Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3) (20 page)

When he finished adjusting the flow of fluid in the tube, he nodded at Maze and asked, “Do you think he’ll let me clean your bite wound, or should I add antibiotics to this bag?”

Meg spoke directly to Maze.  “Evan’s not going to hurt me, Maze.  Calm down, okay?” she looked into his yellow eyes and didn’t move or blink.  She had learned long ago how to show Maze dominance, but hadn’t had to put him in his place since he was a rascally pup.  Her coyote blinked slowly, lowered his head and whined.  “It’s okay Evan.  He won’t interrupt you now.”

He moved to work on her other arm, spraying a topical antiseptic first, then rubbing the area thoroughly with alcohol wipes.  Maze sniffed and licked his nose, annoyed at the smell, but he didn’t make a move to stop Evan as he worked.  She smiled softly at her best friend.  Maze really was amazing.

Once her arm was cleaned and bandaged,
the room
seemed a little more at ease. 

“Listen everyone, I’m aware my recent behavior has been,” she searched for the right words, “detached at best,” she started.

“Honey, you haven’t been yourself since I stupidly encouraged you to use your gift to try to stop Williams back on the island.”  Margo’s eyes held so much guilt and regret.  Meg knew she was blaming herself for what happened.  She reached over and held her mother’s hand.

“We didn’t know, mom.  It could have worked.  We didn’t know what he was until it was too late.” Meg smiled with as much courage as she could muster.

“We know you were severely affected by your episode with Williams,” Evan said carefully.

Alik spoke up. 
“Evan and I have been trying to piece together the psychology of what may have happened.  We think your extremely heightened empath abilities worked against you when faced with the malevole
nce—Williams’ sadistic memories.
” 

“Meg, we think what he subjected you to, coupled with your skill of being able to experience through empathy the emotions of others, created a fracture in your psyche—a crack that has festered and widened with every nightmare since.” Evan was kneeling beside her, holding the hand threaded with the I.V. tubing as he spoke.

“It’s created a snowball effect in you.  As time passes, your psyche keeps trying to work through the trauma by recreating the event repeatedly through your dreams—but you’re stuck. ” As mom spoke, sincerity slipped down her cheeks as tears.

“Even during the day, you walk around like a ghost—dazed and detached.  You don’t smile or laugh.  You don’t tease your brothers or play board games with your mom anymore.  You barely even speak with anyone, always choosing to be alone,” Theo said.

“Meg, all these are classic symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.” When I looked into the soft hazel eyes of my littlest brother, Evan didn’t sound clinical or physician-like, and he didn’t sound like the agile-minded genius he was.  He just sounded like a scared thirteen-year-old boy. 

“What do you think, Meg?” Mom asked her hesitantly.

Meg sat staring at the deep gash in her knee from the mishap with the razor in the shower.  “It makes sense.  I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Typically, PTSD is treated by combinations of counseling, psychotherapy and drugs,” Evan offered.

She rolled
her
eyes at him.  “Are you serious, Evan?”

“Completely,” Alik said, jaw clenching.

“We don’t have time for this.  Creed is alive!  I have to get my ass to Germany and rescue him before Williams starts Phase II of his pre
-
apocalyptic, biogenetic murders using your brother’s babies!” She yelled to both Evan and Alik.

“We do have to devise a plan for Creed, but first, we need to help you, Meg.” Theo spoke from the back of the room.  He walked toward Margo and sat on the floor at her feet, offering his support to the conversation.

“You want me to see a shrink?” Meg asked the room, disbelievingly.

“Eventually, yes, but first, I think we need to seriously discuss an SSRI to help you.  The sooner it gets into your system, the better.  It does take a couple of weeks for it to work its way into the brain’s neurotransmitters and patients begin to feel some relief from their symptoms.”  Evan was looking at her earnestly. 

