Parahuman (Parahuman Series) (40 page)

     Devan
turned and sprinted for the nearest tree five yards away. Running up the trunk
of the tree about ten feet, he executed a back flip and landed behind the wolf
as it made to follow him up the tree. Devan stepped forward and slammed his
knives into each side of the wolf’s neck slicing down through arteries, sinewy,
and flesh. Blood flowed and the wolf folded sideways falling to the ground with
a dull thud.

     
Standing completely motionless Devan tilted his head back and listened to the
forest. He could detect no sign of the last wolf and its absence led Devan to assume―which
he never like to do―that the animal had a different agenda then the other
wolves. It could possibly be a tracker in the event their prey, him, wiped out
the pack, which he had. Then the animal was to trail him from afar.

     Or it
could be checking in with a nearby handler. If this was the case; how
near
was the imperative question?

     The
forest was eerily quiet of even the smallest animal sound. It was as though
they were all watching and waiting for whatever might come next, all except Laney
who continued chanting, “Please God let him be alright”. Beyond that he identified
another sound in the distance; it wasn’t naturally induced, and it caused a
heaviness to settle in his core that spread out to encompass his entire body.

     “Laney,
I’m all right.” Devan called out as he darted back to the tree.  

     She
made a strangled sound and the chant changed to, ‘Thank you, thank you’; that
is until he came into view and he heard her gasp in horror. It made him aware
of all the blood he was covered in.

     “It’s
not mine.” He reassured her quickly.

     The
alarm in her eyes subsided not one iota. “You’re covered in blood.” She choked
out and started to clamber down the tree. Devan could see that her face was
pinched from exhaustion and worry, and there were more dried tear tracks down
her cheeks. His heart squeezed at everything she’d been through today. 

     “I’m
fine, not a scratch. This is from the wolves.” He assured her. When she neared
the base of the tree he assisted her to the ground.   

     As
soon as she hit the ground Laney turned and her hands began investigating his
body frantically for wounds. Jerking at his shirt she yanked down the neckline
and pulled up the sleeves. When she didn’t find anything she reached down and
tugged up the bottom. As she did her hands grazed his sides and the touch made
him twitch away instinctively. She looked up at him in fearful concern.

     “You
are hurt.”

    “No,
actually that tickled a bit.” Devan declared sheepishly. 

    She
frowned and her gaze and hands returned to examining his abdomen. “So, you’re
really not hurt?”  

     Devan
pulled his shirt up completely revealing bloody but smooth skin. “See, unharmed.” 

      Her
gaze roamed over his torso. “You’re really fine.” She said, sounding like she
couldn’t believe it.

    
Dropping his shirt Devan reached out and brushed at the dried tear marks on her
face, but ended up leaving a small streak of blood instead. He winced at the
sight. That could have been her blood. The wolves had been so close to getting
to her, and it would have been his fault, again.

     “I’m
fine, I promise.” He said gruffly. 

     Laney
sandwiched his face between her hands and forcefully turned his gaze back to
hers. He allowed her. “Don’t you dare.” She said, her eyes fierce. “I know
there’s some kind of blame or guilt going on in your head, but it’s not your
fault. And you need to remember that if you hadn’t been here there’s no telling
what Jarrod might have done to me. You saved me.” The green of her eyes went soft
and warm.

     All
Devan wanted to do was fold her into his embrace and hold her forever;
protecting her from anything that could harm her. She swayed suddenly,
exhaustion flooding her face. Devan held her careful of the blood covering him
and lowered her to the ground.

     “God,
I’m so beyond tired right now.” She said in a weary voice.

     Devan
sat her down against the trunk of the tree. “Rest here.” In the distance Devan
could hear the search party yelling, they were closing in fast. It was quite
likely that they had heard the gun shot minutes ago and were double timing it
this way.

     He
walked over and grabbed the nearest dead wolf and began hauling it away toward
some brush to the east. When they found Laney they would head back toward town
which was to the west.

     “Why
are you doing that?” Laney asked.

     Devan
walked back reaching down for the second dead wolf. “There is a search party
coming this way. I need to hide the wolves until I can do something with
them.” 

     After
towing away the last wolf Devan made his way back over to Laney. Kneeling down
in front of her he took her hands. What little blood he got on her would be
attributed to Jarrod’s broken nose.

     The
tired look in her eyes turned to anguish. “You have to leave.”

     Her
words weren’t a question so Devan didn’t respond. The pain Devan felt was worse
than any wound he could have possibly received from the wolves. Laney struggled
to her knees and made a move to embrace him but he held her arms away. 

     “I have
blood all over me.” There was no way she would be able to explain being covered
in blood. How he wished they could have though, one last time. He touched his
forehead to hers instead. 

