Animalis (11 page)

Finally, his hands stayed under him and he crawled to his feet.

Jax ran. He passed Hank and kept running,

“Where are you going?” Hank called. “We’ve got to find out where that truck is going. Jax, I need you!”

Jax didn’t answer. He had thought the world needed him to save it. Killing the Animalis, it was exactly what he thought he wanted to do. But now that he had done it … His stomach had a shooting pain, nausea building. Nobody needed him.

He kept running, not turning around to see if Hank was behind him. A message from Hank came, but he ignored it.

The face of the hyena didn’t leave.

“Eh, mate.” It was Wes, the kangaroo. It hopped alongside him. “Heading out? Climb on. I’ll take you, anywhere you need to go.”

“Get away from me, Wes—now!” Jax said.

The kangaroo continued to bounce along with him.

Finally, Jax stopped. Wes came to an idle hop beside him. “Ready to go? Climb on.”

“I can’t ride you!” Jax yelled. He held his arms wide to show the blood covering his chest.

Wes barely glanced at it. “Sure you can. No worries, mate. Climb on. I’ll take you where you need to go. Back to the airport?”

Jax closed his eyes.
Back to the airport …

He took hold of the horn of the saddle. “Alright.” He climbed onto the kangaroo’s back and hunched forward.

Take me to the plane. Take me to Grimshaw.

He shook with the leaps of the Kangaroo. With his eyes closed, the face of the hyena was still there.
Why did they have to attack us? Why couldn’t they just leave us alone?
He opened his eyes, but the hyena was still there.

Chapter 8

Grimshaw

When they entered the airport, Jax hugged tighter to the saddle, hiding the blackening blood that had soaked into his clothes. The ICT scanners in the security hall would find the laser tool in his pocket, see who it belonged to, and check his ID to see if it matched. It wouldn’t check for Animalis blood on him. It wouldn’t know that he was a killer.

The door to Grimshaw’s plane opened and he stopped at the top of the stairs. Everything in the plane was white … soft … pure. What was he thinking? Grimshaw was going to be furious. Had he imagined that she would hold him in her arms and tell him that he was safe, that the war didn’t exist inside of her fields of golden wheat?

He turned to walk back down the stairs.

“Jax?” Grimshaw’s soft voice said. She came to the hatch. “Come in, come in. Hank said you left him—”

He turned to face her and her eyes went wide as she glanced over him—and likely saw the dried blood on his hands.

“Oh, Jax, are you alright?”

He shook his head and turned back around. Metal clicked under his boots as he descended the stairs. Now that he had seen her face again, how could he be around her? She couldn’t know what he had done. She didn’t know him, and wasn’t supposed to. She was just giving them a ride. What had made him think he could come to her like this?

But then he heard a light patter from her bare feet following him. She caught him on the last step with one hand on his shoulder.

“Jax, you should come inside. Come on. It’s alright. You don’t need to tell me anything. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Her hand felt light on his shoulder; he could have pulled away easily. But the lightness—no, the tenderness was stronger than if she had wrapped her arms around him. Tears started to stream down his cheeks.

Grimshaw took his hand in hers. Jax let her lead him back into the Atticus and into one of the cabins. They passed Hodge, who was standing in the living room.

He perked up when he saw Jax with Grimshaw. “Jax, I’m glad to see you! How was your day?” He sniffed, but Grimshaw raised a hand before he could continue.

“Hodge, close the hatch, please. Make sure Moxie and Little Hank are taken care of for a moment, alright? Please, don’t worry—don’t ask questions. Jax needs us right now.”

Hodge nodded and went to close the door to the plane.

“Why don’t you come here and we’ll clean you up?” She went to the small sink in the cabin and started to soak a rag. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

He stared at her for a moment, then blinked and shook his head. “No. No, I don’t think so. I … I can’t tell.”

“Hank was worried you were hurt, the way you left.”

He looked down at the floor. “No, I didn’t get hurt at all. It’s … It’s all … Animalis blood.” He stayed where he was, just inside the doorway of the cabin, hesitant to move.

Grimshaw brought the rag over to him. “Jax, don’t worry about anything in this cabin, we can clean it later. Right now, I just want you to feel like yourself again. Do you mind?” She reached for his hand.

Jax didn’t say anything. She crouched beside him and began to gently wash his hand.

