Defector

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Defector Page 19

by Susanne Winnacker


  I pulled back. A tall, heavyset man with a bald head and seedy yellow eyes stood in the doorway. The resemblance to Penny was undeniable. I tore myself from Devon’s embrace and moved without actually realizing what I was doing. But suddenly I was in front of the man, and my fist collided with his cheekbone with a satisfying pop. He had given my mother his drug—and the bruises. I didn’t dare to consider what she’d done in return for the spittle.

  His eyes rolled back, and he hit the door—which was thrust shut upon impact—before sinking to a heap on the ground. He held his cheek, a stunned expression on his face. Penny shook off her stupor and knelt beside him. “You all right?” She touched his arm, but he pushed her away. Hurt flickered across her face, but it was already gone by the time she straightened.

  “I’m fine. Get Benny,” he snarled. “He can kick the bitch out.”

  “If you throw me out, I’ll immediately tell the FEA about your existence,” I said in a thick voice. I hoped I’d managed to sound stronger than I felt.

  He bared his blood-covered teeth in a terrible jack-o’-lantern smile. His eyes squinted at me. “If you weren’t on the run from them, you wouldn’t be here, girl.”

  I took a step closer to him. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but his gaze stayed frozen on my eyes. A horrible look of recognition crossed his face, as if he’d seen them before, and his entire face went white. “Your eyes,” he muttered, then he shook his head. “No. That’s impossible.” He stumbled to his feet and stared at my mother. “Heather, what the fuck is going on?”

  My mother raised herself up on her elbows, blinking dazedly. “Stanley?” The word was drawn out like a long sigh. Her eyes brushed over me without recognition. She didn’t know who I was. But in that moment, I wasn’t even sure she knew who she was. Heat gathered behind my eyeballs. Why did she still have the ability to make me angry? Why did I still care about her after all she’d done? Why couldn’t I stop loving her when she had never as much as cared about me?

  Stanley tried to walk past me to get to the bed, but I stepped in his way. I was a full head shorter than him, and he tried to push me away. His hands collided painfully with my collarbones, and I lurched to the side, barely keeping upright. Devon gripped his arm and twisted it, but Stanley swung a fist at him. In a swift move, Devon ducked, so the knuckles only grazed the top of his head, and he landed a punch in Stanley’s stomach. The man gasped and stumbled and had to catch himself on the shabby wardrobe. He panted, his face red. Penny came forward and gripped his forearm. “Dad, that’s enough. We don’t need any more trouble.”

  “More trouble?” he cried and pointed a shaking finger at me. “I’m not the one causing trouble. That girl is trouble worth a lifetime!”

  Penny stared at me, but she didn’t seem to make the connection.

  “I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. She’s one of his spawns.” Fear and disgust played out on his face, fighting a battle for which was the stronger emotion.

  Penny seemed to know exactly who the word “his” referred to. Her eyes grew wide, and she started tracing the words of her tattoos like a spell that would give her consolation.

  I glanced down to where my mother was struggling to get into a sitting position. The strap of her flimsy nightgown slipped off her bony shoulder, and the neckline plunged. I leaned over and helped her to lean up against the headboard before I put her strap back in place. Her brown eyes darted over my face, and panicked recognition settled in them.

  Mom glanced down at herself like she only now realized the sorry state she was in, and her face crumpled. I wrapped my arm around her back and pulled her up to her feet, taking care that the nightgown covered her. “Come on, Mom. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve pissed the bed again,” Stanley growled.

  “One more word,” I said harshly, “and I swear I’ll call my father and have him take this place down.” I couldn’t do that. At least not without revealing myself to him. And even then I wasn’t sure he cared about me enough—or at all—to do me any favors.

  But from the terror on Stanley’s face, he believed I could. I relished the feeling of triumph, but my mother grew heavier in my arms, her legs giving way. “Is there an antidote to whatever she’s on?” I asked.

  Stanley glared at me, but Penny replied, “Yes. I can pick up a vial.” She quickly slipped out of the room, and he followed her without another word.

  Devon came up beside my mother and me. “Do you want me to help?” His eyes were soft and sad but also pitiful.

  “No,” I whispered. “I can do this alone.” I could tell that he didn’t believe me. “Really,” I said firmly. Penny returned with a tiny plastic vial. “Just make her drink this, and she should be back to normal within a few minutes.” I took the vial and pushed it into my pocket. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  Penny opened a small door beside the wardrobe. I led my mother inside. There wasn’t much room. The seams between the white tiles were yellowed and partly black with mold. There was a shower cubicle, a toilet, and a sink, which left a center space with hardly enough room for my mother and me to stand. Penny hovered in the door, uncertainty coloring her face. “I don’t need help,” I said again, loud enough so Devon could hear it too. He seemed reluctant to let me deal with this by myself. “If you want to help, could you please get some clean clothes for my mother?”

  Penny snapped out of her stupor and nodded resolutely. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” With that, she closed the door and left me alone with my mother.

  My mom hadn’t said a word to me yet. Maybe there wasn’t anything to say. I closed the toilet lid and made her sit down on top of it. Only when I was sure that she wouldn’t topple over did I let her go. I tilted her head back and brought the vial to her lips. She gulped down the liquid without protest. She was probably used to being given the antidote. Who knew how often she’d overdosed on spittle or whatever else they sold around here.

