《The Injured》Chapter Fifteen: Matron

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Nicholas took the request alarmingly well. Alexander was expecting some push back, or just to be denied immediately. Instead of a harsh word, or a poignant silence, the bat just let out a snickering laugh.

“I’ll take you to her,” the creature said which caused the mood to swiftly change. Alexander had been tense up to that moment, every muscle in his body taught and ready to enforce the demanding tone he had used. He had been expecting a fight. Seeing how Nicholas had enacted his business just made the boy angry. It made it hard to hold back his emotions. Alexander’s face had been curled into a snarl when he had shifted the umbrella.

Now he just regarded the short creature with a look of pure astonishment. He had been expecting the worst. That his sister would be out of his reach. That he would need to scream or tear at Nicholas to get to her. Instead the bat just moved in a slightly different direction, prompting the boy to follow him with a wave of one hand.

“I needed to go there anyways, the nursery is one of my clients. One of the younglings is sick, didn’t take to the tests very well.” Nicholas clicked his teeth together, apparently annoyed by the notion. Alexander simply nodded, quickening his pace to keep the creature happy. Now that he was heading toward his goal the rebellion that had been brewing with him cooled, and he began to act like the perfect assistant. Once again he settled into his adopted role, predicting the bat’s movements and making sure the creature would be covered by ample shade.

The building Alexander was led too wasn’t outwardly different than any other. The scarred grey concrete walls loomed over the street like an unmarked grave. The shade it cast was deep and dark, and the two bats that stood in front of the large wooden doors needed no other protection.

The two creature stood tall, their shoulders meeting the level of Alexander’s as the regarded the two entities approaching them. Nicholas squeaked and spoke to them in their shared strange language, gesturing towards Alexander once. The two by the door simply shrugged, glancing at each other before nodding. They saw no harm in allowing the young boy to enter.

Alexander on the other hand eyed them warily. He had yet to see any of the bats in their combat gear. The metal armor that twisted around the two guards was riddled with ornamental pieces. A shinier metal glittered and ran along the joints and curves creating intricate patterns and images. The prevailing visuals seemed to be of plants, vines and leaves twisting around every inch of their form. Alexander had never seen anything made this lavishly.

Everything in the wastes was practical. Both in appearance and in use. You didn’t make something useless that looked good when the resources to do so were in short supply. Alexander saw the beautiful designs, the art pieces from a forgotten era, and his eyes narrowed in disgust. In the effort to create such awe inspiring armor pieces a good smith could have created a dozen drab ones.

To a boy who had only lived with shortages, the opulence was disgusting. It didn’t matter how good they looked, and if they served their purpose or not. It was a waste. A waste of precious time, effort, and knowing these creatures, human life.

The two guards viewed the boy with curiosity and boredom. Alexander viewed them with barely concealed hostility.

One of the pair noticed with a laugh, nudging their partner and calling their attention to it as well. Nicholas shouldered open the door just as Alexander noticed the two guards beginning to mock him. Clenching his fingers together into a fist the boy made his way into the building behind Nicholas. The behaviour of the two guards could be ignored in the face of figuring out what had happened to his sister. His pride would have to take the hit, not that he could do much of anything.

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Alexander dismissed the guards without a thought, just as they had done to him. He had done so out of urgency, paying them no mind simply because he was focused on something else. The pair guarding the door had a myriad of reasons to dismiss Alexander. The two ancient pair had been guards longer than Alexander or his parents had existed. They had trained and fought in ages much worse than the one they now found themselves in. In an earlier time the aggression that they had spotted one Alexander’s face would have made them pause. Now it just made them laugh. They had killed so many that expressions like that no longer carried any threat. They had grown callous and indifferent to the role they now found themselves in. They regarded Alexander just like they regarded the ants that crawled beneath their feet. In fact they worried about the ants more. At least those pesky little creatures could potentially be annoying to deal with. If an ant became a problem it would at least take them some time to deal with it. Alexander didn’t have the same luxury.

The dark corridors that Alexander found himself enclosed by gave him an eerie feeling. For a place that supposedly held young children he saw no sign of them. No laughter, no joy echoed about the hard corridors. That would have been worrying on its own, but there was no crying either. No sounds of distress or terror. Just a long, dead and silent hallway that supposedly held children.

If Nicholas hadn’t kept his calm pace Alexander would have thought something was certainly wrong. Instead the bat led them deeper into the building leaving the sunlight behind them. Eventually Alexander began to see signs of life. Scrambling noises from behind closed doors, medical clipboards with intelligible writing clipped into place.

“Younglings,” Nicholas mumbled when he saw the direction Alexander’s gaze had lingered. “Kids going through the change are kept there until they can be reasoned with. Most who are given our blood simply shrug it off. They stay human. Some take a liking to it and begin to change.”

“My sister?” Alexander asked, glancing at the doorways with a renewed interest newly armed with the knowledge of what the contained. He dreaded the answer, because he didn’t know what he’d do if he got it. What would he do if his sister became one of those creatures?

Could he hold onto the festering hate brewing within him if his sister became one of them? Could he continue his inner rebellion?

“She didn’t react. But we need to hold her for further testing. We are not the only change that can occur in children.” Nicholas simply stated, immediately cooling Alexander’s rapidly racing heart. Alexander also knew what he was referencing. It was about his sister’s age when mutations truly began to set in. Children who had been healthy smiling babies, could rapidly devolve into slathering beasts in the span of a few weeks. It was the greatest fear of any parent for their child to wake one day with one of the signs. Miscoloured eyes. Hardened fingernails. Misshapen bones. The signs were well known and haunted every sleeping moment that mothers and fathers managed to sneak.

