Astrid shuffled her feet awkwardly. “I’ll give you privacy,” she said, before making her way back to her mattress. This time she sat with her back to Thomas, put her face on her knees and covered her arms around her face. Thomas looked at her back, confused by this type of privacy, but realized it was all they had. He removed his shirt, pulled his pants down around the chained ankle on the bed and set about washing himself for the first time in weeks. He trimmed his overgrown beard, soaped his face, and did the best he could at a clean shave. The water became a dingy soup, and he realized that he’d forgotten to wash his hair. He pulled his pants back up.
“Astrid, I’m sorry to ask this, but could I get some fresh water for my hair? I didn’t do this in the right order.”
Astrid turned to him and stopped, her face flushing with embarrassment.
Thomas had his pants up, but his chest was bare.
Astrid dropped her head, rushed in to scoop up the tub, trying not to look at Thomas’s half naked form and quickly disappeared up the stairs.
“Jesus Christ, Thomas! What are you thinking!” he muttered to himself. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his shoulders before she came back down.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said when she returned. “I wasn’t thinking.” He looked up into her face trying to catch her eye, but she avoided him by turning her head down and away.
“No. I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have helped you. Hold this.”
Astrid handed the tub to Thomas, then moved beside him, gently tilting his head over the tub and cupping the water onto his head. She soaped her hands and began washing his hair gently and carefully as not to get water in his eyes. When she finished, she took the tub and carried it upstairs. Thomas looked up at her as she left, eyes wet, not from the water but from the first compassion and kindness he’d been shown in a long time. And coming from her, a girl who didn’t even have a bed.
Astrid returned, bearing fresh sheets.
“Let me cut your hair first,” she said, picking up the comb and scissors. She combed out the tangles in his hair and cut the long locks to a more manageable length. When she was finished, she removed the sheets, swept up the hair, and put the clean sheets back on the bed for him. She disappeared up the stairs again.
Astrid was gone for a long time. When the familiar footsteps sounded at the front porch, she scurried back down and found her place on the mattress.
Sigmund sensed a difference right away, stopping midway down the stairs before descending the rest slowly and deliberately.
“Well, well, well, what have we here,” Sigmund said as he surveyed the new and improved Thomas. Thomas looked from Astrid’s shrunken form to Sigmund, confused.
“Um, I’ve had a bath,” Thomas answered.
“As I see,” Sigmund responded. “As well as a shave, and a haircut, and a clean shirt, and clean sheets. You realize I am neither blind nor an imbecile, don’t you, Thomas?”
“Yes, Mr. Lange, I didn’t mean to suggest–”
“Astrid! Come here!” Sigmund yelled.
Thomas jumped at the show of rage. Astrid stood up calmly and walked to the chair. She placed her hands on the back without prompting. She knew what was coming…had known all along. A dawning realization came over Thomas’s face. She had done this for Thomas on her own, without permission from her father, knowing the ramifications.
Sigmund whipped his belt off and marched toward Astrid.
“Wait!” cried Thomas. “Hold on! I asked her!”
“You what?!” Sigmund whipped back to Thomas.
“I asked her. I asked her for the water and soap. I felt like I needed to start being more presentable, more tolerable to be around…so we could continue our work.”
“Is that so?” Sigmund was suspicious.
“Yes! I swear! She didn’t want to! But you told her she had to do what I asked. She had to make me happy. So I told her to do it.”
Sigmund’s eyes narrowed at Thomas. “You realize that Astrid cannot lie to me, don’t you?” Sigmund walked behind her. “Isn’t that right, Poppet?” He looked down at Astrid’s hands. They were already open, barely resting on the back of the chair.
“Ja, Vater,” she said, resigned.
Sigmund looked back at Thomas, smiling. “You see, Mr. Reed. The punishment for disobedience is the belt. But the penalty for lying is far, far worse.” He placed a hand on Astrid’s hip, hitching her dress up a bit. “Isn’t that also correct, Astrid?”
