“He wished the best for us,” Ryker said in a low voice. They were both in their shared bedroom, listening to the wind howl outside their window. The Jamesons had decided to put the wooden shutters up, for fear that the glass windows could break from hail and whatnot.
“The best for us?”
“As a couple.”
“I feel bad.”
“Because we lied to them?”
She nodded, saying nothing. Alexia drew the covers close to her body while Ryker checked the windows. It made him feel uncomfortable that a possible exit was blocked, all for the sake of a storm. The storm last night wasn’t too bad, anyway.
“I don’t want them hurt. They’re too nice,” Ryker finally said, echoing her sentiments.
Alexia looked away. “By lying to them, we’re already hurting-"
“Don’t let your morality come into play. We’re here to survive, and they’re helping us survive. Sometimes, people do that to live.”
“But these are genuine people-"
“Your doctors were genuine people, yet they had to hurt you, because it was part of their job. Who knows what they’ll do if they see our faces on the screens.”
“It’s only my face that’s on the screen-"
“It will be my face soon. They just can’t let the public know their last champion betrayed them yet,” Ryker growled.
Alexia swallowed some saliva. She didn’t know which was worse, having their faces displayed all over the country or relegating themselves to a slow and painful death via starvation or the cold. For now, there was this house; for now, there were the Jamesons. She felt awful for lying to them, but Ryker was dead-on by what he said. They had to survive.
“The moment you start questioning why you’re here and why you’re suffering, think of all the times those people hurt you and what those people did to your friends. Think of what they did to your mind.”
“My mind?”
“You don’t remember anything before sector 12, right?”
“I don’t.”
“Then they must have done something to you.”
She frowned. “I was born there; that’s all I know.”
“And they told you this?” Ryker scoffed, shaking his head. “And you just go and believe them?”
“I had no one else to believe. Those people raised me-"
“Dr. Delaney raised you. She’s dead now, most probably. But she died because she wanted you out. So, don’t go talking to me about morality, because I killed people to get out of that hellhole; I killed people to get to you.”
“You could have left me there. You could have left me to die.”
“Are we having this conversation again?” Ryker snapped at her. Then, he lowered his tone, realizing it would most probably sound like they were arguing. “If we had to go back in time, I still wouldn’t leave you. I made a damned promise, and I keep my promises.”
Alexia took a deep breath. “Well, thank you,” she said stiffly. “Good night.”
Ryker shook his head, unable to believe she had just said that. It was anticlimactic. He had expected her to talk back and not be so passive-aggressive. . Was that even considered such? No, she was avoidant, and she was doing this on purpose to annoy him, to make herself feel better about the situation. She needed to blame someone.
His jaw hardened, and he shook his head, making his way to his mattress. Lydia had made sure they had thick duvets tonight, but he didn’t need an extra bit of cloth over him. He gave his own blanket to Alexia earlier, content with the mattress and pillow he had.
He felt like he still wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he fluffed up his pillow and closed his eyes, forcing himself to sleep. He couldn’t, in the end. The minutes ticked by into an hour. Was Alexia asleep? He sat up and looked at her figure, the night lamp casting an eerie glow on her bed.
“I’m sorry,” he finally blurted out, not caring whether she was asleep or not.
“Why? I should be sorry.”
“I didn’t control my temper.”
“It’s in your nature,” she replied, not turning around to face him. Her voice was a bit muffled, but he heard it still.
My nature? Was she for real? He controlled his temper; she was just being irritable, torn between those fake values and the reality they had to face. “I don’t want to argue with you. It makes me feel like-"
“You’re an ordinary human being,” she finished. “You’re not the only one feeling all weird about this. You’re not the only one who’s lost people. You’re not the only one desperate for something good to come out of all of this. I am, too, in fact. Even Lydia and John are.”
“We have to leave after this snowstorm. Staying here too long… they’ll find out who we are.”
“Tomorrow?” Alexia whispered.
“Tomorrow.”
“I wanted to stay. I didn’t know this was what a home felt like…”
“We can have this,” Ryker told her without giving it much thought.