     “I
don’t want you to go,” she cried, her breath hot on his skin. More tears
streamed from her eyes.

     “It
seems like I’m always making you cry.” Devan stated helplessly. 

    
“There you go again, taking the blame.” She whispered chokingly.  

     He
inhaled deeply getting a goodbye whiff of her incredible scent, wanting it to
stay with him always, knowing he would never forget it. “Would it make you feel
better if I told you it never would have worked between us?” The thought didn’t
make him feel better.

     “I
don’t believe that.”

    
“Believe me, there are just too many things to list.” The Company, mutant
animals, his own mutation, possible other mutations in the future; and those
were just the central ones.  

     They knelt
there for a long time; their foreheads touching and their breaths mingling. The
last wolf was getting farther and farther away which would result in a longer
pursuit of it, but Devan didn’t care. These were his last moments with Laney
and he wasn’t going to rush them.

     Devan
could hear the shouting of the search party getting ever closer. He knew that
Laney could hear them now because she tensed against him. Looking off to the
east he could see the group, it consisted of three men and a woman. They were
approaching at an angle that would take them south of Laney’s position by a half
mile. He had to go now or they would pass her by.

    
“You’re going to have to yell for them.” Devan said, breaking the silence. 

     She
gripped his hands tighter in response.

    
Grasping her arms he looked down into her grief filled eyes. “They’re to the
south of you, about a half a mile. Call out to let them so they know that
you’re here.” Devan urged. Bending down he gave her one last kiss. Tearing himself
away was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.

    
Rising from his crouched position Devan soaked in her feature one last time;
her almost black glossy hair, the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, pink
lips wet from her tears and his kiss. It was her beautiful green eyes that he
wanted to get lost in though. Lose himself and never be found again. He took a
step back.

    
“Devan?” Those spellbinding eyes entreated him to stay.

     Devan
forced his leg to take another step back. It was torture. “Goodbye, Laney.” Swiveling
on his feet Devan raced away.

     A sob
same from behind him making him falter and nearly causing him turn back, and
though his chest felt like it was being pulverized and ripped out he held his
course. The forest began to blur and Devan blinked to clear the moisture that
was obscuring his sight. Tear ducts that he had long thought dried up spurted
to life.  

     Having
run about a half a mile Devan turned because Laney hadn’t as of yet yelled for
help. He could see her gazing in his direction unable to see him, crying. His
pulverized chest became even more macerated and he unconsciously took a step
toward her, but the movement of the search party halted him. They’d heard her sobs
and were making their way in her direction.

     With
one last longing look at her hunched form, wishing things could have been different,
Devan turned to the south to begin his search for the last wolf.

     A
burning anger settled alongside his desolation. The Company was never going to
give up. If it hadn’t been for the wolves he would have been able to remain in
Silverton longer; been able to actually get to know another person. 

     Not
just any person. Laney; singular, in all ways.

     But
no, The Company had to get their billion dollar experiment back. They wouldn’t
allow him to live in peace, or possible live at all. 

     The
farther he ran, the more distance he put between them, only caused further annihilation
to his heart. His breathing became painful, almost like he had run for hours
when he’d only just begun.       

     The self-indulgent
sentiment of unfairness hit him. Devan knew the feeling was unreasonable and
illogical, but it was still there. If only there was some way things could be
different. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Seventy-nine
hours later

    
I
stood absolutely still in the dark of the woods. The sun had set over three
hours ago but it was still early in the evening, around nine o’clock, and the
temperature was a balmy thirty-eight degrees. Everything was quiet on the
grounds, but I could hear faint noises from inside mostly from a television. It
was speaking on the possibility of making a bullet curve in the air, around an
object.

     I
wasn’t sure what program they were watching, but the prospect of that was nil
to none. 

     I had
been watching the house for hours waiting for the girl to be left alone, but
the man was always there. At the moment the girl was on the couch seemingly
engrossed by the bullet bending television program. During a fifteen minute
period I observed the man get up and go to the kitchen for popcorn, he then came
back offering some to the girl which she refused softly. He went back to the
kitchen and filled a glass with orange juice which he brought back to the girl
setting it on the table next to her. She thanked him but left the glass
untouched. The man then went back to the kitchen, but not to get anything,
instead he sat down at the table and put his head in his hands.

     I
didn’t see any other movement inside the house besides his. Inhaling one more
time I couldn’t find any disturbing scents in the air. All seemed clear.    

     At
around nine-twenty the girl stood up and headed up stairs, calling out a ‘good
night’ to the man. He lifted his head, his expression strained, to return her
‘good night’. He then proceeded to go back to putting his head in his hands. 

     A
light went on upstairs, and then came the sound of running water. After three
minutes the water shut off and the light went out. Footsteps made their way
down the hall and then a light in another room came on. The girl walked past
the curtained covered window twice and then the room went dark. 