“Ja, Vater,” Astrid said, her voice catching.
“So then tell me, dear girl. Was this your idea? Or was this Mr. Reed’s idea?”
Sigmund looked at Thomas, knowing what her answer would be.
Astrid looked up at Thomas, looked him straight in the eye for the first time ever.
“Er hat mich dazu.” Her voice was sure, and calm, and even.
Sigmund whipped his head to look at Astrid. She dropped her gaze again.
Sigmund stepped away from Astrid, looking at her warily, wrapping the belt around his knuckles.
“What did she say?” Thomas said, in a panic about what could be worse.
Sigmund looked at him, “It doesn’t matter. It was a good idea, Thomas. You were starting to reek.” He turned and walked back toward the stairs, leaving Astrid standing behind the chair.
Only once the door closed behind him did Astrid allow her arms to drop from the chair, and she crumpled to the floor.
“Astrid! Are you ok?” Thomas whispered in case Sigmund was still listening.
Astrid just sat there staring at her hands on the floor, trying to catch her breath.
“Astrid,” Thomas tried again. “Are you ok?”
“Ja. I mean…yes.”
“Why did you do that? Why did you put yourself at risk like that?!”
Astrid looked up from the floor at Thomas. “Because I thought it would make you feel better.”
Thomas was speechless, crushed by the weight of too many emotions, and watched silently as Astrid picked herself off the floor and went back to her bed.
Time surged in fast forward again. The next day, Thomas touched Astrid’s hand when she brought his food, holding it, not letting her pull away.
It raced through the evening and Sigmund’s session, through the night and two more days, stopping one morning when Astrid set his food on the bed.
“Wait,” she stopped him from eating. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a key. It was the key to the shackle.
“What?! Where did you get that?” Thomas was incredulous.
“Vater left his coat today. It was in his pocket.” She bent over his legs and unlocked the cuff.
“Astrid, you shouldn’t have. If he finds out–”
“Shhh.” She raised a finger at him. “I don’t care what happens to me. He can kill me. I would be better off.”
Thomas pulled his legs around and tried to stand up. But he was too weak from the weeks of inactivity, and he lost his balance. Astrid stepped in and helped him, supporting him while he shuffled across the floor.
“Help me back to the bed,” he said when they reached the stairs.
“But you can go! You are free!”
“No. I am too weak right now. And I am not leaving you behind.”
Astrid looked at him, unable to comprehend his reasons.
“Come on, now. Take me back.”
Reluctantly, she took Thomas back to the bed, and he relocked the cuff.
That night when Sigmund came down for his session, Thomas proposed a deal.
“Mr. Lange, a while back you told me that my trips at the brothel had been a breakthrough for you, and it was something I could be a part of. Is that still the case?”
Sigmund looked up from the notepad and surveyed Thomas. “It could be something that we work out, provided that you are a willing participant in some more experiments. The BZ took you to a whole new level. If we continued with that, I could assure you that some changes could be made.”
; “Hmmm…I see. Well, I am willing to negotiate with you. I am willing to start now, in fact. But I have one condition.”
Sigmund snorted. “Are you really in the position to be proposing conditions, Thomas?”
“Actually, I am.”
Sigmund’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t worry, I understand that I need to build your trust,” Thomas continued. “But you have to give a little bit. I’m getting too weak being chained to this bed. I need some regular exercise. And some sunlight. And more meals. And I would like the ability to use a real bathroom.”
“My, my my, that’s sure a lot of demands for someone in your position, Thomas.”
“I know it seems that way. But I feel that if I am healthier, what I have been doing lately will improve.”
That got Sigmund’s attention. “What you’ve been doing lately? You mean two months ago at the brothel?”
“No, I mean last night. And the night before that. And the nights and nights before that.”
“What?! What do you mean?”
“Like I said, Mr. Lange. I am willing to negotiate for some basic improvements. And as I build your trust, I will expect a few more.”
“I don’t understand? You’ve had trips this whole time? Outside the lab? Why haven’t you told me this?”
