Adapt (I)

TJR Garcia © 2020

SCARLET

“Are you going to ever tell me what you deduced from the first day of training?” I ask as I pull on my combat boots.

“Probably not.”

“Why? Because I kicked your HQ ass?” It has been six days since the night Boe kissed me, and I am getting really bored of the ‘speaking only when necessary’ bullshit. I haven’t even been able to talk to Caron. Phoenix is completely indifferent. I am beginning to talk to my bedroom ceiling for some conversation. It’s not thrilling, to say the least. The only minor relief is talking with Trent, who seems to fixate on my relationship with Boe. Most of the time I walk away from my training sessions with Trent more tightly wound than when I am around Boe.

Boe slings the backpack over his shoulder. “That must be it.” He isn’t really participating in my jibs, which means that I am going to remain un-conversed.

“Alright.” I say, resigning myself to the fact that Boe isn’t going to be particularly talkative tonight. I stand and pull up the waistband of my jeans. I am clad in all black, finished with a rather unattractive ponytail. “So, what’s the plan, boss?”

Boe strides to the table with the giant map on it. “Okay, the Therians are on the move through Thurston Park. They are camping there, at the moment.” He drops his finger on a secluded piece of land just outside of Thurston Park.

“Yeah, I already knew that. I want to know the plan of attack.”

He darts back to the kitchen and stuffs a few more things into the bag. “Teamwork. You watch my back, I watch yours.”

I nod, still trying to understand what he is getting at. “Is this one of those psychological tricks? Like a trust exercise?” That would explain his sudden urge to track these Therians. Absolutely everything we have been doing in the last six days has been training of some sort. My showers are timed, my clothes picked out for me, and I even have to take vitamin tablets. Everything I do is controlled, and I see no reason for this to be any different.

But for some reason this feels different. Boe isn’t instructing me like he usually does.

He stares at me blankly. “No. I could care less if you trust me.”

I narrow my eyes in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

His eyes are still locked with mine. “It is simple. You make sure I don’t die, I will make sure you don’t as well.”

“That is trust, by definition.”

“No, that is a symbiotic relationship. Mutual assured survival.”

“Oh.”

He wriggles both arms through the straps of the backpack and heads for the door. “Alright, are you ready?”

“Yep.” I follow him out of the house.

I step out into the cool autumn air. The sky is a beautiful transcending wash from light to dark blue. Twilight is my favourite part of the day. Something about it promises excitement. I breathe in the salty coastal air, eager to capture the moment before I continue to my car with Boe.

“What’s your focus on trust anyways?” Boe asks as I slide into the driver’s side.

He is stepping into dangerous territory. Trust doesn’t come easily for me. There has always been a reason for me not to trust someone. “It’s not really my focus, I guess. I already know that I probably won’t ever trust you anyway.” I jam the Jeep into gear, reverse out of my driveway and gun down the street.

Boe doesn’t even react to my words; he just keeps digging through the duffle bag he stuffed at his feet. “Okay.”

Shouldn’t he be angry? Or hurt? I just told him outright that I don’t trust him. “Is that all you have to say? ‘Okay’?”

He shrugs as he pulls out a silver handgun and slides the magazine in.

“What? No ‘after everything we have been through you still don’t trust me’ speech?” I say in my best Boe impersonation.

He shakes his head. “I told you, this is just a jo-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Is it bad that his nonchalance it bothering me? I think it is, but for some reason, my ability to hold my tongue around Boe is non-existent. “You know, you’re looking at me as just an objective and it is really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Well, if you want me to look at you like a real person, I already do. You were the one that asked me to go back to treating you like a mission.”

“Boe, I was...” I trail off, unsure of how to correctly finish that sentence. I stare straight out the windscreen so that he can’t see my eyes, because I am afraid of what they will betray. My chest is swimming with a pool of different, conflicting emotions. On the surface I know that it is better if he just looks at me as a mission. It makes the other night less... confusing. It was just a drunken mistake. That I can deal with. What I can’t deal with is the doubt. Because even if, for a second, I believed that he kissed me because he was attracted to me, then directly following that is the doubt of whether attraction was the motive or if the mission was the motive. A drunken mistake is ride-off-able and easily forgotten.

Or so I thought.

Boe tucks the handgun into the waist band of his pants, then reaches down and arms another one. “Okay. Well, with that pointless conversation out of the way, this is a nine-millimetre. The bullets have been infused with fragments of hunter blade, so a bullet to the heart will kill a Therian.” He places the gun in my lap.

I quickly take one hand off the wheel and gingerly steady the gun to stop it from vibrating off my thigh. “Why are you giving it to me?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Because we are just about to face Therians.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know how to fire a gun.”

“What?”

I swallow back embarrassment. “I haven’t needed to know how.” Admitting that to Boe makes me feel two inches tall.

He takes the handgun from my grip, our fingers brushing against each other as he pries it away. I grind my teeth as I fight the heat sparked by his touch. “Well, we better add that to the list of things I need to teach you.”

List? I want to ask, but I don’t need to know how many things I am doing wrong.

We drive in silence for the rest of the trip. The only words that were spoken are directions. Finally, we arrive at an abandoned farmhouse just outside of Thurston Park. The house is degenerate white weatherboard, trimmed with faded yellow gutters and a few malnourished rose bushes. The front gate is garnished with an arched trellis that is support for an out-of-control climbing weed. The strings of the clothesline are broken, laying impotently on the two-foot-high lawn.

Shining though the edges of tattered curtains is a low golden light. Whispers and creaking floorboards crackle in the air as I silently open my car door. In one glance I see that the house has no security cameras. These Therians are fairly young. Or they believe their abilities are unmatched. Either way, that will be their downfall.

Boe climbs out of the car and meets me at the gate to the house.