  I pulled the shower curtain back—it was clammy and yellowed—and rinsed the floor of the shower with hot water. From the corner of my eye, I could see my mother watching me. Her head was still bowed, but I could feel her eyes on me through the fringe of her eyelashes. Maybe it was my imagination, but she already looked less dazed than moments before.

  “I’ll help you undress now, okay?” I said. She didn’t react, and I took it as silent permission. I was glad that she was wearing only her nightgown and panties. She let me pull the gown over her head and even raised her arms on her own. Our eyes locked as I threw the garment to the ground. “You’ve grown,” she whispered. Her voice was like broken glass, but at least she was talking, and her words were intelligible.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I reached for her last piece of clothing, but she shook her head. “No. I . . . I . . .” She trailed off, embarrassment twisting her hollow cheeks. I stepped back, bumping against the door to give her room. Her movements were clumsy and slow, and as she bent over to push her underwear past her knees, she almost fell forward. But I didn’t embarrass her by helping her any further. She gripped the edge of the tiled shower cubicle and slowly stepped inside. She leaned against the dirty tiles, face drawn from exhaustion. “Why don’t you kneel down?” I suggested. A blanket of numbness seemed to settle over the emotions raging war inside me, and I was glad for it.

  She sank down, her bony knees hitting the shower floor with a thud. It must have hurt, but her face didn’t show a sign of pain. I turned the water on, making sure it was hot enough, just on the verge of unbearable. I knew she was always cold after waking from a drug daze; the effect probably wasn’t so different with Stanley’s spittle. She let out a small sigh when the hot stream hit her back. I massaged shampoo into her hair, and she relaxed into my touch. She looked small and vulnerable with her shoulder blades peeking through her skin. The only towels I could find were in a heap on the floor. I picked up the cleanest of the bunch
and wrapped it around my mother.

  “What’s taking so long? I want answers!” Stanley bellowed from the bedroom. Penny’s soothing voice followed his outburst, much calmer and quieter.

  “Why do you let him treat you like that? You deserve better,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Mom’s fingers curled over my shoulder to steady herself, water dripping down her neck. “We both know that isn’t true. I deserve this.”

  I searched her eyes. Was she sorry about the way she’d treated me? “Nobody deserves that,” I said. She’d treated me almost as horribly as her changing boyfriends had treated her. She hadn’t hit me or physically abused me, but her silent treatment, hurtful words, and disgusted looks had left their scars, too. “I don’t get it. Why do you always choose such assholes?” She didn’t reply. Maybe she didn’t know the answer.

  I pushed those thoughts aside and guided my mother back into the bedroom. Stanley, Devon, and Penny were there, each one standing apart from the others. Devon pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against.

  “Out,” I ordered, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Penny grabbed her father’s arm and dragged him out; Devon followed with a sympathetic look at me. I couldn’t help but wonder how Alec would have handled the situation, but I knew it was no use dwelling on that.

  As promised, Penny had found my mother’s clothes. They were spread out on the bed, and though they could have used ironing, they were clean. “Do you live here? Or do you have an apartment somewhere else?” I asked.

  I peeked through the curtains down at the parking lot to make sure we weren’t about to get any unwanted visitors. A few more cars had parked there by now. I heard my mother’s breathing grow labored from the effort it took her to dress herself. “I had a place, but I lost it a while back,” she said, frowning like she was struggling to remember when that had happened. She probably hadn’t paid rent. It had happened before and had led to a few middle-of-the-night moving schemes when I was a kid. From what I’d seen so far, I didn’t think she earned any money here at Stanley’s. I wasn’t even sure if she was in a state to work on a regular basis.

  When she was finally dressed, she sat on the bed, hands clutching the crumpled sheets. Her eyes were glued to me. I rubbed my hands, feeling out of place. “I know about my father. I know who he is.”

  If the news shocked her, she hid it well. Maybe the constant use of drugs had messed with her ability to show emotions. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 27

  Her words stung in my chest like acid, but I tried not to let it show. “I know. You made it perfectly clear the last time I called that you don’t want anything to do with me. And don’t worry, this isn’t a mother-daughter reunion. I’m not asking anything of you, I just need some information.”

  She blinked. “I said that for your own protection,” she said. I scoffed. “It’s true. I was worried that—this place isn’t safe. People will recognize you here.” I didn’t believe that was the only reason. She’d barely been able to stand my company when we’d still lived under the same roof.

  “Why worry about me now? Were you worried about me when you ignored me for days when I was too young to get it, when you told me I was a freak and that I disgusted you, when you were relieved that the FEA finally picked me up and took me away?”

  Her gaze settled on my eyes. “You’re right. I was glad when you were gone.”

  There it was: the admission. Of course, I’d always known it, but hearing the words from her mouth hurt more than I’d thought they would. I should have left it at that, should have steered the conversation toward something that could lead me to Holly, but I couldn’t. “Why?” I croaked.

