Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1

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Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 Page 38

by Amy Cook


  “What happened next.” He could tell she didn’t agree with their views, but was pushing her anger aside so she could hear the rest of the story. He fought the urge to smile at the stubborn set to her jaw, the fire in her eyes.

  “It didn’t work. The test tube babies survived longer than the original experiments but when two months along, they failed, bodies breakin’ down. So the woman scientist stepped up the game. She began injectin’ herself with the serum, then implantin’ the babies in her own body.”

  “Did it work?”

  “No. And she didn’t take it too well. She worked endlessly, never restin’ until she collapsed. The dude decided he was done tryin’ the experimentation, begged her to stop, too. Said she was goin’ mad. She promised she would stop and they let the matter drop. Only she didn’t stop. Since she had an endless supply of his…” He flushed, rubbing his neck. “His, uh, contributions, in a nice little ice bank to tap into whenever she needed, she continued her experiments without him. After months of failures, she tried one last desperate attempt. She kept takin’ the serum daily, implanted a perfectly normal Clean embryo in her gut, then when she was four months along she purposely approached a rabid they had contained for testin’.” Amiel’s mouth dropped open.

  “She got pregnant, and then infected herself?” He nodded.

  “Welcome Charleen to the world.”

  “It worked?”

  “Pretty shockin’, huh? After infectin’ herself she disappeared, takin’ the research with her. They found her holed up in a cave twelve years later, with Charleen, the first successful Hybrid.”

  “That’s amazing. Is she…” She hesitated, twisting a long strand of hair with her fingers. “I mean, obviously Cajun must love her since they are engaged, so she must be pretty…normal, right?” Harley stared at her for a moment before letting out a deep laugh. She flushed, embarrassed.

  “She’s ‘bout as normal as y’all could get under those circumstances I guess. She’s, well, she’s Charleen.” He shrugged, as if that answered everything. To him it did, to Amiel it just confused her more. “She had a screwed up childhood,” he supplied. “Well, a screwed up life, really. But I don’t think many people can escape havin’ a screwed up life these days. And she’s got Cajun now, so she’s good.”

  “So, Charleen was the first. And they sent her out to find volunteers for more? As horrid as it is, why not just grow more?”

  “For one, they didn’t understand all the details of how Sia made it work. She refused to share the details with anyone, still won’t.”

  “Charleen’s mom?”

  “Yeah. Don’t let her hear you sayin’ that though.” He smirked. “Charleen has a complicated relationship with her mama.” He watched a curious play of emotions slip across Amiel’s face, and he had the feeling that she knew something about mommy issues. He grunted. The world seemed to be full of mommy issues today.

  “She’s still sane enough to communicate her research? I thought Rabids were, you know, crazy.”

  “The serum worked well enough to keep her sane to a certain degree. She’s still crazier than a bed bug, but she’s not as wild as regular Rabes.”

  “Does that make her a Raider?” He paused, unsure if he should acknowledge the existence of Raiders to her or not. He did a mental shrug, figuring there was no reason to deny it when she clearly had some knowledge of them.

  “Somethin’ similar, I suppose. Good guess. Though we aren’t really sure where Raiders are croppin’ up from, or the exact details of their DNA yet. Anyways, Raiders are a whole other story, kid. Y’all are gettin’ off the subject train here.”

  “Sorry.” She blushed. “You were giving me reasons for them not growing more babies.”

  “Right. Reason two is that they’d have to wait for the babies to grow up. They were lookin’ for a faster solution than that, I think.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I didn’t think of that part.” She grinned sheepishly. “So she came and got you, because Cajun had cancer and would make a good subject for experimenting on, and you went along to look after him.” Harley glanced at her in surprise.

  “What makes you think that? Maybe I went along to join up.”

  “Because you risked your life to protect a girl that you didn’t know, simply because your father asked you to. You followed your brother to a new place, taking care of him and working hard to earn money for his treatments and to survive. You are too loyal and good to send your own brother off into uncharted territory, with complete strangers, especially while he was still battling cancer,” she replied factually. He blinked, thrown off guard by her acute and favorable deduction of his character. Unsure how to react to that, he rolled his shoulders, sinking further into the chair. He folded his arms across his chest, hiding clenched fists as they started their telltale post Collapse shakes.

