Unwound (13 page)

thought maybe a kiss would persuade you to do so. Not that I had

any doubt that you wouldn't wake, it was just in case you decided

to give up while you rested.

"I looked at him for a moment, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

There was something more to that then he was telling me but I

wasn't built to feel that type of emotion for anyone or anything, so unless he wanted to tell me, I would never know.

I lifted the mirror and met my eyes. The stitching around my

scalp was so minimal that if I didn't already have scars from

London's previous excisions, they wouldn't be noticeable at all. I 129

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inspected my hairline from one ear to the other, smiling at how

neatly Edison had put my scalp on. A flash of light gold caught

my attention and I pulled the mirror back far enough to see my

new hair. It was such a soft shade of gold, that parts of it looked almost white. It wasn't too long, but long enough where the front

sprung forward a little and the length reached just below my ears.

I reached up a hand to it. It was so soft that it almost felt unreal.

"Where did you get this from?" I asked softly pulling on one of the sprigs that was standing up in the front.

"A gold fox. I was completely surprised to see one and I

thought of how nicely it would set off your duo eye tone. Do you

really like it?" he asked finally looking at me with a shy smile.

"Yes; thank you. And thank you for putting back together as

you did. Thank you for removing the remnants of London from

inside my mind and thank you for not letting me feel pain," I said smiling back at him.

"You're welcome," he replied. "I'd like to fix your hand when you're up to it, then I'd like to go back to the factory. I think we could use some of the mannequins there to help work on your

new thought process."

"Let fix my hand now then, I don't feel tired anymore," I said as I pushed the blanket off of myself and set my feet onto the

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floor.

He nodded and led the way into the sitting room. I sat in the

chair by the window again and waited for him to return. In his

hands I saw a sewing needle, some thread, and a thin layer of

whatever it was that he hunted yesterday that formed the scarlet

pool.

"It helps being the son of a seamstress," he said with a smile as he sat cross-legged on the floor in front of me. "Can you turn that lamp on please?"

I did as I was asked and he took my hand in his. I watched

him thread the needle and I watched him take the skin and place it on my hand. He moved his glasses on top of his head as he put

the needle against my skin.

"Would you like something to dull your hand so you don't feel any pain?" he asked, needle poised in the air. I shook my head.

Nothing he was about to do would be anything I hadn't felt before

in magnitudes.

He smiled at me and pulled my hand close to his face before

he made his first stitch. I watched as he skillfully gave me new

skin with as minimal scarring as possible. Edison was very swift

with his work and was finished in less than half an hour. London

would've dragged this out for the remainder of the night, stitching 131

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and unstitching my hand over and over again just for her own sick

pleasure. Instead he was very gentle and most of the time he spent glancing up at me as he would weave the thread in and out to

make sure I wasn't in pain.

"All done," he said finally admiring his work. He slid his glasses back down over his eyes and turned my hand from side to

side to make sure that he was satisfied with what he had

accomplished.

I made a fist. I was used to doing things like this from the

orders London would give me after she attached new pieces to me

each time. The skin wasn't tight as it was on my face when I had

done it and it wasn't stretched too loose in spots either.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome. Now let's get some rest so we can head

back in the morning," he said gathering the spare pieces of skin and thread. I glanced out the window and saw that snow was

slowly staring to fall creating a fresh new white blanket, taking

away the scarlet pool, which made me think of something I

wanted to ask Edison.

"What did you use for my hand and scalp?"

"A wild boar. The skin of a boar or pig is the closest thing to the skin of a human. I wanted you to still look authentic so I knew 132

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that's what I needed to hunt for,” he explained.

As I sat there still looking out the window, I suddenly saw a

flash of blue go by the last of the scarlet pool. I sat up and craned my neck to get a better look and saw the flash of blue disappear

around the side of the cabin.

"Is something wrong?" Edison asked?

"No. I'm going to my room," I said. I decided I didn't want to alarm him when I still didn't know what was outside. "I will see you in the morning." I got up and headed out of the room and

down the short hall.

I closed the door securely behind me and waited until I heard

him do the same. Once I was sure he was in his room, I grabbed

one of the wooden dressers and shoved it against the door. If he

came in and found me gone he would probably come looking for

me and if the blue I saw was a danger, I didn't want any harm to

come to him. He had been so good to me these past few months.

I opened the window and prepared to go out when a face

popped up and stared at me. I fell back in surprise and stared at

what had to be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was

female and the blue that I had caught flashes of was her beautiful light colored hair. She had big, olive green eyes and a little button nose. I couldn’t see the rest of her face because she kept it hidden 133

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under the window sill. But just by looking at her I knew she was

another one of London’s puppets.

I got to my feet and backed away from the window a couple

of steps. Cassara had been deadly enough in her own right by

taking a piece of me with her I could only imagine what this one

would be able to do. Keeping her large, unblinking eyes on me,

she put her hands on the window sill and crawled into the room.

I had to admit that I was disturbed by that. Why she hadn’t

just climbed in was beyond me, but if she was attempting to

intimidate me, it seemed to be working just fine. She rose to her

feet and I saw that she was as small as Cassara was only she

seemed to be wearing a sheer ruby colored scarf around her neck.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and rolled her head from

side to side. As soon as she opened her eyes she was in front of

me causing me to almost cry out in shock. I wasn’t sure what

London was doing to these new designs but they were faster than

the eye when they wanted to be.