“What the heck is an SSRI?” she asked, getting more frustrated by the minute.  This was all feeling so surreal.  She half expected the lamp beside her to start dancing across the floor, or blood to begin seeping out of the wall, or the sound of metallic spheres rolling together to echo through the room.  Nothing felt real.  Meg couldn’t trust anything to hold still and not turn into a Salvador Dali painting, melting, morphing into the impossible. 

Speaking slowly, as though to a nut job in a straightjacket, Evan elaborated, “SSRI is an abbreviation for ‘
selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor
.’  It’s a widely used drug that works specifically with the chemical serotonin in the brain.  The serotonin is responsible for helping you feel happy, content and peaceful.  In people who have experienced trauma and are suffering from PTSD, the natural serotonins in the brain get absorbed too quickly, leaving the sufferer constantly feeling raw, depressed and anxious.  The SSRI slows the reabsorption of serotonins, giving the brain time to feel the benefits of contentment.  Does that make sense?”  He asked slowly. 

She felt like punching him in the mouth instead—hard.

That’s your reaction to a lot of things lately
, she reminded herself.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Meg said to the room.  Everyone sat quietly, waiting to hear the terms of her agreement.

“I’ll take whatever drug you think I need to fix my—what did you call it—my ‘fractured psyche,’ if you agree we come up with a plan to rescue Creed.”

“I have an idea about how to get Creed out,” a voice said from the side of the room.  All eyes turned to see who spoke.  It was Farrow.

“Great, Farrow,” Margo said, tipping her head to the side just a little, like Maze does when he’s trying to figure something out.

“What’s your plan?” Alik asked as he walked to grab her hand and bring her into the middle of the loose circle of family.  He encouraged her to take his seat on the sofa and plopped casually on the floor next to her.

The two had become very close friends over the last several weeks, though they never crossed any lines.  Alik was always a gentleman.

Farrow was still trying to find an identity that wasn’t predefined by her superiors at the Facility.  It was difficult for her as she really was highly intelligent, trained to kill, could execute the patience, stealth and mental agility required to be a sniper assassin, but she had no idea how to live outside of following direct orders.  The seventeen-year-old had so much to learn. 

Sometimes simple things like, deciding what toppings she wanted on her pizza would bring her quiet tears.  She didn’t know what movies or books she liked.  She couldn’t decide if she liked to run on the treadmill or outside.  She found joy in the simplest tasks, like washing her clothes and folding them however she wanted—or not folding them at all and living out of a laundry basket.  She had followed orders her whole life.  Now she was free.  It was a huge adjustment.

Alik was a gentle friend to the girl, and though he was two years younger than her, it didn’t seem to matter to them.  Alik’s easygoing way was a tonic to Farrow’s tense, unsure responses to her new world.  In the end, Ali would say or do something completely disarming and get Farrow giggling, sometimes even through her tears.  Meg wasn’t surprised at all to see them so comfortable side by side now.

Farrow took a deep breath before speaking, “You have been the family I never knew I could have.  I didn’t even know family like this existed.  You took me in and healed me, though I was your enemy.  You offered me a home and accepted me.  Meg, you even used your gift to heal my sadness, though it took such a physical toll on you.  I can never repay your kindness.”  Her large doe eyes glistened with emotion as she looked around the room.

“My plan is simple,” Farrow said, seriously.  “Send me to
Germany
.  For all Williams knows, I died back on the
Big
Island
.  I can easily come up with a cover story about being injured.”

“Wait, Farrow, he’s never going to fall for it.   How’s he going to believe you didn’t call him in all this time?”  Alik asked, worry pressing the creases in his forehead.

“I’ll tell him a half-truth.  I was considering going AWOL during those last couple of days on the island, even before I was wounded.  I’ll tell him, I considered deserting because I was angry with him for abandoning me to die in the jungle.  He never came for me.  It would seem a logical reaction.  It’s not far from the truth, really.”  Farrow waited while the room thought.

“What will you do once you’re back inside the walls of the Facility, Farrow?  How are you going to get to Creed?  How would you get him out?”  Evan couldn’t keep his barrage of questions to himself any longer.

