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Or perhaps it was just the dizzy, sick feeling that vibrated through my head that kept me still. My senses felt off, as though I were covered in a thick, sticky syrup. Everything felt so slow and heavy, as though my body didn’t belong to me.
“The sleeping gas didn’t completely take effect,” she said, noticing my alert eyes.
Though I was not moving, it was clear that I was still awake and watching her. I made no effort to hide it, staring at her plainly.
“You should be more cooperative next time. I’m going to get what I want. If you work with me, I can make it easier on you. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll have to resort to methods that aren’t so nice.”
I blinked at her and wondered how she could think that letting two men pin me down was supposed to be the “nice” method. I didn’t want to be handled by these strangers, roughed around like this.
Where was Claire? If her people were going to do this, couldn’t she at least keep them from torturing me?
“Claire,” I managed to croak out, a thought suddenly taking root in my brain. “You want me to talk. I’ll only talk to Claire.”
Dr. Grant’s eyebrows raised, surprised to finally hear me speak. “Claire. Why? Why Claire?” Her voice was tinged with suspicion.
“I will only talk to Claire.”
“What happened when she was your prisoner?” she demanded. “Why is Claire so important to you?”
“I will only talk to Claire.” My voice was growing tired, but I tried to sound firm and unwavering.
She scowled at me, an annoyed look on her face. “Fine,” she replied after a moment. “Fine. I’ll bring her soon.”
She narrowed her eyes one last time, looking me over. But she said nothing else. Then she spun on her heel, patting the bag over her shoulder absentmindedly, and walked out the door.
I was alone once more. After everything I had just been through, alone was fine. It felt safer than having the humans around.
I didn’t move from my place on the floor yet, still feeling too dizzy and weak. Everything ached. I was starting to notice a dry, cottony taste in my mouth, and my lungs still burned. I wondered if anyone would bring me water after I had injured the two men. Would Dr. Grant withhold food and drink, as punishment?
I struggled to stay awake, avoiding blinking for as long as I could. I felt like if I gave in even a little, and rested my eyes, I risked falling asleep. The stuff they had used on me was supposed to knock me out, I realized. If I let it take effect now, there was no telling what they might do to me while I was unconscious.
My eyes stung, bleary and tired. I couldn’t give up now. I had to stay awake and protect myself.
But while I waited, I focused my mind on something more pleasant that let me forget the pain coursing through my body. The doctor had said that she would bring Claire soon. I imagined what it would be like to see her again. The daydreams were better than sleep, anyhow.
Chapter Thirteen
Claire
I sat listlessly at home, trying to focus on the television. But my mind swirled with disjointed thoughts that would not be ignored. I had no idea what I wanted to do next, and no amount of distraction would allow me to ignore that.
The night before, after leaving Dr. Grant’s office, I thought that a good night’s sleep would help clear my head. Perhaps it would have, had I been able to rest at all. But I tossed and turned fretfully, unable to soothe myself.
Where was Athos? What were they doing to him? How had I allowed myself to be conned by these people at IMRA into assisting them?
I wanted to see him, and to make sure he was all right. Once upon a time, I would’ve believed that IMRA existed to protect humans, and never would’ve deliberately hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. I had lost that faith, and it was made more difficult by the fact that they had someone I cared for very much under their control.
But I couldn’t just walk back in there and start asking questions. It would raise too many suspicions. Especially since I was supposed to be home, enjoying my leave. The last thing they expected was for me to come back and check in.
They’d never understand my concern for Athos, or why I was so attached to him. And to be honest, I didn’t think I could explain it. Not in a way that they would understand, anyway.
It was clear to me now that I had been misled about the importance of my job. I had hunted an alien that they’d assured me needed to be “taken care of”. But now that I had met Athos, I knew he never posed a threat to anyone.
How many others had I captured, not realizing that I was the bad guy? My life at IMRA had always seemed black and white, with no shade of nuance. I knew, of course, that in the real world, there were many shades of gray. Many people would say that my brother, who’d died of a drug overdose, had set himself up for failure and had no one to blame but myself.
Even as a young child, I had sensed the heartlessness of that sentiment. He was a broken person who chose a dangerous path of self-medication to treat his pain. But that didn’t make him evil, or less of a human than anyone else.
And then my mother, unable to deal with her loss, had killed herself, leaving me an orphan. Once again, I saw the hypocrisy behind many people’s words of comfort. Her grief was somehow a moral failing, and most saw me through the tainted lens that such beliefs made room for.