     I
crept up to the house cautiously since there was an outside yard light on.
There was an exceptionally large oak tree near the house and its branches stretched
up to and over the roof, as well as the back porch roof. The tree was simple to
ascend and then I walked a branch over to the porch roof and stepped down
noiselessly making my way over to the girl’s window. The roof’s structure was
sturdy and didn’t creak at my weight. You couldn’t beat good craftsmanship.   

     A
look through the window’s sheer curtain’s revealed the girl curled up in her
bed. The covers were pulled up over her head and I could hear soft muffledsobs;
as if she were crying into her pillow trying to hide the sound from the man
downstairs.

     I
reached for the window.

∞                    ∞                   
∞

    
Laney
wept softly into her pillow. For three days she’d stayed holed up at home and been
walking around in a fog or crying her eyes out. She knew she was worrying her
father but she couldn’t seem to pull herself out of the funk she’d fallen into.

     When
Devan had taken off and left her sitting under that tree all she’d been able to
do was cry. The search party consisting of two teachers and the parents of one
of her school mates had converged upon her a few minutes later. They’d been
full of concern, but also filled with questions. The only thing Laney had told
them was that Jarrod had taken her from her house at gun point hauling her
through the woods to a shack in the middle of nowhere.

     They all
knew Jarrod and had been stunned at her declaration. They’d asked if he had
been shooting at her because they heard a gunshot earlier. Laney told them
she’d escaped from Jarrod and had discharged the gun in the hopes that someone
would hear it and come looking.

     For
not having told a lot of lies in her life the falsehoods were rolling off her
tongue.

     The
men had taken turns carrying her back to town. Exhausted from everything that
had happened that day Laney had fallen into a fitful sleep, awakening briefly
whenever they’d transferred her from one pair of arms to another. She’d been
groggily aware of riding in a vehicle and arriving at the small health clinic
they had in town.

     Her
dad had been there looking tired, harried, and anxious, and it had elicited a
few more blubbers from Laney as well as from her father. They’d done a quick
check-up on her even though she’d told them she was okay, just tired.

     The Silverton
police had then asked her a butt load of questions and Laney divulged everything
that had happened…well, everything except Devan and the wolves. When asked how
she’d escaped she—reluctantly—declared that she hit Jarrod with a tree branch
in the face, taken his gun, and left him at the shack after tying him up with
some zip ties that were—coincidentally—found lying around in the shack.

     When
asked if she was the one who’d text the shacks location she hadn’t known what
to say at first. Why would she text a location but not call someone for help?
She’d stumbled out a really lame excuse about having no cell signal at the time
and had typed in the coordinates—coordinates that she’d discovered on Jarrod’s
phone (another coincident)—hoping they would go through, and then she’d had to
tell them that she’d dropped the phone in her haste to get away...like some
B-movie actress in a horror flick.

    
Because of the coordinates Jarrod had been located and brought to town before
she had. He’d been telling people that Laney had gone with him willingly and
that he’d only taken the gun for protection. Laney’s bedtime attire, the
locality of the shack, and several testimonies that Laney and Jarrod hadn’t
been seeing eye to eye weighed more heavily towards Laney’s description of
events, but because she went out to meet him and was basically unharmed, and
there were no other witnesses, it was her version of events against his.

     When
asked why Laney had clocked him and tied him up Jarrod had said that they’d
been getting intimate when Laney had freaked out on him and hit him with
something. He said he didn’t remember too much about getting hit or being tied
up since he was out cold.

     So
now Laney was in limbo about what was going to happen with Jarrod. Laney could
press charges but the police said it would be a difficult case to indict. And
from what Hali was reporting, the town seemed to be cut in half on what to
believe. Most everyone knew both Laney and Jarrod and they didn’t want to
believe that Jarrod could do what Laney was accusing him of, but at the same
time the circumstances looked hokey and why would Laney lie about it.

    
Laney’s dad believed her events of the night, of course, and was incensed with
Jarrod and wanted to press charges. He thought that was why she wouldn’t leave
the house, because she was too traumatized by the entire thing and was afraid
of Jarrod.

    
However, while Laney was concerned about Jarrod, she really didn’t think he was
that much of a threat to her. She thought he required therapy more then he needed
to be locked up. 

     No;
the reason for her depression was Devan, knowing that he was gone and she was
never likely to see him again. Laney was able to keep most of her misery in
check and that’s why she walked around in a fog most of the time, but at night
the wretchedness of his absence overwhelmed her. It was crazy, she’d known him
for only a few short days, but his leaving had created a massive hole in her
chest and she doubted it would ever heal. It might scab over but the wound
would always be there, sensitive to the touch.  

