes were closed while he ran his fingers along the box. He turned it over in his hands and felt along the other side. “A female in a black dress. She is crying. Tears are falling down her face. She’s holding a picture of a male—her husband. She places the picture in this box with a wedding ring.” He handed it back to the assistant.
“Good, Micah. Now, what about this one?” She handed him a torn piece of material. Blood spotted the cloth.
“Is that—”
“Shh.” George held his hand up to Leland’s face.
Again, Micah closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb over the material. When he opened them, his expressionless gaze rested on George. “It belongs to Ellyssa,” he said, his voice monotone. “There is green—tall trees, plants, shrubbery. They are streaking by in a blur. She is cold. So very cold. And, she is hurt.” The boy’s face briefly twitched as if he could feel her pain.
“She is searching for something. Kansas City.” Micah’s gaze flicked back to George. “And she is muttering something about you.”
The boy’s strong jaw clenched and unclenched as his stare bored into the doctor. The tiny hairs on the back of George’s neck stood erect. He handed the material back to the woman. “Why is that, der Vater?”