We? Alexia’s brows furrowed in her sleep, and she decided not to say anything about the home he suddenly promised. Was it a promise? So, he really was in this with her? He had no intentions of leaving her? She suddenly felt unsure of herself.
“I mean, you can,” Ryker finally corrected, glad that the room was dark. His cheeks burned a little. He’d taken this a little too far, hadn’t he? Alexia could laugh anytime.
“It’d be nice if you’d be there, too. I don’t know much about the world and its workings. I only learned how to turn on an oven today. I know I must’ve looked silly.”
“I think they’ve taken into consideration that you’re from some rich family.”
“How much was I worth as a test subject?” she suddenly mused.
Ryker shrugged, looking at the bedsheets at the foot of his mattress. “A lot, I guess. They gave me a lot of things after I won, even gave me some unit on that recently finished skyscraper. I hated being there, in Surveillance 24/7. And you know what? I didn’t even last a month there. They pulled me out for tours and press reviews, and-and to experiment on me. I believe I’m far more dispensable than you are. They kept you for years and years-"
“You’re a werebear; you’re pretty rare as these werebeings come.”
“Dr. Delaney told me you were one of the rarest finds. Even if they found something from other werebeings, your blood was a source of study for over ten years. After we escaped, I knew most of the kids inside that place ended up dead. It’s been top secret for so many years, despite the persistent rumors of torturing children and killing them for the sake of the country.”
“We’ll die as secrets…” Alexia said, her voice close to a whisper.
He shook his head. “Even if we die as secrets, the important thing is that we’re free from them, far away from them. It’s all that matters at the moment.”
Alexia took an inaudible breath in.
Ryker moved from his mattress, sitting on the edge of the bed. Surprisingly, he took her hand and held it. “I’m here. We’re together.”
She found herself nodding, glad that it was dark. Her cheeks were warmer than they had been in days. There was something about Ryker’s touch, no matter how hesitant it was at first, which still welcomed her in the end.
“Isn’t it terrible? That you’re forced to be with me-"
Ryker shook his head. “I’m not forced to be with you; it’s contrary to what you think. I can’t leave you alone; I don’t know why I can’t, but I just can’t and I won’t. For as long as I’m still alive, I’ll be here.”
She smiled a little and grasped his hand tighter as if in gratitude for his reassurance. “Sleep beside me?” she suddenly asked.
“Aren’t you getting too used to this?” Ryker found himself joking.
She shook her head and laughed a little. “I don’t think I ever will be.”
*
It was something that Ryker found himself to like, something that he secretly prided himself on. The fact that he could make Alexia sleep immediately once he was beside her.
Ha, I really am a teddy bear, he thought wryly. He liked to look at her when she was asleep, especially if she was free of bad dreams. She looked cute.
Cute was the right word, wasn’t it? If Alexia had grown up in a normal, loving environment, she would have been the epitome of near perfection. She wasn’t bad looking; she was naturally smart, her emotional quotient was decent, and she was innately kind. Perhaps, Dr. Delaney had impacted Alexia’s psyche more than she would ever know.
The month-long travel together had changed Ryker somehow, and he wasn’t sure if he welcomed it. He suddenly wished it was hormonal changes, like what he had read in the library once when he questioned why his voice started to sound like a whiny girl’s at the age of thirteen.
It can’t be me crushing on her, right? He remembered crushing on a schoolmate back in Oregon. It was his first and last, he thought. Crushing was for juveniles. He knew he had come to a decent understanding of Alexia’s character, knew that she liked her fruits when they could have fruits, knew that she liked to keep warm, and he knew she had concern for him.
The look on her face every time he came back from some menial job was a look of relief. Relief that he probably survived the day without getting caught? Relief that she now had company? Alexia was far from clingy. It was as if she strove for independence whenever she could, afraid that she would be a burden to him. He had gotten used to having her around. He had gotten used to her needing him. It was a co-dependency that he liked yet disliked at the same time.
