“How can you be so sure?” I asked him.
“Because if Phillips had captured Ravenwood with anything that looked remotely like a DNA code he would have known that we were trying to deceive him,” Hunt said.
“So where is the other half?” I said, staring at him through my half-closed eyes.
“I’ve given it to someone,” he replied, glancing back over his shoulder again.
“Who?” I asked, feeling more confused than the drugs were making me.
“I knew I had to give it to someone,” he said. “Someone I could trust – someone I knew who would have the sight to find a way to escape these Vampyrus.”
“Who?” I asked again, wanting to hear their name before I lost consciousness again.
“I’ve given it to you, Kiera,” he said. “You have it.”
“What…where?” I slurred.
“I’ve written it amongst the pages of this,” he said, holding up the book, ‘The Wind in the Willows.’
Seeing the book in his hands…
…I woke up and crawled over to the hole in the floor and was sick.
I tried not to breathe in the stench that wafted throughout my cell from the hole. But it wasn’t the smell that made me throw up, it was the agonising cramps in my stomach and the cool, feverish sweat that covered my skin that made me feel ill. It was my cravings for the red stuff and I didn’t know if I could hold out.
I had to!
I felt dirty and I smelled, too. The hosing down the Vampyrus had given me had only freshened me up – it hadn’t been a proper wash, not like relaxing in a hot bath with mountains of frothy bath suds while listening to my iPod.
Vomit swung from my chin and I knocked it away with the back of my hand. Standing, I crossed my cell to the chair. I was no longer hobbling and my leg was beginning to feel stronger. My hair was matted and I tried to drag my fingers through it, but it was impossible. The ‘Wind in the Willows’ lay open on the dusty floor, and I looked down at the torn pages. In my dream – memory – Doctor Hunt had told me that he had written his half of the code in the book. But if he had, how much of it had I ripped out, mashed-up into a soggy-pulp and filled the holes in the ceiling with? Reaching down, I picked-up the book and thumbed through the pages. Sweat ran from my brow where I was burning up with fever, dripping like rain drops onto the pages. Squinting, I looked down at the book but couldn’t see anything that looked like handwritten code amongst what was left of the pages. To be honest, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. What did DNA code look like anyhow? My cravings were what mattered and they felt all-consuming. But something inside of me, the part of me – Kiera – that was still holding on told me that the code was the most important thing. If discovered by Phillips and this invisible man, it would be used to breed more of those half-breeds and their special gifts would be used to destroy…
Dropping the book, I staggered over to the hole in the floor again and gagged as more sickness gushed from the pit of my stomach, up my throat, and into the hole. It burnt my mouth like acid, and it came out in thick, black, ropey streams.
Just have some of that red stuff, a voice whispered in my ear. Go on, just a bite, you’ll feel so much better.
At first I thought it was that other part of me, the Kiera that wanted to give up and make the pain go away. But then I realised it was the voice of my mum talking inside my head, and I pushed the sound of her voice away.
Covering my ears with my hands, I rocked backwards and screamed, “No! I won’t eat that shit!”
“Go on,” my mum’s voice whispered inside my head. “The red stuff will take the pain away.”
“But it’s not just red stuff you want me to eat!” I screamed until my throat felt raw. “Its human flesh and I won’t have anymore!”
Then her voice was gone – like a fine mist lifting away as the sun comes up.
Looking up at the square hole, I took comfort in the knowledge that in the early hours of tomorrow morning, I would be disappearing through it. I’d be getting away from this filthy, stinking cell, away from this zoo. This time tomorrow, Phillips would come to my cell and find me gone.
Through the hole I could see that it wasn’t yet night, but the moon would only be a couple of hours away. I got a jittery feeling knowing that this would be my last night in the zoo.
What about Kayla and Isidor? I wouldn’t leave without them. I needed a plan – but I couldn’t think. It was like the pain in my stomach was stopping me from focusing, from seeing what I needed to do. Rolling over onto my side, I noticed that a fresh bowl of food – red stuff – and water had been placed in my cell and I wondered what type of creature that big white paw belonged to.
A polar bear?
Did they have polar bears in the zoo? I wondered. Why not? They seemed to have every other type of animal. I crouched down on my haunches and realising that this would be the last time that the paw would shove me my food through the hatch, I lent close to it and shouted:
“Thank you, white paw, for all of my food!”