“Sometimes,” she said, “the world crumbles in ways we never thought it could. I have no idea what happened, Jax, but I know that the person I met this morning was good. And it’s the same person I’m with right now.” She stood up and looked into his eyes. “Just do whatever you need to do to survive, Jax. It’s never immoral to stay alive.”

Jax closed his eyes; her words pricked at the fear that he felt building within. He pulled his hand away. “How could you know what you’re talking about?” Jax felt a tinge of anger at her. “You’ve never hurt a thing in your life, you don’t protect yourself, and you love everything you meet. It’s worse than being ignorant.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, giving him a little smile. “You’re right. I don’t know what you are feeling. I don’t know what you’ve done.”

Jax saw that she was now focused on his hand, not irritated at all by what he had said. A tousle of red curls hung down over her nose. She looked up, and he could see into her golden-brown eyes. He realized he was vulnerable, letting her eyes stare into him, and so he looked away.

The rag pressed against his other hand. The dried blood softened from the moisture and soon absorbed into the warm fabric.

Then Jax heard a soft scratching at the door. Something chittered. Grimshaw went to the door, opened it enough to let Little Hank in, and closed it behind him. The little black creature scampered over the floor to Jax.

“He loves you, Jax,” Grimshaw said.

Little Hank stood on his hind legs and began to lick Jax’s hand.

“No!” he said, jerking his hand away.

Don’t lick that, Little Hank! That’s someone’s blood
.

He looked at Grimshaw. “How? How could it love me? It doesn’t even know me,” Jax said. “He doesn’t even care whose blood it is—just loves the taste of it.”

“He doesn’t care if its blood,” Grimshaw said as she continued to wash his hand. “All he wants is for you to be clean—and safe. It’s a friend’s instinct.”

“I … killed a man,” Jax said without thinking. But part of him wanted her to despise him for it. “Animalis, too.”

Slap me, Grimshaw. Throw me out of your beautiful white plane
.

He looked down at her to see her reaction. The rag continued to scrub back and forth on his hand. She didn’t look up at him. Little Hank moved around his legs, licking his boots and pants.

“I don’t know how many,” Jax kept talking. “A dozen.”

She stood up.

“They kept coming … and I kept killing.”

He noticed that she was almost as tall as he was.

“Some of them were just working there. They had no idea what was going on, and I—”

Without speaking, she wrapped her arms around him. Her chest trembled, and tears dripped down onto Jax’s neck and then his back. She was crying, sobbing.

Jax wanted to push her away before the blood on his shirt soaked into her blouse, but it was too late. His stomach tensed up, twisting into confused knots.

“I’m sorry, Jax,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry. No one should ever have to kill. You can’t take it back. You can never take it back. And they will never leave you alone. I’m so sorry, Jax.” Her hug tightened. “But you can’t trade places with them. No matter how much you want to. Your blood will never be able to pay the price for theirs.”

Jax furrowed his brow. Had he been wrong about Grimshaw? Had she gone through something like this? It sounded like it, and now it felt like her pain was resonating through him—and it seemed to wash him cleaner than the rag could ever have done. He brought his own arms up to hold Grimshaw’s trembling body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t … I didn’t think you would understand.”

As he held her, and she held him, he could feel the knots of hatred loosening inside him: the hatred he had directed at himself as a mask, to disguise his guilt, and the hatred he had used to justify the killing of the Animalis. And somehow Grimshaw, holding him and mourning with him, had given him the forgiveness he needed. Knowing that the person he had unconsciously elected as the symbol of purity could still accept him, he could choose again what he would become and what mark he would leave on the world.

With the hatred washing out of him, Jax could feel the marks that were left. He had saved Hank, and was proud of that. He had survived the only way possible—by killing—but he didn’t want to be put in a situation like that again … ever. He had followed orders that he knew were wrong, that he should have stood against, and it would be the last time.

The outer hatch clicked open and Jax could hear voices. One had to be Hank’s voice, it was sharp and precise, and the other was someone mumbling.

Jax wanted to stay there in Grimshaw’s arms. Letting go would mean acknowledging the world and its responsibilities again. Little Hank ran to the door and sniffed. Grimshaw let go, pulling back to look at Jax. All Jax could see was the smear of blood staining her white clothes.

Then Jax heard a growl in the main cabin. Hank yelled something in return.

“Hodge?” Grimshaw called, looking worried. She moved to the door, throwing the rag into a basket attached to the wall. “Hodge?”