Firmly, she gripped my hand in hers and forced them to her

lips. I tried to pull away but her grip was like a vice and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get away from her so I let her use my

fingers to trace her slender, soft lips. She stared up at me with her eyes still unblinking but now seemingly taking on emotion. The

next thing I knew she had her small arms wrapped around me

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pulling me into a fierce hug.

“What are you doing?” I whispered fiercely. I didn’t return

her hug. I didn’t feel any connection to her to do so.

She looked up at me with her sad eyes and let me out of the

embrace. Turning her back to me she walked toward the window

and stood there gazing out into the sunset.

“Sparrow,” she whispered in a slightly raspy voice.

“What?” I asked confused.

“You once drew a picture of a sparrow for me. Don’t you

remember me?” she turned slightly and I noticed as she spoke her

words were labored as if speaking was a challenge for her.

Immediately I knew who she was. I never dreamed that the

Other was a female. I thought it would’ve been a male like me.

Was I the only male that London had ever created? It didn’t really matter at that moment because the one I had made an internal

vow to rescue had found me. But why? Had London sent her to

kill me as well?

“I miss the pictures you would draw for me, three two five

seven,” she said sitting on my bed. “It was nice to have someone

to communicate with, but when you escaped, Mother took away

all the drawings you made for me. She was so angry she even

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took some of us apart and threw them into a fire pit,’ she said

bitterly.

“My name isn’t three two five seven anymore," I said quietly.

She turned completely and looked curiously at me, "Did

Mother name you before you left?"

"She's not my mother, nor is she yours. Her name is London

please address her as such," I said through clenched teeth. "And no, she would never do such a kindness. To any of us. What's

your number?"

"She did name some of us. My number is one one zero six."

"So you were started before me then?" I asked curiously.

"I don't think our numbers have anything to do with the order they made us in," she said.

"They? Did you say they?" I crossed the room and grabbed her by her shoulders tightly. "Who else? Who else has done this?"

"I don't know. Mother --"

"London," I corrected her.

"London was babbling the night you left how she knew she

shouldn't have tried to finish you because you were always the

defiant son."

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I stared at one one zero six. So London thinks I'm a defiant

son. I know Cassara was sent to destroy me and it made me

wonder if the pale little beauty with the sky colored hair was

dispatched for the same purpose.

"I can see the question in your eyes. And the answer is yes,

but I won't do what London asks. If I had escaped first, I would've come back for you and I know you would've come back for me

eventually. I won't harm you. I promise," she said adjusting the scarf on her neck.

I couldn't help but think of the scarlet pool when she touched

her scarf. She was very beautiful and the scarf made her skin look even paler than what I assume it would normally look like. There

were no words I could think of to describe her true beauty but if I were ever to say I've seen an angel it would be her. With her blue hair she looked just like a glorious winter morning which gave me

an idea.

"Your name is Winter. Never address yourself as a number

ever again," I said.

She smiled and took a few steps toward me, her scarf

billowing in the soft breeze that was now passing through the

room. I wondered what she was hiding behind that thin piece of

material.

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"Winter," I began cautiously, "Why do you wear that?"

"This?" she asked fingering her scarf. I nodded. I hoped I wasn't being too personal but I really wanted to know.

"Moth-- London spent a lot of time trying to give me the

perfect voice. When she felt she had found it, she would become

disenchanted with the way I sounded rather quickly and would

take out my vocal chords and give me new ones. I have many

horrible scars on my throat, so I hide them behind this."

I looked away. I too bore scars of London's experiments and I

too hid mine away. I knew what Winter felt every time she looked

in the mirror and had to see those. I also knew that Edison could

probably help her as he had helped me.

"If you'll permit him too, my friend Edison should be able to help with those scars," I said to her.

"Do you think he would?" she asked hopefully. Before I could answer her, I heard Edison's door open.

"Caelum? Who are you talking to? I hear voices in there," he called through the door.

A look of sheer panic struck Winter across the face and she

sprung into action. She firmly covered my mouth with her hand

and started to pull me toward the window. I tried my best to pull

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away from her but she seemed to be just as strong as I was. After

a few more tense attempts, I was able to pull myself free from her.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a fierce whisper.

"We have to leave.
Now
," she said as she began to push me toward the window. I braced myself against the window frame

and dug my feet into the floor. "That's Edison, he can help you," I said.

"I don't want his help. I don't want it. I don't! Go out the

window. Please, please, please," she said sounding completely frantic.

We both looked at the door as Edison tried the doorknob. He

wouldn't be able to enter the room, because of what I had shoved

in front of it earlier. I heard his good-natured laugh as realized the door was blocked.

"Caelum, just let me know you're okay and I'll go back to my

room," he said.

As I opened my mouth to respond, once again Winter clasped

her hand over it to keep my silent. It was obvious she was afraid

of Edison and I knew why. This was another one of us bred by

London to only feel fear. It must have been one of her favorite

emotions to give to most of us. With one hard shove, Winter

knocked me out the window and jumped out after me. Grabbing

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me and throwing me onto her back, she ran as quickly as the wind

disappearing into the snow covered wonderland far away from