Adapt (I)

SCARLET

I pull my hood up over my head to shield myself from the morning chill. Then I realize that my vision is impaired by about fifteen percent, so I pull it back down.

The intersection of 4th and Rosewood is a part of the old city. Once abandoned in favour of the new subdivisions, now reclaimed as warehouses. The buildings are made of red brick, with small arched windows. Nothing here reaches over three stories. In the upper levels you can see boxes and sheets, and shelves stacked up against the windows. The pathways and roads have been repaved quite recently, with new bitumen and concrete unmarred by trodden on chewing gum. Everything is lit in the striking yellow hue of the streetlamps, making everything seem warm and cold at the same time.

It is at least forty minutes before daybreak, but I hoped that Logan would be early. I don’t want to wait any longer to save these girls.

However, we have been waiting for fifteen minutes and there is no sign of Logan. Trent, on the corner of the intersection to my left, is blowing on his hands, trying to stave off the chill. Boe isn’t as perturbed by the temperature, leaning against the building diagonal to me, dagger in hand and head swivelling back and forth. He hasn’t yet changed out of his black stone-wash jeans and black t-shirt, and he hadn’t even bothered to run his hands through his hair to put it back in place. He looks tired and dishevelled.

Not that I can talk. I’m sure that I look like a dumpster fire in my sweatpants, baggy hoodie and my hair pulled back in a very messy version of a bun. To clarify, not a cute-girl messy bun, with the perfectly arranged stray hairs. No, this is a bun that said one of two things; I have better shit to worry about or; I escaped from the mental asylum and all I could find to comb my hair was a branch.

Not that I care over much. I am more worried about Logan turning up.

The seconds tick by in an exaggerated way. I can feel every moment slipping through my fingers.

Another ten minutes tick by. Boe hasn’t moved from his casual lean. Trent paces back and forth in a short line, trying to remain alert and warm.

I clench my fists. Impatience is welling inside of me. “Logan, where the fuck are you?” I growl through gritted teeth.

Boe turns to look at me, a note of scolding in his eyes. Then they bug wide.

“You’re early.” A smooth voice says from behind me. In that same moment I whirl around, dagger in hand, to find Logan standing not three feet behind me. He is wearing a soft blue button-down shirt, two buttons undone at the top, with a pair of navy slacks and matching brown belt and shoes. Does this man sleep? I think to myself, pondering on how I barely had time for a shower since I last saw Logan. He seems to have had the luxury of not just a shower, but a full night’s sleep and time to groom himself into a business casual state fit for a brunch with high-ranking executives. From here I can smell the faint scent of rain and softly spicy men’s cologne. My mind comments on how the scent suits him.

Foot falls ensue from behind me; Trent and Boe coming to my aid.

Logan’s eyes never leave mine though. Clearly, he doesn’t feel threatened by my back up.

He should.

“Oh, yes.” Logan chuckles. “You three are very threatening.” Logan comments, as if he had read my thoughts. He sighs. “You have put the pieces together, I see. Finally understand why I need these imbeciles dealt with?”

“What is it to you if Therians are making new Therians?” Boe spits.

Logan’s sharp gaze pins Boe over my right shoulder. “Because it is against our laws. We haven’t many, but the few that we do have are paramount. One of which is that no child is to be born of an unwilling or unknowing parent.”

“Where is your law about feeding off small children?” Trent snaps.

Logan turns his gaze to Trent, his eyes softer for him. “Trent, it is our third rule. No feeding off those who’s emotional pallet has not yet developed. It is only preceded by our aversion for those that kill to feed, and a law that does not concern humans.” Logan pauses, tilting his head to one side. “Trent, I am sorry for what you had endured. I’m sure that you will find it no comfort, but if Scarlet had not silenced that man, I would have.” Logan pauses again and straightens. “I also thank you for looking after Scarlet when I could not.”

Look after me? I laugh in my mind.

Trent laughs out loud. “You look after Scarlet? You are, what? Twenty? Twenty-one maybe?” Trent lets out another chuckle. “Not to mention she would have ripped you to shreds.”

“Surely by now you understand, Trent, that appearances can be very deceiving. Especially when it comes to my kind. I am actually three years older than her mother.” Logan’s eyes gleam.

“You guys, can we please get back to topic.” I say, my impatience nibbling at me again. “Those girls are in trouble. Logan, you said you would help Boe lock onto their trail.”

Logan turns his gaze back to me. “Yes. And I will. But like I told you, you are early. I asked you to come at dawn because that is when their guardsman’s shift changes. We still have twenty minutes before they convene.”

“How many are there?” Boe asks, a business tone edging his words.

Logan’s words become edged as well. “Nine. Four guard the operation while the other four sleep and go about bringing back more hosts.” Logan’s mouth twitches at the word ‘hosts’. “They meet at dawn and dusk to let the others know what progress has been made.”

I narrow my eyes. For one, the math doesn’t add up. For two: “Wouldn’t the safest time to rescue the girls be any other time? While their numbers are halved?”

Logan nods. “Yes, but you risk the remaining members beginning the operation again. And this morning, their leader will be there.”

I nod. That answers both of my questions.

“Nine is a lot.” Trent says. “Do you really think that we can take all of them?”

Boe chuckles, as if the notion that he couldn’t handle nine therians is hilarious.

“Trent has a point.” I say. “This isn’t a free for all, Boe. This is a rescue mission. There are by standers that could get hurt if we are not careful.” Logan’s brow twitches. Boe’s laughter fades. I guess neither of them had really thought about the fact that we are not just doing this to get rid of therians. We are doing it to save those girls lives. I square my shoulders and turn back to Logan, but what I say next is for the benefit of everyone here. “We are here to save those girls. That is our top priority.”

Everyone is silent for a few moments, then Logan bows his head. “Of course.” He raises his head, steel in his dark brown eyes. “Now, because you are early, we may have an opportunity that I hadn’t thought of before. On meeting days when their leader is there, they convene before dawn, separate from where the girls are. With them separate, you may be able to retrieve the girls before they get back into position. By that time, you will have laid the trap for them.”

I tilt my head at Logan. “You sound like you have a plan for us.”

Logan nods. “I do.”