I reach over the gate to unlatch it. Boe grabs my arm and reefs me back, giving me a fierce look. He backs up a few passes, with the handgun in one hand, and lunges over the wire fence. He uses the top wire as a vault and lands silently on his feet. With a pained look, I follow suit. I don’t look as glamorous as Boe though. I wonder why I couldn’t just go through the gate, but I will question that later.

We round the perimeter of the house, looking for somewhere to enter. Boe points at a window that is slightly open. I nod, but I don’t really understand what he is getting at.

This sneaking around seems pointless. I could take all these Therians. Boe and I could have just walked through the front door and mowed them down. Instead, Boe is crouched beside this old shack with his ear pressed to the exterior wall, looking like a complete idiot.

My patience is wearing thin as he keeps listening. The floorboards continue to creak, making me agitated. My markings are burning white hot.

Boe sees me begin to straighten and he pulls me back down to a crouch. “There’s six in there.” He whispers so softly I hardly hear.

My eyes widen. Six. Okay, six is a lot to be taking by myself.

I take a deep breath. “So, what’s the plan?” I whisper.

“Surprise attack.” He leans toward the wall again, as if he is waiting to hear something. Then he straightens and nods. Still in the shadows, he backs away from the house. He stops about ten meters away, gives me a cheeky smile and bolts toward the glass window. He jumps and tucks into a ball. Glass shatters and falls like raindrops. It takes me a second to realize what he just did, before I climb through the shattered window as well.

And here I was thinking that he chose that window because it was half open.

Just as I get inside, Boe opens fire. He drops a woman, her head slamming against the living room wall that is now covered in blood.

I draw my dagger and thrust it into the Therian that is coming up on Boe’s blind spot. He doesn’t see me coming until the tip of my blade pierces his heart. His glowing gold eyes pulse with light before they fade back to brown, and he drops to the ground.

Boe lets off a few more shots before he tucks the gun back in his combat pants and draws his own dagger.

There are three bodies on the ground, and two Therians still encroaching on us. I lunge at the man. He growls through wolf-like teeth, his eyes glowing with brilliant white light. At the last minute, I tuck and roll just as his arms grab at air. As I pass him I nick his calf muscle. He yelps, but quickly turns to face me. He runs toward me, and I meet him with a knee to the gut, but not before he buries his teeth in my shoulder. I cry out, and retaliate by stabbing him in the chest, slicing between the rib bones. Blood spills from the cut, cascading over my dagger and my hand. He looks me in the eyes as blood begins to flood his lips. I pull my dagger out and he falls to the ground. He never looks from my eyes even as he bleeds out. Guilt pools in my gut. Tears begin to spring in my eyes. I fight it with everything I have, but as his eyes fade to a to such a light blue that it may have been grey, I can’t help but be crushed by the feeling of sorrow.

I look over to Boe as he wipes the blood off his dagger on his black t-shirt. I sniffle, trying to suppress my tears. “I thought you said there was six of them?”

His eyes lock with mine. “I did.”

“And there was.” Another voice says.

Boe and I instantly draw closer together when we hear the voice, unconsciously moving to protect each other.

A man appears in the doorway. His shoulders are broad, his sandy blonde hair complimenting his intensely brown eyes in a weirdly attractive way. I scan him for any Therian qualities, but none are apparent. However, my markings confirm that he is, in fact, a Therian.

He keeps his hands in the pockets of his slacks, looking at us from under his eyebrows. I can’t help but think that he looks familiar in some way. “You made short work of my bodyguards.”

My jaw clenches. “They weren’t very good.” I spit. Boe elbows me, telling me to shut up.

“That’s true. Then again, my father was a cheap son of a bitch. Good thing he is dead now and I can thank you.”

I cock my head to the side. Why is he telling us this? Then it dawns on me. “You are Jack’s son?” I could literally feel Boe’s glare boring into the side of my face.

“Jack? Is that what he called himself?”

“Mia was your sister?”

He chuckles. “In the most basic sense of the word.”

I nod. “And you’re here to avenge their death?”

His smile grew wider. “On the contrary. As I stated before, I am here to thank you. And ask if you would come and work for me.”

“We won’t do anything for you.” Boe spits, before I can say a word.

“Not you.” He barely retrains the hiss. “You are a hunter, and I wouldn’t trust a hunter as far as I could throw one. But a hybrid-now that is a concoction that I would love to ally myself with.”

Boe throws his dagger at the Therian. In a split second, the Therian crosses the room and wraps his hand around Boe’s throat. “Listen here boy, you may be good, but I am better.” Boe’s face starts to go red, his hands clawing at his attacker’s arms.

Without the Therian noticing, I come up behind him and nudge my dagger at the Therians spine. I pull his head back by his hair, and he releases Boe.

“You might be better, but I am smarter.” I walk him away from Boe.

I push him toward a recliner and hold my dagger an inch from his face. “Now, what were you talking about?”

His eyes glint with surprised elation. “You don’t know?”

I stare him down. “I don’t know what?”

“Don’t listen to him, Scarlet.” Boe coughs. “He is playing you.”

I glance over to Boe, and in my second of weakness, my dagger is snatched from my hand. Less than a moment later, I am flat against the floorboards, my hands restrained behind my back. A knee is pressed between my shoulder blades, just enough to impair breathing. I spit insults at him, but it doesn’t help.

“Scarlet is a nice name. Lara was always good with names.” he purrs.

I writhe at the sound of my mother’s name. “If you are going to kill me then do it already!”

He sighs. “I’m not going to kill you. When you are ready to know more about who you really are then come find me. Just ask for Logan.” Then the knee pressed against my back disappears. I clamber to my feet, but the room is empty. I storm through the dusty house, but no one is there.