The growl was interrupted with barked words.

Jax followed Grimshaw out into the main cabin. He had to push the firefight out of his mind. Hank had come back.
Is he coming for me?
Jax couldn’t think of any other reason he would be here.

“It’s Hank—I didn’t want him to come in, not with that thing!” Hodge said. His ears were flattened out to the sides, and his lips were pulled high, exposing wrinkled, pink gums and his big canines. “Hurley, don’t go near him. I’ll chase him off this plane if he comes back out.”

“Did he go into this cabin?” Grimshaw knocked on the second cabin. “Hank? It’s Grimshaw. Can I come in?” She paused for an answer, then turned back to Hodge. “What do you mean he brought something with him?”

“An Animalis. I don’t know, a dog, cat thing. I don’t like it. It was covered in all sorts of horrible smells. Jax, don’t go in there,” Hodge warned.

Grimshaw tried the manual handle, but it was locked. “Hank? Do you need us?”

A hyena,
Jax realized. So he wasn’t after Jax?

“It was alive, muttering some other language. I couldn’t understand it,” Hodge said.

Jax turned to Hodge. “He was carrying a hyena on board?”

“Yes, hyena. That’s what it was.” Hodge growled again. “He’s doing something in there.” His hair started to stand up. “I don’t know who is more wild: Hank or that thing.”

Jax sent a message to Hank:

Are you alright? What are you doing with that hyena? Where are the other units?

Hank replied:

I’m sorry, you should take Grimshaw and Hodge away for a bit. Stupid, I just need her compounding machine. We’ll lose the pyramid, Jax. It was the only thing I could think of. We have to find it. This thing is going to die anyway, but I think I can get the location. I just need this room to myself. Help keep Grimshaw away.

The sound of a printer started up in the room.

“Is he printing something?” Grimshaw asked. She pulled up a menu on the wall next to the door. Jax saw a printer menu, with downloads for Room 2, but Grimshaw was blocked for going further when a passcode box came up.

“He used his password to lock me out?” She sounded offended.

Another menu came up. She navigated to the door locks—blocked.

“Hank?” she called, then to herself, “Please, don’t do anything you’re going to regret in there.”

Jax didn’t know what to do. Hank wanted him to keep Grimshaw away. He needed Jax to be the muscle again, clear the way so that Hank could get the information. Jax could just hold his arms in front of the door and ask her to step outside.

There had to be some other way to find the pyramid, didn’t there? Jax shook his head to himself. Hank had gone too far.

“Do you have an ICT scanner?” Jax asked Grimshaw.

“Hodge, could you bring an ICT scanner?” she asked.

Hodge, though, was still in a furred-up state, ready to go into attack mode.

“Hodge?” Grimshaw said.

He snapped his head toward her, then blinked and finally said, “Yes? Oh … Yes, Hurley. I’ll go get one.”

Hodge left the room, sending Little Hank skittering away from where he had curled up underneath one of the retractable seats, to follow after Hodge. Moxie, though, was nowhere to be seen, Jax noticed.

Only a moment later, Hodge returned with an ICT scanner. Little Hank had curled around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” Grimshaw said, taking the scanner.

She pulled up a program on the wall screen and moved the scanner over the door to the cabin. The program quickly compiled the information in a simulated three-dimensional image, only lacking color, and frozen in time. Hank had his back turned to the door. On the floor beside him was one of the hyenas Jax had thought was dead. A hole could be seen just under the hyena’s left clavicle. Jax noted straps holding its arms and legs tightly, and a blindfold covered most of its face. Hank was holding a syringe. The computer quickly interpreted the chemical formula held within it and displayed the product. Jax recognized it: a potent drug used for interrogations—an extreme measure, banned from use on humans, that left some of its victims in a crippled mental state, or dead.

“Oh, no. Hank, please no,” Grimshaw said. She slammed a fist on the door. “Hank! Don’t you dare touch him! Don’t you dare hurt him!”

She pulled on the manual handle and shook the door. Her hand slapped the wall screen beside the door, bringing up another menu, navigating to security settings. The authorization to reset passwords had been blocked by Hank’s password as well. The door would be impossible to open without Hank’s permission, as long as it had bolts to hold it shut.

Jax pulled out his laser tool and set the focus to one inch. “Here, is it alright to cut into your door?”