  “Anyways, she came and got us, and we went back to Foundation with them. We went through all sorts of boring and random things that I won’t mention, lots of people died along the way, and eventually Cajun joined up as the second Hybrid to actually survive.” He shrugged. “It only made sense for me to join up with him.” She smiled as though she knew there was more to that story, but let it go.

  “Back to the night you saved me. You said you were trained to beat up creeps in the night. So your job with Foundation is to kill the infected, and keep the streets safe from thugs?” He shrugged again. Technically the thugs weren’t part of his job description, and technically fights with Cleans were prohibited. But criminals weren’t exactly off limits either. Most of the time Foundation simply looked the other way if a criminal on the street turned up dead now and then. As long as you weren’t randomly running around killing innocent people, or mass amounts of thugs even, Foundation ignored it.

  “You also called yourself a sort of boogie man. Somehow I get the impression that you don’t think too highly of yourself, Harley Coaver.”

  “Course I do. I’m amazin’.” Her brow rose, silently challenging him on his reply. He sighed tiredly. The after effects of the Collapse were starting to drain him quickly now. He’d have to shut down for a few hours of sleep, soon. “It’s other people that don’t think too highly of me, kid.” She hesitated, pieces of the puzzle shifting together in her eyes as she thought out loud.

  “Darvey told me you were a part of a gang. That you all had tattoos on your necks. Out in the hall earlier he called you a Hybrid, so he clearly knows about your DNA. He threatens you with Foundation as though he has power there, which means he must be an employee of sorts. All of which explains some of the bad blood between you.” She paused, allowing him to disagree. He remained quiet and she hesitantly continued. “He told me you were known for your temper, and that you were dangerous.”

  “Darfunkle is full of…hot air.” He caught himself before he cursed.

  “Joyce from the diner told me that she had seen a girl with the same tattoo on her neck that Darvey mentioned. Said she was a beautiful short haired blonde woman with an angry cold stare, and she was covered in blood.” Harley grunted.

  “Probably Charleen.”

  “Oh.” She paused to consider that, eyes wide. “Is the part about the tattoos true?”

  “Everythin’ you said was true enough,” he replied tightly.

  “I disagree with that. All I have seen from you is kindness and goodness. If you are dangerous, I would be willing to bet it is only to those who deserve it. Even when you were in pain, you never hurt me.” Harley’s eyes shot back to hers, finding nothing but sincerity in their depths. He was finding that no one could accuse Amiel of not being honest with her thoughts and feelings.

  “Don’t go gettin’ any ideas ‘bout me kid. I ain’t no role model.”

  “Maybe. But you aren’t a monster, either. Monsters don’t do the things for people that I’ve seen you do.” He grunted, looking away. “Whether you were doing it as a promise to your father or not, most people wouldn’t have bothered to babysit a clueless girl even then. Your father is cle
ar across the country, he would never know.” He had no reply for that. “Despite your efforts to argue the contrary, you have to admit it, Mr. Grumpus. You are in very real danger of being an all-around nice guy. The rough edges just add to the charm.” She grinned triumphantly, winking for added measure. He shook his head, but couldn’t completely quell the answering smile brought on by hers. She was a little bit like Cajun in that way. She sobered, glancing toward the neighboring wall.

  “So, that thing in the hall with Darvey…” She left it in the air, waiting for him to fill in the rest. He sighed, leaning his head back on the top rim of the chair. The exhaustion was starting to win.

  “Darfart, that pot lickin’ scum bag.” His eyes closed on a yawn as he talked, staying closed even afterward. They were suddenly incredibly heavy. “His twin got a hold of your jacket, and then he barbequed me for dinner.” She said something else to him, but her words seemed far away, just a quiet crooning that pushed him the rest of the way off the cliff of consciousness.

