Hyde (4 page)

She looked at him suddenly realizing he was
right, “Yes.”

He stood, “Your father has tested your blood
every year since you were born and never has it shown the slightest
mutation. You were normal. It is possible this was dormant and
awaiting a catalyst. Honestly though you've gone through the change
he feared the most, Puberty. He assumed it would be puberty that
changed you. But you've gone through puberty, you’ve grown up,
nothing has changed until two months ago. When I brought you here
that night I checked your blood. It has changed, it is his blood
now. Someone has to have known they could turn you and how.”

She looked at him biting her lip, trying
desperately to recall what had happened.

She remembered nothing, the days surrounding the
fateful night were still blank.

“Will I change again?”

He nodded, “Yes but it will be slow like it was
for your father. We only have him to compare to but his changes
were several months apart in the beginning. Then when he started
taking the elixirs he never changed.”

“I will shower and we will go see my aunt and
uncle.”

His lips tightened.

She frowned, “What aren’t you telling me?”

He sighed, “They will think it was you, whatever
happened to her they will blame you. You have been gone a while,
missing since the night your best friend died. Not to mention you
were the last person to see her alive. They will blame you.”

"I am to blame. I deserve to be sent to
prison."

"You will never find out who triggered this from
prison. What happens if you change in prison Hanna? They will
experiment on you. The government would use someone like you. Your
father dealt with this all his life."

She nodded, “You're right. What can I do
then?”

He looked sickened, “I have an idea.”

****

Sounds filled the air around her suddenly, as
the cold air clung to her. She could see the blue and red lights
flashing. She could feel the warmth of something touching her arm,
as a voice spoke, “It will be alright.”

She glanced around dazed, her head hurt where
Roland had bashed it with his flashlight. Her hand shook as she
tried to lift it to her head, to feel where the warm liquid
dripped.

The person, lifting her and wrapping her in a
blanket, spoke softly, “Miss Holland everything will be
alright.”

She felt his warm strong arms lift her up into
him. He pulled her close to his chest. She felt everything coming
back, Roland's ridiculous plan seemed to be working.

“I’m confused.” She whispered. Something about
the man carrying her was making her body feel odd. She leaned into
him more, as he carried her out of the woods.

“I know sweetie, its okay now.”

Her voice cracked, “Where is Rebecca?”

“The doctors need to see you Hanna, they need to
examine you.” He pulled her back and looked her in the eyes. His
piercing blue eyes filled her hazy focus, “Everything is going to
be different but I promise you're safe now okay.”

She nodded curling into him. Something about him
made her believe the things he said, even though she knew they
could never be true. She found herself smelling him, her mind
questioned it but her body wouldn’t listen to reason.

He put her down on the cot and she was suddenly
filled with the cold air that rushed between them. The paramedics
stepped in to examine her. She watched the police officer who had
carried her, as the other men strapped her into the cot for
transport. She watched as they closed the doors to the ambulance,
ending her view of him. In the small gap of the closing doors she
caught a last glimpse of the dreaded forest. She wished she never
had to see again, but couldn’t help wondering how they had ended up
there in the first place. It looked just as it had in her dream.
She shivered and tried to relax into the cot.

The doctors examined her at the hospital,
everyone was excited about her survival of whatever had happened.
She knew they would find small traces of GHB. She knew she looked
underfed from not eating. She hated the fact that it had helped her
look as if she were truly an escaped captive.

When grilled about the events by the young
handsome blue-eyed police officer, she played the part well. She
was devastated about her dear friends death and sickened by her
lack of memories. She was generally no help what so ever, as she
recalled nothing they could use. She didn’t have to lie, she
remembered nothing. It wasn’t like they would ever believe she had
turned into a horrid monster. She didn’t even believe it.

She lie in the bed quietly looking out the
window at the city of Portland wondering what she would do to start
the search for answers. Lost in thought, she hardly noticed when
her aunt and uncle finally made their first appearance.