  “Your eyes,” she said quietly. Something dark flickered on her face. “They reminded me of your father. They reminded me of a past I wanted to forget. I thought I could leave it all behind, especially your father. I once loved Abel, a long time ago. He was smart and charming and kind. He was so charismatic, almost nobody could resist him. He just had something special about him, something powerful.”

  I frowned. Then why had she left him? She watched my face for a reaction before she continued. “I’m sure you don’t remember, because you were just a baby then, but it wasn’t always easy with Abel. He had his good sides, but the one thing I wanted most was the one thing he couldn’t deal with: normalcy.”

  That was something I could understand. I’d often longed for a normal life, but my childhood had been far from it. Maybe my mother and I were more alike than I’d known. But maybe she and Abel were more alike than she wanted to admit. Because despite her desires, normalcy definitely wasn’t something my mother had ever accomplished.

  She continued in a soft voice, “He and I wanted to live a life without the FEA’s supervision. They took away our choices, our freedom, and gave us rules that your father didn’t agree with. We made the decision to run away. He wanted to try it for me, to build a normal family, live a normal life. Well, that was my dream when we left.” She paused, her expression wistful. “And at first it looked like it might work. But I could tell that your father struggled with normal life. He didn’t know how to function in normal society. And he didn’t feel safe on his own. He thought the FEA would come after us at any moment and lock us into their prison for treason. Then his brother—your uncle— came to town. He’d been on the run from the FEA for years, and he convinced your father to work alongside him, for rich businessmen. Your father knew he needed money if he wanted a chance to build a safe place for Variants away from the FEA, away from the crushing grip and the watchful eyes of the FBI. He didn’t want to be used anymore.

  “I didn’t know much about their work. I was scared to ask. I think Abel got in over his head with his brother. It got harder for him to reconcile his ideals with his work, but he never stopped trying. I think that was what I admired most about him. And when your father’s brother started to spend all his time with us and began talking about building their own group, a group that would destroy the FEA, I tried to talk Abel out of it. I pleaded with him to stop the madness. But his brother had too much influence. Abel thought he was doing the right thing. There was no reasoning with him. Your brother had already showed signs of a Variation, and I knew that Abel would never let him go. But for the first few years of your life, you seemed to be normal. I can’t tell you how much I wanted that. And so I took you, and I ran. I don’t think Abel ever followed us, but I was always careful not to stay in the same place for too long, just in case.”

  “But then my Variation began to show,” I said.

  My mother nodded. “I knew I’d been stupid to think there’d ever be a normal life for us. I can’t tell you how often I regretted running away from Abel, but at the same time I knew I couldn’t return to his life. It would be too dangerous for the both of us. I wanted normalcy, safety, even just the pretense of it. If Abel had found us, I knew I’d have been too weak to resist him.”

  “So that’s why we always moved?”

  “Yes. That and the FEA.”

  “The FEA? Why? You didn’t seem to mind when they took me away.”

  “You would never be free with the FEA. I knew that. They promise a virtuous life, but they keep their agents in a golden cage. I didn’t want that for you. But once they found us, I had no choice but to let them take you. Major wouldn’t have listened even if I’d said no. Maybe I should have called Abel then, as I’m sure he would have taken you in before the FEA could, but I didn’t want to admit to him, or to myself, that my life was in shambles. I should have known that my plan was doomed. You’re either with the FEA or with Abel’s Army. At least that’s what I thought back then. I didn’t know of the many Variants living in the underground, far from the FEA’s radar. But with your eyes, we couldn’t have kept your identity a secret for long.”

  “I could have taken on another appearance,” I said.

  “For weeks?” she sai
d skeptically. “Forever?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been on a mission that took weeks to complete.”

  For a long time, my mother looked at me. “That wouldn’t have changed much. I still can’t change my appearance. They would have recognized me.”

  “But you could have made yourself look younger.” The lines around her eyes and mouth were even deeper than I remembered them. She hadn’t used her Variation in a while.

  She touched the crow’s-feet with her fingertips. “When I left your father, I swore never to use my Variation again. I’d seen what people like us can do, but I’d also seen what it does to them. I didn’t want to be like that anymore. I wanted to be normal.”

  “But you were an FEA agent once. You had a home at headquarters, a future, a job. Why didn’t you go back there? Wouldn’t that life have been better than sharing your life with drunks and spending the nights passed out from drugs?” She winced. My words had been harsh, but they were the truth. We both knew it.

  “You and I would have belonged to the FEA. I’d have had to use my Variation whenever they wanted, however they told me to. I wanted to be free. That was all that mattered to me.”

  “Even more than your own daughter? Don’t you think my life would have been easier if I didn’t have to grow up around endless beer bottles and a string of violent guys?”

  Her eyes were fierce. “Maybe. But I was selfish back then. I still am. But you’re on the run from the FEA now too, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “I found out that I can’t trust them. They had someone I trusted more than anyone keep an eye on me with his own Variation—he was reading my emotions to see if I was stable enough to be an agent.”

  “You really liked that boy, didn’t you?” she said in a resigned voice. I wasn’t sure how she knew. Maybe my expression or voice had given me away. Or maybe she had enough experience with heartbreak to recognize it instantly.

 

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