  Chapter 24

  Amiel

  Amiel stretched languidly in her bed. She stared at the ceiling, reorienting herself to where she was. Sitting up quickly, her eyes turned to the chair that Harley had fallen asleep in. It was empty. Climbing out of bed she looked in the bathroom, then the kitchenette. He was gone. Her eyes fell on a piece of paper on the counter top, a note scribbled on it.

  “I’ll be back.”

  His no nonsense to the point promise made her tummy flutter. She was both happy that he’d be coming back, and nervous, too. She’d cleaned the guy’s wounds, fed him raw fish, wrestled his limp weight across her floor, and unintentionally seen him naked several times, yet she still found herself giddily nervous being around him. If anything, she felt more so now than before. She moved back to her bed, intent on cleaning up the apartment to distract herself while she waited. Amiel yawned loudly, glancing at the clock on the wall. According to that, she’d been napping for four hours. Her eyes fell once more on the chair he’d slept in, wondering how long he’d been gone, and how soon he’d be back.

  She smiled at the way his features had slowly smoothed out, softening, when he fell asleep during their conversation. He was always so intimidating, but when he slept she could see some of the hidden youth in him. Tandy had told her once that Harley was only a couple years older than her. That was difficult to remember when talking to the guy, face to face with all of his brooding seriousness and strength. It had been nice, being able to see some of that peaceful youth in him. Pulling her gaze away she moved about the room collecting the trash that had built up over the last few days. Cleaning was her best mode of thinking, and with all the things Harley just spilled out on her, she had a lot of thinking to do. She went over a mental list of what she knew about him.

  Harley had put his life on hold, taking his brother wherever was needed in order to get him the treatment that would mean his survival. He’d clearly taken on a hard work load in order to earn money that he and Cajun needed to survive, along with trying to provide money for Cajun’s treatments. She imagined with the health issues Cajun had, he’d been home sick most of the time while Harley picked up all the responsibilities. He was a true brother, loyal and always there when his family needed to lean on him. And Tandy had trusted him with the responsibility of caring for his ill son when he could not. Harley did exactly what Jaron would have done for her if the situation called for it, and vice versa. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Harley was a good man.

  She thought back on everything Harley had told her about Hybrid origins. Just like the first time she’d heard it, her mind was blown, thrown into complete disarray. Charleen’s story alone was amazing. She hoped she’d one day be able to meet the woman, and yet dreaded it, too. She now had the mental image of Joyce’s story imbedded in her mind every time she thought of Harley’s soon-to-be sister-in-law. Knowing she had been raised by an insane rabid mother for the first twelve years of her life, and the rest of it had been devoted to being used as a weapon…it all had to take a toll on a person. She couldn’t be without feeling or pain, no matter her origins. The life she had lead thus far must have been torturous. Though Amiel knew next to nothing about Cajun, she was glad that he was in Charleen’s life now. She looked forward to meeting Cajun as well, to meet the guy that had helped her take care of Harley when she had no one else to turn to. She also felt that Cajun was a huge chunk as to who Harley was.

  Amiel grabbed her overloaded trash bags, heading for the door. She doubled over half way there, cramps kicking her butt. She’d started her period the day before Harley woke up. As if mother nature’s monthly gift wasn’t a pain in the butt enough as it was, it had to show up at the most inconvenient time possible. Especially when trying to put on a happy face and act like there wasn’t a war zone in her gut. Explaining to your naked male house guest that you are doubled over in pain because of your period is awkward to say the least. Having your period while wondering if said naked house guest was going to pop up and eat you was even more awkward. Of course, at some points of the discomfort, she may have welcomed him eating her. The cramp finally eased up and she walked the rest of the way to the door. She startled as a knock came from the other side of the door, just moments before she touched the knob. Her hand hovered over the metal orb, conflicted. It could be Harley, or it could be Darvey. She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath and slid the door open. Peeking out of one eye she had to resist the urge to slam the door shut again. Darvey stood at the door, a downcast expression on his face.

  “Amiel,” he acknowledged her. She offered a weak smile, pulling the door the rest of the way open.

  “Hello, Darvey.” She didn’t bother to hide the tired tone of her voice.