She felt her eyes watching them, studying them.
Her father believed them to be behind it all. He believed them to
be evil.

Her aunt's face looked truly relieved. She was
genuine, as tears rolled down her grief stricken face. She sat at
her bedside and sobbed, “Oh thank god. We thought you were dead. We
thought they hurt you like your friend.”

Her uncle squeezed her hand, as his lower lip
trembled, “What can you remember love? Did they hurt you?”

She shook her head, “Nothing, I remember
nothing.”

He looked down at his shoes, he looked sickened.
He truly looked upset by it all. She knew her father had wanted
them as an easy culprit. After watching them she had no doubts in
her heart, her aunt and uncle had not done it. They never even knew
a thing about her father, beyond his lack of parenting abilities.
They wouldn’t know how to make her become like her father. They had
no reason to do it.

“Are her parents okay?” She asked trying to
focus on Rebecca.

Her aunt shook her head, “No, first the brother
and now her. No.” The words burned her soul, what remained of
it.

She nodded, “I will need to see them.” She
needed to punish herself, she needed the horrific pain the sight of
them would bring. She also knew that if she truly had no knowledge
of her best friends death, she would be there for them. She would
feel their loss with them, it was her loss too.

“Well when do you get to come home?" Her uncle
spoke softly.

"Tomorrow."

Something happened in that moment that caused
her some doubt. An exchange between them occurred, she didn’t know
what it was but something stood out. His tone and her eyes darting
at him. They knew or feared something.

"So soon?" Her aunt asked looking confused.

Hanna smiled sweetly, “Yes I’m very excited to
come home.” Again their eyes exchanged a look. It was so subtle
that had she not been looking for it she would have missed it.

"The doctors don’t think that maybe you should
stay in?"

She frowned at her aunt, "No. There is nothing
wrong with me beyond a slight concussion and malnutrition."

Her aunt pasted the fakest smile on her face, it
was rigid, "Well you get some sleep sweetie. We will see you at the
house tomorrow."

She frowned as they both walked toward the door,
"Will you pick me up?"

Her aunt shook her head, "Oh of course. Silly
me. Yes we will be here in the afternoon."

He uncle nodded along, "Night Hanna."

Their incredibly short visit and strange
behavior made her suspicious. Her father could have been right
about them. Something was up, of that she was certain.

Roland came to visit her directly after they
left, as if he had been awaiting their departure.

He looked handsome for an old man, in a white
golf jacket and black chinos. She smiled at his inability to look
casual.

He smiled back at her sweetly, “Well good to see
you on the mend then.”

She nodded, “Yes, my head is starting to feel
better, slight concussion they said.”

He winced, “I wish there had been another
way.”

She shook her head, “No this is perfect. It's
exactly as it should be.” Her eyes misted, “I deserve at least a
smack on the head.”

He frowned, “No you deserve to be rid of this
curse, which is why I’m here.”

Confused, she tried to imagine what he was
talking about.

He looked at the floor momentarily and nodded as
if arguing with himself, “Against my better judgment I bring a
message.” He cleared his throat nervously, “A Mr. Marcus Dragomir
would like you to accompany him to out tonight.”

She frowned, “I’m not allowed to leave here
until tomorrow.”

He nodded, “Yes he will take care of that.”

She grimaced deeper, “Marcus Dragomir, the man
from my fathers stories that took place in the 1800’s? The one
whose blood had healing properties according to my deranged
father?”

"Hanna."

She shook her head, "What? It's too much
Roland."

He nodded once sharply, “He will pick you up at
eight sharp.”

She sighed, “I have nothing to wear but a
hospital gown. I'm not leaving here with my ass to the wind.”

He picked up a large shopping bag, she hadn’t
noticed he had brought it in with him.

“Stop cussing. Everything you need is in here.”
His eyes grew very serious, “I can't advise you on this and god
knows your father never listened to me, but I would be very careful
with him if I were you. He is not what he seems to be. His plans
always benefit him, even when they seem to be helping you.”