     She
missed him, and she worried if he was safe. There was that last wolf he’d gone
after; what if it had hurt him? Sure, he’d killed seven wolves and hadn’t
received a scratch―and that was still boggling her mind―but he had
been wounded previously by that one earlier in the day.

     What
if he’d been captured by The Company? He said they wanted to dissect him,
basically harvest him. They could have him right now; doing all sorts of
experiments on him. They could have killed him.

     Pain
slashed at Laney’s heart and a sob of anguish burst from her. The worry was
slowly eating away at her.

     A faint
scratching noise broke through the sound of Laney’s sobs. She closed her mouth
and tried to hold her breath afraid her father was outside her door. She didn’t
want him to hear her crying because it would only cause him to fret more. He
was really worried about her and she didn’t want to exasperate it.

     The
scratching continued and Laney realize that it wasn’t coming from the hallway;
instead, it was coming from the window. Wiping her eyes Laney sat up and
narrowed her eyes at the window. Sheer curtains hung over them making
everything look hazy outside. Sweeping her comforter slowly aside she made her
way hesitantly over to the window.

     Abruptly,
it hit her that she was hearing noises outside her window and she was blithely
walking up to it unarmed. She wasn’t going to be that lame B-movie actress for
real, so Laney looked around and seized the nearest weapon; which happened to
be a tennis racket.

    
Standing off to the side the window for safety’s sake, Laney brushed the
curtain aside a crack and peeked out. At first all she saw was the outline of
the old oak trees’ branches reaching up over the house, but then a pair of
glowing yellow eyes appeared in her line of sight. With a squeak Laney jumped
back dropping the curtain, but as soon as she did she berated herself.
It
was only an animal, Sherlock.

    
Laney reached out for the curtain
again to check what kind of animal was strolling around on her roof; most
likely a raccoon or opossum.

    
“Laney.”

     The
sound of a voice had Laney squeaking and jerking her hand back again. Raising
her racket she inhaled for a more substantial scream.

     “It’s
Devan.”

    
Laney’s breath froze mid-inhale.
Devan!
Could it really be? Jerking back
the curtain she stuck her face up to the glass and peered out. Glowing
yellow
eye stared back at her set in a face that was faintly revealed by the outside
light and half concealed by darkness. She would know that straight nose and
strongly cut features anywhere…and those yellow eyes; although, she’d never
seen them glow before.

     Her
heart which had stopped there for a couple seconds started to beat madly.
It
was Devan!

     Unless
she was dreaming. “Devan?” She asked hesitantly. Dropping the racket she
pressed her hand on the windowpane.

     A
hand rose lining up with hers on the opposite side of the pane, a much larger
hand. “Yes Laney, its Devan.” The phantom whispered.

      If
this was a dream she was going with it. Reaching up she unlocked the window and
pushed it open. Then she had to unlatch the screen which took forever because
her hands were shaking. Eventually, she got it removed and Devan folded himself
in through the open window and then shut it quietly behind him. 

     Laney
stared up at him in stunned amazement. She wanted to throw herself into his
arms and hug him to death to make sure he was real, but she also just wanted to
feel his arms around her.  

     The
floodlight from outside shed enough light into Laney’s room for her to see Devan’s
finger tap his lips in a ‘shushing’ action as he pulled an instrument about the
size of his palm from his pocket. Affixing a hearing devise into his ear he
began walking around her room with it pointing it at lamps, light fixtures,
electrical outlets, her phone, and every other nock and cranny.

     Laney
noted that his eyes were no longer glowing; it must have had something to do
with the light outside. She’d seen a faint glimmer of that glow previously but
had convinced herself it was imaginary. Maybe it was another side effect of his
animal DNA.

     After
a minute he returned it to his pocket and walked up close to her to whisper. “I
was checking for listening devices, to see if The Company had put you under observation.”

     Laney
had been so happy to see him that she hadn’t taken into account as to why he
was back in town. While she was ecstatic to see him and it would break her
heart all over again when he left she didn’t want him getting caught. “They
couldn’t have gotten in here; I haven’t left the house for three days.” She
informed him softly.

     “You
sleep though, and it would be very easy for them to come into your house
undetected with you none the wiser. Possibly even pump a little sleeping gas into
the house to aid in their access.” The ominous tone of those words sent a
shiver down Laney’s spine.

     Devan
reached behind her grabbing the extra blanket on the bed. Stepping up to her he
wrapped it around her shoulders holding it together for her. That he’d seen her
shiver didn’t altogether surprise her since she’s witnessed his eyes glowing
just minutes ago, and she was also becoming accustomed his abilities.

     She
breathed in a deep breath taking in his scent. Like him, she would know his
scent anywhere. All the smells of the forest clung to him; the trees, leaves,
and dirt, the sap of pine cones, the mist of the Colorado River, plus a dark male
muskiness that was all his own.