Page 39 of Born Savage

There was another look shared between them. What in the world were they thinking?

“Please, just let me do this. I want to help.” My pleading was only making Wren nervous.

“Honey, no. What if it doesn’t work and your mother suffers even more?”

While I knew my father was right, I wasn’t ready to give up. Not now. Not when there was a slight chance the drugs could make her better. I’d studied everything, medical books. I’d talked to Peter, endless conversations. I’d wanted nothing more than to make her better just so…

It suddenly dawned on me that all I was doing was trying to keep her alive for me. Not really for her. I wouldn’t be able to cure her. As I’d already heard. I wasn’t a doctor. Just a little girl terrified that one day soon, I’d be all alone.

Yes, I had the others in the village, but that was different. They were a found family when Mama and Daddy were… something different.

Wren remained close, her intent to comfort me catching my mother’s eye.

“Wren. What a lovely little girl. You look so much like Star did when she came to us.” My mother caught herself along with my father squeezing her hand. They were harboring a secret and suddenly, it seemed more important than I wanted to tell them.

Maybe because after the passion I’d shared with Rage, I’d fallen into a fitful sleep for an hour or so. The dreams I’d had had convinced me that I knew Rage from somewhere.

“Mama. Daddy. How did I come to live with you?” The timing was odd, but as Wren had done with me, memories had been sparked.

“Forgive your mother. She’s exhausted.”

“Daddy. Please. It’s important. I think more so than I thought.”

If they shared another look between them, I was going to scream.

“Tell her, Tom. Just tell her the truth.” My mother was insistent.

“You know we gave our word,” he told her.

“That was years ago. Things are different now. She deserves to know.”

“Star. Can I see you for a few moments?”

Peter’s voice sent a chill down my spine and I wasn’t certain why. Maybe because I felt as if a hundred things had been kept from me, secrets that someone hoped would fall into the abyss. He was my mentor, the oldest living person in the compound. There were some who believed he would live forever, an angel sent to guide us. Others believed him to be a warlock because of his magic touch with almost everything.

For me through his teachings, I’d learned so much about the world before the Great War including lessons about history and government. When I’d become older, he’d taught me about the Resistance, the desire for a revolution. However, his sudden appearance meant he was concerned about my slower return.

“Go, my daughter,” my father told me. “Peter needs you. We will look after Wren. Jake. What a wonderful name. He looks like a Golden Retriever pup.”

“I’ll go in a minute.” With my hands shaking, I brushed my hand down my mother’s arm. I could tell she was in a lot of pain. Wren was watching me intently, her face more pensive than before. With her arm still wrapped around Jake, their bond was obvious.

One I had to forgo craving.

“Inside the bag are some pain pills. They will give Mama some comfort and help her to sleep.”

My father lowered his gaze to the bag, holding it there for a full fifteen seconds. “Alright. Maybe they will help. I’ll ask Maggie for them.”

Seeing my father giving up, I’d never felt so devastated in my life. Yes, I’d been taught that death was merely a part of our world, a factor that couldn’t be denied or argued against. I knew the odds of surviving until old age was the cause of someone taking their last breath was a tiny percentage, yet I’d still had some sense of hope.

Today, I felt nothing but anger and bitterness toward a society who’d actively demolished their precious world long before I’d been born. Had they not seen the signs? Had they not attempted to change before it had been too late? Had they just turned a blind eye to the threats and electric vibrations indicating society had been crumbling from underneath, or had the entire population simply been ignorant bastards? That I did not know, but the ugliness surrounding the question had plagued me since I’d been a small child.

I had my beliefs, which were what had fueled my delicious cravings for revenge since I’d been old enough to brandish a knife.

Obviously, last night and the surge of emotions that I’d kept locked away had taken a significant toll. I needed something to ground me, which Peter was very good at doing. He’d always managed to feed my hunger for knowledge.

“Wren. Stay here. Okay? I’ll be right back.” I rubbed my fingertips down my mother’s arm, bruises and scars mottling her once soft skin. The heartache of knowing I’d lose her was a heavy weight but perhaps Wren was right. Maybe heaven did exist and my mother would finally be free of the horrific agony she’d suffered over the last year.

The little girl nodded as if understanding, but how could she feel anything but anxious, given she had no clue if she was in a safe haven?