“First, you haven’t asked. You only ask about before. Second, you haven’t earned it.”
Sigmund grumbled. He did not like being in a weaker position.
“It isn’t a weaker position, Sigmund,” Thomas said, reading his mind. “It’s a cooperative position. Similar to what you are negotiating with your future board members for Infinium Incorporated.”
Sigmund dropped his pen on the floor.
Time rushed forward. Thomas was unchained only at night when Sigmund was at the residence. He walked around the basement and did pushups while talking. Sigmund took copious notes. Another day, Sigmund came into the basement carrying a newspaper, clearly excited that it confirmed something Thomas had told him. After that, Thomas was free while Sigmund was at his office. He started helping Astrid with her chores.
One night, Thomas had a severe nightmare. He was tossing and turning so violently that instead of just watching from the corner, Astrid got up and went to his bedside. She laid her hands on his chest to calm him.
Time stopped.
Thomas jolted awake with a shout.
“Thomas! Are you okay?”
Thomas was breathing heavily, staring into Astrid’s eyes. He pulled her into his arms and held her. She didn’t know what to do, but he wouldn’t let her go, and after a time she relaxed in his arms and allowed him to comfort her, and himself.
Time throttled forward through the rest of the day. That night, Thomas watched Astrid sleeping on the floor. He called to her, startling her awake. She came to his bedside, and he moved over, offering her half the bed.
Astrid looked to the door above the stairs and back at Thomas, shaking her head. He reached up, took her hand, and pulled her gently to the bed. She laid down beside him. He pulled her back to his chest, caressing her hair until she fell asleep.
Days passed quickly. Light and shadows. Astrid slept next to Thomas each night. They worked together each day. They acted the same for Sigmund when he came for a session, but they were clearly falling in love.
One afternoon, Thomas was sitting on the bed writing notes on a pad. Sigmund hadn’t come for a session three nights in a row because he had been working later at his office, so Thomas had begun providing his information independently. He stopped writing and looked up at Astrid, standing at the shelves, stacking jars of preserves she had just made. It was obvious he was in love with her yet was deeply sad. He stood up from the bed, walked to her, turned her around, and swept the hair out of her eyes. He looked into them with conviction.
“I am going to take you away from here. I promise.” He lifted her chin, caressing its shallow indent with his thumb and kissed her.
Time rushed forward in a quick blur of motion. A few times, Astrid was in bed with Thomas when Sigmund arrived home from the office and had to scramble to dress and make it to her mattress before he opened the basement door.
Too many close calls.
Time kept surging forward, weeks–months–with dizzying speed.
When it finally it stood still again, Thomas and Astrid were sleeping next to each other, legs and arms entangled, her head on his shoulder. They were comfortable with each other now, comfortable in the routine.
Aislen heard Sigmund’s familiar footsteps coming up the walkway. She looked to Thomas and Astrid, expecting Astrid to make a mad dash for her mattress on the floor.
But neither of them moved, both in a deep sleep.
The front door opened, then closed. Still, neither stirred.
“Astrid wake up!” Aislen called from across the room. But, of course, there was no reaction.
The closet door opened, then closed. It’s late, Aislen thought. Maybe he will just go to bed.
She held her breath, listening to the tap, tap, tapping of his feet on the wood floor, willing him to go up the stairs. But the tap, tap, tapping moved toward the basement door.
Aislen willed herself to the bedside so she could stir the air, or move the bed, but she was frozen, her legs pumping slowly like they were stuck in molasses.
The door opened at the top of the stairs.
“Alpha 14,” came a voice from the top. It didn’t sound like Sigmund, but it was Sigmund who started descending the stairs.
Aislen looked to Thomas and Astrid, still sound asleep on their bed.
“Wake up!!!” Aislen screamed at the top of her lungs, but the only movement was the steady rise and fall of their breathing.
Sigmund stopped in front of Aislen, turned to her and smiled. He knew she was there; he always knew.