  “I feel I must apologize.” Amiel’s brow rose slightly. “I understand your incredulity on the matter. I’ve acted rather pesky since you moved in.” He rubbed a hand over his neck in a way that seemed awkward and forced, and she was struck by the similarity between the action and Harley’s nervous ticks. It could have been the PMS talking, but she wondered if Darvey might have been trying to emulate Harley’s nervous actions in an effort to endear her to him.

  “I’ve been very stressed at work lately, and I’m sure you’ve noticed the bad blood between Harley and myself. It’s a long story that I won’t bother going into, but I couldn’t bring myself to let things stand the way they were last night. There really is no excuse for my behavior. I just hope that with time you will be able to forgive me for my failings.”

  Amiel said nothing, simply staring and waiting for the next move. She wasn’t going to encourage him by saying he’d done nothing wrong, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she believed this apology anyways. Unfortunately she was also still fighting the urge to feel sorry for the guy. Jaron had always called it a defect in her personality, how quickly she caved to artificial kindness. She clamped down on that inclination, refusing to bow to it. Moving out here was something she’d done in an effort to change who she had been, to make herself stronger. Amiel refused to allow her weaknesses to rule her any longer, she wanted a new life. She couldn’t afford to feel sorry for the guy, especially when he and her friend seemed to feel a deep enmity towards one another. He’d have to do a complete and total 180 in his behavior for her to even consider him believable. Clearly unnerved by her silence, Darvey tried again.

  “Is there anything I can do to prove my earnestness?” he implored.

  “I appreciate the effort to apologize. However, I do doubt your sincerity on the matter. You’ve shown nothing but cruelty to my friend,” she replied firmly. “You’ve threatened him and his job, and you’ve tried to ruin our friendship. I don’t take those kinds of behavior lightly, Darvey.” He rocked back on his heels, as though surprised at the intensity of her reply. Her chin lifted as she silently regarded him, refusing to back down in the least. His jaw clenched, fire burning in those smoky eyes, and for a moment she thought for sure he’d throw some sort of tantrum. Instead he swall
owed, taking a step back.

  “I understand how it must seem. But you don’t know the truth of him.”

  “Actually, I do,” she replied stalwartly. His eyes narrowed slightly, a calculating light illuminating them. Amiel suddenly wondered if Harley would be in trouble for her knowing everything that she knew. Perhaps he’d told her this in confidence. She rushed to cover. “Actions speak louder than words. His actions have shown me his true depth of character, and I can find absolutely nothing that would change my opinion of him.” The calculating light dimmed in Darvey’s eyes, and she breathed an inner sigh of relief.

  “I see. Well, I cannot promise friendship with the man, but I shall endeavor to be kinder to him in your presence.”

  “And your threats about his job?” She didn’t even know what Harley would face at Foundation when he went back, but based on the aggressive display earlier she knew it wouldn’t be pretty. She wasn’t sure if her influence would help the matter at all, but felt the need to try and protect Harley.

  “I have not filed an official report,” Darvey allowed grudgingly. “If that is the price you demand for giving me a second chance, I can give it.” Her eyes widened, feeling suddenly trapped. How had that happened?

  “I did not promise you friendship in exchange for your compliance. Trust must be earned, and that is not something easily won.” Honestly she doubted she’d ever trust him, but what she said seemed to have done the trick. His jaw clenched, eyes still smoky, but he nodded as though taking her answer for what it was.

  “How many times do I gotta flush before you go away, Derby?” Amiel turned at the sound of Harley’s voice, smile stretching wide when she saw him striding down the hallway towards them. He still wore his torn jeans, though her pathetic stitching job seemed to be holding up well enough. He wore a t-shirt bearing the logo of what appeared to be a goofy googley-eyed fish, flopping around on a fishing line. The shirt wasn’t at all his style and fit him too snug to be comfortable with all his muscles, but somehow he still managed to look good. She blushed as his eyes flicked toward her, seeming to do a quick once over. It wasn’t in that way that men do when blatantly checking a girl out, but in an ‘are you still in one piece’ sort of way. She’d take it.

 

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