Taken Over (The Ravening #2)(32)
Author: Erica Stevens

My heart pounded rapidly in my chest, my hands were shaking as I shoved them into the pockets of my jeans. I had to fight the urge to turn and flee, to bolt into the woods and bury myself in the solace that they offered. Not now, not during the day I told myself fiercely. But tonight I could run and run, and then maybe I could sleep for a little while again. It had been amazing to sleep the sleep of the dead for the past five nights. There had been no dreams, no nightmares to plague me within the woods.

Maybe it was the running that did it. Maybe I was just so exhausted by the time I collapsed that it was nearly impossible for me to dream. I didn’t think it was that though, I thought it was the simple pleasure of being able to do something freeing, something wild. Something that the girl I had once been would have been too afraid to do, and the strange woman I had become would never enjoy. And yet not only did I do it, I also relished in it.

And in that simple realization I found myself slowly becoming someone new. Becoming someone that was not driven by fear as the girl had been, and someone that was not driven by anger and hurt as the strange woman had been. The person that was emerging was new, uncertain to me, but I found I was beginning to like her. And I had not liked myself in a very long time. She was a combination of the girl and the hardened woman. She had some of the same strengths, and some of the same weaknesses, but she had learned and she was wiser. I was wiser.

I was developing new ways to handle things, finding new things to enjoy and take pleasure in, and new ways to take care of myself. The ice encasing me was melting; I was beginning to understand that loss was not an excuse to hide from people, and love. Not an excuse to withdraw from the world. Grief was something to endure, it was something to grow and learn from, and I was starting to realize this.

Those hours in the woods had soothed some of the ragged edges of my frayed soul and had finally allowed me to come back to life, even if only a little. But slowly, day by day, that little was beginning to grow.

But now I could feel the panic tearing at me again, shredding my insides, trying to climb out of me as Bishop placed the syringe between his teeth and hit a few keys on the computer he had set up. There was no internet, the aliens had banned it and dismantled it months before they had unleashed their unholy attack, but Bishop kept all of his notes on his laptop. I watched Bishop as he frowned, shook his head, and pulled the syringe from between his lips. He seemed to have completely forgotten that I was even here, or what the syringe was for. I understood this strange quirk about Bishop, understood people who lived mainly within their own worlds. Aiden lived within the walls of science and math; my father had also been a dreamer who had spent many hours locked away writing.

But Bishop was driving me nuts right now, and at this moment I had no patience for it.

“Bishop.” He continued to ignore me as his fingers flew over the keyboard. “Larry. Doctor Bishop!” He finally glanced up at me, surprise filtering slowly over his features. I shook my head in annoyance. “What is wrong with my blood?” I demanded.

“Oh yes, yes, your blood. We need a fresh sample Bethany.”

I exhaled angrily as I folded my arms over chest. “I’m on antibiotics, remember?”

“Oh yes, yes.” Disappointment flitted over his features, he dropped the syringe down. “We’ll wait until you are off the medicine.” He had already informed me of this fact two days ago, but he seemed to have forgotten. “How is your shoulder? Let me take a look.”

I sat on the edge of the table as he examined my wound closely. His fingers were gentle as he prodded me, but I couldn’t stop myself from wincing as they touched against the tender flesh of the burn. “It’s healing exceptionally well considering the amount of damage, and the means taken to close it. It’s a good thing you were so close to the hospital as you’re showing no signs of infection.”

I caught a brief glimpse of a horse head and two front hooves before he tugged my shirt back into place. As the swelling, blistering and redness had gone down the rearing horse burned into my shoulder had become more obvious. At least it was a horse and not a camel after all, I thought wryly. I shifted on the table I was sitting on, my hands wrapped around the edge of it as I leaned forward.

“Yes, I was lucky. So what is wrong with the samples?”

He glanced back at me, shoving his horn rimmed glasses further up his nose. “I told you it’s just contaminated, we’ll get it all cleared up in a few days.”

I knew he was impatient to get fresh samples from me, and now so was I. “What are you seeing in the samples you do have?”

“Cell degeneration.” I froze; my legs stopped swinging back and forth as I gazed at him in shock. “Abnormalities.”

“Excuse me?” I squeaked.

He seemed to truly see me for the first time, seemed to finally focus on my fear and uncertainty. “It’s nothing to worry about Bethany. I’d let you know if there was. The degeneration is simply because the samples are old and were improperly stored. They were more than likely contaminated.”

“Contaminated?”

“Hmm.” He was back at his computer, his head bowed as he read something on the screen. “Due to lack of room we stored the alien, and your blood, in the same fridge at the warehouse. There must have been cross contamination.”

I continued to stare at him in wide eyed horror, angered by the fact that he seemed to be taking this so lightly when I was a tumultuous mass of raw nerve endings and terror. There had been so many changes going on within me lately, so many things that I didn’t understand. Could these abnormalities in the samples be the reason why? Had that thing that grabbed me on the beach somehow done something to me?

“What if it’s not cross contamination!?” I nearly shrieked.

He looked up in surprise at my harsh tone. My terror must have been evident as he forgot about his computer to walk back toward me. “I’m sorry Bethy I’m not explaining myself well at all.”

“No, you’re not,” I agreed.

“The blood samples I took from you were ruined when the alien was stored with them. Your cells are showing a mutation.”

My throat was completely dry, my heart lumbered painfully in my chest. That cold chill was back, it crept down my spine leaving a layer of sweat behind. Bishop’s eyes grew distant once again as his eyebrows drew tightly together. I hated the fact that he seemed completely baffled by whatever he had discovered in my cells. “A mutation that resembles the cells of that thing we killed?” I croaked.