I listened for any sort of a reply but there was nothing. A growl would have done.
What was I doing? What was I thinking of?
Why was I even concerning myself with what type of creature had been shoving that red stuff through the hatch? Why was I thanking them? They hadn’t been doing me a favour – helping me out in someway. They were no more than helping feed my addiction. They were a part of all of this. And I knew, somewhere behind the pain that I was in, I was going mad – losing sight of escaping from my cell and fighting the cravings that I’d had since eating that flesh for my mother. But I hadn’t eaten it for her – I’d eaten it for Luke. Where was he now? By eating it, had I saved him?
I looked at the bowl of meat sitting in a pool of black blood. Trembling all over, I reached out and touched it with the tips of my filthy fingers. The meat felt warm and moist and I just wanted to snatch it up and ram it into my mouth. To tear it into pieces with my teeth, taste the blood on my tongue and let it sooth my burning throat. With tears running down my cheeks, I stretched out my fingers and pushed the bowl away. Turning towards the water, I cupped it in my shaking hands and raised it to my cracked lips. I poked my tongue from my mouth and licked at the water and it felt cool and wonderful. Sitting on the floor of the cell, I sipped at the water, and let it wash over my tongue and down the back of my throat.
“Save some!” The Kiera that still wanted to escape said in my ear. “You might need it to soak the pages of the book in.”
“But I need those pages,” I whispered aloud. “It has a secret code written on them.”
“Save it – you’ve got a long night ahead of you and you need to be strong,” the other Kiera said.
I took the bowl from my lips, and placed it back on the floor. I couldn’t help but notice how the water looked so nice as it sloshed against the side of the bowl.
Trying not to think about the water and the other stuff – the red stuff, I thought of Nik and I wondered how nice it would have been to see him before I made my escape. I secretly hoped that he would come before nightfall. Although I had found him frustrating at times, he had been a friend to me.
Then as if my prayers had been answered, there was the sound of keys rattling in the lock and the door was slowly swung open. Glancing up, I hoped to see my friend. Instead, with what little strength I had left, I edged myself away from the door as Phillips and Sparky came towards me.
Chapter Thirteen
I scrambled onto my chair as Phillips strode in with Sparky beside him. Both were in human form. Phillips wore a black shirt that was open at the throat, and I could see the scars that ran down the length of his face and neck. They still looked raw in places, pink and mauve and I remembered how I had watched from high up in a tree in St. Mary’s graveyard as Potter had attacked him. That night seemed like years ago now. They circled me a couple of times, I noticed Sparky sniff the air as if his Lycanthrope instincts simmered beneath his Human form.
Phillips stopped in front of me and asked Sparky, “How’s her leg healing?”
Sparky came forward, crouched down, and rubbed his nose into the scabs that had now completely formed over the wound. He then ran his tongue up the length of it. He smacked his lips together and then turned to face Phillips.
“I think her leg has more or less healed,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Phillips asked, with a tinge of excitement in his voice.
“She’ll be good enough,” Sparky smiled at Phillips.
“I am right here, you know,” I said.
Without warning, Phillips pushed me from my chair and sent me sprawling across the floor.
“What was that for!” I yelled.
Phillips came slowly forward and towered over me.
“Who gave you the book?” he asked, his black eyes boring into mine.
“I told you, I didn’t catch their name,” I protested.
“Liar!” Phillips roared. Sparky almost seemed to giggle behind him.
Phillips reached out and picked up ‘The Wind in the Willows’ and flicked through it. I nervously glanced up at the ceiling. Sparky caught my stare and I immediately looked back at Phillips. His long, bony fingers were methodically turning the pages, and then they stopped. He slowly raised his head and looked at me.
“There are pages missing,” he grunted. “Why have you ripped pages from the book?”
My mind raced and the pain in my stomach grew worse and it felt as if my innards were being ripped from me. I had to think of something and quick. Then looking up at him, I winced and said, “Well what do you expect when you don’t provide any toilet paper? What am I meant to do?”
Phillips eyed me suspiciously, and then said, “You’re a savage!”
“Why don’t you get laughing-boy over there to go check out the hole?” I said with as much confidence in my voice that I could muster. “He’s obviously got an amazing sense of smell!”
Phillips glanced at Sparky who seemed to have lost his sense of humour all of a sudden.