It’s just something new, he had told himself, it was a new feeling, a different one from what he felt for his parents. He had been the one that was being protected, and now he was protecting someone else. Ryker once thought he was taking it too far; all he had to do was keep her alive. He didn’t need to keep her warm, he didn’t need to feed her, he didn’t need to think of her all the time when he was away…
*
“You can’t leave, not yet…” Lydia’s voice was soft, almost pleading. It was early in the morning, not yet six, when Ryker hesitantly walked into the kitchen to see Lydia nursing a cup of coffee. Her eyes looked droopy, and her nose was red. For a moment there, Ryker had thought she had cried, then he realized she had colds.
“We’re not-" Ryker stopped. She knew they were leaving; they had said so themselves the other day, hadn’t they?
Ryker heard someone else cough in the house. Was John sick, too? He turned to face John, and lo and behold, he had the same puffy red nose and watery eyes.
“That trip outside yesterday got me feelin’ all sick,” he said. Ryker looked at Alexia and almost sighed.
“We’ll make breakfast for you,” Alexia quickly said. “Why don’t you…uhm…go back to resting?”
“You’d do that?” Lydia’s eyes briefly lit up.
“I learned a thing or two about pancakes. I hope you don’t mind pancakes again,” Alexia said.
“Juliet, you’re such a dear,” Lydia told her as she shuffled out of the kitchen along with John. Ryker saw them heading for the living room, and they turned on the television set, drinking coffee, sniffling the whole time.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Alexia whispered to Ryker as Ryker reached for a pan in a cupboard.
Ryker shook his head; he had a scowl on his face. “The longer we stay here, the more they’re in danger.”
“We can’t just leave them, not when they took us in and cared for us…”
“This is what I meant by not letting your morality come into play,” Ryker told her, shaking his head.
“I don’t care what you think. I’m making them pancakes.”
She didn’t back down, something he had never seen before. She was defying him. Her eyes said it all, and he didn’t like it one bit. He wanted to leave; he knew they would give them enough supplies to survive the next week or so.
She was letting her sentimentality come into play, and it irritated him. What good was it to force her to leave or just plainly leave without her? Alexia was his ticket to safety and, perhaps, to freedom, yet she was also a bridge for disaster; his possible death came with Alexia’s constant presence.
He watched her as she deftly began flipping pancakes, like she had been doing this for a long time. She was tense, but she tried not to show it. For a split second, Ryker thought she had begun to learn how to lie or how to pretend she was alright. What if he couldn’t read through her anymore?
He shook his head and walked out of the kitchen to leave her alone before he could say something damaging. Taking a deep breath, he went to the living room to talk with the couple.
Alexia was annoyed. Was this how it felt? The longer she had been away from Sector 12, the more her personality changed. Was it for the better? She didn’t want to butt heads with Ryker; he was her constant companion, her protector, her source of warmth. He did all he could to help her, all those days of running and walking.
Couldn’t they just stay a couple more days? He was being unreasonable. She needed the Jamesons, and they needed them for whatever help they could render. They were an elderly couple who needed extra hands around. It was as if her feet were glued inside the house, and not once had she ventured out since they arrived three nights ago.
Ryker had told her he had scouted the perimeter when he repaired a fence. There was no one else for miles on end, but it made Ryker feel unsafe. Any attack on them could be unheard of, and it meant possible harm for the couple who graciously took them in. He was wary of the wolves that John had mentioned as well. They could be anywhere, they could be sniffed out, and they could be repressed like he had been once.
She found herself calming down after she had made her first batch of pancakes. She had no idea that kitchen work was soothing. Alexia began to contemplate asking Lydia to teach her to cook other things. She had seen a battered looking notebook with notes and recipes and wanted to make the couple happy.
Alexia couldn’t hear what Ryker was talking about; the television had drowned his voice. For a werebear, he sure could muster a whisper. She saw his hands moving, trying to express himself, and she knew he was having a difficult time explaining their situation. Alexia knew she would have a hard time, too. The Jamesons had been so nice to them…
Ryker went back into the kitchen, shaking his head. “We’re staying, but only until the end of the week,” he told her quickly. Then, he excused himself to feed the animals in the barn.
She smiled, feeling triumph. It was a reprieve, and she wanted this heaven to last for a little longer.