“Aislen.”
But Sigmund’s lips didn’t move. And it wasn’t his voice in her head speaking her name.
Sigmund looked back toward the bed, seeing Thomas and Astrid together.
He looked back at Aislen, the most gruesome, evil expression taking over his face. He turned toward the sleeping figures in the bed. Aislen watched helplessly as Astrid began to stir, sensing her father’s presence.
Sigmund was on her in a second, grabbing her from the bed by her hair.
Aislen cried out, kicking and fighting against the thick air holding her like a straitjacket, trying to run toward Sigmund and stop him from hurting Astrid.
There was a warmth on her arms, and a firm grip embraced her even tighter.
“Aislen.” The voice was firm and urgent.
Aislen watched Sigmund throw Astrid’s naked body against the wall and saw her protruding belly. Astrid was pregnant! Sigmund noticed it too and charged toward his daughter again.
“Nooooooo!” Aislen screamed, clawing to get at him, when suddenly she was lifted up.
“Aislen, wake up!” The voice screamed back at her as she was swooped up off her back and flung forward.
She opened her eyes to Raziel’s. He was holding her by the shoulders and staring at her intensely.
“Steady now, it’s okay. I got you.”
Aislen fell back into blackness.
Fourteen
A persistent tap, tap, tapping pulled Sigmund unwillingly from the dream just as it was getting to the best part!
He squeezed his eyes tight and tried to go back into the same place, the part where he lifted the little slut from the ground by the throat. The part when Thomas flew from the bed thinking he could take Sigmund down and got the unexpected blow of Sigmund’s foot to his chest.
It caught Thomas hard, and he fell back against the metal frame of the bed.
Sigmund had the advantage here. He was prepared. He knew what he would find. He’d been hoping for it all along, hoping that the sex would tempt them and lull them into complacency. Sex always won, took down the weak with her moist, siren call. Beasts! They were nothing but weak beasts!
With pe
rfect timing.
Astrid was only about three months along. She could still hide it under the loose dress, but she couldn’t hide it on the thin frame of her bare, naked body.
Holding Astrid by the throat against the wall with his right hand, he pulled the switchblade from his pocket. He’d started carrying his father’s Nazi heirloom in anticipation of this occasion months ago. He’d seen the subtle looks, felt the shift in their connection, and had hatched his most brilliant idea ever.
Thomas started trying to stand up but stopped short when the knife sprung from its safety.
Tap, tap, tapping pulled Sigmund back up. It was growing louder. Sigmund became aware of the flicker of the overhead night light as it started shutting down for morning.
Not yet, God damn it! I am so close!!
He’d stayed at work late that night hoping he’d finally discover this. It was time–time for some big changes. And if he’d waited any longer, it would have been too late. Thomas would have surely persuaded Astrid to run off with him soon. Sigmund could tell it was on his mind. Thomas had been pulling back and slowing down on the details of his nightly Travels. This, now that Sigmund had all the final pieces in place and was ready to showcase Thomas’s talents to The Board.
Thomas surged to his feet, knife be damned. Sigmund whipped the blade around and pointed it at Astrid’s belly.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sigmund growled. “I will gut her in half a second.”
“You wouldn’t!” Thomas gasped.
“I so would. I brought her into the world this way; I will take her out the same.” He jabbed the sharp point into her flesh and she cried out.
Thomas stopped, put both hands up and stepped back.
Tap, tap, tapping was too loud, and he was almost there.
Sigmund threw an arm over his eyes, to shut it out.
Her pliant neck felt so fragile beneath his fingers, felt so good he dug his nails in a bit. She choked out a whimper. The temptation to finish her was a powerful one. It had been so long since he had satisfied himself.
“Sigmund, stop! Please!” Thomas’s intensity broke the spell. Astrid was more valuable alive. Sigmund still needed her, still needed the spawn she carried if he was going to get Thomas to do what he wanted.
Time Walker: Episode 2 of The Walker Saga Page 11