She nodded, “Thank you Roland. I will be very
careful.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead softly,
“Goodnight miss.”

“Night.”

He walked to the doorway but looked back at her,
“Your aunt and uncle, did they betray you as we suspect?”

She nodded, “I believe they have an agenda. I
don’t know what but something is off with them. I need to know how
they knew to trigger it and why.”

He nodded, “Very good.” He walked from the room
leaving her feeling confused.

The moment was all she got as the young
policeman entered smiling. He brought her a tea, “Hi.”

She smiled not able to help herself, something
about him made her happy, “Hi.”

“How's the head?”

She sighed, “Sore but not nearly as sore as my
back from laying in this bed.”

He laughed, his laugh sent a shiver up her skin,
“Yeah these beds make you want to get better.” His dark blond hair
and blue eyes gave him the wholesome boy next-door look she
enjoyed. She assumed he was within a few years of her age.

“So I need to go over your statement again.” He
spoke softly.

She nodded wrinkling her lips, “I don’t think I
recall anything else.”

He nodded, “I just want to make certain, the
first few hours are usually the best.”

She winced, “Wow then we're screwed.”

He laughed again, sending a shiver over her
body, “Well either way lets try shall we?”

She watched as he pulled out a pen and a small
pad of paper. He looked at her and smiled, “So you were seen with
Miss Macmillan the night you both disappeared, can you recall
where?”

She shook her head, “No. We always did the same
things though so if I had to guess…”

He stopped her short, “No guessing. If you don’t
recall its okay.”

She shrugged, “Nothing then.”

“Okay well you were at a Starbucks. You were
caught on video camera around eight in the evening. It’s the last
place you were seen.”

She smiled lost in the thought for a second,
“The pumpkin spice latte.” The words were a whisper.

His eyes jumped in surprise, “You remember?”

She realized she did, “Yes, we went to Starbucks
because it was the first day of the pumpkin spice latte. It was her
favorite. She always got a latte on the first day of that one.”

Her voice cracked as she realized tears trickled
down her cheeks. She stared off into space not blinking, recalling
the evening, “We went to my aunts house. Rebecca called her mom and
dad because we wanted to go to the movie, but they weren’t home. My
aunt made cookies, pumpkin chocolate chip.”

“Did you have a latte too?”

"What?"

"The drink, I'm just trying to see if you both
ate and drank the same things."

She shook her head, “I don’t like espresso. I
had an Americano.”

He chuckled, “That is espresso.”

She blinked, sending more tears down her cheeks,
“Its coffee.”

He shook his head, “Espresso and boiling water.
Its what they made in Italy for the Americans who hated the
espresso.”

She frowned, “I didn’t know that.”

He smiled, “What happened after the cookies and
coffee? Did you make it to the movie?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. I remember not
feeling well, I was sort of sick or something. I told Rebecca I
couldn’t do the movie, my stomach hurt. I don’t think we went to
the movie.” She bit her lip searching her mind.

She wouldn’t tell him anything else if she could
remember. Anything else would incriminate her. The memories stopped
at the hazy stomachache, “I don’t know. There is nothing else.”

He smiled, “Well remembering Starbucks and the
cookies is something.”

She nodded weakly, “Yeah.” The memories she did
have were plaguing her. She remembered Rebecca's face clearer than
any memory she had in her entire mind. She was holding her coffee
and laughing about the very good-looking and extremely flirty
barista.

He put his hand on hers encompassing it
completely, his skin was warm to the touch, “I’m so sorry for your
loss.”

She looked up at him feeling the tears again,
she wanted to tell him everything. His honest face demanded it from
her. She hated the idea of lying to him.

“I will see you at your parents house tomorrow.”
He spoke standing.

She looked at him confused, “My parents
house?”

He closed his eyes, “Right sorry your aunt and
uncles.”