“Well, I know that place inside and out.  I had access to just about every part of it.  I know the metas—or more accurately, they know and fear me.”  She looked guilty.  “I kinda had a reputation.  It was my way of surviving life there.  No one messed with me.  It was one of the reasons Williams chose me as his personal assistant.  He respects violence and intelligence, but most of all he respects power.  I’m not proud of how I got that reputation, but maybe now I can use it for good,” she looked up hopefully.

“You’re not going alone,” Alik said.

“I agree.  We’re going with you,” Evan nodded.

“I am so in,” Meg smiled genuinely for the first time in two months.

All of
them
turned to look at Margo for her reaction.  She was rubbing her temples.  Meg knew her mother had a stress headache starting right behind her eyes. 

“Mom?” Alik gently prompted.

She didn’t respond for a moment.  Slowly she stopped rubbing her temples and looked up.  She looked to have aged five years in the last two hours.  “I can’t think of any other way.  We’re going to have to go in to get him.  Farrow is our best bet at gaining access to inside the compound. I wish to God we didn’t have to do this, but I really can’t think of any other way.  He won’t expect us to come into his lair; we’re going to need that element of surprise to pull this off.”  She leaned forward in her seat and grabbed a pencil and notepad from the drawer in the coffee table. 

Cole, who had been quietly listening during much of the conversation, spoke up now, “What if he doesn’t want to escape?”

All eyes turned to look at Cole.

He shrugged, “Listen, I’ll join any game plan you come up with—wholeheartedly.  I just need us to imagine the possibility.  Meg, you said he doesn’t remember any of us.  He doesn’t even remember leaving the Facility.  What makes us think he’s going to jump on board when we find him?  Farrow, you’ve explained how brainwashed the metas are in the compound—how you were taught to think the outside world only hates and wants to destroy metahumans, right?”  He looked to the girl waiting for acknowledgement.

Farrow nodded and sighed sadly.

“So if we show up and say ‘We’re here to rescue you,’ do you think he’s just going to agree and come quietly?”  Cole was looking around the room.

“No, he’s not.”  Farrow’s voice was crisp with assuredness.

Several people in the room cursed in frustration, including Meg

“You’re right, Cole.”  She sat staring at the fluid dripping into her vein, feeling helpless.

“There’s got to be a way to get him out,” Evan blurted.

The room was quiet as they all thought.

Maze whined, sensing their frustration.

Margo finally broke the silence.  “Well, we need to take things one at a time.  First, we need to get you well, Meg.  We wouldn’t be able to do anything tonight anyway.  Let’s all think on it.”  She looked around the room at her family then added, “And pray about it.”

Her mother leaned over and rubbed her boney shoulder reassuringly.   Meg felt a wave of love from her and couldn’t help but look up into her soft dark eyes. 

She smiled weakly thinking,
thank God these people love me even when I am sick and feel ugly and dark.

Evan turned to her, and checked the I.V. bag.  “Meg, I’m going to get you started on meds immediately, okay?   I’ll talk it over with the parents and we’ll get a script called in for you.  I also think you need a sleep aid.  It will help turn off your mind and let you rest.  I’m worried about your empath gift triggering itself to seek Williams again.  If we get your brain to a relaxed state, then it can heal that much faster and stop recreating trauma for itself.”

She nodded quietly imagining being able to sleep with no nightmares.  It had been so long ago, it felt like a different life. 

Meg looked around the room and watched small conversations start among the family members.  Cole was talking with his dad in hushed tones.  Farrow was watching Alik intently as he shared something with just her and Evan and mom and walked toward the kitchen, heads bowed in deep conversation. 

She looked down at Maze, who hadn’t left her side.  “What do you think of all this, buddy?” Meg asked him.  He licked his chops.  She frowned.  “Please tell me you’re just getting hungry for your normal puppy chow and not developing a taste for my blood.”  He grinned at her letting his tongue roll out of his mouth and cocked his head to the side.