Alexander had been one of the lucky children. He had not only survived infancy, he had begun to enter his teens. He was among the first generation to be born into the wastes, and survive them. There were only a handful of children older than him still living on earth. Years had gone by without a successful birth, the environment stunting and culling most of the children before they ever came of age. What mutation didn’t corrupt, mutant ate. What starvation didn’t snuff, starving parents did. Alexander didn’t know it, as did no one around him, but he was one among the smallest number of humans.

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Children born in the worst times humanity had ever encountered that had survived. His sister was separate from him entirely. She had been born in a small village, with a meager food supply.

Alexander had been conceived in a chaotic starving bunker. Cut off from the world and barely alive. His first years had been a frantic escape from the bunker, a battle fought with crude weapons between hands meant to heal and fix and those that wanted them dead. Alexander had seen death the first moment he had opened his eyes, his cries echoing around the darkened room that his father had killed to own.

Blood had seeped into his first pair of clothing, a pair Diana had stolen from another couple. His life had been bought with the death and pain his parents had caused. His sister’s had been bought with the good will they had earned as the world cooled. As the flames died down and people left their isolated shelters, the good in people began to surface once again.

Nicholas led Alexander into a large room pushing the door open with one hand and finally allowing the boy his first glimpse of his sister. The small girl was swaddled in a dirty cloth, sitting in a small circle with other similarly cared for children. They varied in ages, from the barely a day old, to the stumpy and clumsy toddlers. They all sat in a loose circle with a bat in the centre. Clad in a white robe the creature cooed and called each of the young human’s attention to it.

Alexander felt a fist thump him in the stomach as he took a step into the room, Nicholas stopping him at the threshold. “Wait,” the bat hissed in warning as he watched the assembled children. His eyes were hawkish, staring at each child gathered in turn. Alexander could see the gears turning in the creatures head as it observed each, categorizing them and organizing his observations.

“Look, you’ll need to do this yourself if you’re going to be half competent. See the signs?” Nicholas hissed, pointing one boney finger towards the gathered children.

Alexander narrowed his eyes, giving the bat an angry look before turning to the children. One by one he copied Nicholas. Eyeing each young child carefully, before moving onwards to the next. He nodded to himself, noting each one that he cleared before pausing.

His face paled as he noticed the child that Nicholas had evidently seen. The toddler was apart from the others, his head hung low. He wasn’t paying attention to the bat before him, unlike the others. His skin was tinged a shade of green, which though a sign of sickness, hinted at worse. Every flickering movement of the child’s eyes seemed distant, but every clench of his small hands burned with an intensity that Alexander recognized.

It was the same sensation that he had seen in the claws burying their way into the metal shell of the car. The strength in those fingers, in the bent muscles and twisted bones underneath, was visible even at this distance.

Alexander pointed his finger at the child, prompting a dejected sigh from the bat at his side. “Yes. If you can even see it…well it’s a shame. Young Thomas looked to be fighting it off. Poor child.”

For the first time Alexander found himself wholeheartedly agreeing with the beast at his side. He felt a twinge of emotion tug at his heartstrings as he stared at the dopey child. The child already well on the path to becoming a horrific creature.

With a high pitched squeal Nicholas addressed the creature in the center of the circle, gesturing with a short nod at Thomas. Sighing the figure shrugged their white flowing robes exaggerating the movement. It called the assembled children’s attention to it a moment later with another cooing noise, Macy giggling along with the others as Thomas continued his dull swaying.

Nicholas grunted, glancing at Alexander before whispering. “You have seen your sister. She is going through the same process as young Thomas. Let the matron continue her work, your sister is safe here.”

Alexander frowned, gazing at the mutating boy once again, “How long until she is home?” The boy was aware of the danger the aberration in their midst was. He knew just how quickly a child could turn, and he wanted his sister to be as far away as possible when that occurred.

“Week or so. She will have to submit to weekly checkups but most that are cleared do not come back. Which is why poor Thomas is such a strange outlier. Would have been a good thrall, strong kid.” Nicholas paused before shrugging, “His parents will be informed.”

Alexander grunted, a sour taste in his mouth forming at the mention of the thralls. He knew better than to think that Nicholas actually cared for the child, but still the mention of what Thomas’s future would have been ruined the mood.

The matron glanced upwards, her golden eyes catching Alexander’s for a moment, before digging into him. Alexander could feel her gaze roaming across the skin of his face, reading it and the emotion held within. He could sense her attention on him, burning and scalding as he shuffled from foot to foot.

A chirping noise filled the small room as the bat spoke, calling Nicholas’s attention back to her. What followed was a rapid set of noises Alexander could not follow. Despite being exposed to this language for hours, Alexander had yet to even memorize a single meaning. The exchange grew heated a moment later, Nicholas spitting his words out with a barely concealed fury, before gesturing wildly at Alexander.

Speaking suddenly in English, the anger was still rich in Nicholas’s voice, “She wants to know if you were checked for our blood. I told her no, and that you were too old. The change needs time to stick and works its way through the body. It needs to be administered in a time of great change for the body. She said it was a shame and that you would have made a fine addition to our family. Your sister almost crossed the threshold, she’s sure a first blood would have been strong enough to do so. She asked if she could try, and I told her to fuck off. If given to you now it’d kill you. Not letting her do that, you cost me too much.”

“Thanks,” grumbled Alexander, following Nicholas as the bat made his way back towards the exit of the building.

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