Chapter 46 Carver
He stood next to Clara’s bed with his hand on her shoulder for far longer than he should.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Maybe there was an insane part of him, because he would have to be entirely insane, hoping she would open her eyes and invite him to slide in next to her.
Hoping she would say she understood and she cared about him too.
It was supposed to be her. It was always her. Whether she knew it or not, from the first day they sat on the roof he had known he would never love anyone else the way he loved her.
He opened the box with the red gem necklace, and wondered if there would ever be an opportunity for him to give it to her now that he had so royally screwed up. He slid the box under his pillow and locked himself in the bathroom.
He couldn’t believe he kissed Marsh–especially in public where Clara was able to see.
If he could go back and rewrite that moment he would.
He would tell Marsh that she was very sweet, and very pretty, that he liked her, but his heart belonged to another.
And whether that other ever acknowledged him or not, his heart would remain true to her.
He turned the shower on and stepped in. If only he could go back.
He mind fixated on how crushed Clara looked in the moment he met her eyes. As the water in the shower ran down his back, that moment replayed over and over until he thought he was going insane.
He shut the water off, and quickly changed.
Should he wake her? Could they have this conversation and move on?
They were supposed to be prepared to accomplish the assignment tomorrow.
They had wasted almost all of today. The assignment was first, right?
That was the rule. And we’ve done such a good job of following the rules.
As he stood next to her bed, debating waking her, he couldn’t.
She looked too peaceful, too calm. And he was too tired to want to fight with her.
It would be a fight. In some ways, it would be fair on her part.
Whether he was committed to her or not, the rules did say that he wasn’t supposed to flirt with anyone.
He broke them and it wasn’t even for the sake of the assignment.
Because he was stupid and craved something more than the absence he constantly felt.
Surprisingly, he fell asleep quickly.
And plunged directly into a dream.
Clara had knives in both of her hands. They were in the hallway of the lab. They passed these young lab assistants on either side. Kids. They couldn’t have been more than 16 or 17. She didn’t hesitate as she lashed out in fluid motions and slit their throats.
Blood pooled on the white floors as they slumped. Carver gagged, but kept moving. Even with the brutality, he had to complete the assignment or it would all be for naught. He had to get the vials. He had to get the vials.
It kept repeating in his head like a mantra. He had to get the vials. He had to save Quorath. More teens stepped out in white coats, and again, Clara didn’t hesitate. Again, he gagged, but again he kept moving.
He glanced over at her, and her face was impassive. The carnage, the blood shed behind them didn’t seem to faze her in the least. She was fully focused. Fully determined. Nothing would stop her.
A man stepped out of the shadows as they reached the lab. He wore a dark coat, and Carver’s heart dropped. Something was wrong. The man threw out two weapons, Carver couldn’t tell what they were, but he heard Clara scream almost immediately and everything inside of him fully panicked.
He turned to see Clara had fallen to the ground, her wrists pouring blood. The man had cut off her hands. “It was a silly thing, you tried to do here, boy.”
Carver fell to his knees, warmth soaking through his pants as the blood continued to pool.
He gently wrapped his arm around Clara’s shoulder, determined to save her if nothing else.
Soldiers poured into the lab, standing at attention behind the man in black.
They weren’t going to fulfill the assignment.
There was no way they were getting the vials now.
At best, he could get Clara out of here alive. So that was what he determined to do.
“You were never going to win. We always knew you were coming. Do you think the festival was just to showcase our scientific endeavors?” He grinned, and Carver almost recoiled.
The man’s canines had been carved into points, and in that moment he looked more animal than human.
His voice, however, still carried the distinct mark of royalty.
Every word perfectly spoken, and with an air that you couldn’t help but listen.
“No, we’re not that prideful. It was an invite.”
Carver slipped his hands under Clara’s shoulders, trying to help her stand, but she had passed out.
Her dead weight caused him to pitch forward, both of them ending up back on the ground.
Her blood was soaking his pants, coating his hands, coating her, and he resisted the urge to gag yet again as nausea churned in his stomach.
He wouldn’t show weakness in front of this man.
“Don’t you want to ask what the invite was for?”
Carver forced himself to stand, leaving Clara at his feet. He couldn’t get her out with these soldiers at his back. Best to face them head on and protect her while he still could. “What was the invite for?” His voice sounded flat even to his own ears.
Again, the man grinned. Feral. “To see who would be brave enough, or foolish enough as it turns out, to attempt and steal from us.”
Carver gaped, wanting to throw up a defense.
All of the plans were foreseen. They were expected.
“You got further than we expected, actually. That girl of yours, she’s bloody brilliant.
Tougher than we expected. And now, you’ve reached the end.
Thank you for showing us the weaknesses in our labs. We appreciate it.”
The man snapped his fingers and guards stepped forward in unison.
Carver didn’t even have a weapon to lash out at them.
He stepped over Clara’s body, determined to do something, anything.
The man froze before he left, “Take her to the creature labs. With the loss of her arms, she’ll be a perfect candidate for our new bio engineering program. ”
Carver yelled, standing his ground even as the soldiers came within feet of him. “Kill the boy.”
One of the soldiers lifted his gun and fired.
Carver woke up, completely soaked in sweat and panicking. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. He was certain he had been screaming. His throat felt raw, and he was surprised Clara hadn’t shaken him awake or wasn’t glaring at him from the edge of her bed.
A sickening feeling crept into his gut. Clara.
He scrambled off of his mat, his feet tangling in his blanket.
He tripped and crashed into the edge of the bed before he was able to right himself.
“Clara?” He didn’t bother to whisper or be quiet.
He needed to hear her voice, needed the reassurance that she was okay.
There was no response. He saw her hands falling. He saw the blood pouring from the stumps. Her falling to her knees and passing out. “Clara!”
He threw open the bathroom door. She wasn’t there. He flipped on the light in the room. Her bed was empty and her shoes were gone. “No, no, no.” He groaned. Where would she have gone in the middle of the night?
He slipped his own shoes on as he rushed down the stairs, not bothering to tie the laces.
Maybe she was only in the kitchen? Maybe she had gone for a walk and was getting back?
The adrenaline from the dream still flowed through his veins, and even if those were the more likely options, his body was still telling him that something was wrong.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Clara was in danger.
She wasn’t in the kitchen. He rushed out the back door, forgetting to close it as he surveyed the alley. No sign of her. “Carver?” Marsh shouted from the doorway.
He turned, barely even registering her frame. “It’s Clara. She’s not here. She’s in danger.”
“You don’t know that. She probably just went for a walk. I’m sure she’s fine. Come back inside.” Marsh yawned, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I can’t come back inside. She’s in danger. I know it.” He paced back and forth through the alley. Where would she have gone? Where could he look?
“Even if she is in danger, you have no idea where she is. Go back to bed, and I’m sure she’ll be back by morning. She’s tough, remember? She doesn’t need your protection.”
The man’s words from his dream resounded through his head, renewing fear within him. They knew Carver and Clara were here. Somehow that man knew.
Carver knew he wasn’t being entirely logical. He couldn’t even prove that man was a real person. He had been having nightmares for years, and none had come to fruition. He had no evidence that this one was different. But it felt different. Somehow. He knew that something was wrong.
“I have to try and find her.” He emphatically responded.
He started at the bar. No sign of her inside. It was late enough that a lot of the patrons had cleared out already. He stopped the bartender and described Clara, hoping that maybe he had seen her. There had been no sign of her.
Where else? He walked through the town square, a few drunk groups stumbling and laughing here and there. The shops had closed up, and the stage was now entirely empty. No sign of Clara.
He exhaled heavily, pushing his hair back off his forehead. He slowly spun in a circle, surveying the area and trying to think where else could she go.
No. No. She wasn’t stupid enough to try and steal the vials on her own.
No way. Was she? His heart sank. Maybe not stupid enough, but she was stubborn enough, and sometimes those two went together.
He exhaled, trying to shake the anxiety grasping at his chest, and sprinted across the town square to reach the edge of the alleys.
He crept along the forest line, pausing behind the trees that were big enough to hide his body so he could listen for any noise.
He was close enough to see the guards, and silently laid on his stomach so he could watch them without being noticed. Nothing seemed wrong. Everything seemed like it was okay.
The guards were talking quietly, looking thoroughly bored with their evening. Carver couldn’t blame them. Guarding an electronically guarded door frame in the middle of the night must have felt like a pointless assignment.
He tried to see behind them, desperately wishing he had binoculars.
He couldn’t spot anything out of order. His heart rate slowed, and he started thinking maybe Marsh was right.
Clara did like to expend energy through exercise.
Maybe she couldn’t sleep, and so she went for a run.
She was probably back already, and her and Marsh were mocking him for his over protectiveness.
Yeah, that was what would happen. He’d get back, they’d be in the kitchen with tea, and he’d get laughed at. He’d pretend to be frustrated at their laughter, but truly, he would enjoy every minute of it because it would mean that Clara was safe and his nightmare was just a dream.
He was about to crawl away and head back to the bookstore, but something inside him convinced him to wait another moment. The guards burst out in laughter, talking about something he couldn’t make out. Then the alarms went off.